Daphne's Helping Hand

Gilderoy Lockhart's trial was a sensation. Since he had assaulted the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House, the trial would be automatically held at the Wizengamot instead of at the Council of Magical Law. The Council took care of the everyday legal matters of the British magical world, but the Wizengamot acted as the apex court in the country along with being the legislative body. Very important cases such as this were routed directly there.

The country was up in arms that a famous and beloved author like Gilderoy Lockhart had been arrested. Wanting to take advantage of the situation, Rita Skeeter had printed an article in the Daily Prophet which revealed Harry being a Parselmouth. Sirius was furious that he had still not gotten any information about her, but he persevered. He had hired a company which would screen letters Harry received from the public and forward any lethal letters to the D.M.L.E. Two women had already been arrested for sending undiluted bobotuber pus in the envelopes. A few others had been fined heavily for trying to cause bodily harm to another, a minor at that.

On the day of the trial, Amelia began by explaining what had happened that night and showed the evidence she had collected. She brought several teachers as witnesses and Chief Warlock Dumbledore testified as well. The Weasley and Diggory families were sitting with Harry in the seats meant for the plaintiff.

"I would request this august body to grant us the right to use Veritaserum," said Amelia, her voice booming. "If the accused has –"

"Hem, hem."

Amelia stopped talking and her left eye twitched minutely. Even Dumbledore's eyes grew a little cold when he heard that sound.

He turned and said, "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I made the teensiest interruption, Chief Warlock?" she asked in a very girlish, high-pitched voice.

"The Chair recognises Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Dumbledore.

"Hem, hem. Thank you, Chief Warlock," said Umbridge in a fake surgery sweet voice. Her eyes landed on Harry, and Harry saw that she had a glint in her eye. Whatever she was going to say, he was sure he wasn't going to like it.

"I was wondering if the Wizengamot could view Mr Potter's memory of the event. If he is not lying, I'm sure he would have no objection to do so, don't you agree?" she asked and gave a girlish giggle at the end.

Harry's eyes darkened and his upper lip curled in distaste. He knew of this woman all right. She was the most hated woman in the entire Ministry from he had heard from Amelia's rants. She was the recently appointed Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, before which she was the Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office.

"Objection, Chief Warlock," said Sirius sharply. "I will not consent to view my godson's memory of the event in front of entire Wizengamot and I'm sure Mr and Mrs Weasley, as well as Mr and Mrs Diggory, will agree with me. The boys were being sexually assaulted by Mr Lockhart and hence were in a state of undress. I will not let my godson's naked pictures appear on the front page of the Daily Prophet."

"I agree," boomed Amelia. "I have personally viewed the memory of the event I extracted from Mr Potter and I can testify that it is authentic. As the Head of the D.M.L.E., my word should suffice and as Harry Potter's guardian, I too will not let anyone else view that memory."

"Hem, hem. Are you suggesting that the boy in question may be lying? Mr Lockhart is a very famous author. Accusing him without presenting the main source of evidence is rather convenient, is it not? Especially considering how much publicity Mr Potter would get just to bring the man here on trumped-up charges. It is difficult to believe the words of a Parselmouth," said Umbridge, smiling sweetly at Harry.

"Accusing without evidence?" repeated Sirius, his eyebrows raised, not at all falling for the trap. "Oh dear, it seems our new Senior Undersecretary is not capable of hearing and seeing what is right in front of her. We have had so many witnesses testify against Mr Lockhart, including the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Chief Warlock. Perhaps you need to look for a new secretary, Minister Fudge. Madam Umbridge seems to be not qualified for the job ... or know her place."

"How dare you?" shrieked Umbridge.

"When I said know your place, I meant it," spat Sirius, harshly, his face turning red with anger. "Suggest something so disgusting again and I will declare a blood feud against you and your family for the intentional harm of the heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black."

"That will not be necessary," said Dumbledore quickly, putting an end to the discussion before Umbridge ended up dead right there in the Wizengamot chamber. He knew that she was not capable of defeating Sirius in a duel. James and Sirius had been personally trained by Alastor Moody and he didn't want anyone dead over something as trivial as this. In fact, he didn't want people dead, period. There had been enough deaths caused because of Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the last war.

The resolution to give Veritaserum passed by a majority and after Lockhart was dosed, he sang like a canary. He explained what happened that night and why he picked the victims as well. When asked about any other victims, he began listing his future targets, two of which were Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy.

Cyrus Greengrass and Lucius Malfoy were horrified.

When the issue of obliviation came up regarding the victims, Lockhart also slipped out about his books. Further clarification revealed that they were all fake, and that he had Obliviated the original people who had done those feats of magic and had taken credit for it so as to boost his popularity. The books he had sold gave him a lot of money and that was the only reason he had applied for the Defence post at Hogwarts. Hundreds of students buying his entire collection of books had increased his sales revenue drastically.

Finally, Harry got what he wanted. Sirius Black, Cyrus Greengrass and Lucius Malfoy did not like what Lockhart had done and had planned to do. His entire monetary assets were seized and were to be divided among the four victims equally. To someone like Harry who came from old money, the amount he received was insignificant to count, but to the Weasleys, it would greatly alleviate their financial strain, especially since they got half of Lockhart's fortune.

When it came to the punishment, Cyrus Greengrass gave a speech about how the man's crimes against the boys were a violation against Mother Magic herself and as such, it shouldn't go unpunished. Lucius Malfoy also agreed, pushing for the verdict. Surprisingly, Dumbledore did not try to stop it and Lockhart was sentenced to the Dementor's kiss, but he did suffer intense disapproval and backlash at hiring Lockhart in the first place. When the next edition of the Daily Prophet was released, people were shocked to stillness about the extent of Lockhart's crimes. Some of them felt ashamed in believing the worst of a twelve-year-old boy when the man himself was a monster, but they were still digesting the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived was a Parselmouth.

No one sent any letters of apology.

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A week later, Harry came back to Hogwarts. Having already finished breakfast, he slowly made his way over to the Potions classroom when he literally ran into someone.

"Uff!" cried Daphne as arms wrapped around her waist to stop her from falling. "Get your hands off – Harry!"

She immediately rushed into his arms and hugged him tightly. Harry smiled softly as he hugged her back. He had really missed her over the past several days.

"How are you?" she asked softly. "I heard about what happened; the entire school was in shock."

"I'm fine," said Harry quietly. "But Sirius is making me go to a Mind Healer to help deal with what happened. I tried to say no, but he wouldn't listen. I'll have to go to St Mungo's every weekend for a few hours."

"That's good isn't it?"

"Talking to a stranger about my feelings?" said Harry, his left eye twitching in annoyance. "If it hadn't been for secrecy oaths, I would never have agreed, despite Sirius not giving me a choice in the first place. How have you been?"

"I've missed you," she admitted softly.

A small smile made its way to Harry's face as he pulled her closer to him. Their lips touched briefly and after several seconds, they broke apart. Harry looked at her tenderly, moving closer to nuzzle his face against hers, breathing her scent deeply.

He really had missed her; more than he cared to admit.

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It was now the first week of March and the castle had quietened somewhat. There had been no more attacks for a long time now and people thought it was finally safe. Harry was just returning from Quidditch practice when he heard the voice again.

"Kill ... Rip ... so hungry ... Kill this time ..."

He stopped mid-step, his heart thumping a mile a minute. He had a choice. He could ignore it and be blamed for it anyway or he could find out what the creature was and maybe find the attacker at the same time. If he caught the attacker red-handed, the Ministry of Magic would finally have a lead as to what was causing the attacks. With that in mind, he rushed towards the opposite direction of Ravenclaw Tower, listening to the sounds which were rapidly fading.

He was in the fourth-floor girl's bathroom. Tentatively opening the door, his eyes widened when he saw Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater lying on the floor in front of the sink with a mirror above. He went forward to check and he confirmed that they were petrified. There was no sign of any wizard or creature nearby. How had the attacker fled so quickly? This was not possible!

Just as he was about to leave, Peeves showed up in the corridor outside, signing to himself. "What are you up to, Potty?" he said in a sing-song voice. "Potty, Potty, you are such a dorky –"

Peeves stopped singing when he caught sight of the petrified girls inside the bathroom. Before Harry could even begin to do damage control, the poltergeist was yelling at the top of his voice.

"MURDER! Murder in the bathroom! Attack! Ataaaackkk! No one is safe in this castle! Run for your lives!"

Harry sighed as he leaned against the wall. There was no escaping this. He had found the girls inside the bathroom; a place he had no business being in. What explanation could he give now?

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"Sherbet lemon," said Professor McGonagall as she led Harry to the Headmaster's office. She looked at him coldly as she said, "Professor Dumbledore is waiting for you."

Harry nodded stiffly as he ascended up the spiral staircase. He knocked on the door and entered. The place was the same as always, except this time, the phoenix looked old and frail. Harry went over to the bird and smiled.

"Hello, o noble phoenix," said Harry softly. "I'm sorry I could not greet you before. I'm not exactly fond of your companion. Burning day, huh?"

The phoenix trilled softly, but it was full of pain. When Harry could smell fire, he calmly stepped back, giving it more room. Giving one final croak of pain, the phoenix burst into flames. After several seconds, Harry went near and saw the small ugly chick rise from the ashes.

"Take care of yourself," said Harry softly as the phoenix trilled at him fondly.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore coming down the stairs. "Ah, I see Fawkes has gone through with his burning. About time too; he's been quite irritable lately."

"I would be too if I were so sick that I could barely move or speak," said Harry, as he took his seat. Dumbledore observed the young boy with keen eyes. The Potter scion's expression was blank, showing no hint of fear. It reminded him again of Tom Riddle. Speaking of which –

"Now, Harry," said Dumbledore, looking at him pointedly. "May I ask what you were doing when you came across Miss Granger and Miss Clearwater?"

Harry didn't answer. His face was impassive as always as he stared at the wall behind the headmaster. He honestly didn't know what to say.

"Nothing to say?" said Dumbledore, observing Harry. "This situation has become a lot more serious, Harry. I'm asking you again; what were you doing in that bathroom on the fourth floor?"

Harry's lip curled slightly. "I heard a voice," he said finally.

"A voice, you say?"

"Yes. It was talking about killing. I followed it. That's how I stumbled upon Finch-Fletchley as well."

"I see," said Dumbledore slowly. "I hope you are telling the truth, Harry, because if you are not, it would be disastrous for you. I already know that you harbour a hatred for Muggles and Muggle-borns –"

"Excuse me?" said Harry sharply. "Who told you that I hate Muggle-borns? I don't! My own mother was Muggle-born, for Merlin's sake!"

"I know of witches and wizards who have had Muggles for parents and yet they hate Muggles with a passion," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "Please, Harry. Stop this madness. The attacks have gone on long enough. We can work together in repairing the damage. Don't walk down this path. I urge you to reconsider what you are doing."

Harry's face showed genuine surprise. "You actually believe that I am responsible for this?" he asked incredulously.

When Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, Harry's eyes darkened in anger.

"You will all have to swallow your words one day, old man," Harry whispered angrily as he got up. "And I will laugh in your face when that day comes when you realise that I was innocent all along. I can't believe you!"

Dumbledore watched as Harry walked out of the office, slamming the door in the process. Was the boy truly innocent as he claimed? If that were true, who was responsible for these attacks?

Could Voldemort somehow be responsible for this? He had dismissed that idea thinking Harry was guilty, but maybe – just maybe, there was something else going on here. Or was Harry lying about it? No, Harry was many things, but he was far from stupid. Lying to the Chief Warlock was not an option. Then there was that voice. What was that all about? A flicker of surprise found its way to his eyes as he consulted a book on magical snakes.

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Two weeks had passed since the incident with the Headmaster. The D.M.L.E. had finally been allowed to investigate the matter, but there was no evidence of an attack. The entire school seemed to give Harry a wide berth now. Nobody in his fifth-year class seemed to want to be seated anywhere near him. Dumbledore had also been dismissed by the Board of Governors and surprisingly enough, Hagrid had been arrested. Harry guessed that he must have been accused of opening the Chamber the last time. How Fudge knew about this was anyone's guess, but if Harry wanted proof of Lucius Malfoy's involvement, he had gotten it now.

Daphne also seemed to want to get to the bottom of the mystery, so she spent more time in the library. Harry didn't know where to start. He was loaded to the brim with work as his O.W.L.s drew near and he didn't have time to sleep let alone investigate what was going on. He had checked the map for Lucius Malfoy or even Voldemort, but there was nothing there! It was as though the attacker was invisible. The problem was that there was absolutely no record of any incident with the Chamber of Secrets. He tried to access Hagrid's record, but it didn't exist except for when he was expelled, so he had no idea what the half-giant had done, so he turned to the people who could inform him.

"He was expelled for letting lose a creature which killed a girl in his third year," said Amelia, looking through a very thin file as the mirror floated in front of her. "I don't have any other information. After he was expelled, Dumbledore apparently convinced Headmaster Dippet to keep Hagrid at Hogwarts and train him as a gamekeeper. There is no mention of the Chamber at all. And don't even ask me about Tom Riddle. There is absolutely no mention of him beyond his academic records. Voldemort must have wiped them clean during the war."

"Damn," muttered Harry. "Thanks, Aunt Amy. I have a Quidditch match now. I'll talk to you later."

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Albus Dumbledore adjusted his cloak as he walked alone in the streets of Kockturn Alley. He was a man on a mission and he wouldn't leave until he got to the bottom of the mystery. He had still not figured out how Voldemort was causing the attacks on Hogwarts, but he had a pretty good idea of what was attacking the students. But he was here for another reason – to find out more information on one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Good even, Borgin," said Dumbledore as he dropped his glamour. "How have you been, old friend?"

"Dumbledore," sneered Borgin as he saw his old schoolmate. "What a displeasure it is to see you. What do you want?"

"Can't an old man drop by to visit an old friend?" said Dumbledore, smiling at the owner of Borgin and Burkes.

"We were never friends, Dumbledore, so cut the crap and tell me what you want," said Borgin in a wheezy voice.

"Very well," said Dumbledore as he drew himself to his fullest height, his powerful aura palpable as he looked at Borgin with narrowed eyes. "What can you tell me about a young man who worked here fifty years ago? He was an old student of mine ... named Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Borgin paled rapidly and looked ready to die of shock. He was trembling in fear as he realised who Dumbledore was referring to. He still remembered the tortured screams of his business partner Caractacus Burke when Voldemort killed him years ago. He still did not know why the Dark Lord had targeted Burke, but he had no intention of ever finding out.

"I-I have n-no idea w-what you a-are talking a-about," stuttered Borgin, trying not to gulp in fear. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed and his wand was out of his robes in a fraction of a second, far too fast for Borgin to even think.

A pure ripple of magic left his wand as he cast a stunning spell on the man. With another flick, the door of the shop closed, the windows tinted so that no one would be able to see or hear what was going on. He needed information on what Voldemort had done once he left Hogwarts. He knew that Voldemort had explored the idea of Horcruxes from the memory he had received from Horace Slughorn, not to mention that soul piece that was lodged in Harry's scar, but he didn't have the faintest idea where the Dark Lord's Horcruxes could be. Unfortunately, Voldemort was too good at hiding his movements, so it would take some time.

He would not let Voldemort destroy the world they were trying to rebuild. Albus had seen the cost of war and he had taken drastic steps to ensure that Voldemort was defeated, going so far as to betray people who trusted him. He would ensure the man was destroyed for good, no matter what the cost. People like Voldemort could not be allowed to live and he was willing to take any action necessary so that the people of Magical Britain and beyond did not have to suffer again because of his old student's insanity and thirst for power.

"Legilimens!"

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Meanwhile, Daphne had just come out from inside a bathroom, repairing the portion of the wall which she had blasted apart. She wondered if anyone knew about the pipes that were at Hogwarts. From her position, she could see small spiders crawling away through the small holes in the stone. She had never seen spiders acting this way. Her eyes widened when she realised the implications. They had never thought about spiders. Hagrid's roosters had been killed earlier this year – it had been chalked off to a wild animal from the Forbidden Forest. Wait, in which year had Hagrid been expelled?

Just as Daphne rushed to the library, another girl was frowning at her, clutching a small black diary to her chest. The girl's eyes were crimson.

The book which contained the records of students showed that Hagrid had been expelled in his third year. Tom Riddle, who Harry had revealed to her as Voldemort had gotten an award for special services to the school the same year. That couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

What was the name of the girl that had died?

Daphne's eyes widened. Oh, sweet Merlin; why had no one thought to ask her? Maybe Dumbledore had, but had never gotten an answer before. All the girls at Hogwarts tended to avoid that bathroom because of Myrtle. But first, she had to ensure her safety. She took out the book on magical snakes and copied the sheet and scribbled on it. Once done, she removed a handheld mirror which she always had in her bag. Making her way to the first-floor girl's bathroom, she observed the writing on the wall. Daphne looked at the mirror to check behind her, just to be safe.

The last thing she saw was a pair of great, big yellow eyes by the sink behind her as she dropped like a stone.

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The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor teams were mounting their brooms when Professor McGonagall came running across the pitch. She pointed her wand at her throat.

"Sonorus! This match has been cancelled. All students are to make their way to their common rooms immediately. Your Heads of House will give you further instructions. Move as quickly as you can!" she shouted.

She then turned to Harry and said, "Potter, I think you better come with me."

Some of the students were grumbling about the match being cancelled, others looked worried. Someone shouted from the crowd, "I bet Potter has murdered someone! Don't let him go!"

"Quiet!" barked McGonagall furiously. "Twenty points from Gryffindor and another word from any of you and you'll be very sorry indeed! All of you to your common rooms, NOW!"

Harry quietly followed her inside the castle, his face impassive as always. He wondered what was going on. Had there been another attack? Were they calling the Aurors for an official investigation again? Was he going to be suspended? If he was, then there was no way he was ever coming to Hogwarts after that. He had enough of these people's foolishness.

"This may be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall, looking at Harry worriedly. Harry wondered why she was looking at him that way. Her face was filled with dread and guilt. When they stepped inside the Hospital Wing, Harry's face went white as a sheet as he dropped his broomstick which fell to the floor with a clang.

Daphne Greengrass was lying on the bed, one arm extended forward, her beautiful face frozen in shock. She was petrified.

Harry was unable to move. He stood there silent, unable to breathe. Slowly, he made his way towards the bed, not able to tear his eyes away from the girl's face.

"She was found on the first floor," said Professor McGonagall softly. "She had this mirror in her hand. We're not sure why she had that mirror at all."

Harry wasn't listening to her though. He collapsed on the bed next to Daphne, unable to speak. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey looked at each other worriedly.

"Lord and Lady Greengrass have been informed," she said. "They'll be here soon. I know it doesn't count for much, but I would like to apologise for suspecting you, Potter. I really am sorry for not believing you like everyone else."

Harry couldn't believe that Daphne had been attacked. She was the only one at school who had stood by him without a smidgen of doubt. He didn't know why he felt as though his heart was literally shattering into pieces. He had never felt so attached to anyone before, but Daphne was special. She was his best friend and also his fiancée.

Silent tears rolled down Harry's cheeks as he sat down on the bed, holding Daphne's stiff hand. He didn't utter a sound and his face was completely blank except for the tear-filled eyes which were burning in sorrow and guilt.

Professor McGonagall sighed as she walked out of the Hospital Wing. For someone who had always seen an impenetrable mask on Harry's face, it was startling to see him actually crying, even if he never uttered a sound. Her heart clenched in guilt for suspecting him. Albus had to be informed about this. But first, she had to inform the students about the new rules she had decided to implement.

Ten minutes after she left, Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass strolled inside the castle. When they entered the Hospital Wing, they saw their eldest daughter lying on the bed, stiff as a rock. Harry was sitting on a chair next to her, looking off into the distance. When they approached closer to them, the elder Greengrasses were startled to see the tear stains on Harry's cheeks.

"Daphne," croaked Cyrus as he placed a hand on his daughter's forehead. She was so cold. Tears pricked his eyes as he looked at the boy who was sitting still, not looking at them.

"Harry," said Elizabeth softly as she moved over to him. "Harry, please, talk to us."

But he remained still, his eyes unfocused. "I will make them pay for this," he whispered, his green eyes darkening slightly. "When I get my hands on whoever is responsible, I will make them pay!"

"Harry – Harry, calm down," said Elizabeth, rubbing his back soothingly.

He closed his eyes, trying his best to get his emotions under control. His eyes were burning with rage and hate. It may be days, weeks, months or years – but he would find out who was responsible for this and he would kill them personally. They would pay for what they did to Daphne. His grip on her hand tightened.

Lucius Malfoy was going to die by his hand only. He was a dead man walking. Harry would wait. He was nothing if not patient. Sometime in the future, when he was powerful enough to take him, he would ensure that Lucius regretted messing with Harry. The man would suffer in the most painful way possible.

No one in Hogwarts School slept well that night. They were all in a state of shock. If Daphne Greengrass, a pureblood girl from one of the oldest families in the country and a Slytherin to boot was attacked, how safe were the rest? But one thing was clear.

Harry Potter was not the one attacking the Muggle-borns. Everyone knew from just watching them how deeply Harry cared about Daphne, so it was not difficult to conclude that they had suspected the wrong person. The Heir of Slytherin was still out there, attacking the students of Hogwarts. And he didn't seem to care about purebloods either.

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"Thank you, Mr Devonshire," said Lord Sirius Black as he looked at the file which contained the signed sheets of parchment. "I will have the agreed value of the shares purchased transferred to your vault."

"I assume the – information – will not make the light of day?" asked Mr Devonshire, sweating. He swallowed nervously. He had heard about the Black family information network and their ways of persuasion, but he had never had the pleasure of experiencing it himself. How the hell did Black find out that he was the owner of the Daily Prophet in the first place? He and his two business partners had ensured that it was kept quiet. The information Black had about them was too terrifying to even think about. But he would get back at Black one day. He wasn't going to be a sitting duck. He could already sense the subtle shift in power. Politics was heavily dependent on the media and Lord Sirius Black now controlled the Daily Prophet.

"Enjoy your day, Mr Devonshire," said Sirius with a smile. When the disgruntled and angry older man turned to walk towards the door, Sirius' smile dropped as he pointed his wand at the man's back.

"Obliviate!"

"Stupefy!"

"I think the D.M.L.E. would love to get their hands on you and your two friends," said Sirius with a smirk. "Smuggling illegal potions and artefacts; you all should realise now why the Blacks have always held power and why we have considered ourselves close to royalty. And it is time we got it back!"

"You should have left my son alone. Let's see what the Daily Prophets says about Harry Potter with me in charge."

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Harry waved his wand as he conjured a bunch of multi-coloured orchids which he placed at Daphne's bedside table. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone at Hogwarts since the incident. Sirius had told him about the change in ownership of the Daily Prophet. It was now equally owned by the Houses of Potter and Black, but of course, no one would know that. It was under an alias – under the name of one Frank Olive. Any information about the true holders of the shares was covered under a mountain of paperwork so that no one would bother looking for it - or find it. Sirius had gone an extra mile and actually created a fake identity for Frank Olive. No one would know that he never existed.

"I miss you," whispered Harry as he rubbed Daphne's hand with his thumb. He frowned when he felt something in her fist. He looked down and felt a sheet of parchment nested inside her hand and he spent several seconds trying to get it out. Once he smoothened the sheet, he read what was in it.

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

Harry frowned because he had ruled out the possibility of the creature being a basilisk. But he saw that Daphne had written something at the bottom of the sheet.

Pipes – plumbing inside the castle.

Ask Moaning Myrtle – may be able to find out more.

Windows – spiders acting strangely.

Hagrid's roosters – killed.

Ergo, the Basilisk.

But the basilisk's gaze kills, doesn't it? Then why wasn't anyone dead? Oh wait; no one did look the creature in the eye. All of them looked at it indirectly which was what caused the petrification in the first place. There had always been a barrier – water on the ground, a ghost, mirrors ...

Moaning Myrtle? She was the one killed fifty years ago, wasn't she? Harry's eyes widened. Why hadn't he thought about that before? Between all the studying he had been doing along with the shit he was dealing with from the students of the school and the rest of the country, he had discounted a major part of the mystery. His blood chilled when he thought about the basilisk that was at Hogwarts. He remembered what Amelia had told him months ago about a basilisk.

"And a good thing too," said Amelia darkly. "A basilisk will cause an international red alert because it can be used for mass destruction. Can you imagine the damage someone like Voldemort could do if he gained access to a basilisk? He could wreak havoc in scales we can't even imagine!"

Oh, dear Merlin! There was a bloody weapon of mass destruction right under the castle! He quickly got up and walked towards the first-floor corridor when he heard a voice echoing throughout the hallways.

"All students return to your their House common rooms at once! Teachers report to the staffroom immediately."

Harry frowned. Something must have happened. He cast a Notice-me-not charm over himself using the locket, silenced his feet and went over to the staffroom. He stood outside and cast an eavesdropping charm and listened.

"It's happened. A student has been taken right into the Chamber itself. The heir has left another message: Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever. This is going to be the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said ..." said McGonagall, sounding worried and scared.

"Who is it?" whispered Madam Hooch.

"Ginny Weasley," replied McGonagall morosely.

Harry left and quickly went towards the first-floor girl's bathroom. He had to verify Daphne's theory. He had actually never come to this part of the castle. He had no reason to come here too because the hallway did not connect to Ravenclaw Tower or any of his classrooms. Just as he entered the bathroom, he was assaulted by another memory.

He had found it! He could feel his excitement and elation at finding the entrance to Salazar Slytherin's famous Chamber of Secrets. It had taken him four years and now, he would find out what was here.

He looked at the sink in front of him. "Open," he said, slipping easily into Parseltongue as he always had. The sink expanded, leaving a pipe he could slide through.

Harry gasped when he came out of the memory, wincing in pain as he clutched his head. Breathing hard, he looked around and noticed that a ghost was watching him.

"Are you Myrtle?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, what do you want?" asked the ghost, looking grumpy.

"I was wondering if you could tell me how you died," he asked slowly.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then —" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" said Harry, narrowing his eyes, his mind working furiously as he put the pieces together

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes by that sink. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away …"

"Has someone else come to ask you about this?" asked Harry, going by a hunch. "Maybe Dumbledore …"

"Don't mention him in front of me!" screeched Myrtle angrily. "I hate that man! If he could control his precious Gryffindors better I would never have died! But no, Dumbledore always favoured his little lions. No one cared about poor Myrtle. No, even after I died, Hornby got away with it all, didn't she? Dumbledore ensured that she wasn't given any punishment. The last time Dumbledore tried to talk to me I ensured that he didn't sleep for weeks as I pestered him, blaming him for my death. I won't speak to him, now or ever. He doesn't care about poor, moping, Moaning Myrtle."

Harry blinked his eyes rapidly, processing that information. No wonder Snape got away with favouring the Slytherins so blatantly. Dumbledore used to do the same with the Gryffindors. Was it any wonder that House rivalry was as bad as it was with people like them in charge?

"Open," said Harry, slipping easily into Parseltongue like it was second nature to him. The tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for five people to slide into. His wand slipped out of its holster and into his waiting hand. Taking a deep breath, Harry jumped into the pipe.

It was like rushing down a dark, slimy slide. The light from the tip of his wand gave off an eerie image. Harry could see many other pipes which were branching off in several directions – Daphne's theory was right. The basilisk had been using the plumbing that had been installed in the castle to launch its attacks. It really was a brilliant design on Salazar's part. Plumbing had not been invented in the Muggle world at that time, but even though it was not necessary for magical castles, Salazar had adapted the technique to use it to deploy the basilisk. He cast the momentum arresting charm on himself as the end of the pipe neared and landed gracefully on both feet, eyes vigilant.

"Scourgify," he cast silently and all the slime that had gathered on his face and clothes disappeared, leaving him clean.

He was in some sort of wet tunnel. They were probably under the lake and he grimaced when he stepped on a mountain of fish bones. His body went stiff when he saw the snakeskin. It looked black from the distance but would shine a dark, blackish green when the light fell on it. There was a lot of shed skin here and he didn't even want to think about the size of the basilisk. He walked for a couple of minutes when he reached a great stone wall with two snakes intertwined. The eyes of the snakes were glittering emeralds.

"Open," hissed Harry.

The massive stone wall parted, giving him entry, as his hands shook slightly due to fear. Reinforcing his mental shields, Harry walked inside the Chamber of Secrets.