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Chapter Text

Harry,

I hope you are doing well, I have sent three letters but have not heard back. I hope that does not mean your aunt and uncle have locked you in your room already.

I know you said to keep my elf from your house, but I can’t help but worry. So, I hope you do not mind that I am sending this letter to you with Dobby. 

If you are able, I hope you may send a letter back with him so that I may know you are alright?

Draco

Draco,

I am not locked in my room, however, my aunt and uncle have locked up Hedwig so I am unable to send letters that way. Thank you for sending Dobby, I do not mind him here as long as he is not seen by my aunt and uncle. Thank you again for ensuring he does not steal my letters, since I was able to get yours, Ron’s, and Hermione’s.

It has only been four weeks and I already am missing school. I can’t help but feel immensely useless sitting here and not being able to do a thing to help with our research . I hope you have been able to find something useful at your home at least? If you are able to sneak out a book from your library that you think may be useful, I’d be happy to help in that way. 

From the sound of things, you seem to be getting on better with your friends? How was the solstice party? I can’t say I have much interesting to share with you about my summer. I’ve spent most of it doing chores and yard work. 

With this letter I’m sending one for Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid each, would you mind sending them? I can’t help but feel bad for being unable to reply to them all summer. 

Thanks again for sending Dobby,

Harry

Harry,

I am relieved to hear you are alright. I will make sure to send my future letters with Dobby so that you can respond, and he’s been told not to be seen. I’ve also sent your letters to Granger, Weasley, and Hagrid. 

I’ve sent Dobby with a book on runes you can look through if you’d like. See if you recognize any from the time-turner. Otherwise, I have been unable to find anything that may be of use. I’ve had much free time to look through the library as mother and father have been uncommonly busy this break. I believe Father has been busy dealing with the journal you spoke of. I hope you have a plan for that this year, I do not believe I would be able to do much before the school year has begun on that front. 

I have been getting on better with my year mates. Pansy has expressed her desire to spend more time together over the break, so she, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle have been over to my home often to play quidditch. We used to play often in the grounds around the manor when we were younger, so this feels very much like when we were little. Pansy seems less angry with me this break as well, so maybe you are right about her missing me as her friend. As much as they are entertaining to play with, I cannot help but wish you were here as well. I hope to compete with you this year as seekers once again. 

Yard work and chores sound dreadfully boring. Have you done nothing else? I hope you have started your homework at the very least.

Draco

Draco,

Thank you for the book, I will begin looking through it soon. I have been unable to do much else as my aunt and uncle have locked my belongings under the stairs. I’ll be doing my homework once I am able to leave here. Though, I cannot help but wonder if Ron will come to break me out now that I have sent him letters.

If I do not return, come and get me? Haha…

I think I have an idea regarding this year, but no promises on its viability. We shall see, I suppose. I can tell you in more detail when we see each other on the train. Hopefully, my plan will have worked.

I am happy to hear you and your friends are getting on again. I, too, wish I could be there to play a seeker’s game with you. The worst part of breaks is the lack of Quidditch. What I would not give to be able to go flying right now, maybe fly off and not return until next summer. 

Harry

Harry,

I apologize for my lack of letters, my parents were not fond of my use of Dobby as a messenger. I have snuck off to send him with another letter, though, as they did not explicitly order him not to deliver for me anymore. 

If they do not let you leave, or Weasley does not get you, I will make sure to send Dobby to retrieve you. I will not be attending an entire year without you. I have to make this letter quick as I do not have much time before my parents realize I am missing with our elf, but I hope you like the birthday cake I have sent with Dobby. I know it is a little early, but I was unsure if I would get another chance to send a letter. Also, I cannot say I have baked much, but I did learn to cook a little so hopefully it is edible. 

Happy Birthday,

Draco

Harry stared down at the cake Dobby had dropped off just minutes before. He’d returned after waiting a moment for Harry to send him back with a letter. The cake had green icing and was slightly lop-sided, but when Harry dipped his finger into the icing to try, it was delicious. He felt a smile tug at his lips. It was the first birthday gift he had received this year – the only gift he would receive this year at all. He suddenly wished Draco was here more than he had all summer. 

His moment of calm was quickly shattered by the sound of his aunt’s voice yelling for him downstairs to clean the blinds. Tomorrow would be the day of his uncle’s business deal. Harry hoped he’d be lucky enough this time around to not get the bars attached to his window. Dobby was told to stay away, so the probability that he’d be able to get through the night rather uneventfully was high. 

That was the only thought that helped him stay positive through the hours of chores he was made to complete over the next 48 hours. He still had no idea how he was going to get back to Hogwarts this year. Sure, he could take the knight bus to Ron’s house, but he wasn’t even supposed to know where he lived yet and he still had no way to get to his trunk. He wished more than anything at the moment that he could perform magic outside of school. 

The day of Uncle Vernon’s deal went rather uneventfully, though they did not seem to get the deal because Vernon spent the next three days moping about the house while Harry’s aunt gave him a chore list twice as long. 

By day five Harry was feeling about as morose as everyone else in the house. He hadn’t been able to talk to Draco in almost a week, he couldn’t write to Ron or Hermione either and he had read the book Draco’d sent cover to cover three times and hadn’t found a thing. 

Maybe he really wouldn’t be able to make it back to Hogwarts this school year. Or maybe Draco would have to come get him out. He let the funny thought of Draco bursting through the front door of his aunt and uncle’s home to get him out play through his head as he fell asleep. 

The next time he woke was to a light tapping on his window. He almost rolled back over to go back to bed when the tapping got more insistent. The room was pitch black when he rolled over to look out the window, but the street lights backlit the car flying at his window and he was up in a flash to pull the window open. 

“Ron?” He whispered incredulously. 

“All right, Harry?” George asked from the passenger seat. Harry managed a weak nod in response.

“Malfoy sent me a letter telling me to come get you out, didn’t really believe him at first, but then you stopped responding to my letters. What’s been going on?”

Draco had told Ron to come get him? Harry found himself grinning despite the rush they were all in. “He owl-ed you to get me?”

“Yeah,” said Fred, “Sent Ron like five owls too, 'cause Ron didn’t want to believe him.” 

“Recon Malfoy would’ve come to our house, himself next?” George said to Fred and the two of them snickered. 

Ron rolled his eyes at the two of them, but turned to Harry, “Hurry and get your things, we’ve come to take you home with us.”

Harry hurried to comply, grabbing Hedwig first to pass to Ron. “All my Hogwarts stuff is locked up downstairs in the cupboard, and if the Dursleys wake, I’ll be dead.”

“We’ll get your trunk, hand Ron all the things you need from your room,” Fred said, climbing out of the car and George following.

“Watch out for the bottom stair, it creaks,” Harry called after them in a whisper as they made their way into the hall. 

This time around, Harry had mostly packed his items up into a bag in hopes that he would still be picked up, and he was glad he had. He was able to shove it into the car to Ron and then hurry down the stairs to help Fred and George carry his trunk up the stairs. 

The trunk felt as though it weighed a ton and Harry, once again, found himself wishing he could use magic to make it lighter. They were able to get it through the window and into the car, though, and the twins followed it, settling themselves back in the front. 

At least one thing went easy for him this time, as he crawled into the back of the car with Ron, Uncle Vernon did not come running into his room. They were able to fly off into the night without a single mishap. Harry wished he could see their faces the next morning when they woke to find he had gone.

Harry let himself settle in and breathed a sigh of relief. 

The ride to the Weasleys’ was the most relaxed he’d felt since summer had started. He let the conversation wash over him, let the voices of Ron, Fred, and George soothe him and remind him that he’d be back at Hogwarts in a few short weeks. 

The sun was just coming up over the horizon as they reached the main road to their home. Ms. Weasley was just as mad this time around as she’d been the first time, but Harry still had to fight a smile as he listened to her chew her sons out. He’d missed her and this home and everything else. Before he’d been sent back in time, he was over every Saturday night for dinner, sometimes more. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed it until he was walking back through the door and being ushered to the dining table. 

He sat there taking it all in as Ms. Weasley continued to alternate between cooking at the stovetop and lecturing her sons. He smiled as she dumped some sausages onto his plate, her cooking always tasted the best to him, even better than Hogwarts food sometimes. He was about to dig into his food when he caught sight of Ginny. She’d just entered the kitchen in her nightdress, but she didn’t stay long, quickly running back out with a squeak. 

“That’s Ginny,” Ron said, sitting down on the chair next to him, “my little sister. She’s been talking about you non-stop all break.”

“Yeah, she’s probably gonna want your autograph,” Fred said with a snicker. 

Harry was too busy reeling from seeing her again to pay much attention to them, though. Seeing her a year ago at the train station was a shock, but seeing her again a year later, still only 11, it felt like it was all hitting him again. He wished she’d gone back in time with him, too. He didn’t want to live the next year, again, with her being awkward around him after having spent the last better part of a year being her boyfriend. He missed her. It was hard reconciling his memory of her with the reality of who she was at the moment - an 11-year-old girl who knew nothing about him except what everyone else knew. 

He was still brooding over it as they went to the yard to de-gnome the garden. He tried to find joy in tossing them over the fence – something he enjoyed even after doing it for years – but all he could think about was Ginny and how badly this year was going to suck with her so close all year, but just as far away. 

“You’re a natural at that,” George complimented as he threw his next gnome. The leathery gnome flew several feet into the air before landing with a thud several feet away on the other side of the fence. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, with probably not enough enthusiasm because then Ron was looking over at him. 

“Yeah, de-gnoming sucks. Especially when they bite– ow!” The gnome he was holding bit down on Ron’s fingers and he dropped the thing like it was on fire. The gnome quickly ran from him, ducking back into the vegetation. 

Fred and George quickly turned the chore into a competition after that, filling the sky with the fat, potato-looking creatures. The sight did manage to make him cheer up a bit. 

Just as the last of the gnomes were exiting the garden, the sound of the front door slamming could be heard across the yard.

“Dad’s home!” George shouted, hurrying back toward the house, the other three following behind. 

“What a night. Nine raids! Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I was not looking, too,” Mr. Weasley was saying as the four of them entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. 

The word raid made Harry think back to his time as an auror, how many raids had been done on known death-eater homes right after the war, and just how many objects the ministry recovered from those raids. It didn’t seem Mr. Weasley’s raids were as productive for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department, though. But, it didn’t seem like other departments were as unproductive…

“Have you ever seen any time turners during raids?” Harry found himself blurting out before he could think better of it.

“Time turners?” Mr. Weasley asked, seeming to finally notice Harry at the table. 

“I–” he started to answer when Ms. Weasley burst into the kitchen brandishing a long poker. 

“HOW ABOUT FLYING CARS?”

“C-cars, Molly, dear?” Mr. Weasley’s eyes were wide as he stared up at his angry wife. 

“Yes, Arthur, cars,” she replied, her tone furious as she told him what their three sons had been up that night. The only thing of her rant that seemed to catch his attention, though, was the mention of Harry’s name, and suddenly he was the center of everyone’s focus once again. 

Thankfully, it did not stay that way for long, as Ms. Weasley was not finished being angry at her husband. Though, her husband’s focus was once again not on her anger, but rather on how successful the car had been. This only led to Ms. Weasley’s anger growing and soon Ron was pulling Harry out of the room to take him to his bedroom. 

He spotted Ginny once again as they climbed the stairs, looking at them from a crack in the door that quickly shut as they passed. Harry wasn’t able to ruminate on it for long, however, as he was soon thrown back in time by stepping into Ron’s room. The entire place was bright orange – the color of his favorite team, the Chudley Cannons – from his bedspread to the decorations, Ron’s room was completely overtaken by the team’s merchandise. 

“Chudley Cannons,” Harry said as he ran his fingers across a poster by the door. 

“You know them?” Ron asked, clearly excited.

“Yeah, ninth in the league right now, right?” Harry replied, and Ron was more than happy to launch into a conversation about his favorite team. Any of the embarrassment over his room from the first time around completely vanished, and Harry felt like he’d accomplished something at the very least.

By the time it was time to go to Diagon Alley to get the supplies, Harry was more than happy to get out of the house. As much as he loved being there, he was starting to feel a little jittery. All the awkwardness from Ginny was starting to grate on his nerves and seemed to be rubbing off on him, as well. His discomfort apparently was noticeable, too, because Fred and George had seemed to pick up on it. They knew of Ginny’s crush on him and had begun to give him looks every time the two of them were in a room. When the two of them managed to catch him alone – which thankfully wasn’t very often – they’d taken to teasing him as well. Most of it was little things like asking him if he’d given her his autograph yet or if she’d asked for it. Some of it, though, just left him confused. On one occasion they’d asked him if Draco knew he was becoming friends with Ginny and then walked off snickering when he gave them a look of confusion. 

Ginny was hardly his friend, she wouldn’t even talk to him. So, really, he could only stare in confusion as they left.

When he’d gotten his letter with the list of books, he’d rolled his eyes at the long list of Gilderoy Lockhart books. Now, though, he’d take dealing with meeting him in the bookshop if it got him out of the house for a little bit. Maybe this time he could avoid being noticed by him?

Probably not with his luck.

This time he managed to not end up in Knockturn Alley, so he counted that as a win. He emerged in the Leaky Cauldron to find the rest of the Weasleys waiting for him. At Gringotts Bank, they meet up with Hermione and Mr. Weasley immediately begins talking her parents’ ears off.

“Dad really loves muggle stuff,” Ron says to Hermione when she greets them.

“We’ll meet you back here,” Harry says as Ms. Weasley finally manages to drag her husband away. 

Harry eyes the vaults as they make their way down the tracks, thinking about how long it’ll be until he has to come back here to get that Horcrux. The reminder that he’d be dealing with one sooner rather than later makes him shudder a little. He should probably tell Draco about the Horcruxs soon. At the moment, all Draco knew was that the diary was how Voldemort was able to control Ginny, but not what it truly was. 

Maybe that wasn’t the best idea, to not tell him, but Harry sometimes found himself hoping that maybe this all would be a dream or they’d be able to make it back to their own time, and he wouldn’t have to relieve it all. Wouldn’t have to think about it. And if he told Draco, it would be like admitting that would never happen.

However, even with his growing stress over the necessary conversation, all he could find himself thinking about was that Draco would be at the bookstore today. He would finally be able to see him again after weeks of only letters. It took everything in him to not make Ron and Hermione go to the bookshop early. He knew Draco wouldn’t be there just yet anyway. 

By the time they reached Flourish and Blotts, he was practically buzzing with excitement and his friends were finally starting to take notice. “ Gilderoy Lockhart ,” Ron read the sign outside the shop, “ will be signing copies of his autobiograph y–”

“You like him too, Harry?” Hermione asked excitedly, completely misinterpreting his excitement. 

“Nah, he’s a fraud,” Harry muttered without thinking, already making his way inside and pushing past middle-aged witches, “Draco’s supposed to be here.”

“Ah,” was all Hermione said and Ron followed behind, already grumbling about Draco.

Ron and Hermione grabbed copies of Break with a Banshee and Harry fumbled to grab one himself, still searching the crowded bookshop and hoping to catch sight of blond hair. They joined the Weasleys in the line and Harry only passingly took note of Ms. Weasley’s continual fixing of her hair before going back to search for Draco. He had to be here, right? Or did he arrive when Harry was already leaving? He couldn’t remember and it was driving him crazy. 

“What’s up with Harry?” He heard Fred ask.

“He’s looking for Malfoy,” was Ron’s annoyed response. Then, Ron was getting shoved by an annoyed cameraman and Lockhart was noticing Harry and calling him up to the stage.

However, Harry didn’t hear any of it because he was catching sight of Draco up on the stairs to the loft above. He was moving towards Draco almost immediately, but he didn’t make it far because the next thing he knew, Lockhart was grabbing onto him and pulling him to the front. He would’ve fought the grip had he been paying any attention at all. As it was, it took him so off guard, he let himself be dragged up to stand next to Lockhart before he could even make sense of what was happening. 

“It can’t be Harry Potter? Got somewhere more important to be?” he asked with his stupid laugh when Harry tried to find Draco again on the stairs. Draco was already looking at him – laughing at him – that git. 

“Kind of,” he ground out, not caring if it was probably rude. 

“Well I hope you can spare a moment of your time,” he said with a fake laugh, grabbing onto his hand to shake. “Now give them a nice big smile, won’t you?” he said, grinning towards the camera. “Together, you and I are worth the front page.”

The first time this had happened, he’d felt awkward and confused. This time around he just found himself annoyed. He turned that annoyance onto the cameras and not smiling in a fit of pettiness. Let the Daily Profit make up some stupid claims about him from that. Maybe they can start a couple years early. 

When Lockhart let go of his hand, Harry immediately moved to step away. Lockhart was faster, though, throwing an arm over his shoulders and dragging him back in. Harry barely managed to suppress a glare. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he proclaimed to the crowd, “How extraordinary this is! What a perfect time for me to make an announcement that I have been sitting on for some time!” From there, Harry did his best to not look as annoyed as he felt, and to ignore everything else that came out of Lockhart’s mouth. 

When the crowd cheered and Lockhart finally dumped his stack of books into Harry’s arms, he hurried away as fast as he could. He was finally able to make it toward the stairs where Draco was standing, still laughing at him. 

He could feel people still watching him, but he didn’t care. He dropped the books on a random shelf and threw his arms around Draco’s shoulders. 

Draco was still laughing at him softly, but Harry didn’t much care. He tightened his grip around Draco’s shoulders and buried his face into Draco’s hair that had gotten longer over the summer. He smelled clean and like fresh laundry. “I missed you,” Harry said into his shoulder.

Draco, who’d wrapped his arms around Harry’s back, tightened his grip slightly. “I missed you, too.”

“Well,” a cool voice said, one that Harry recognized instantly. Draco stiffened, pulling back from Harry hurriedly. Harry dropped his own arms from Draco’s shoulders. “If it isn’t Harry Potter. From what I’ve heard, you’re close friends with Draco. Though, he hardly tells me these things himself. “Harry made to respond when he was cut off by Lucius Malfoy. “Arthur Weasley, too.”

“Lucius,” Mr. Weasley responded, just as curt. 

“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids… I hope they’re paying you overtime?” Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had now joined them and Malfoy reached into Ginny’s cauldron to pull out the beat-up copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration . Harry’s eyes locked onto his hands, missing anything else that was said. 

It seemed in his focus on retrieving the book from Ginny, he’d forgotten about the fistfight that had broken out between Malfoy and Mr. Weasley. One second he was watching Malfoy grab the book out of Ginny’s cauldron and the next he was getting hit by Mr. Weasley. 

Harry stepped back, standing next to Draco who appeared to be biting back a laugh. Harry grinned at him and he grinned back.

Soon, Ms. Weasley, the twins, and Hagrid were joining them, trying to break up the fight– well, Ms. Weasly and Hagrid were, Fred and George were cheering and shouting suggestions on where to hit next.

When Hagrid finally managed to pull them off one another, Malfoy straightened up with as much dignity as one could have after rolling on the floor of a bookshop in a fight with another grown adult and brushed himself off. “Here, girl – take your book – it’s the best your father can give you.” And there it was, he was dropping Ginny’s book and the diary into her cauldron. His heart pounded and one look at Draco told him he’d noticed it too. Draco met his eyes, his look saying you better figure that one out . Then Malfoy was steering Draco back out of the shop.

Ms. Weasley was beside herself, lecturing her husband the whole way out the door. 

“Here,” Harry said, grabbing both books out of Ginny’s cauldron and stacking the transfiguration one onto his stack of Lockhart’s books. He dropped the stack back into her cauldron and slipped the diary into one of his bags from a different store. “You keep them, I don’t want them anyway.”

With that, he followed the Weasleys out of the store and back to the Leaky Cauldron to floo home. He finally felt like he was able to change something for the better.

Chapter Text

By the time the day came to head back to Hogwarts, Harry felt like he was going to buzz out of his skin. The diary had been sitting at the bottom of his trunk for the last couple weeks with no one the wiser, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous. If he was around it too much, would it start to affect him the same way the locket had? Or not because it was in a trunk? 

He really wanted to destroy it sooner rather than later. 

That was another thing he had to deal with, too, of course. He had to destroy the diary somehow, either by fiendfyre or with basilisk venom. However, he wasn’t too keen on starting a fiendfyre, and he had no idea how he was going to get Basilisk venom. 

Well… that wasn’t exactly true. He did know where to get it, the problem was how he would get away with it. What on earth would he say if anyone caught him? Last time he’d had a reason. The basilisk was petrifying students. It still wouldn't be a great idea to leave the thing wandering around down there for someone to ever stumble upon in the future, but he couldn’t exactly use the reasoning that he just knew there was a giant snake under the school. He didn’t need all the rumors, again, from when he’d first been discovered as a Parselmouth. 

This time, they were still nearly late for the train, but Harry still stopped to put his hand against the entrance to the platform. When his had passed though he let out a sigh of relief. 

“What are you doing? We’re going to be late,” Ron complained. 

“Just making sure we can get through.”

Ron gave him a look like he thought Harry may be going crazy, “Why wouldn’t we be able to get through?”

Harry just shrugged and the two of them ran together through the wall. When they got through it was practically a mad dash to get onto the train with their luggage, but thankfully they were able to get on before the train set off. 

They quickly found Hermione, already seated in an empty compartment, and nose buried in one of the textbooks. 

“Hey,” Ron greeted as he dragged his trunk into the compartment. Harry levitated both of their trunks onto the racks overhead. 

“Hey,” Hermione replied, putting the book aside as Ron sat down next to her. “I almost thought you two had missed the train, I didn’t see you on the platform.”

“We almost did,” Harry said, sitting down across. 

“Kept having to go back,” Ron complained. “Fred and George both forgot stuff.”

As cool as flying the car had been at first, he was glad to be on the train this time around. They bought sweets to share and Hermione tried telling them all about Lockhart’s books, which Harry and Ron complained the whole way through. 

“Did you not read the books yet?” Hermione asked.

“Not a chance, I barely even did the summer work,” Ron said.

“I didn’t even buy the books,” Harry said. 

Ron and Hermione turned to stare at him.

“How on earth are you going to do the work?” Hermione asked, aghast. 

Harry shrugged, “I’m sure I can figure it out.” Hermione looked fit to launch into a lecture, but she didn’t get the chance. The door to their compartment flew open and a smile spread across Harry’s face at the sight of Draco. 

“Finally found you,” Draco said with a groan, dropping onto the seat next to Harry. “First, Pansy would not let me leave and then I had to look through about a hundred compartments.” Harry laughed, nudging Draco’s knee with his own. 

“Great, Malfoy’s back,” Ron grumbled. Hermione nudged him in the ribs.

“‘Course, can’t make Harry wait until we reach the castle,” Draco said with a smirk that made Harry blush. 

“Thought you wouldn’t be stopping by after my father beat yours in a fight.”

“Oh, that? I thought that rather funny, actually.”

Ron sat up, “Yeah, especially when my father gave yours the black eye.”

“Of course,” Draco replied agreeably, “If my father held his tongue as often as he tries to tell me to do so, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up with one. But, alas, my father does not always seem to be as good at following the lessons as he is at preaching them.”

Ron appeared to be looking at Draco as if seeing him in a completely new light. “You think he deserved to get punched?”

Draco’s nose wrinkled, “Well, I think throwing punches in the bookstore like school children as grown adults is a bit childish, but I don’t think my father was right to say what he did. He deserves to get a physical representation of the effects of his words sometimes.”

Ron was grinning at him now, smile wide, and Harry wondered if maybe they’d be able to be friends this year. 

“But, Harry, I’d like to speak to you for a moment,” Draco said, standing up for Harry to follow. 

“Sure,” Harry said, trying his best to not feel nervous. “I’ll be back,” Harry said to Ron and Hermione.

“See ya,” Ron said, and Hermione gave him a smile.

Draco pulled him down the hall, trying to find an empty compartment. Draco seemed to be annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t find one but Harry was happy just to be hanging out with Draco again; smiling down where Draco was pulling him along by his hand. Finally, Draco pulled one open and came face to face with Luna. 

“Oh, hello,” she said as she looked up from her Quibbler. 

“Hi,” Harry said, excited to see his old friend even if she didn’t remember him. “Sorry, we are looking for an empty compartment.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling, “I see. You two are both covered in wrackspurts.”

Harry grinned, he missed her, “Wrackspurts?” he asked and Draco, who had stiffen slightly when they walked in, made a face.

“Oh yes, not harmful, but can make your mind cloudy. Makes sense you two would attract them. I can show you how to get rid of them, sometime.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed, “That’d be great.”

“We should go,” Draco said tugging on his hand slightly. Harry hadn’t even realized that they hadn’t let go of one another, but he didn’t mind. 

“See you later, Luna,” Harry said, hardly even realizing he’d called her by name. 

Luna looked down at their joined hands and said, “Bye, Harry.”

“She was nice to me, you know, after Hogwarts, even after–” Draco whispered to him when they were well out of hearing range.

Harry didn’t need Draco to finish to know what he meant. “She’s always been kind, and I think she’s smart enough to tell the difference between good and bad people.”

“I guess,” Draco said noncommittally. They finally found an empty compartment then, and Harry locked the door and pulled the blinds closed when they entered. Harry pulled the diary out of his hoodie pocket then, he hadn’t wanted to leave it in his trunk, too worried Hogwarts staff would find it when they searched for contraband. 

“Here,” Harry said, handing it over to Draco.

“This is what You-Know-Who was using to open the chamber? It’s just a regular diary.” He flipped through it. “And it’s empty.”

“If you write in it, then words will appear. Like you’re writing notes to someone.”

“Oh,” Draco said, flipping back to the first page. “ T.M. Riddle . Tom Riddle, that’s his name right?” He ran his finger over the name on the back of the diary. “What’s the M stand for?”

“Marvolo.” Harry took the diary back and shoved it back in his pocket. “It’s also a Horcrux.”

“Horcrux?” 

“Yeah,” and Harry found himself explaining what it was and how one was made. Draco stared down at Harry’s pocket where the journal was with a look of horror.

“And you just have that in your pocket?” he said incredulously. 

“Well, where else am I going to put it?”

Draco didn’t respond, just kept staring. Eventually, he asked, “And there are seven of these?”

“Well, six at the moment. He doesn’t turn his snake into a Horcrux until later.”

“His snake?” Draco asks, a look of pure disgust coming across his face.

“Yeah, Nagini.”

“What are the others?”

“There’s a goblet, locket, ring, and diadem.”

Draco ticks off his fingers, “That’s only six.” When Harry doesn’t respond, Draco reaches out and touches Harry’s arm, “What’s the seventh?”

“You don’t want to know,” Harry responds. Stepping away from Draco to sit on the bench.

Draco follows him after a second but doesn’t touch him again. “I’m sure whatever it is, we can handle it right? Just some basilisk venom, right? We’ll hold onto some this year, yeah?”

Harry grimaces, “It won’t be that simple.”

“What do you mean? That’s how you said they’re destroyed, right? I mean, even if it’s different, you did it before. We could do it again.”

Harry let out a sigh, there wasn’t any way around it. “Voldemort only meant to make six. The last one was an accident.” Draco remained silent, patiently waiting for Harry to continue. “On the night he killed my parents and my mother protected me, his spell backfired on him and his soul split another time. With nowhere else to go, it attached itself to me.” He reached up to touch his scar, “That’s partly why I have this. It’s from him. The night he tried to kill me, he accidentally made me his Horcrux. How ironic is that?” Harry let out a humorless chuckle. 

When he looked up at Draco, he was giving him a look equal parts fear and horror. For a moment, Harry thought Draco was fearful of him until Draco threw himself forward to pull Harry into a fierce hug and he realized he was afraid for him . 

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco in return and answered the question that Draco hadn’t asked but was surely wondering. “To destroy it, Voldemort has to kill me himself.”

“What?” Draco asked, voice sounding choked and his grip around Harry got tighter.

“That’s how I was able to defeat him, he had to kill me in the forest.”

“But you were alive, you are alive…”Draco pulled away to stare at him in confusion. 

“Yeah, I was able to make it back. That’s really a whole other story, but the gist is that Voldemort killed the piece of his soul that was in me rather than actually killing me.”

“Okay, so you just have to do that again. You’ll be fine.” Draco sounded a bit like he was trying to reassure himself more than Harry.

“Yeah, I’ll just do it again. Easy,” Harry said with the best smile he could manage, Draco gave him a wobbly one in return. 

After a while, they made their way back to Harry’s compartment, Draco stopping only to say bye before heading back to his own. 

“You were gone a while,” Ron said when Harry sat down across from his two friends. 

“Sorry, had a lot to talk about, he wasn’t able to send me any letters the last few weeks before school started.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Hermione said, but didn’t expand any further. Harry shrugged and dug into the snacks. 

This year Harry was happy to be able to sit in the great hall to enjoy the feast with everyone else. He even got to watch Ginny’s sorting which he hadn’t gotten to see the first time. He gave her a wide smile when she joined the table, but she just turned red and quickly turned away. Oh well , he thought to himself and then sought out Draco across the hall. Draco was already staring back and gave him a smile when he noticed Harry looking. Harry couldn’t help but feel bummed that Draco hadn’t joined them, but he was happy Draco was back hanging out with his friends. 

His excitement at being back was only dimmed by the fact that he had to attend Lockhart’s class for defense after lunch. Lockhart had caught him in the courtyard at lunch with Colin Creevey, and while this time Draco hadn’t been shouting about Harry giving out signed photos, Lockhart had still noticed and seemed to believe Harry was trying to work on his publicity. Again . Harry figured he rather have Quirrell and Voldemort back teaching. 

He sat at the back of the class for defense and when the quiz was passed out he didn’t even bother to fill it out. Even if he had the books or read them, he knew he wouldn’t know the answers. Instead, he sat there staring out the window until it was time to pass them back.

“Tut, tut – hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac,” Lockhart said once all the papers were collected and Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “And someone didn’t even fill it out…” Some snickers at that. “...but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions – good girl! Full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?”

Hermione’s face was red enough you could’ve fried an egg on it. Harry let out an annoyed sigh, slumping down in his chair. 

The lesson was as bad as the quiz – absolute chaos as the pixies were let loose upon the classroom. Books were shredded, chairs and desks were overturned, everything on the shelves was thrown to the ground, bags were overturned, Neville was lifted in the air and hung from the candelabra. Harry grabbed his bag, put it on his lap, and cast a protection charm around him. Then, he sat there glaring at Lockhart where he stood at the front of the room. 

Soon, Lockhart’s wand was being tossed from the room and the students were screaming in terror under the desks that had remained upright. When Lockhart went under his own desk, too, Harry stood with an annoyed sigh and levitated Neville off the candelabra before he could fall. Neville went to thank Harry, but before he could even get the words out, Harry was casting an Immobulus on all the pixies. 

The room went silent just as the bell rang to mark the end of classes. Students ran to collect their things and hurry out of the classroom, lest the things start moving again. 

“Good job, Harry,” Ron said breathlessly. 

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” Hermione asked, her hair even messier than usual.

“Great job, Harry!” Lockhart called from where he was just rising from under the desk. “Now, I’ll just ask you three to get the rest of them in the cage and–” Lockhart made like he was going to leave the room, but he’d barely taken a step before Harry was sending all the pixies shooting back into their cage with a spell. The cage locked itself, the force of the spell sending it spinning across the desk. 

Lockhart stared at the cage.

Hermione and Ron stared at him.

Harry grabbed his things and left the room.

Chapter Text

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful. He met up with Draco during his free periods before lunch Wednesday and in the afternoons on Thursday and Friday. Draco gave him the update on his summer research which was essentially that there was no update. The library at the manor proved to be essentially useless. Or at least he hadn’t found anything so far. 

During his second defense lesson on Wednesday, Lockhart pulled him aside to ask why he had not filled out his quiz. “I couldn’t help but notice you were the only one in my classes who turned in the quiz blank,” he said after class had ended, though he hardly gave time for Harry to even formulate a response before he was coming to his own conclusions as per usual. “Of course, we all have bad days, and your performance in my class was excellent. But just remember, you always have to try hard in your studies, Harry. Fame won’t get you everywhere!” He flashed one of his bright smiles that showed every one of his teeth. Harry kind of wanted to punch him.

“Sure, Professor,” he said instead.

“That’s how I got to where I am, of course. One day you may be almost as famous as I am, and I can help you to get there, but I want you to make sure your studies come first.”

“Sure,” he said again, teeth gritted.

Lockhart gave him a hearty slap to the back that rocked Harry forward slightly. “I will excuse this one this once, since I am sure it was only a product of a bad day, yes? Now run along to your next class, I don’t want you to be late!”

“Sure,” he said again, not bothering to mention that he was done until astronomy that night. 

“I can not believe that he just excused you!” Hermione exclaimed when he told her and Ron what had happened later. 

“Yeah, you have to teach me how to do that!” Ron said jealously. 

“If I had any idea, I would mate,” Harry said, “I just don’t think he’s very good at picking up social cues. Or he’s just ignoring them outright.”

Hermione had fumed silently the rest of the night, and Harry half hoped that’d be enough to make her stop liking Lockhart so much. He couldn’t be so lucky, though, because the next day she was back to mooning over him again. 

The most eventful thing happened Saturday when Oliver Wood came to wake him up before the sun was even up for Quidditch. Colin had caught him on the stairs on the way down and followed him all the way out to the pitch where he found a seat in the stands to watch. Harry let out a sigh, he half felt bad about not just giving him a picture or autograph. He remembered seeing him laid out on the ground of the great hall after the battle of Hogwarts and he really couldn’t find it in himself to truly be that annoyed by him. 

Wood, on the other hand, he had no problem being annoyed at. He spent well over an hour in the locker room explaining his new tactics to everyone. Harry spent most of that time dozing off like everyone else. Harry loved Quidditch, but he did not love strategy talks that lasted over an hour. 

The problem with spending all that time in the locker room made itself known shortly after they were all in the air: the Slytherin team was coming over to claim the field. Wood was none too happy about the interruption and made his way over to voice it to the Slytherin captain. Harry followed behind, the twins touching down only moments after. 

They were already arguing when Harry dropped down next to Wood, but he wasn’t listening much to them as his eyes landed on Draco. His face held a look of embarrassment that only got worse once he noticed Harry, too, and when Flint started showing off the brooms Draco’s father had purchased. 

Harry had a feeling the broom thing might not have been Draco’s idea this year as his face burned with embarrassment and his eyes met the floor. He seemed to be wanting to melt into the ground and disappear,  but he wasn’t so lucky. The next moment, Flint was pushing Draco forward as he bragged about the newest seeker and new brooms.

Harry felt bad for Draco as Wood turned the full force of his glare onto him. Draco, for his part still seemed to be trying to hide, even now at the front of the group. Draco looked so miserable about the new brooms, Harry couldn’t even find it in himself to feel jealous over the new models. 

Then Ron and Hermione were joining them, from where they were sitting in the stands, to see what the commotion was about. “What’s happening?” Ron asked as he joined them.

“Introducing our new seeker,” Flint said with a sneer.

“You’re the new seeker?” Hermione said, addressing Draco. 

“Yeah,” Draco said, much less victoriously than he had the first time when he had been bragging about the brooms.

“Congratulations,” said Hermione, “I know you’ve been wanting to play against Harry.”

Draco burned even redder if that was even possible and only managed to mumble a “Thanks,” before Wood was arguing with Flint again. In the end, Gryffindor's team ended up having to leave the field before even getting to start practicing. There wasn’t much that even Wood could do about a letter from one of the professors. He did storm off the field to go find Professor McGonagall and try, though. Harry suspected he’d be back on the field early again tomorrow. For now, Harry rounded up his things from the locker room to go down to Hagrid’s with Ron and Hermione.

When he exited, however, he found Draco waiting for him. “Hey,” Draco said when Harry emerged. 

“Hey,” Harry replied, “Nice broom.”

Draco flushed, glaring down at the broom like it had personally offended him. “I told father I didn’t want him to buy the whole team a new broom. I wanted to make it onto the team on talent.”

“You coulda. Made it on talent, I mean. You’d fly circles around everyone out there.”

Draco looked up at him, flush still there, but now grinning smugly, “Oh yeah? Does that include you?”

“Nah, not a chance,” Harry laughed, reaching out to shove at Draco’s shoulder. “You’re not that good.” A pause; then softer, “Though I’m excited to see you try, I missed you last year.”

Draco’s smug smile turned into something softer and more genuine. “Yeah, I missed being in the air with you, too.”

Harry grinned at him about to say something more when Hermione’s voice reached his ears. “Harry, are you coming?” She was walking toward the two of them, Ron following behind, and she just seemed to notice Draco was there too. “Oh, hi Malfoy.”

“Granger,” Draco said in greeting, “Weasley.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the field,” Ron said, though it was more teasing than it might have been just a week ago.

“Probably,” Draco responded, readjusting his broom in his hand. “I’ll see you later, Harry.” Then, he was headed off to join his team on the field. 

“What’d he want?” Ron asked as the three of them set off for Hagrid's. 

Harry shrugged, “Just wanted to say hi, I guess? His father bought the brooms, wasn’t his idea.”

“Oh, good,” Hermione said, “It didn’t look like he was very happy about it.”

“He wasn’t,” Harry agreed.

When they neared Hagrid’s, they found Lockhart just leaving. Harry let out a sigh, he forgot just how annoying he’d been to all the professors, too. 

“What do you think he’s doing here?” Ron asked.

“Probably being a nuisance,” Harry grumbled, and he was only proven right when Hagrid opened the door scowling, thinking they were Lockhart back to bother him more. 

They all ended up sat around Hagrid’s table with treacle toffee and tea. Harry found himself grateful Ron wasn’t throwing up slugs this time around, though he wished he could do something about Hermione’s infatuation with their defense teacher. She was currently defending him to Hagrid.

“Just ‘cause he’s good-looking doesn’t mean he has any brains,” Harry said after a few minutes of listening to Hermione’s Lockhart defense. Hermione looked taken aback, Ron looked downright gleeful, and Hagrid, amused. “Anyone else find it funny that he’s completely incompetent when it comes to second-year classes? He can’t handle pixies, but yet has defeated vampires and captured giants?”

“He’s written books about it all,” Hermione tried to defend, “And it’s all real events, he can’t have made it up when it’s really happened.” She looked at him like she was sure this would prove him wrong.

“I’m sure someone did that stuff,” Harry agreed, “All I’m saying is that memory charms exist and he’s really good at them. Probably the only thing he’s good at.”

Ron was grinning, clearly excited over the turn of the conversation. “I’ve been saying he’s only said he’s done it! He’s just a fake trying to get famous.”

“Speakin’ of, I hear you’ve bin given’ out signed photos. How come I haven’t got one?” Hagrid asked, chuckling. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Three guesses where you heard that from.”

“I told Lockhart yeh didn’ need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin’.”

“I bet he was happy to hear that.” Harry laughed; if only he could’ve seen his face. 

“Not a bit,” Hagrid agreed, “An’ then I told him I’d never read one o’ his books an’ he decided ter go.”

“Harry hasn’t even bought his books for class,” Ron put in and Hagrid burst out laughing. 

“Best not let him catch yeh,” Hagrid said when he calmed. 

“How are you even getting your work done without the books?” Hermione complained. Harry gave her an unconcerned shrug and Hagrid laughed more. 

“Come an’ see what I’ve got growin’,” Hagrid said after he had stopped laughing and guided them outside to see the pumpkins he had for Halloween.

“They’re huge!” Ron exclaimed upon seeing them. 

Hagrid chuckled. “That’s what yer little sister said when she came down here yesterday. Said she was jus’ lookin’ round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin’ to find someone else at my house. Bet she wouldn’ say no to a signed photograph.”

Ron snorted with laughter; however, Hermione turned to Hagrid, her face the picture of innocence, and said meaningfully, “I think Harry was busy hanging out with Malfoy, then.”

“I see,” Hagrid said, and Harry couldn't help but feel like he was missing something. He didn’t dwell on it long, though, because the three of them were soon heading back up to the castle for lunch. Harry, who hadn’t eaten all day except for some of Hagrid’s treacle toffee, was starving. 

Sunday found him sitting next to Draco at the Gryffindor table, for the first time since the prior year, and exhausted from a long day of quidditch practice. Harry was leaning against Draco, head on his shoulder and tying not to fall asleep face-first in his food.

“Alright, Harry?” George asked from a little down the table, him and Fred were snickering at him, but Harry thought they looked just as tired, so they had no room to judge.

“Great,” Harry said back, sleepily, and took another slow bite of his food. 

“I wanted to talk to you after dinner,” Draco said then, eating normally from his plate, even with Harry laying on him, “But if you’re too tired–”

“I’m fine!” Harry said, sitting up rapidly enough to make him slightly dizzy, “I’ll meet with you after.” Draco looked at him skeptically but didn’t argue. 

Hermione, on the other hand… “You need to sleep, you have classes tomorrow, and I didn’t even see you do the defense homework that is due after lunch.”

“He doesn’t even have the books to do the essay, so who cares,” Ron laughed. 

“You really ought to order them,” Hermione said.

“Wait, I thought you got all his books for free at the bookstore, what happened to those?” Draco asked. 

“Gave ‘em to Ginny, didn’t want them.”

“Oh,” Draco said, then looked down the table where Ginny was sitting. Harry followed his gaze to her and when he found her already looking, he sent her a smile. She immediately turned bright red and turned her face away.

He didn’t even have time to feel frustrated over the continued awkwardness between them, because then Draco was shifting even closer to him on the bench and winding his left arm under Harry’s right. Harry turned to give Draco a smile. He had no idea how Draco knew he was upset about Ginny, but he appreciated the comfort anyway. 

When he turned back to his other two friends, Hermione was trying to cover a laugh with her hand.

“What? I thought you were mad I didn’t have the books, and now you think it’s funny?” Harry asked, confused. 

“Oh, I am mad, I’m not laughing at that,” Hermione said, trying and failing to hide her grin. Harry rolled his eyes, putting his head back on Draco’s shoulder.

Girls were weird. 

After dinner, Harry followed Draco out of the great hall and down to their unofficial meeting area behind the portrait of a witch. The place was just as they’d left it, completely untouched and Draco moved about, casting new cleaning charms to remove the fine layer of dust that had settled over everything. 

“Well, at least we know that no one else is going to find this place,” Harry said as he took a seat on the couch. Draco sat down next to him, pulling his legs up under him. “What did you want to talk about?”

“How are we going to destroy the diary?”

No lead up there, huh? Harry thought back to the diary that was currently sitting at the bottom of his trunk in his room. Right now it was safe from being found, but he had little idea how long that would stay true. Fred and George could decide to play a prank tomorrow that turns his trunk on end and the diary would quickly become a thing of interest… no, they couldn’t just leave it there for much longer. 

“We need to get basilisk venom from the chamber of secrets,” Harry said.

“Won’t that let the snake lose?”

“Not if I kill it.”

“Didn’t you say you had help last time? The sword of Gryffindor and the headmaster’s bird? How are you going to defeat that thing without either?”

Draco was right. Not only that, but it brought up more issues, how was he going to defeat the thing and not look absolutely insane in the process? If he went down there now and killed it, even if he managed to succeed, he wouldn’t be able to stay out of trouble. If he kept it a secret, then he’d feel guilty not at least telling Ron and Hermione. And he’d look borderline crazy going up to them and saying, ‘ Hey, so there’s a giant 50-foot-long snake beneath the school and I’m going to go down there to kill it. Be back in a minute .’ 

No, that wouldn’t work. 

“I half think you should just open it and make the thing go after the ghosts and stuff. Then you can act all insane in the dueling lessons again, speaking to snakes, and when the whole school starts panicking again, you can go kill the thing and look brave instead of crazy. At least then, my father won’t be suspicious about the Chamber not opening.”

Harry stared at him, “You want me to open the chamber again and make the snake go after people? That’s the worst idea yet, what if students got hurt?”

“I can think of someone we could test it on,” Draco muttered and Harry pretended not to hear. 

“We’re not letting the thing loose in the castle again.”

“Fine, how about we just make it seem like it’s loose again?”

That… actually wasn’t the worst idea. “How do you suggest we do that?” 

“Well, it started with a message, right? We can write it ourselves, you can buy pigs blood for cheep for potion making.”

“Pigs blood?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Yes, Harry, keep up. Then, you can start doing your I’m-hearing-voices-and-may-be-finally-going-crazy routine–”

“I was hearing the snake, you know this.”

“--and then make the thing petrify a ghost or two. I vote Peeves. Then, go and kill it like you did the first time. No guarantee you won’t have help from the Headmaster, but you probably won’t be considered off your rocker. No guarantees, of course.”

“Gee, thanks,” Harry said dryly, “So your plan is that we fake it all and sic the snake on the ghosts?”

“You have a better plan?” 

Harry didn’t, and so they set about planning their fake Basilisk attacks.

Chapter Text

In the weeks leading up to Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday party, Harry found himself talking over the plan more and more with Draco. They’d be setting up the message on the wall to reveal itself on a timer so that they could keep the timing and still be at the deathday party. 

Draco had wanted to change the message, having a bit too much fun with it, if Harry was being honest. They went through some iterations before Draco had finally agreed to keep it the same. The pig’s blood was slightly harder. Draco had to have it sent to the shrieking shack and then they’d had to sneak over in the middle of the night under Harry’s cloak to retrieve it. Having one of their owls deliver that much pig’s blood in the middle of breakfast would have likely raised some concerns. 

Draco handled the spellwork on the morning of the 31st with Harry’s cloak while Harry was at Quidditch. Just the spellwork alone had taken a week in the library to learn the proper spells. At this point, they’d had no time to even think about the time turner.

As for the petrifying, Harry had argued with Draco over multiple meetings that he would not, in fact, be petrifying anyone this year if he could help it. Draco’d argued that he was killing the fun of it. Harry half wanted to petrify Draco.

Finally, though, on the day of Nick’s Deathday party, Harry went to Quidditch in the morning safe in the knowledge that Draco would be setting up the first part of their plan. After Quidditch, Harry would be meeting Draco for lunch in the great hall, and he’d agreed to join them at Gryffindor again.

Harry was happy Draco was getting along with his friends again, but he couldn’t help missing when Draco was at their table nearly every day. 

Quidditch practice is long and grueling, as usual as Wood worked them through his new plays to use against Slytherin in their upcoming match. The weather was starting to cool down, and it had been rainy for days, so by the time Harry finally landed he was ice cold and sopping wet. He trudged off toward the changing rooms to put away his broom and change out of his practice clothing. His shirt stuck to him as he peeled it away from his skin and he was feeling pretty miserably cold even with the help of a warming charm by the time he left the changing room. 

All he wanted was to head up to the castle for lunch, but the second he stepped out the door, Colin was waiting for him with his camera. Just like the first time, the kid had been following him to weekend practices more often than not – rain or no. He wasn’t as soaked as Harry thanks to the umbrella he was holding but Harry could still see him shivering. 

“It’s too cold out here, Colin, you should really just go inside. You don’t need to watch all our practices,” Harry said tiredly as he started trudging through the mud and up to the castle, Colin following at his heels like an excited puppy. 

“It’s so fun to watch everyone play, though!” Colin said loudly, still shivering. Harry glanced at him and cast a quick warming charm on the boy, it was the least he could do, and he figured he might freeze to death at this rate. “Cool, thanks!” he said brightly when the warmth settled over him.

Harry didn’t say anything, but it seemed that his small favor just further encouraged Colin and he followed Harry all the way to the great hall and then proceeded to drop into the seat to Harry’s right. Draco wasn’t there yet, but Ron and Hermione were. Ron tried to hide a snicker at the look on Harry’s face: bewilderment and exhaustion. Hermione rose an eyebrow at Harry in question, all Harry could do was shrug.

One good thing was that Colin seemed to be perfectly content to have a one-sided conversation with himself as Harry began to eat. He was going on about Quidditch plays and flying brooms, when Harry caught sight of Draco entering the hall. Harry waved as Draco made his way over, Draco waved back with a smile until his eyes landed on Colin. 

If looks could kill…

The glare Draco sent Colin was so intense, even Harry found himself a little taken aback. “You’re in my seat,” Draco said when he finally got near enough.

Colin stopped talking, finally seeming to notice Draco. “We don’t have spots, and you’re not in Gryffindor,” he said, clearly confused, but that just seemed to anger Draco more. 

“ I have a spot, and you’re sitting in it,” Draco gritted out. “So move,” he said when Colin continued to sit there.

“Draco–” Harry started but didn’t get the chance to finish because Draco was pushing Harry over slightly on the bench and jamming himself in the space between Colin and Harry on the bench. The people sat around them complained as they had to move over to accommodate him. 

Hermione was trying and failing to hide a laugh behind her cup and Ron was staring wide-eyed at Draco. 

“You’re being rude,” Harry said, though he was fighting not to start laughing himself.

“No, I’m taking a seat. In my spot,” Draco replied, taking up Harry’s utensils and putting more food onto Harry’s plate. 

“Hey–!” Colin finally said, coming out of his shock over Draco. While Harry couldn’t see the look Draco gave Colin, it must have been intense because whatever Colin was about to say died in his throat. 

“Sorry, Colin,” Hermione said, the first to compose herself, “Draco always sits there. He’s a little protective over his spot.”

“Yeah, and I need to talk to Harry, so scamper off to your first-year friends,” Draco said.

With a frown, Colin got up, clearly seeing a losing battle. No matter how insistent he was, he was no match for Draco when he wanted something. 

“Sorry, Colin, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Harry said and Colin immediately brightened.

“Okay!” He went off to sit further down the table, then, back to his cheery self. When Harry turned back, Draco’s scowl was now turned on him.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Draco said, turning away and glaring at the food he was now eating from Harry’s plate.

“Can I have my plate back?”

“No.”

Harry sighed, turning to look at Ron and Hermione. They were no help, though. Hermione was pretending not to be watching them and Ron was too busy laughing at Harry’s face to even talk. Whatever Harry did, though, Draco must not have been too mad at because even though Colin had moved, Draco kept himself pressed to Harry’s side for the rest of dinner. 

After a while of silence from Draco, Harry finally decided to break it with a whispered, “Did you get everything done?”

“Yeah,” Draco said, putting down the fork. Harry seized his opportunity and grabbed it back, though Draco seemed to be done with it because he didn’t even protest.

“Went well?”

Before Draco could answer, Ron piped up, “Did what go well?”

“Had some homework to finish,” Draco replied, “And yes, it went well.” 

“You’re joining us tonight, right?” Hermione asked Draco.

“At the Deathday party?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, I’ll be there. Harry invited me,” Draco said, and there was something about the phrasing – like Draco would go to anything Harry invited him to – that made him smile. 

“I was thinking of inviting Luna, too,” Harry said, “I don’t think she really has any friends, and I think she’d probably enjoy it.”

“Luna?” Ron asked.

“Luna Lovegood,” Harry responded, “She’s a first-year Ravenclaw. Met on the train.”

The name seemed to finally get Draco to calm down with him because he gave him a smile. “She would enjoy it.”

Harry was right in his assumptions. Luna did enjoy the party, in fact, she seemed to be the only one who did. Nearly Headless Nick seemed to like her, too. When she told Sir Patrick that she found Nick frightening, she was much more convincing about it than he had been.

“I’ve never seen a ghost before coming to Hogwarts,” Luna said serenely, she was watching the spectral crowd move through the space, passing through walls and the table laden with rotting food. “I never knew they could taste food that way. I wonder if father would like to write an article on it.”

“Does he write for the Daily Profit?” Hermione asked.

“No, the Quibbler.”

“The Quibbler?” Ron said the name of the magazine like he thought she should be embarrassed to mention her association with it. Luna didn’t seem to notice, though, just hummed in agreement and continued to stare wide-eyed around the room.

“I’m getting cold,” Draco finally announced and Harry noticed he was shivering slightly. 

“Here,” Harry said, taking off his own robes to drop over Draco’s shoulders. 

“You’re going to be cold, then!” Draco protested, even though his nose was starting to go pink from the cold, and tried to take it off to give back.

“I’ll be fine,” Harry argued, grabbing Draco’s hands to keep him from removing the robes. Draco tried to wrestle his hands out of Harry’s grip for a moment before Ron cut in.

“How about we just go up to the regular feast for a bit and warm up, plus we need to eat.”

Hermione readily agreed, clearly eager to get back to the warmth and Luna seemed content to follow them. Harry and Draco moved to follow, still arguing over the robes. In fact, Harry was so invested in trying to keep Draco from shrugging them off his shoulders – because now it had turned into a game he couldn’t let Draco win at – that he almost forgot his role in their plan. 

They were almost to the Great Hall when Draco stopped tugging and instead elbowed him hard in the ribs. It took Harry a moment to realize what Draco was trying to tell him, but then he was stopping in his tracks and letting go of Draco. He paused long enough for the rest of the group to notice him pause before saying, “Do you hear that?”

He only prayed he was believable. 

“Hear what?” Ron asked and Harry shushed him, starting to move along the wall, trying his best to recreate how it had felt the first time. 

“What’s going on–” Hermione started, hurrying to follow him and he started walking faster down the hall. He just needed to lead them towards the message. They passed through the entrance hall, the other four following behind him.

“Harry, what’re you–” Ron tried, but Harry cut him off, too.

“Listen!” he hissed, trying to put urgency into his tone. They all paused on the stairwell, watching him. 

“I don’t–”

“This way,” Harry said, continuing up the stairs and feeling mildly embarrassed by himself. Had he looked as crazy as he currently felt, the first time around? He shook the thoughts from his head and hurried onwards, the sooner they got to the message, the better. 

He probably could have said more, maybe made it more believable, but instead, he just hurried upstairs as fast as he could. His face was burning in embarrassment and he knew Draco would probably laugh at him later. He took another flight of stairs, and sighed a little in relief when he saw the message on the wall, a ways down the hallway. 

“ Look !” he shouted, hurrying up to the wall. He could hear his friend’s heavy breathing from chasing him up the stairs as they stopped next to him. They all stared up at the words, Hermione’s breath catching in her throat. He had to admit, it was creepy to look at, even knowing that it wasn’t real. Draco had done a good job, letting the blood drip down the walls from large letters. 

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. 

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

They stared in horror for a moment, before Ron broke the silence. His voice quivering, he said, “We should get out of here.”

“Yeah, we don’t want to be found here,” Hermione said, eyes wide and terrified. She grabbed onto Harry’s arm to pull him away just as the surrounding corridors filled with noise. 

The five of them turned toward the arriving students, and Harry had just a moment to feel bad for inviting Luna along before the hall they were in filled with hundreds of students from the great hall. The chatter stopped immediately, everyone trying to push forward to see what was going on. 

A moment later and Argus Filch was pushing to the front as well. His eyes landed on the five of them first and then on the wall covered in bloody letters. Though this time his cat had been spared, he sill found a reason to yell at them. He’d been fighting a losing battle all month against mud in the corridors (the Quidditch teams and Harry a regular offender) and this seemed to be the final straw.

“You like messes, do you?!” he shouted as he came closer, glaring at them all, “Enjoying making them all over the castle for me to clean?! Well, I’ll show you what–!”

“Argus!” came the voice of Dumbledore. He had finally seemed to make it through the crowd, followed by several other teachers. He stepped up to the words on the wall, reading them. “Come with me, Argus,” he said after a moment of silence, “You five as well.”

“My office is the closest, Headmaster,” Lockhart said, stepping up eagerly. Harry had to fight not to roll his eyes. “It’s just upstairs, feel free to–”

“Thank you, Gilderoy,” Dumbledore said, then moved to lead the five students and Filch through the crowd. Lockhart, McGonagall, and Snape followed behind. 

When they reached his office, Lockhart immediately started his boasting, claiming to be able to find out who had written on the walls. “...solved that one case in Albania by picking out the murder’s handwriting from a hundred others…” he was saying.

The five of them were seated just outside of the candlelight, waiting for Dumbledore’s verdict. The headmaster seemed to be in thought, ignoring Lockhart’s ramblings until he finally looked up and met Harry’s eyes. There was something there, something in his gaze that he hadn’t seen directed at him before. A searching look, questioning.

Harry had never seen Dumbledore not be ten steps ahead. Never seen him not know something. For the last year, Harry had half expected Dumbledore to find him and tell him he knew about the time turner. The man had never once seemed surprised, and even when he didn’t know the answer, he always seemed to have an idea. 

Now, he looked back at Dumbledore and saw that he didn’t know. It was Harry this time who knew and that was new . He’d never been the one to have knowledge over Dumbledore, and now he did, and now Dumbledore was staring at him like he was trying to figure out what it was.

“Would you like to tell me what you were doing in the hallway while the feast was happening?” he said calmly. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but Ron and Hermione beat him to it, launching into an explanation of Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday party. Harry glanced over to Draco, then, and took in his rigid posture. He glanced down to see Draco’s hands gripping the edge of the seat. 

“But why not join the feast afterward?” Snape’s voice cut in and pulled Harry’s attention away from Draco. “Why go to that corridor?”

Harry was about to tell the same lie he had the first time, when he was interrupted again. However, this time, not by Ron or Hermione. 

“Harry heard something,” Luna said, calmer than ever. 

“Heard something,” Snape said disbelievingly.

“Yes, I think it may have been the nargles, there’s an awful lot here in the castle. They like to steal my socks.” Everyone in the room turned to stare at her, expressions ranging from disbelief to confusion.

Harry figured he may as well go with it. “Yeah, I started hearing something in the walls, so I followed it and found that message.”

Dumbledore turned to fix his eyes on him again, and Harry had to fight not to look away. He knew Dumbledore wasn’t using legilimency – he knew what that felt like a little too well – but he still felt a bit like Dumbledore could read his mind.

Snape and McGonagall started to argue back and forth about punishment, but Dumbledore continued to hold his gaze. Harry did his best to keep it. After a moment Dumbledore held up a hand to silence the two professors. “Innocent until proven guilty, Severus,” Dumbledore said.

“They covered the wall in blood!” Argus shouted, “I want to see some punishment !”

“You may go,” Dumbledore said to the five of them, but when Harry got up to follow, Dumbledore stopped him, “Wait for me a moment, outside, please, Mr. Potter.”

Harry managed a nod before following his friends into the hall. His stomach sank, this hadn’t happened before and he had no idea what Dumbledore wanted. The five of them stopped in the hall just outside the room. 

“Thanks for inviting me to the deathday party. I had fun.” Luna said before anyone else could start talking, “Be careful of the Nargles, Harry. Good night.” With that she set off down the hall toward her dorm. The four of them watched her retreat for a moment before Ron and Hermione whirled on him.

“Even in the wizarding world, hearing things no one else can isn’t normal,” Ron said worriedly. 

“Think Dumbledore will get you in trouble?” Hermione asked. 

Harry honestly had no idea, but he did his best to look calm as he shrugged, “He would’ve given me detention in there if I was in trouble, right? It’s probably fine.”

Hermione and Ron still looked worried, though, and Draco hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten told to follow Dumbledore. No one got the chance to say more, however, because then the professors were leaving the room. 

“Were you not told to get to bed? Or are you looking for a detention?” Snape asked.

“No, Professor,” Hermione said, hurrying to drag Ron off with her. Draco turned and hurried off in the opposite direction.

“Come with me, Harry,” Dumbledore said and started to lead him off. It took Harry a moment, but he realized Drumbeldore was walking him back to Gryffindor Tower. So, maybe he wasn’t getting into trouble after all. “Would you like to share more with me about this voice you heard?” he asked after a moment of silence.

Harry took a moment to consider. Should he lie or should he just say he doesn’t want to talk about it? Could he even lie? “It was a voice, Professor,” he eventually said. Dumbledore stayed quiet, waiting for Harry to finish. “I heard a voice saying it was going to kill.” That wasn’t technically a lie, he had heard a voice, it just happened over seven years ago. 

“Do you know what the Chamber of Secrets is, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, and there was something in his voice Harry couldn’t place. 

“I-I’ve heard stories.”

Dumbledore watched him in silence for a moment, and Harry fought hard not to squirm. “I suggest you keep your curiosity to stories. Sometimes reality is not as pleasant or interesting as a tale.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed, they’d nearly made it to the dorm and Dumbledore let Harry walk in silence until they reached the portrait

“If you ever hear a voice again, I urge you to come to me,” Dumbledore said when they reached the portrait of the fat lady. “Wandering about the castle at night is not always the safest option.”

“I will,” Harry promised, having no intentions to keep it. The headmaster looked at him a moment longer before telling him to have a good night and leaving back down the corridor. Harry hurried into the common room and was immediately met by Ron and Hermione. 

“What’d Dumbledore have to say?” Hermione asked. 

“Yeah, he didn’t give you detention, did he?”

“No, no detention. He just wanted to tell me not to go looking for any Chamber of Secrets,” Harry said, starting over to the fire to sit down on one of the couches.

“So it’s real then?” Ron asked. Normally, he might say he didn’t know, encourage them all to look for it. That would keep the plan going as it should, but then Harry wondered if he could speed up the timeline on this. Could he push this toward the inevitable end quicker? 

“I think so,” he said, “The way Dumbledore tried to encourage me to not go looking for it sure made it seem like it’s real.”

“I’ve heard of it before. Someone told me a story about it once… might’ve been Bill...”

“Do you remember it?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said dejectedly. 

“It’s a chamber said to hold a creature only the heir of Slytherin can control,” Harry found himself saying. They had agreed to change things after all. “The legend is that the creature is supposed to ‘purify’ the school when it’s released.” he glanced at Hermione. “Slytherin’s idea was that Hogwarts should only let in wizards of ‘pureblood,’ so the story goes that his creature would kill anyone that didn’t fit that view.”

“That’s horrible,” Hermione said, she looked angry rather than sad, though, and Harry was grateful.  

“It’s a very simple-minded and cruel worldview,” Harry agreed. 

“How do you even know all that?” Ron asked. 

“Read about it somewhere.”

“I think you and Hermione must have read that whole library by now,” Ron said shaking his head and Hermione gave a small laugh.