Chapter 24

Unexpected

Making the Polyjuice Potion wasn't as difficult as they'd all thought it'd be. Yes, it was incredibly advanced, but that was mostly due to the ingredients required. Luckily, he and Ron had Hermione, the brightest witch in their year helping them with it. 

The first thing they had to do was get the book with instructions on how to make the Potion. According to Hermione, Snape had stated it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions, a fact that both he, Harry, and Ron had missed. Getting Lockhart to sign the pass they needed to get into the Restricted Section for it was easy enough. 

Most of the ingredients were easily available in the student cupboard in the Potions classroom, and they had a good amount of time before the more difficult ones needed to be added. With the Polyjuice Potion brewing, Harry was free to let himself focus on other matters. Quidditch.

The entire Gryffindor team was a wreck, feverishly preparing for the upcoming match. The main reason for their nervousness was their opponents. They were playing Slytherin on Sunday, and they had a point to prove. Knowing that they had the best broomsticks had clearly got to the entire team's heads, and they took to making snide remarks in the hallways. 

Wood was constantly pulling him aside, informing him that he was counting on him for the weekend's match and that the entire game would come down to him catching the Snitch.

"Way to go, Oliver," Fred drawled. 

"As if he wasn't nervous enough already," George tutted.

Harry agreed with the two. He just had to beat Malfoy, especially with how he'd been acting lately. And maybe, if he won the match, the school would finally be able to focus on something other than Harry being the Heir of Slytherin. A Quidditch victory for Gryffindor against Slytherin would have the school distracted for at least a week or two. 

★

Sunday arrived, and with it the dawn of the match. 

Harry woke up early, though ended up spending a good part of the morning trying to fight off his nerves. It was a lot of pressure after all. Not only did they have to show the Slytherins that good brooms didn't mean they were better than everyone else, but after the way they'd been acting, they needed to be put in their place. There was also the threat of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, and Harry didn't want to find out if he could help it.

He went down to breakfast and found the rest of the Gryffindor team sitting there as well, huddled up. No one spoke much as they ate, all of them mulling over the possible events of the match.

Ron and Hermione came over to wish him luck close to eleven as the school made their way to the Quidditch pitch.

Once in the locker room, they were given an inspiring pep talk from Wood. Harry only registered the last bit. "Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

They made their way out, greeted by the noise of the crowd. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were eager to see Slytherin lose as well, so it was mostly cheering. The Slytherin side of the pitch managed to make their boos heard, however, over the uproar.

"On my whistle," Madame Hooch started. "Three... two... one..."

They shot up into the sky as the whistle blew, Harry getting higher than all of them, looking around for the Snitch.

"All right there, Scarhead?" Malfoy yelled, speeding under him, showing off.

Harry was about to make a comeback when a Bludger pelted toward him, and he dodged last minute.

"Close one!" George shouted, clubbing the Bludger toward a Slytherin player. However, the Bludger changed direction and targeted Harry once more.

Harry dodged again, George soaring in front of him to hit the ball at Malfoy. It changed direction before getting anywhere near the other boy and set off toward Harry.

Harry lost track of time as he attempted to look for the Snitch, both Fred, and George on either side of him, warding off the Bludger. He squinted through the now-falling rain, hoping against hope to see the shimmer that was the little golden ball.

Slytherin was leading when Wood called a time-out after a signal from George, who had been struggling with the Bludger as he did so. Unfortunately, even after some discussion, they couldn't do anything about it.

Harry saw Miles through the downpour, being patted on the back by his teammates. As a Chaser, and one of Slytherin's best for that matter, he was responsible for their lead. Git.

They went back into the game, and Harry resumed the absurd game of tag he was playing with the bludger. Twirling in midair and swerving out of the way of the heavy black ball.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" Malfoy laughed, circling to a stop to watch Harry.

He avoided the Bludger again, and glared at Malfoy, putting every ounce of hatred he could muster into his gaze. His heart nearly stopped as he saw the shimmer by Malfoy's left ear, though the other boy was too busy laughing to notice.

He didn't want to alert the other boy by flying toward him, and hovered, debating what to do.

Suddenly, pain exploded in his arm as the Bludger finally hit its target. Dazed by the pain, one thought on his mind, he shot towards Malfoy, still trying to avoid the bludger.

"What the-!" the other boy shouted, swerving out of Harry's way.

He took his working hand off the broom, and caught the Snitch, then promptly crashed into the mud, rolling off the broom. He scrutinized the Snitch clutched in his hand. "We've won," he sighed, relieved, then fell back on the pitch, unconscious.

He woke up shortly and was greeted by Lockhart's face.

"Oh no, not you," he muttered.

The other man chuckled nervously. "He's just a bit delirious is all."

Harry sat up with difficulty, wincing at the pain in his arm. Ron rushed to help prop him up, as Lockhart withdrew his wand from his robes.

"Professor, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Don't worry Harry, I'll have your arm fixed up in no time. The number of times I've performed this spell-"

"I'd rather just go to the hospital wing."

"Yeah, he ought to Professor," Ron chimed in. "Madam Pomfrey's a little more experienced with this stuff."

"Nonsense!" And with that, he directed his wand at Harry's arm.

★

Harry sat disgruntled in the dark hospital wing hours later.

Lockhart had somehow managed to vanish all the bones in his arm, leaving it a floppy, rubbery mess. harry had been sent off to the hospital wing, where a very disapproving Madam Pomfrey had informed him that he would have to stay the night.

The Skele-Gro, despite having been taken hours ago, still left a terrible taste in his mouth. The Gryffindor team had come to check in on him, congratulating him on his catch, but Madame Pomfrey had shooed them out, insisting that Harry needed his rest if his arm were to heal. 

Now, he'd been woken up by a scuffling sort of noise, and he couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. 

"Psst, Potter!" Came a whisper by the side of the bed. 

Harry nearly gave himself whiplash from turning his head around so fast and saw Miles crouched down by his bed.

His brother's wand was ignited, and Harry took his own from the bedside table, whispering "Lumos."

In the light, he was able to see that Miles had not come alone. Next to him, much to Harry's great surprise, there was one Draco Malfoy. And next to him, was a bedraggled house elf.

"Malfoy!" he snarled. "What're you doing?!"

"Keep your voice down you tosser!" Draco proceeded to stand up, then made himself comfortable as he sat down at the foot of Harry's bed. "I'm here to... well..." he trailed off sheepishly, and Harry saw him glance desperately at the house elf."

Not missing a beat, the creature stood up. "Dobby is here with master to check in on master Harry Potter's strength sir. And so that Dobby may apologize about his bludger."

"Your bludger?" Harry breathed. "It was you?" Before he knew what he was doing, he had both his arms out, as though he was planning to strangle the elf.

Draco got in between the two. "Potter!" he hissed. "Don't you dare try to kill my house elf or so help me-"

"Master." Dobby put a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco gave in, and sat back, still looking disgruntled. Then the elf turned to Harry. "Dobby is very sorry sir, you see, Dobby is trying to protect Harry Potter!" 

"Protect me from what?"

"There is a monster," Dobby replied with a tremor in his voice. "Hogwarts is not safe, Harry Potter must go home!"

Draco facepalmed. "Dobby," he groaned, "I thought we went over this."

Harry turned to the blonde now. "What does he mean?"

"He's under the impression that there's some monster living in the school that seeks to kill you," Draco said nonchalantly with a roll of his eyes. "Utter rubbish," he muttered.

"It is not rubbish! Dobby knows!"

"Welcome to my life," Draco sighed, gesturing at Dobby. "Anyway, you alright Potter?"

"Fine, no thanks to your house elf," Harry replied coldly.

Draco nodded. "I apologize for that as well. Congrats on the win."

Harry reeled. "Are you alright Malfoy?"

Chuckling, Draco nodded. "Never better. Though..." he trailed off. "My arse still hurts like murder after that fall."

Harry couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, to which Draco quickly put a hand over his mouth. "Shh! Pomfrey will hear you," he hissed indignantly. "And it's not funny!"

Harry calmed down only to hear a bit of a commotion outside the doors of the hospital wing. Someone was coming. "Hurry!" he rasped. "Under the bed, quickly!"

Draco didn't miss a beat, grabbing Dobby and rolling under the bed, just as the doors opened. Harry quickly shut his eyes, though kept his ears open. He fought to keep his breathing steady as panicked voices filled the ward.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," came a whispered voice that Harry recognized to be Dumbledore.

Hurried footsteps followed the command and moments later returned though this time not alone. "What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked urgently.

"Another attack." Harry's breath hitched in his throat. Another attack? Who had it been now? Caught up in the questions whirling around his head, he focused back on the conversation.

"-trying to come and visit Potter I suspect."

His stomach lurched. Who was trying to visit him? He opened his eyes ever so slightly and thought he was going to be sick when he saw the rigid form on the bed a few down from him.

Colin Creevey. The first-year boy who tailed Harry around the school, asking for photos, stories, and autographs alike. Now he'd tried to visit him in the hospital wing, and met this fate.

"Petrified?" Madam Pomfrey whispered.

"Yes," replied Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think... If Albushadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate—who knowswhat might have-"

Harry watched as they pried Colin's camera out of his grip, as apparently, he'd been holding it when he'd been petrified. Smoke poured out of it when Dumbledore tried to open it, and Harry focused back on what they were saying.

"What does this mean, Albus?" McGonagall whispered urgently.

"It means... that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

McGonagall stared at him, bewildered. "Who..?"

"The question is not who... but how," Dumbledore responded solemnly. 

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry held himself back from rolling his eyes. Cryptic as ever. Catching a glimpse of McGonagall's face as she left with Dumbledore, he understood that she hadn't understood the headmaster's statement any better than he did.