Lockhart.

To get permission to get the book Moste Potente Potions from the restricted section of the library, we need written permission from a teacher. We've chosen Lockhart. That dunderhead will believe anything.

Defence Against the Dark Arts classes have been the worst. Since the whole pixie incident, Lockhart hasn't brought live creature to the class. Instead, he reads out pages from his books, and takes it in turns to call up Harry or I to re-enact scenes. So far, I've been called up to play a yeti, a werewolf in a telephone booth and a villager who was cured of the Babbling Curse. I was not happy on these occasions.

This lesson, Harry is up the front acting as a werewolf. He's doing horribly. Lockhart keeps telling him to howl, he's failing miserably. I'm here, hiding behind my books, sniggering with Amy. Bonnie's glaring at us.

"-and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks." Lockhart says, puffing.

I stop sniggering. Dad's a werewolf. Lockhart is acting as if werewolves are the worst thing that's happened to the world. Biased git.

The bell goes and Lockhart gets to his feet. I don't know why he was on the ground.

I'm about to pack up when he says, "homework: compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

I groan. I hate poems. I'm not even going to try, there is no way I want a signed copy of Magical Me.

As I pack up, the class begins to leave and Amy and I walk over to Harry, Hermione, Bonnie and Ron.

"Ready?" Harry mutters.

"Wait till everyone's gone." Hermione whispers nervously. I'm about to ask Lockhart for permission to get the Moste Potente Potions book.

"Why do I have to do it?" I whine in a whisper.

"Because Lockhart favours you." Hermione says. "Now go."

I roll my eyes and slowly approach Lockhart's desk, clutching the permission note. Harry, Hermione, Bonnie, Amy and Ron follow behind.

"Er, Lock-Professor Lockhart?" I say in an 'innocent' tone. "I wanted to get this book from the library. Just for background reading." I hold put the piece of parchment. "But the thing is, it's in the restricted section, and I need permission from a teacher-I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in...Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms..."

Last night, Hermione and I rehearsed what I was going to say. Personally, I've never even read Gadding with Ghouls.

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" Lockhart says. "Possibly my very favourite book. You enjoyed it did you, Sarah?"

"Oh yes." I say, acting as if I did like it. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the...tea-strainer."

Please fall for it. Please fall for it.

"We'll I'm sure no one will mind me giving my favourite students ("and the best in the year." He says, aiming at Hermione) some little extra help." Lockhart says warmly, as he pulls out a ginormous peacock feather quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" He says, misreading the look on Ron's face. "I usually save this for book signings."

He scrawls an enormous, loopy signature on the note and hands it back to me. I quickly fold it and put it into my bag.

"So, Sarah, Harry." Lockhart says. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you two are useful players; Harry a Chaser and Sarah a Seeker? I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to play for the National Squad, but I preferred to dedicate my life to the education of the Dark Forces. I did play Chaser for a while as well. If either of you feel the need for some private training, you can always come to me."

"Uh, I think we're fine, thanks." I say, and we hurry out of the classroom.

"I don't believe it." Harry says, as we all examine the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"It's because he's a brainless git." Ron says. "But who cares, we got what we needed."

"He is not a brainless git." Hermione says, and she snatches the note from me and stalks off towards the library.

"Just because he said you're the best in the year..."

"Shh." I say, as we enter the muffled stillness of the library.

Madam Pince, the librarian, is an irritable old lady, who looks like an underfed vulture. She kept getting up me for always falling asleep in the library or staying in late, last year.

"Moste Potente Potions?" She repeats suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione, but she won't let go.

"I was wondering if I could keep it." She says.

I roll my eyes. "Hermione, we can get you another autograph. Lockhart will sign anything."

I wrench the note out of Hermione's hand and give it to Madam Pince. Hermione glares at me.

Madam Pince holds the note up to the light, trying to detect forgery, but it passes the 'test'. She stalks away and comes back with a mouldy looking book. Ew. Hermione takes it and carefully puts it in her bag and we leave,trying to not walk fast or look guilty. Bonnie's kinda failing. She looks too guilty.

Five minutes later, we're sitting in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and Hermione and I a re looking through Moste Potente Potions for the Polyjuice Potion.

"It has to be here." I say as we flick past a page with a potion on how to turn yourself inside-out. That's gross.

"Here it is!" Hermione says excitedly as we find the page with the title Polyjuice Potion. The pictures are horrible. Most of them are of people halfway through transformations.

"This is really complicated, Hermione." I say. "Do you think we can do it?"

"I think so. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass..." She murmurs, running her finger down the ingredients list.

"They're easy enough to get, they're in the students cupboard." I say.

"Yeah. But powdered horn of a Bicorn, shredded skin of a Boomslang-they won't be in the students cupboard, they'll be tricky to get. So will a bit of who we're changing into."

"A bit of who we're changing into?" Ron says. "I drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it."

We've already decided who's changing into who. We figured that we can't all go, there's too many of us. So only Harry, Ron, Hermione and I are going. Harry's changing into Goyle, Ron's changing into Crabbe, I'm going as Pansy, but we don't know who Hermione is going as. We're just going to play it by year. Bonnie and Amy are going to stay and be lookouts if we need.

Hermione continues as though she didn't hear Ron.

"We don't have to worry about that yet, because we add those in last..."

The others look at each other in worry.

"Hermione," Bonnie says. "Do you realise how much we're going to have to steal? Shredded skin of a Boomslang, that's definitely not in the students cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea..."

"If you guys are gong to chicken out, fine." I say, closing the book.

"I don't want to read the rules either, you know." Hermione says. "I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a tricky little potion. But if you guys don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, Sarah and I'll just go and hand the book back to Madam Pince..."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Hermione persuades us to break the rules..." Amy says sarcastically.

"Alright, we'll do it. Just no toenails, alright?" Ron says.

"Yeah. We'll just use his nose hair instead." I joke.

Ron's face is priceless.

"I was joking, Ron." I laugh.

"How long will it take to make, anyway?" Harry says, as Hermione opens the book again. I look on beside her.

"Well, the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon," Hermione says. "And the lacewings have got be stewed for twenty-one days..."

I quickly work out how long it'll take. Thirty days.

"It'll take about a month." I say. "That's if we can get all the ingredients."

"A month?" Harry, Ron, Bonnie and Amy say in sync.

"But, Sarah, Hermione, Malfoy could've attacked over half the Muggle-borns in the school by then." Harry says.

Hermione narrows her eyes at him.

"but it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead!" I say, miming a train.

Hermione, Amy and Bonnie giggle.

"Sarah, try and knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow will you?" Ron says.

I shake my head. Let's hope we win tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up super early the next morning.

The game against Slytherin today.

I have to beat Malfoy. I have to show that not the best flying brooms gold can buy will guarantee you'll win.

After at least an hour of laying in bed, I get up, get dressed and go downstairs to wait for Amy. When Amy comes down, we go down to breakfast.

When we get there, only Wood, Angelina and Katie are there. All uptight, and not talking. Amy and I join them.

I don't eat anything.

How am I meant to when I'm about to play Quidditch against a whole team with the fastest racing brooms, with not much hope to win?

"Sarah, eat something." Amy says, holding out a piece of toast.

"I'm not hungry." I say, as my stomach lets out a growl.

"Sure you aren't, eat."

I reluctantly take the piece of toast, and eat it in small bites.

As eleven o'clock approaches, Harry, Hermione, Bonnie, Amy, Ron and I head down to the pitch for the big game. Harry and I part ways with the others and head to the change rooms.

Once were all changed into out scarlet Quidditch robes, Wood fives us outer usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin have better brooms than us, we can't deny that. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, in all weather types."

"Too true." George whispers to Fred and I. "I haven't been properly dry since August."

I stifle a giggle.

"-and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

"Hear, hear." I say.

"It'll be down to you, Sarah, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than to have a rich father. Show them. Get that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Sarah, because we need to win today, we've got to."

"Get the Snitch or die trying." I repeat. "Sure thing, Wood." I fake salute him.

"So, no pressure, Sarah." Fred says, winking at me.

"Oh piss off, Fred." I say, shoving his arm.

As we walk onto the field, a roar of noise comes from the stands. It's obvious that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff want us to win as much as the Gryffindors do. Well, maybe not as much.

Madam Hooch, gets Flint and Wood to shake hands, both giving each other death stares and gripping each other's hand harder than necessary.

"On my whistle." Madam Hooch says. "Three...two...one..."

All fourteen of us kick off the ground and rise into the air. I rise up higher, squinting around the field trying to find the Snitch.

"Alright there Scarhead?" Malfoy yells, shooting underneath me, trying to show off the speed of his broom. "Oh wait, you're not Scarhead, your ugly scar isn't on your head, is it?"

I don't have time to reply as a heavy black Bludger comes speeding my way. I dodge it, only just missing it.

"Careful Sarah!" George yells, streaking past me, club in hand. He whacks hard at the Bludger and it goes speeding over to Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changes direction and comes speeding after me again.

I once again narrowly miss it, and George manages to hit it hard towards Malfoy. Once again, it swerves like a boomerang and comes shooting at my head.

I put on a burst of speed and zoom around, trying to avoid the Bludger. I can hear it whistling behind me. What in the name of Merlin is wrong with this Bludger? It not meant to target one player. It's been tampered with.

I speed towards the goal posts at the other end of the pitch, Fred comes up beside me and waits for the Bludger. I duck as he takes a swing at the bludger with all his might, knocking it off course.

"That's done it!" He says triumphantly. But he's wrong. As if it's magnetically attracted to me, it comes pelting at me again. I am forced to fly away at full speed.

It's starting to rain. I can feel the heavy raindrops falling on my face. I have no idea what's happening in the game until I hear Lee shout "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero."

Th Slytherin's brooms must be doing their job. Meanwhile, this mad Bludger is doing all it can to get me off my broom.

Fred and George are now following me closely, whacking at the bludger to no effect. With them flailing their arms around, there ps no way I'm going to find the Snitch.

"Someone's-tampered-with-this-Bludger-" Fred grunts, swinging his bag to whack the Bludger again.

"We need time out!" I yell.

I see George signal to Wood, trying to stop the Bludger breaking my nose at the same time.

Wood obviously gets the message and we hear Madam Hooch's whistle blow. Fred, George and I pelt towards the ground to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" Wood says, as our team huddles together. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Sarah, Oliver." George says angrily. "Someone's tampered with it-it hasn't left her alone, and it hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherin's must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there wasn't anything wrong with them then..." Wood says anxiously.

Madam Hooch is walking towards us now. I look over to the stands to see the Slytherin's laughing and pointing at us.

"Listen," I say. "With you two hovering over me all the time, the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick, Sarah." Fred says. "It'll take your head off."

Wood is looking from me to Fred and George.

"Oliver, this is mad." Katie says angrily. "You can't let Sarah deal with that thing on her own. Let's ask for an inquiry-"

"And forfeit the game?" I say. "No, we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a mad Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone."

"This is all your fault," George says angrily. "'Get the Snitch or die trying'-what a stupid thing to tell her!"

Wood looks at me. I look at him pleadingly.

"All right," he says. "Fred, George, you heard Sarah-leave her alone and let her deal with the Bludger in her own."

The rain is falling heavier now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, I kick off the ground and I can hear the whoosh of the rogue Bludger behind me again.

Higher and higher I climb as I loop and swoop, spiral, zig-zag and roll. Slightly dizzy, I still frantically search for the Snitch so I can end the game.

A whistle near my war tells me that the Bludger just missed me again, turning over, I speed in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" Yells Malfoy as I am forced to do a sort of twirl in the air to dodge the Bludger.

I glare at Malfoy. Then I see it: the Snitch.

I hang in the air, careful not to speed at Malfoy in case he sees it.

WHAM!

I stayed still one second too long. The Bludger comes crashing into my elbow, and I can feel it break. Not again.

Dimly dazed, I slide sideways on my rain-drenched broom. The Bludger comes back for a second attempt, this time aiming at my face.

I swerve out of the way, one idea pulsing through my mind: get to Malfoy.

Through a haze of rain and pain, I dive down after the shimmering, sneering face below and can see his eyes widen with fear. He thinks I'm attacking him.

"What the-" he gasps, dodging me and I speed past him.

I take my remaining hand off the broom and make a wild snatch. I feel my fingers close around the cold, wet metal of the golden Snitch. I did it! But now I'm only holding onto the broom with only my legs and there's a yell from the crowd as I head straight to the ground, trying not to faint.

With a splattering thud, I hit the mud and I roll off my broom. My arm searing and hanging at a strange angle.

"Aha," I say vaguely. "We've won."

And then I faint.

I come round, rain falling on my face, still lying on the pitch, with someone leaning over me. I see a glitter of teeth.

"Oh no, not you." I moan.

"Doesn't know what she's saying." Lockhart says loudly. "Not to worry, Sarah. I am about to fix your arm."

"No!" I yell, sitting up, the pain searing through my arm. "I'd rather Madam Pomfrey."

I can hear a familiar clicking noise.

"I don't want a phot, Colin." I say loudly. The clicking stops.

"Lie back, Sarah." Lockhart says. "It's a simple charm, I've used it countless times."

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing." I say. "I want a professional to do it."

"She really should, Professor." Wood says. "But great capture, Sarah. Great catch."

I try to get up, but Lockhart pushes me down.

"Stand back." He instructs the crowd of Gryffindor's around me.

He rolls up his sleeves and pulls out his wand.

"I said, don't!" I yell.

But Lockhart twirls his wand and a second later it's pointed at my arm.

A strange, unpleasant sensation starts from my shoulder, right to my fingertips. Okay, this is not feeling right. It doesn't feel like it did when Madam Pomfrey mended my arm last year. What did Lockhart do?

I don't want to look now, what if it's worse?

I hear loud gasps. Uh-oh, something bad happened. I open my eyes and look at my arm. I scream. What did he do?! It looks like a rubber glove.

"Ah, yes." Lockhart says. "That can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. Why don't you just, toddle, up to the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey can-er-fix you up. Mr Potter and Miss Lupin can escort you."

Harry and Bonnie come over and help me up. My arm is strangely lopsided. I look down again. I can hardly look at it.

Lockhart didn't mend my bones, he removed them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should have come straight to me!" Madam Pomfey rages, holding up my limp arm.

"I tried to, but Lockhart wouldn't let me." I try to tell her.

"I can mend bones in a second-but growing them back!"

"You will be able to won't you?" Hermione asks anxiously.

"I will be able to, certainly. But it'll be painful. You'll have to stay the night, Miss Potter." Madam Pomfrey says, throwing me a pair of pyjamas.

Madam Pomfrey gets Bonnie to help get them on. It's hard with my stupid arm. Why couldn't Lockhart have just let me come straight here?

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione?" Ron says. "If Sarah wanted de-boning, she would have asked."

"Anyone can make mistakes." She says. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it Sarah?"

"No." I say, opening the curtain and putting my head through. "But then, there's nothing to feel in my arm, is there?"

I flop onto the bed.

Madam Pomfrey and Amy come around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey is holding a bottle labelled 'Skele-Gro'.

"You're in for a rough night." She says, pouring the Skele-Gro into a small beaker. "Re growing bones is a nasty business."

So is the 'Skele-Gro'. As soon as I pour it into my mouth, my throat starts burning. I splutter as it goes down.

Madam Pomfrey then leaves, tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, leaving Harry, Hermione, Amy, Bonnie and Ron to forcing water down my throat.

"At least we won." Ron says. "That was some catch, though Sarah. You should have seen Malfoy's face...he looked ready to kill."

"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger." Hermione says darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion." I say, sinking into the bed. "Hope it tastes better than this stuff."

"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it, then you've got to be joking." Ron says.

The door to the Hospital Wing opens and the whole Gryffindor team burst in, filthy and soaking wet. It must be still raining.

"Unbelievable flying, Sarah." George says.

"We've just seen Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about the Snitch being on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy." Fred says.

They all brought cakes, sweets and bottles of pumpkin juice. They gather around, all ready for a big party, but Madam Pomfrey comes storming in shouting, "this girl needs rest, she's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

And then I'm left alone, with noting but stabbing pains in my arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, I wake up in pitch darkness, with the feeling of splinters in my arm. Then I realise that someone is is sponging my forehead in the dark.

"Get off!" I say. "Dobby!"

The house-elf's goggling, green tennis-ball eyes are peering up at me. A single tear running down his long nose.

"Sarah Potter came back to school." He whispers. "Dobby warned and warned Sarah Potter. If only Dobby got to the barrier quick enough."

"Barrier? What barrier?" I ask.

"The barrier to platform nine and three-quarters, miss." Dobby says. "Dobby was quick enough to stop Harry Potter, but not Sarah Potter."

"You're the one who stopped Harry and Ron getting through!" I whisper-yell. "They almost got expelled."

"At least Harry Potter would have been safe. So Dobby thought maybe his Bludger would be enough to send Sarah Potter home, where she would be safe."

"Your Bludger?" I say loudly. "You mean that you sent that Bludger chasing after me? I could've been killed!"

"Not kill you, miss, never kill you." Dobby says, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Sarah Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than to remain here, miss! Dobby only wanted to Sarah Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh is that all?" I say angrily. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you want to send me home?"

"Oh, if only Sarah Potter knew!" Dobby groans, more tears flowing from his eyes onto his ragged pillowcase. "If only she knew what she means to us, the lowly, the enslaved , us dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers what it was like when he-who-must-not-be-named was at the height of his powers, miss. We house-elves were treated like vermin, miss. Of course, Dobby is still treated like vermin." Dobby admits, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, miss, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over he-who-must-not-be-named. Sarah and Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, miss, and Sarah and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those who thought the Dark Lord would never end, miss...and now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Sarah and Harry Potter stay here now history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more-"

Dobby freezes, horror-struck, then grabs my water jug from the bedside table and cracks it over his head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawls back onto my bed, cross eyed, muttering 'bad Dobby, bad Dobby..."

"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" I whisper. "And-it's be opened before? Tell me, Dobby!"

I seize Dobby's bony wrist which is inching towards the water jug again. "But I'm not Muggle-born-how can I be in danger?"

"Ah, miss, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby." Dobby stammers. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Sarah and Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home, Sarah Potter. Go home. Sarah Potter must not meddle in this, miss, 'tis too dangerous-"

"Who is it, Dobby?" I say, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby can't, miss, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" He squeals. "Go home, Sarah Potter, go home!"

"I won't until you give me a proper reason, Dobby. And I won't go anywhere because one of my best friends is Muggle-Born, she'll be first in line if the Chamber really is open-"

"Sarah Potter risks her own life for her friends!" Dobby moans. "So noble! So valiant! But she must save herself, she must, Sarah Potter must not-"

Dobby suddenly freezes, his bat ears quivering. I can hear it. Footsteps coming this way.

"Dobby must go!" Dobby breathes. There is a loud crack and he's gone. I slump back into my pillow.
The footsteps are coming nearer. I look over at the hospital wing door.

Next moment, Dumbledore is backing into the room wearing a long, woolly dressing gown and a night cap.he's carrying one end of what looks like a statue. McGonagall appears a second later carrying it's feet. Together they heave it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey." Dumbledore whispers, and McGonagall hurries past the end of my bed and out of sight. I lie still, pretending to be asleep. Soon, McGonagall passes again with Madam Pomfrey, who is pulling a cardigan over her nightdress. Someone gasps.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispers to Dumbledore, bending over the stature in the bed.

"Another attack." Dumbledore says. "Minerva found him on the stairs."

"There was a bunch of grapes next to him. I think he was sneaking up to visit Potter." McGonagall says.

Slowly and carefully, I raise myself, just enough to see who it is. A ray of moonlight lies over it's staring face.

It's Colin Creevey. His eyes are wide open and his hands are stuck up in front of his face, holding his camera.

"Petrified?" Madam Pomfrey whispers.

"Yes." McGonagall says. "But I shudder to think, if Albus hadn't been on his way for a hot chocolate, who knows what might have..."

The three stare at Colin. Dumbledore then leans down and prises the camera out of Colin's firm grip.

"You don't think he managed to capture a picture of his attacker?" McGonagall whispers.

Dumbledore doesn't answer. He opens up the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" Madam Pomfrey says.

A jet of steam hisses from the camera. From three beds away, I can smell the horrid smell of burnt plastic.

"What does this mean, Albus?" McGonagall says.

"It means, that the Chamber of Secrets has indeed, been opened again." He says.

Madam Pomfey claps a hand to her mouth. I try not to scream. But Professor McGonagall just stares at Dumbledore.

"But Albus...surely...who?"

"The question is not who." Dumbledore says, his eyes on Colin. "The question is how..."

And from what I can see of McGonagall's shadowy face, she doesn't understand this any better than I do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N

Sorry guys. I'm bad.

I haven't updated in ages. I just haven't been in that mood for writing lately. Does anyone else ever get that feeling?

I will start writing another chapter and try and get it up soon. I promise.

Hugs and Butterfly Kisses,

-Elise