Harry Potter and the Secret Summer.

This idea won't leave me alone, and while I have read stories similar, nothing quite what I envisioned. While there are likely similarities in this story to other published works it is wholly unintentional. After all, many a fan-fiction writer has further explored Salazar's chamber. I own nothing but my ideas, all of the HP universe rightly belongs to J. K. It's her toy-box, I am just playing with her toys.

My other stories will continue, I think I have figured out a way to force my head to co-operate :-)

It is the end of Harry's second year at Hogwarts. All the drama is over and everyone is looking forward to going home for the holidays. Everyone except one bespectacled, dark haired hero. A spur of the moment decision leads Harry to finding his own happy-ever after.

Chapter One

Impulse

Gryfindor tower was a hive of activity as teenagers scurried this way and that packing their belongings in their trunks to return home for the summer. The school year was finally over. Happy chatter about the holidays and their plans for the next few teacher free weeks filled the air along with many variations of "Has anyone seen my.. insert random textbook or belonging." called from all corners of the House. Up in the Second Year boy's dorm it was pure chaos as four boys ran hither and yon gathering scattered possessions and tried to cram belongings into overflowing, untidy trunks. The fifth boy, the shortest and skinniest of them, lay on his bed staring at the red and gold hangings above him. His trunk was already packed, he did not have nearly as many personal possessions as the others and what he did have he treasured and kept safely in his trunk. It had taken him less then half an hour to pack his school things, and only that long because he had had to retrieve his transfiguration text from the Common room. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, banish-er of Voldemort (three times now) and Basilisk Slayer was moping. Unlike his schoolmates Harry was not looking forward to the summer months. He did not want to return to the 'tender mercies' of his oh so 'loving' family. His Uncle and Aunt would probably still be angry about that disastrous dinner party, not to mention the damage that undoubtedly had been done when the Weasleys had ripped the bars from his window. They had long memories when it came to things Harry did wrong. Or that they blamed him for, which was pretty much everything.

Harry dreaded returning to Privet Drive, he hated having his things locked away beneath the stairs and poor Hedwig being imprisoned in her cage. He could handle the endless chores, they kept him from getting bored, he was used to the verbal abuse and hunger. At least he wouldn't get a big head, or fat. All the running away from Dudley would at least keep him in shape for Quidditch, but what would that matter if he wasn't allowed to play on his house team anymore because he hadn't completed his Summer assignments? Or what if he forget everything because he couldn't revise? Not to mention how much he would miss his friends. He would not be able to send Hedwig with letters if his Uncle remained true to form. Worse still, he would be with his relatives for his birthday again. Harry sighed. He had practically begged Professor Dumbledore to let him stay, he'd even asked Hagrid if he could stay with him, and Hagrid himself had been all for it until Dumbledore had heard. Harry's hopes had been crushed, things would be the same as the year before. Harry would have to return to his Aunt's home. The unhappy twelve year old blinked his eyes rapidly. He would not cry.

The last day of term came and Harry morosely made his way down the stairs, his trunk thumping behind him. It was a lot easier to move with a feather-lite charm on it. Without the same enthusiastic energy of his class mates Harry was soon at the rear of the group. Ron had been dragged off, along with the twins, by the Pushily Pompously, Perfect Prefect Percy. Ginny had already left with their parents and Percy seamed anxious to rid himself of his guilt by riding herd over his other siblings. Hermione was a little ahead of him, her mind obviously on her parents. Harry knew Hermione was the only child of doting parents and that she missed them both terribly while at school. She had confided in him that, once she started school and the other kids realised she was different, and not just because she was so much smarted then them, no-one had wanted to be her friend or play with her. She had picked on and bullied constantly. So she had taken refuge in books, in learning and in rubbing the bully's noses in how much she knew. Her mother and father had been her only playmates. She had smiled as she told how her daddy would sit on her bedroom floor with her colouring in, reading or playing games and how her mother would play dollies and tea parties with her when she was very small. Harry tried to commiserate, he really did, but as lonely as her childhood had been Hermione at least had had people who loved her. It made Harry feel like a bad person, quashing the jealousy he felt when his friends spoke of their parents or their childhoods. Only Neville had little to say on the matter.

Harry dragged his feet even more, the flow of students moving past him until he was all but alone in the corridor, the last of the Gryfindors disappearing around the corner a moment later. Harry sighed and lifted the end of his trunk a little higher. It was suddenly very quiet in the hallway, the staircase must have moved and taken the last few students down. He would have to wait for it to come back around. Harry stood for a moment, his eyes wandering down the hall. It would be amazing to stay he thought... he could explore the castle without Snape sneering at him and taking points or the Slytherines ambushing him. He'd heard even Filch left the castle for the summer. It would just be him, a handful of teachers that he could avoid and the ghosts...

An idea tickled at his mind and Harry latched onto it. He could stay if he could hide it whispered. But how could he hide at Hogwarts? Dumbledore was the Headmaster, he controlled the school's wards and he would surely find him. The portraits would rat him out, or the ghosts. Harry chewed his lip. His invisibility cloak would only help so much, Dumbledore had already proved he could see through it. The solution came to him as if someone was distantly calling his name. He could hide in the Chamber of Secrets! No one, except for another parselmouth, could get in there and only a very few really knew where the entrance was or how to open it. Even less could! He doubted anyone would realise he wasn't aboard until long after the train departed anyway, the general student confusion would see to that.

Harry had made it all the way to Myrtle's bathroom and had opened the entrance when he heard Mrs Norris's querying meow. She must have heard him. Harry flung his trunk down first then hauled himself into the tunnel and hissed 'Close' as he whizzed down the only marginally cleaner pipe. The ride was far more exciting the second time.

It wasn't nearly as scary beneath the school now that he knew the basilisk was dead. It was still dark, damp and slimy and there were still bones and bits of shed skin lying about but without the death dealing snake hiding in the shadows it was just a rather dark, damp and smelly tunnel. Harry lit his wand and picked his way over the rock fall and on to the inner chamber. The entrance slid open at a hiss and he walked far more confidently into the legendary Chamber of Secrets then he had the last time.

After a few steps Harry realised that his wand was not going to provide much light down here, and figured Slytherine would have had the same problem. Thinking hard Harry hissed "Lights" and ancient heavy blackened braziers flared to life, sitting in iron fittings that were buried in the stone walls. The flickering flames cast eerie light on the twisting snake carvings that adorned the columns and turned the ugly statue of Slytherine into a macabre fun-house mask. Staring around Harry seriously began doubting Slytherine's sanity and his own decision making. The massive corpse of the dead snake no-withstanding the chamber wasn't a welcoming place. It was also cold, but Harry decided he could live with that, hopefully the snake wouldn't start rotting if it was cold enough, at least until the end of summer.

For a few long minutes Harry stood and pondered his situation. On the plus side, the Hogwarts express had left by now and he wasn't on it. This was also a minus. Plus; he wasn't going back to the Dursleys. Minus, he wasn't going back to the Dursleys... yet. If Dumbledore found him he'd be back there faster then he could say "They Hate Me!" Plus he had a great hiding place, no one would be able to get to him here, even if they guessed where he was hiding. Minus, he had a great hiding place, if he got sick or hurt, no one could get to him. Another thought struck Harry, how would he receive mail, or for that matter, get food. He had his broom so he supposed he could always fly up the tunnel, or see if he could find stairs somewhere, but he would have to leave his hideout. Then he could be caught and returned to his family.

Harry had been glad he'd sent Hedwig to stay with Hermione for the holidays. He'd been unable to bear the idea of her being locked up for the summer and as much as it hurt to send her away, it had meant she would be free and she could visit him as much as she liked. Then he'd had his bright idea and totally forgotten about his poor owl! Hedwig would go spare if she could not find him. His friends would probably worry too, if his letters came back unopened. For a moment the guilt nearly forced Harry back up to Myrtle's bathroom to beg forgiveness before his uncle's purple face appeared in his minds eye and his ribs gave an ache from all the times Dudley had punched him there. "No" Harry thought. Out loud he said "I am not going back. Privet Drive is not my home, it's a prison." and he began dragging his trunk towards the great statue.

Many flights above him in the Headmaster's unoccupied office several complicated little instruments shattered or simply stopped working. A magical alarm rang for a few minutes for tinkling into nothingness. Fawkes the phoenix blinked sleepily around the the office before putting his head back beneath his wing and resuming his dreams.