A/N So I want to thank everyone for the reviews. I realised I haven't thanked everyone yet, I've just been replying to those who've asked questions or had criticisms. But thank you all.

Here's the first bit of the Chamber of Secrets. This one is a bit more spread out, there will probably at least two more chapters focused on this year, but there will be some hunter stuff as well as Hogwarts stuff so it kind of balances out. I'm going to work on my line breaks actually showing up this time, so let me know if they do not because it's annoying to me when I can't separate the scenes.

As always, unbeta-ed, sorry if I miss any errors.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or Supernatural, or anything belonging to J.K. Rowling or Eric Kripke, I'm just using the characters for fun. I receive no money off of this story. Don't sue me.

.


.

Chapter 9: The Chamber of Secrets

Harry stepped into King's Cross Station with a heavy heart. Sure, she'd be going to Hogwarts again, the magic school, full of danger and excitement. But she already missed her family. Because that's what Bobby and the Winchesters were, her family.

And she really didn't want to deal with Albus Dumbledore and Snape for another year again. They were grating on her innocent Harry routine. And they just sucked, period.

Harry figured that the Weasley's were running late, like her. She usually tried to get there early, but she found that she kept forgetting to pack certain things. Like when she was sure she had packed her hairbrush, but found it sitting on the kitchen counter. Or when she saw her cauldron lurking in the corner of the living room when she knew that she had put that in her trunk first.

They rushed over, and Harry met Ron at the back of the group. Redheads started storming the barrier between the platforms, and Harry watched the strange vanishing act as Weasley after Weasley disappeared through the bricks. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny finally went through, and Harry and Ron lined up to run at the wall. She pushed off against the sidewalk, running fast to get through the barrier, It came closer, and closer, and it looked a lot more solid than usual. And then she ran into the wall full force and flipped over her cart and onto the floor, Hedwig's cage rolling on the ground. She groaned as Ron made impact with her, and sat up with smarting appendages.

"The trolley's wheel just turned and flipped me sideways," she ground out, appeasing the people staring at her. She sat up and shoved her things back in her cart as Ron slapped the barrier.

"It's solid. How will we get through?" Ron turned pale as he thought of something worse. "How will Mum and Dad get back?" The clock chimed eleven, the train had left.

"Let's just go wait for them at your car." She had caught a glimpse of the blue for angela as she rushed inside with her luggage.

"The car!" shouted Ron, bringing some more stares. He pulled her outside, and they packed their things in the trunk. Ron took the driver's seat and Harry sat on the left. Ron started it up, and pulled back, driving into an alley a little bit aways.

"Ron, you can't drive to Scotland. You don't even have a learners!"

"It's a flying car, Harry, I don't need a permit." He pulled the car up, and it began to rise. Harry quickly spelled it invisible, thinking of the muggles. Ron seemed to remember a second later, and pushed on a silver button. "Invisibility booster," he explained from Harry's questioning book.

They drove for a couple hours, always keeping the train in sight. It was quite fun at first, ducking through the clouds and laughing at their classmates' reactions. Then the hours wore on, and they had nothing to eat except a few taffies. There was no water, until Harry conveniently found a few bottles hidden under the seat. It was getting dark when Harry suggested they try landing on the roof of the train.

"That's an insane idea! How am I supposed to do that?"

"You have to, we can't very well just burst into the great hall with a car parked on the lawn."

"How is this any better?"

"The car will at least be going back to England, then maybe your parents can summon it. And, they won't know we took it in the first place." That strain of logic didn't hold up very well, though, as she was sure it wasn't an everyday occurrence for one to find their car missing and just shrug it off.

"Fine, hold on to something." He broke off and muttered to himself. "If we die I am going to kill you."

"Get in line," mumbled Harry.

"What?"

"Nothing." Ron turned the invisible car, veering down towards the scarlet steam engine. He got close, then pulled up as the tires burned rubber on the train. He immediately hit the slammed on the accelerator, speeding along to take the force out of their landing. They came to a rolling stop, and he parked the car on top of the train. Harry and Ron carefully climbed out, the train rushing past the countryside, wind threatening to blow them off.

"You know, I've always wanted to have a fight on top of a train," Harry mused.

"WHAT?" Yelled Ron over the wind. He rocked on his toes dangerously for a moment, the wind buffeting him as he tried to gain his balance. Harry grabbed Ron's hand and directed him to a ladder between carriages. They climbed down and Harry unlocked the door, pulling Ron inside. Their trunks and other luggage appeared in the luggage compartment. Mysteriously. Ron didn't even think about it.

Harry turned to beckon Ron forward, swiveling back around and Running straight into Draco Malfoy coming out of the restroom.

"Potter...What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously, eyes just smiled as she replied.

"Oh, you know, flying a car to Hogwarts then landing it on the train and sneaking in to find a compartment so we don't get caught. The usual." Draco balked as Ron let out a snort.

"I don't believe you," He decided.

"Yes you do. But good luck getting anyone else to." She turned away, grabbing Ron's robe and pulling him towards the compartments. "Oh, and thanks for the help in Borgin and Burkes. My plans of turning you are coming along nicely." Harry walked away, leaving Draco sputtering his denials and Ron following, confused.

"Are you still on about making Malfoy good?." Ron ran up to her.

"I'm not trying to make Malfoy good, Ron, that's subjective. I'm trying to make him independent of other's thinking, and more accepting of my own." Ron huffed and followed her as she searched for Hermione. She threw open the room with Hermione sitting in it, her nose buried in a book. She looked up with a frown on her face, which dropped to surprise as she saw them standing there.

"Ron! Harry! Where have you been? I searched the entire train for you!" Ron stared abashedly at her, and Harry just walked in and plopped down across from her, stretching her legs out and leaning back.

"It's alright, Mione, we just had to fly Ron's Dad's car because someone decided to block the barrier before we could get through."

"WHAT?"

"Don't worry about it. So, did you finish Snape's essay? I wrote about how the potions textbook is wrong in telling us to add three drops of Flobberworm Mucus for a cure for boils potion. You have to add more, based on the ratio of mucus to snake fangs, because the mucus is meant to coat the boils as they dissolve from the combination of the snake and horned slug poison. If there isn't enough mucus, the boils will still dissolve, but leave behind patches of inflamed skin that will clear up in a day or two." Hermione stared at Harry, and shook her head, deciding to argue with her thesis rather than pursue the flying car conversation. Ron still stood in the doorway, flabbergasted, but slightly relieved in the change of subject.

They got changed, and soon they were riding the carriages up to the school. Harry stared in fascination at the skeletal horses pulling the carriages.

"What are you staring at?" asked Ron.

"The Thestrals. They look really cool."

"What are Thestrals?" Hermione asked, trying to stare where Harry was staring.

"Skeletal horses. They can only be seen by people who've seen death." Ron and Hermione stopped at the information, watching Harry's back as she exited the cart and made for the school. They broke from their stupor and, after sharing a glance, followed her to the great hall for the sorting ceremony. Harry watched as Ginny got sorted into Gryffindor, along with an excitable boy named Colin, who rushed to sit near Harry. He introduced himself, shaking her hand vigorously. Harry resigned herself to a year of fangirls and fanboys, as some of the other first years and indeed upper years were staring at her. What happened with the sorcerer's stone was a secret, so naturally the whole school knew.

Harry went to bed that night trying to ignore Lavender and Parvati giggling and gossiping. She pulled a pillow over her head and forced dreams to take her.

.


.

Harry came to one solid conclusion the next day. Gilderoy Lockhart was a fake. He didn't

do anything he claimed he did in his books, one look was clear. First, you can't cure a werewolf with a spell. At best, the Homorphus Charm would only temporarily stop the effects of lycanthropy upon a person. Then, there was just the absurdity of it all. Pixies? Really? Harry was completely confused about what Dumbledore's rationale was for hiring this man. Not a lot of people must've applied, but she'd take another Quirrell over him. It was ridiculous.

Then there was his need to have Harry on his side. Like she would boost his fame. It was sickening, and she wanted to knock out his perfect teeth. But she had to restrain herself. That didn't mean that she couldn't mess with him subtly.

Harry was surprised, later, when Draco Malfoy came walking out onto her pitch, surrounded by the Slytherin team. Oliver Wood made a beeline for the ground, jumping from his broom before he even landed, striding right up to Marcus Flint in a rage.

"What are you doing here? I booked the field. I booked it!" Wood stomped.

"Special permission from Professor Snape. I've got a note."

"Special permission? For what?" Wood asked.

"To train our new seeker." Flint had a smug smile on his face.

"You have a new seeker?" asked Wood, curious now. "Who?" The meaty Slytherin stepped apart to reveal a grinning Draco Malfoy. Harry gave him an appraising look, but she was distracted by the approach of Hermione and Ron before she could comment.

"That's not all that's new," mentioned Flint. They all turned their brooms, Nimbus 2001 glinting in silver writing on seven handles.

"Nimbus 2001s! Those must have cost a fortune!" Ron yelled.

"Compliments of Draco's father."

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to get their Daddy's help. They got in on pure talent." Hermione snarked, annoyed over the corruption of the team. Malfoy boughed up, and Harry just knew chaos was imminent.

"No one cares what you think, you filthy little Mudblood!" Everyone reacted. Katie and Alicia screamed how dare you, Angelina was holding back the twins with Oliver's help. Harry was reaching for her brass knuckles. Draco saw the look on Harry's face, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features before he was pulled into the ranks of the Slytherin team.

"Good one, Draco. Show the filth their place!" Ron started forward, attempting to pull his wand out of his robes, but Harry pulled him back harshly, sending him sprawling on the grass. Harry could get revenge on Malfoy later, when he wasn't guarded by six larger Slytherin's in public. But Flint, standing to the side of the group and confident in his safety, was a prime target, especially after his jeers.

She had her brass knuckles slipped on, and she strode forward while Flint laughed, not taking her seriously in the slightest. Then her fist came up and made contact with Flint's jaw, a loud crack sounding throughout the field. He stumbled backwards, holding a hand to his loose jaw. Harry pounced, throwing a right hook. She turned and gave a roundhouse kick and Flint fell back onto his butt, his face bloodied and his arm probably broken. She stalked up to him as the other Slytherin's fell away because of the look on her face and the glow of her eyes. She bent down low, grabbing his robes and pulling him up to her eye level.

"Never," she snarled, "call my friend filthy again. I don't need magic to make an example of you." She threw him back down, looking up to meet Mafloy's eyes between the robes of the other Slytherin players, and walked away to the castle. The Slytherins and Gryffindors stood together watching as she stomped her way up the hill, Ron and Hermione following her. Eventually a couple on the Slytherin team grabbed Flint to haul him to the hospital wing. Draco stared at a fixed point, wondering what would happen to him. The twins were wearing satisfied grins, with respect shining in their eyes. Wood got back on his broom.

.


.

The first two months passed, and the total of lessons Gilderoy Lockhart taught that could actually count as somewhat informative came to the number one. He would always cancel at the last minute, leaving the students busy work like copying notes from one of his chapters, or describing how he managed to have his entire booklist at the top of the bestsellers charts. It may have had something to do with how he would find something...off... about his day. It started subtle enough, like when he took out his curlers and his hair just lied flat on his head. There was one time where no matter how much sugar he added to his tea, it just got more bitter. Then it became more obvious that something was wrong. Like when he brushed his teeth and they turned black for twenty four hours. Or when his hair decided to change to snakes that kept nipping at his face. Or the one time in the great hall at breakfast when he was eating his food, and the fork and knife decided to leap up and start fighting one another while his spoon called encouragement from his cup of tea. The silverware ended up dropping all the food in Lockhart's lap, and he fled the scene with laughter from everyone in the hall following him out. Even Snape was fighting down a satisfied smirk.

Harry spent October training for Quidditch in every weather. Wood was a fanatic, but she had to admit, he got results. The team was like a well oiled machine by mid October, letting Wood drill them with tactics for the rest of the time before the match until they could recite the different moves for all positions in their sleep. He worked the team hard for a reason. They would need to be ready for their first match.

It was because of the all-weather training that Harry was caught trudging mud through the castle as she tried to make it back to the common room. Nearly Headless Nick tried to warn her, but it was too late and Filch caught her. She was dragged to his office and sat in the chair.

"Students," he sneered, "always dirtying the corridors. Frog brains and mud and everything that I have to clean up!" he continued his rambling until a large crash was heard above the office.

"PEEVES! I'll have you now, Peeves!" He raced out of the office with Mrs. Norris following him. Harry looked around, sure this was the perfect moment to investigate his office. She saw a drawer marked confiscated. Looks promising.

She slid it open, sending alarm wards out into the hall to detect anything coming within fifty feet of the office. She sifted through the materials in the drawer, pocketing anything she could use. One of the things she found tucked away in the drawer, was an old potions textbook, scribbled all over and almost falling apart.

She ran back to the seat, shutting the drawer, when she felt the buzzing of her alarms. Harry glanced at the desk and saw the letter, and quickly duplicated it, pulling the copy into her pocket. Filch entered just as she steadied herself in the chair.

"We've got him now, don't we Mrs. Norris. The vanishing cabinet was an extremely valuable object. The headmaster will have no choice but to listen to me now. Filch looked up, remembering Harry was in the room.

"You...can go. Get out!" Harry hurried out of the room, right into Nearly Headless Nick, which was unpleasant.

"Harry! Did it work, did Filch let you go?" Harry did a double take.

"You dropped the cabinet?"

"Right above Filch's office," he grinned proudly, puffing out his spectral chest.

"Thank you! You probably saved me a horrible detention. I wish there was something I could do to thank you."

"Oh, but there is! Harry, do you think you could come to my Five Hundredth Deathday Party? Oh, but you wouldn't want to, you'd probably think it boring-"

"No, I'll go. Sounds cool."

"Thank you! And, do you think, you could mention to Sir Patrick Delaney Podmore just how terrifying you find me? It might help me with the Headless Hunt."

"Sure," she replied.

"Excellent. It's the thirty first, in one of the lower dungeons. Candles will light the way." Nick floated away, jabbering excitedly to himself. Harry wasn't she she knew what she got herself into.

The thirty first came, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione went down to the dungeons to Nick's party. Harry told them to wear extra layers, remembering how cold Snape's dungeon is, and it's one of the upper ones.

"I don't see why we have to miss the Halloween Feast." Ron groaned. "Did you see the decorations? The bats!"

"Ron, imagine being able to say that you've been to a Deathday party. I bet not many living could claim that." Hermione had a bounce in her step, ready to add to her wealth of knowledge.

"Exactly. Plus, Ron, we already get to see a bat every day." Harry pulled herself up in an impression of Snape, robes billowing feebly behind her. "Damn. How does he do it?"

They entered a room filled with specters, and Harry was itching for the mini pistol tucked into her sock. It held iron bullets packed with salt. She compromised by keeping her hand in her pocket, on her salt gun, and walked around to chat with the ghosts. Nick found them and thanked them for coming. They weren't sure whether to look happy or sad for him.

"There's no food!" complained Ron. Which wasn't true. There was food, but it was inedible. Harry reached into her other pocket and pulled out an entire pie, wrapped in plastic, and handed it off to Ron absentmindedly.

"Where the bloody hell did you get this?" he asked, astonished.

"Kitchens." Harry walked away to where Peeves was picking on Moaning Myrtle.

"-Get invited? Moaning Myrtle at a party? I didn't know you had friends." Harry pulled out her salt gun and cranked it, then shot Peeves. He disappeared mid-sentence, and Myrtle turned to Harry, surprised.

"Don't mind him, Myrtle. He's just mad that he wasn't invited. Party crashing is so out, don't you think?" Myrtle gave a small laugh.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Harry."

"Oh. Why'd you stop Peeves? No one ever helps me. Or are you making fun of me? Of course you are, you're planning something."

"No, Myrtle I'm just-"

"No one ever helps poor, moaning, moping Myrtle." she choked back a sob. Peeves chose then to reappear.

"You forgot pimply," he hissed in her ear. Myrtle burst into sobs, flying out of the dungeon while Peeves followed her, pelting her with moldy peanuts and yelling 'Pimply!'.

"Well, I tried." Harry went back to the party, and Nick was just trying to start his speech. Then the Horsemen arrived.

"Excuse me, everyone, I-" No one was paying attention, they were all focusing on Sir Patrick Delaney Podmore juggling with his and two others' heads. Harry got a little annoyed at his pompous manner. She walked up to where Nick was, where the musical saws were playing.

"Excuse me," she yelled. No one looked up. She tried again. No answer. Now properly annoyed, Harry held a finger to her throat.

"Oi! Mister 'look at me I'm juggling heads'! Put the heads down and pay some fucking attention to Nick. He invited you to his five hundredth deathday party, and you're trying to be the center of attention, by juggling dead body parts? It's pathetic, and I think you should put whoever's head you've stolen back, because yours is obviously shoved so far up your arse that you can see out of your neck. Now, pay some attention to my friend Nick, or I will shoot you with my salt gun. Repeatedly." Everyone looked at her, and she glared back, particularly at Patrick Delaney Podmore, who looked unconcerned.

"And who are you to even make such claims? You're a child, and I am a several hundred year old ghost. I'll do what my title warrants." He turned back to the heads he was holding, ready to start another game. Harry raised a single eyebrow, and pulled out the pistol for better aim, and pointed it at Patrick Delaney Podmore's body. She pulled the trigger, and the onlookers screamed as he burst apart, the bullet ripping through him and hitting the stone wall.

"Does anyone else need a demonstration of what this child can do? No? Then shut up and listen to his speech." She turned to Nick, who's head had fallen out of his ruff in surprise. "Sorry Nick. I didn't mean to steal the spotlight, this is your night. Also, do you know where Patrick Delaney Podmore is buried?"

"Bully's Acre, Ireland," he whispered weakly.

"Cool. Good luck." she jumped off the stage and joined her friends, the ghost crowd parting quickly for her.

"Harry, you're scary, you know that?"

"Thanks Ron. You guys can go on ahead, if you want, I'm going to watch the speech and make sure Patrick doesn't come back."

"We'll be fine, Harry." They listened to Nick's speech, only stopping twice when Harry shot Patrick after he reappeared. The three of them left soon after, saying goodbye to Nick, who looked at Harry speculatively. Ron and Hermione didn't comment, beyond asking where she'd gotten the gun. She loved her friends sometimes.

They rushed back upstairs, only to run the other way when Harry started hearing a voice. A voice that wanted to kill.

'Rip, tear, kill. There's blood. I SMELL BLOOD!'

Hunter instincts kicking in, Harry grabbed her pistol, palming it, and ran up the stairs, following the disembodied voice. She skidded to a halt, almost slipping in the water flooded on the floor in front of Myrtle's bathroom. Mrs. Norris was hanging from a torch. And there was blood on the wall.

The Chamber of Secrets had been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware.

Harry walked forward, reaching to touch the blood. She pulled out a q-tip and glass potions phial, rolling some blood onto the cotton and corking it inside the glass. She put it back in her pocket, and looked back to where Hermione and Ron were looking at the writing in horror.

"Harry, what's going on?"

"I don't know, but I don't think we want to be found here." They started to back away, but rumbling footsteps were heard, blocking them in. They tried the next hall, only to hear the same thing.

"Enemies of the Heir Beware. You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Harry swiveled around to see Marcus flint, his arm in a sling, glaring at the group. Harry clenched her fist. Oh no he didn't.

"My cat! She's killed my cat!" Filch came pushing through the crowd, staring at Mrs. Norris with tears quivering on the end of his nose. He snotted some as he cried.

"Students, back to your dormitories! Except you three." Harry almost cursed when she saw Dumbledore striding up in magnificent magenta robes, and detached Mrs. Norris from the wall torch. They entered Lockhart's classroom with a crowd of teachers.

"Calm yourself, Mr. Filch, she is only petrified." Harry was ready to slap Lockhart if he didn't stop babbling about the different curses and enchantment he could have stopped if he'd been there.

"It's her fault! I was going to give her detention earlier this week and she's taking it out on Mrs Norris!"

"I am not! We just found her," protested Harry.

"If I may, Headmaster, it may just be that Potter and her friends were in the wrong place at the wrong time." Harry gaped at Snape. Then a malicious smile curled his lips. "Of course, it is rather suspicious that they were there. I did not see them at the Halloween feast."

"We were at Sir Nicholas' deathday party," Hermione explained.

"Did you not go hungry? I'm under the impression that the food provided for ghosts is not sufficient for the living."

"I had food in my pocket."

"In your pocket?" Snape asked, disbelievingly.

"Yep," she replied, popping the 'p'. Harry reached deep into her pocket, pulling out a plate, piled with drumsticks, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. She took a fork and stabbed some of the stuffing, depositing it in her mouth. Ron's eyes lit up and he took the extra fork and began eating at the mashed potatoes. Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Innocent until proven guilty," Dumbledore reminded them, drawing the teacher's attention away from the students eating.

.


.

Hermione stomped over to the Gryffindor table, sitting down in a huff. She angrily piled food onto her plate, stabbing at it with a fork and mumbling under her breath. Ron leaned into Harry and whispered. "Is she alright?"

Harry looked at Hermione. "Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine. Except all the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been checked out of the library."

"Don't you have your own copy?"

"Yes, but I left it at home! I was trying to make room for my light reading," Ron snorted, "and I decided to leave it because I have it mostly memorised!" She finished, glaring at Ron.

"Wait, why is everyone checking out Hogwarts, a History? Are they trying to punish themselves?" Ron asked, confused.

"No, Ronald, they're trying to read about the Chamber of Secrets." Hermione huffed again, going back to torturing her food. Harry looked at Ron, both of them shrugging, before going back to lunch.

Later that day, Harry was making use of Binns class as a study hall (Fight Club was next week), when she noticed something incredible. Hermione was sitting in her seat, staring intensely towards the front, with her hand up. Most of the class was watching her by now, it being more interesting than napping or flicking bits of parchment at each other. Binns finally seemed to take notice, his expression morphing into something other than blankness for the first time in what Harry suspected was decades.

"Yes, Miss-"

"Granger, Sir, and I was wondering if you could tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?" Those who weren't already paying attention to the exchange were now. Binns, who must have been shocked by the attentiveness of his class, went on to argue with Hermione about the relevancy of myths versus facts. After Hermione managed to win the argument, he explained how the Chamber of Secrets was created by Slytherin before the founders parted ways, locked and guarded by a creature.

"What kind of creature?" Seamus asked.

"A monster, one that only Slytherin or his heirs can control."

"Well what kind of monster is that?"

"There is no monster, it is a silly tale meant to frighten students." Binns went back to his teaching while Harry had to wonder how he could be so obtuse. It certainly was frightening students, with the monster apparently back in business after Halloween. Harry began to think it might be time for that exorcism after all. She just had to decide whether or not her own satisfaction with getting rid of Binns overwhelmed her desire to have a free period.

Later, when Hermione came to her with a book called Most Potente Potions after conning Lockheart, Harry's heart almost burst with pride. "Aw, my little arsonist is branching out! I'm so proud!" Now they just needed a place to brew the Polyjuice.

.


.

A month later, and Harry was still being frog marched down the halls by the Weasley twins, paraded as the heir of Slytherin. They made jokes, but she wondered how they would react if they found out she was the actual magical heir. That was another thing that bugged her. Someone was usurping her title. But, she couldn't deal with that right now, so she decided to blow off some steam and fix another problem she'd been working on.

After the Death Day party, Harry snuck out of Hogwarts one Saturday, using a combination stealth method of her perception filter and invisibility cloak. She apparated to an old cemetery in Ireland, and busied herself with digging up the grave of one Sir Properly-Decapitated Podmore. Said spirit showed up right before she burned him,

The ghost appeared, lazily looking over his shoulder. "-Probably just another groundhog." He turned around to stare at his grave, and he startled backwards, his head falling off his shoulders with an echoing thud, which was strange given its incorporealness.

"What are you doing!" Patrick tried to get closer to her, but there was a ring of salt around the grave.

"Sorry, Pat, you really shouldn't've been such a dick to my friend. Well, maybe not a friend, but he got me out of a bind, so. Good luck wherever you're going." Harry waved goodbye as she threw a fireball into the grave, igniting the salt covered corpse. Podmore burned away as his ghost screamed, and she replaced the dirt before apparating back to Hogsmeade, creeping back in via the Forbidden Forest.

.


.

Soon, Harry was walking out onto the Quidditch pitch. The first game of the season, and it was Gryffindor against Slytherin. She gave Draco a competitive smirk, and they mounted their brooms.

Madam Hooch's whistle blew, and they were off. Harry sped up into the air, doing a couple loop de loops for fun. She scanned the pitch, searching for a sign of the Golden Snitch. Malfoy pulled up next to her, a snarl on his face.

"How've you been, Potter?" He spat.

"Good. Heir of Slytherin and all, I've suddenly gained a lot of power. Speaking of, do you think it's smart to mess with me after what you've done?"

"Everything I said was true," he defended.

"I don't see you repeating it."

"She's a filthy little-" Harry held up her hand, silencing Malfoy.

"Draco, it isn't polite to insult your future friends. I thought I was making progress with you, but I guess it'll be a longer road than I thought. Now, do you know anything about who the heir of Slytherin might be?" She added a slight compulsion to her words.

"No. My Father told me that the last time someone opened the Chamber, a girl died. There's a vote going on in my common room, and the favorite candidate right now is Granger."

"Interesting." Harry ended the spell. "Good luck."

"I don't need luck." They seperated as a bludger came flying towards them. Harry ducked and flew in a wide loop to George, who beat it at Flint.

Only, the bludger turned in its path and made to unseat Harry from her broom. Fred came to the rescue this time, sending it to Adrian Pucey. The bludger turned again, and Harry sighed, because of course she was the one the insane bludger focused on. Just another day.

She was forced to do a bizarre roll when the bludger came at her, after employing evasion techniques. Draco laughed at her.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" She was so getting him back for that. She spotted a hint of gold by his ear, and stayed still a second too long.

CRACK! Her wrist burned like it was on fire, and Harry barely managed to keep her grip of her broom.

She drifted towards Malfoy, her broom speeding up as she reached out. He looked at

her warily, gripping his broom tighter. She shot forward with a burst of speed and plucked the snitch from the air. Unfortunately, she was only holding onto her broom with her legs now. She gripped her thighs tight against the broom, and tried to angle her body downwards. The broom took off like a bullet towards the ground, and she leaned back quickly, only just pulling it level, and tumbled off the broom into the mud, golden wings still flapping in her grasp.

"Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!"

Harry smiled at the air, then squinted her eyes because it couldn't be...Nope it could! She rolled out of the way as the bludger came down to strike into the Earth. Wood dove on top of it, wrestling it back into the crate Madam Hooch provided. Harry relaxed back into the mud, clutching gently at her broken arm. It wasn't the worst pain she had felt, she'd been stabbed, damn it, but it still smarted. She was sitting up when Ron and Hermione's anxious faces clouded her vision.

"Harry!"

"Are you alright? That was a sick move, by the-"

"Absolutely ridiculous, could have been killed-"

"Guys! Stop, you're giving me a headache. Can you just help me to the hospital wing?"

"No need for that, Harry." She looked up and grimaced. Lockhart stood before her, his dazzling smile flashing as he bent down to look at her arm. "Simple fix, really, done it a hundred times."

"Professor, I think she should really-"

"Nonsense." He aimed his wand at her and before she could expel him backwards- "Brackium Emendo!" He swished his wand, and a jet of blue light shot out of the end and hit Harry's arm. It immediately fell sagged loose, and she pulled the arm up with her other hand, wriggling the rubber like lump that had been her arm.

"Oh, well, that can happen sometimes," he justified, trying to brush it off. Harry gave him a look that promised revenge, and got Hermione and Ron to help her off the field, her useless arm flapping at her side.

Later that night, Dobby appeared by her bedside, and she reached out of habit and caught him by the neck with her good arm. She let go, apologising.

"Harriet Potter returned to Hogwarts," he muttered sadly, giving her a disappointed look that affronted her.

"Of course I did! I need to be here. What I don't need is Dumbledore heading to Privet Drive to see why I'm not at the school, and him realising I haven't lived there in years. He'd almost certainly send me back, probably with a mind altering charm too. Bastard."

"Albus Dumbledore is a great wizard!"

"Albus Dumbledore likes to use other people as collateral, just ask the goblins. He didn't even inform them that Voldemort broke into their vaults."

"Harriet Potter must leave Hogwarts at once! Dobby thought that when she missed the train, it might have been enough-"

"You made me miss the train?" she asked, astonished.

"Yes, and when that did not work, maybe Dobby's bludger would have stopped her, but-"

"Your bludger! You tried to kill me?"

"Not kill, Miss, never kill. Dobby only meant to maim, or seriously injure." Harry wished she had kept her hold on his neck. "Bad things are happening at Hogwarts School now that history is to repeat itself."

"So it is the Chamber, the one opened fifty years ago?" Harry asked. Dobby froze and grabbed the Skelegro bottle from beside her bed, and started smacking himself with it, emitting harsh yelps and shrieks while screaming 'Bad Dobby!' Harry struggled to wrestle the bottle out of his hands with only one arm, hushing him before Madam Pomfrey could come running.

"Are you a freaking masochist?! Stop it already!" Harry grabbed Dobby by the scruff of his pillowcase, ready to question him about the Chamber, when footsteps were heard hustling towards the hospital wing. Dobby disappeared with a loud snap and subsequent crack, and Harry quickly pretended she was asleep regretting her life choices. Harry heard bits and pieces of the conversation, turning slightly to see a petrified Colin Creevey.

"What does this mean, Albus?"

"It means that the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been reopened."

.


.

SilverDragonflymoon: Thank you, and not to worry because there will a lot more of Loki in this story.

Sakura Lisel: That is an amazing idea and I will probably use it pretty soon. I might even use it again when I continue the story into the show, maybe when Dorothy comes around but that will take awhile. Make sure to yell at me in the comments if I don't give you credit.

legendaryNOT: Probably. If I remember.

MagicalCatgirl68: Thanks, I'll check it out.

Non-eye-mouse: I think it's possible that an older Muggleborn might recognize it, which is why Harry cycles through a couple names, but I did want to give her a gimmick with the code names like how the Winchesters use musicians. Harry uses a different kind of reference. She will tell them what Loki prefers, I just need to remember to add that in because I hadn't originally written the Trickster scene.