Chapter 6
The first month went by in a blur as Harry set up shop to brewing the first of two animagus potions in a very remote location. Nobody would want to deal with Moaning Myrtle to get here and despite being a very crazy and creepy girl ghost, she wasn't bad company.
Moaning Myrtle drifted in the air beside him, looking down at the potion that he was brewing. As it turned out, she'd been fascinated by potions when she was in school. Unfortunately for her, that particular fascination caused most of her social problems.
To Harry it sounded like she had suffered from the same lank hair and oily acne prone skin that had caused Snape all of his troubles during Hogwarts from his father and uncles. Because of the similar sob-story, Harry had made sure that while brewing the Potential potion that he covered his hair with an old rag and took multiple showers afterwards to keep clean of oils and smells.
"How much longer until you finish this potion, Harry?" Myrtle queried, peering up at him over her round spectacles while running her fingers through the cauldron and out the other side.
Harry pushed his slipping glasses up his nose and picked up the pamphlet and scanned the remaining instructions. He compared the status of his potion to where it was suppose to be and sighed. Harry mutely shook his head.
"No idea, I have to fix the potion or scrap it and start over."
Moaning Myrtle nodded sympathetically and scratched at her chin. "What's wrong? Did you miss a timing?"
"No," Harry said, frowning thoughtfully down at the bubbling cauldron.
Myrtle looked miserable and started moaning it was all her fault and somehow brought Olive Hornby into her wailing. Harry shushed her gently, if a bit impatiently, and took out his potions notebook from his schoolbag beside him on the floor. He flipped to the section in the back containing his notes on the potion and ran his fingers down the list of observations, pausing to check every now and then against the pamphlet.
"Aha!" Harry said, flashing Myrtle a quick grin. "I know where it went wrong, Myrtle. It wasn't timing, so don't fuss. I made the mistake, but luckily it should only take about five days to fix it, and then another ten days after that to get this potion where it's useable for the ritual."
Myrtle nodded morosely at him before getting up and wandering around the large cavern. Harry glanced up momentarily to watch her scrutinize the large giant snake sculpture in the middle of the water. When she had followed him down here for the first time, she'd been curious to see what he was up to as well as finding out what the young Voldemort could have been doing.
It took her a while to get to use to the chamber. A month ago when he had first started brewing, Myrtle had tried to convince him that neither girls nor professors ever came to her toilet unless she caused problems. She'd even offered to stop flooding the toilets and sinks if Harry would brew the potion up in her lavatory instead of down here, where she knew her killer had lived. Reluctantly she agreed to potion watch down in the Chamber of Secrets when he'd threatened to go elsewhere.
After all, what good was a secret chamber if nobody used it? Besides, down here it was safe, because the password to the entrance was in Parseltongue. As Harry was the only Parselmouth in Europe besides Voldemort, it was a pretty good bet that nobody could accidentally stumbled upon the potion. Harry wasn't going to take chances on being found out or the potion going to ruin by contamination.
The night waned and when Harry had added the boiled salstrak eyes to the mucky potion, he was exhausted and very hungry. He had been in the Chamber of Secrets since before dinner and it was after two in the morning by his watch. He cleaned up, pulled the rag off of his head and stuffed it into his pocket.
"Going already?" Moaning Myrtle sighed sadly, a frown etched firmly on her face.
"Yeah," Harry said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking to the entrance pipe. "It's late and I can't risk Mrs. Norris or Filch catching me."
"When are you coming back?" Myrtle asked, floating dejectedly beside him.
Harry shrugged and spoke the word 'stairs' in Parseltongue. He started climbing the steps after they formed with a hair blowing rush of wind. Harry yawned widely, cracking his jaw as he made his way back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor. There weren't nearly as many steps as there should have been, considering how far down below the school they were suppose to be and Harry was glad magic didn't have to make any sense.
He said goodbye to Myrtle at the top and quickly exited from the girls' lavatory. He had a short walk across the castle and five more flights of stairs to climb. Just thinking about it made his head hurt and his body feel heavier and more tired.
Ten minutes later, Harry was trudging through the portrait hole. He ignored the frigid glare coming from the librarian lady. The effect of her glare was ruined by her yawning and slumping against her frame. As the portrait swung shut, he could hear her mutter her displeasure at being awoken at such a miserable hour of the day.
"Where have you been?"
Startled, Harry stopped on the bottom stair leading to the boys' dormitory. He glanced over his shoulder and spied Hermione over by the couches in front of the fire. Her hair was a wild tangled frizzy mess and her large brown eyes blinking sleepers away. She looked like she'd just had sex.
"What are you doing up?"
Hermione shot him a glare and began to straighten her stacks of scrolls and scraps of parchment. "Don't start with me, Harry. I know you've been running around after hours."
Harry eyed her warily. "It's none of your business, Hermione. I suggest you go get some sleep."
"I am Headgirl," Hermione stated firmly, standing up from the couch with her hands on her hips. "It is my business and if you don't tell me, I'll go get Professor Flitwick."
"Library," Harry lied, keeping his face stoic.
"The library's closed."
Harry shrugged. "So?"
She spluttered, "Are you telling me--"
"Yes," he replied, staring her down.
"Twenty points from Ravenclaw for being in the library after hours! Ten more for wandering the halls after curfew!"
Harry raised an eyebrow and said witheringly, "Is that all?"
"No!" Hermione fairly growled. "You will serve one week of detentions to be carried out under Filch!"
Harry nodded sharply, turned, and sprinted up the stairs. He slammed into the dorm ignoring the disgruntled grunts and murmurings from his housemates. He dropped his bag unceremoniously to the ground by his trunk and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it to the side and sat down on the trunk, yanking his shoes off furiously.
He stripped to his boxers and flung back the curtains around his bed. Terry Boot was muttering darkly at him, but Harry ignored the gangly pimply teen and jerked the curtains closed. He cast a wandless silencing charm cutting off their grumblings and flopped backwards. Serion hissed menacingly and slithered away from the pillows Harry nearly crushed him against. Harry didn't bother to apologize and laid there starring at the bottom of the mattress above him.
The first thought to penetrate his raging mind was that Hermione Granger was just like everybody else. She was a miserable goody-two-shoes with a penchant for being a bitch. Who cared if her hair smelled like lavender or the way she bit her lip while concentrating made him want to bite it too? Who cared indeed. She was just a nosey bushy-haired Headgirl. Easily a dime a dozen.
Harry fell into a fitful night's sleep and dreamed of Howlers yelling loudly at him with brown bushy hair springing out all over the envelop. They were beating him with books and trying to bite his armpits. He woke with a start the next morning and shivered at the newest nightmare featuring Snape wearing the Headgirl badge and trying to snog him.
He peaked out of the curtains and saw that it was later than he usually woke up by the bright grey-pink light filtering into the window. Harry sighed and flopped back against his pillow. He didn't want to get up and ready himself for Ancient Runes. He sighed again and reluctantly sat up, groping for his glasses and got out of bed.
A quick shower and breakfast later, Harry found himself in the library trying to sneak into the Restricted Section. Madam Pince was eyeing him as she never had before, suspiciously, and Harry wondered about her sudden change in attitude towards him. Instead of getting a chance to pick up some promising books he'd located in the card catalog for his search on Horcruxes, Harry was forced to retreat and run to class so he wouldn't be late.
Professor Babbling was conversing with Hermione when he arrived and he steered away from them. He made his way to the far right near the windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch and sat down. Harry pulled out his texts, Advanced Rune Translation and Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms, and began to read.
Hermione sat down next to him just as the last bell rang. He scowled into his book before clearing his face of emotion. She tried to say something to him but he shushed her as Professor Babbling started the slide projector. Harry grabbed a quill and notebook and started scribbling notes on Egyptian runes.
As he wrote, Harry imagined himself in one of the tombs in the Valley of the Kings getting sweaty and dirty and making breakthroughs to rival all those who came before him. It was a nice dream, he thought, finishing a doodle that went alongside his notes of him decked out in field gear. Professor Babbling was switching topics and Harry flipped the page forgetting about being a curse breaker.
Hermione tried to catch his attention but he ignored her and kept his head down taking notes. Just being near her drove him crazy; and not a good crazy either. She was wearing a light flowery perfume that was wrecking havoc with his concentration.
He had nothing to say to her and she certainly had nothing to say to him that he wanted to hear. He had been foolish already around her once. Harry concentrated on blocking her scent out by drawing the runes exactly as they were pictured against the screen.
"Harry--" Hermione tried again.
He didn't respond and she tried one last time. Harry just scribbled the sentence down that Babbling had just said about Sphinxes in relation to warding.
Professor Babbling walked over to their desk and asked, "Would you care to share with the class Miss Granger and Mr. Potter what you two are discussing?"
Hermione went pink and shook her head as the class turned to look at them. Harry shook his head unaffected by the dozen or so pairs of eyes on him. When the ancient runes professor turned around, Hermione sunk low in her chair and brought her scroll to the edge of the table. It looked as if she was trying to hide behind it, but her furious blushing could not go unnoticed.
She was the first to get up and leave as soon as the bell rang for dismissal. Harry stood up slower and leisurely packed his things. Professor Babbling was busy up at the front of the class resetting the slide projector and organizing her note cards for the next class.
He swung his satchel over his shoulder and left the classroom, making his way to Professor Vector's class on the other side of the school. He dodged the trafficking students and slipped into a secret passageway that cut his trip nearly in half. He came out the other side of the Transfigurations classroom and hurried up three flights of stairs.
Harry came through the door just behind his housemates and took a seat in the front of the classroom. It was the only class he sat deliberately in the front because Professor Vector wrote very small on the chalkboard. Harry looked around the room and saw Hermione at the other desk in the front row. He turned away from her and pulled out a sheaf of papers that consisted of all the equations, observations, thought processes, and references for last week's assignment.
He glanced through it quickly though he knew if something was wrong he wouldn't have time to correct before Professor Vector called for it to be handed in to her. Just as he reached the back of the completed assignment Vector called for them to be sent forward for collection. Harry turned around in his seat and waited for Terry Boot to hand him the stack of papers he was collecting.
Boot reached across the aisle to hand the assignments to Hermione smiling broadly at her as she gladly accepted them. Harry shot a glare at Terry and raised his assignment in the air for Professor Vector. She came by and collected the huge pile in front of Hermione and then his single assignment before returning to her desk in the front.
Class settled down as Vector waved her wand at the board and chalky writing appeared. Many were copying the board, filling the room with the scratching of the quill. Harry cast part of a copy charm on his quill and cast the second half of the charm at the blackboard.
Professor Vector placed the homework into her briefcase and walked back to the podium on Hermione's side of the room. "For the rest of the semester we will be on the topic of Time Turners."
Harry saw Hermione's hand go up and waved frantically in the air. Professor Vector stared hard at her and continued, "I will assume that you all know what a Time Turner is and continue from there."
Hermione's hand went down as her cheeks brightened. Harry refused to feel bad for her. He watched her fidget before he switched his attention back to his quill. The poor thing was beginning to quiver in exhaustion from copying all the notes.
"The discovery of time travel coincided with the invention of Floo Powder. Garry and Miranda Dangerfield had been contracted through the Ministry of Magic to come up with a powder base way to travel. They went through two thousand bad concoctions and more so-so ones before stumbling inadvertently onto what they've now named Anachromagus Powder. Bit ironic considering Anachromagus means, 'He without Time.'
"The use of a Time Turner ages you faster depending on how far back you go and how frequent you use it. The Dangerfields discovered this to their misfortune when they started to closely examine their invention after providing Floo Express with their fireplace traveling powder. Garry aging prematurely, passed away from natural causes and left behind his wife and daughter. Miranda Dangerfield handed the project over to the Ministry after that and Time Turners found a place within the Department of Mysteries.
"The farthest anybody has traveled back in time is recorded at twenty-three hours. It is theorized that going back further would allow too much possibility for change in the timeline to be allowed by nature. One must never change anything that happened in the past because of the terrible tragic results that are thought to have happened in the experimental stages. Don't place yourself in a conundrum and relatively few things can go wrong before you catch up with the timeline."
The tip of his quill broke from being pressed against the parchment too hard and Harry plucked another quill from his bag hurriedly. He continued to take notes until it felt like his hand was going to fall off and when it was threatening to follow through with it, Vector stopped lecturing. She waved her wand at the board again and it wiped clear of notes. Several students groaned in dismay as another set wrote itself into place.
You are to come up with an arithmancy equation that when applied can build a Time Turner. The student with the equation that can efficiently travel the furthest back in time will win a top of the line Arithmancer Kit. You have until the end of the semester to complete this project.
Harry shook his hand out after copying down the assignment and packed up his things. Hermione was loitering in the aisle when he turned to leave. He didn't know if she was waiting for him or for Professor Vector. Instead of trying to find out, Harry steered around her and made for the Great Hall.
Today he sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table and ate his mutton quietly while reading all the notes he'd just taken from class. Beside him was a new notebook he was starting to fill with ideas on how to approach the problem posed by Professor Vector. The quantities, qualities, and kinds of glass, metal, and sand mixture would have to be addressed. Then he would have to try several processes and apply them to a small scale working model if he could get the materials.
When he was done eating, Harry drained the last of his pumpkin juice and hurried off to the library on the fourth floor. Madam Pince glowered at him upon his entrance and Harry frowned again. The librarian was really acting odd around him lately.
In the twenty minutes left before Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry searched the card catalogue by subject and found a few books that looked promising. He shot out locator spells and ran through the stacks to collect the shimmering golden books.
He even made sure to grab the ones in the Restricted Section from earlier in spite of the risks of being caught by the more observant than usual librarian. Hopefully there would be something about Horcruxes in the seven he wandlessly and wordlessly shrunk down and stuffed into his pocket.
She checked him out and handed back all of the books to him, minus the tiny books in his pocket and watched him leave. Outside, Harry cast a point me spell for the D.A.D.A. classroom. A month into school and it was the only classroom in the castle still jumping around the different floors and wings. With the spell working on his wand, Harry hurried on his way. Professor Hobday didn't take excuses.
Harry dodged a group of giggling third year girls wearing Gryffindor scarves on the fifth floor. He was nearing the classroom when the wand swiveled in his palm forcing him to retreat back to a staircase and climb down two levels to get to the third floor. He turned a corner and slipped behind a tapestry that could shortcut him to the other side of the castle if it was so inclined.
Luckily it was and Harry stopped hurrying as he had plenty of time to get to class now. On the other side of the passageway, Harry found Hermione talking to Dumbledore at the end of the hall from their D.A.D.A. class. He thought she looked miserable. Dumbledore must be wanting her to do more Headgirl duties or reprimanding her to do better.
Harry spared one last glance their way and entered into the classroom. Most of the Ravenclaws were chattering delightedly throughout the room as they settled into their seats. On his left, Stephen Cornfoot, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, was talking to Rebecca Bradley with a face so red, Harry knew he must be asking her out. To his right, Mandy Brocklethurst was chatting with Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin.
Draco was in the middle without his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, but was still acting as smarmy as ever. He was surrounded by Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini pointing rudely to Su Li and Padma Patil who sat in the front talking to Hobday. The Slytherins laughed cruelly as Harry turned away from them and took his seat in the back.
The bell rang and Harry noticed that Hermione wasn't back in the room yet. She was going to lose them points. What on earth could she and Dumbledore be talking about?
Professor Hobday stood back from Padma and Su and called for attention. Harry's gaze snapped away from the door over to the tall man with salt and pepper goatee. It took the Slytherins a few seconds longer to quiet down and pay attention.
Harry held his wand loosely in his fingertips, waiting to see what Hobday would do. Sometimes he started class with a mock duel against a student and Harry wanted to be prepared. He hadn't fought the man yet but he was looking forward to his turn. Hobday knew some lethal curses and didn't mind tossing the spells around them.
"Right, now that I have all of your attention, let us begin. First a reminder that your 4 foot scroll on common and uncommon Sphinx riddles is due next class. As for today I have a special treat. Hagrid has recently acquired an occamy."
Harry tucked his wand away and sat forward. He knew what an occamy was from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He was interested in seeing if the occamy spoke the same reptilian language as snakes and if he could understand its words.
Hobday brought the snake-bird out from behind his desk and set it on top. The class looked a bit nervous, rightfully so as it was one of Hagrid's pets. Everyone jumped when the creature hissed aloud and rattled the cage. To Harry the hiss was garbled up in rage, but it was something he knew he could understand, despite it being from India.
§Let me out of here or I will bite your arm off, you miserable byproduct of a human!§
Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing at the high pitch voice of the occamy. It snarled even louder and at a higher pitch when Hobday whisked the cloth off the cage. The occamy whipped his tail out through the pipes and hit Hobday's bare arm, leaving a red whelp behind.
§See what you did! Now I have human on me!.§
Several girls shrieked in alarm and the boys leaned forward eager to see what the creature would do next. Hobday merely stepped backwards away from the cage and pulled out his wand. He made a shushing motion and smiled at the class. It was at this moment that the door opened and Hermione stepped through.
She walked up to the professor and handed him a note which he read quickly and folded up. "You may take your seat Miss Granger."
As she did, he lectured the class on the occamy and its distant relation to the basilisk. During the whole class, Harry had trouble ignoring the outbursts of the occamy. It seemed to find the most pleasure in mocking Hobday and Draco Malfoy.
§What are you looking at, you inbred rodent with more gel then hair!§
"You'll note that this is a young occamy. An adult occamy would have required a bigger cage than this one if it had passed inspection in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The typical adult occamy doesn't get any larger than about eight or nine feet. There are records though of some reaching closer to fifteen feet in scale."
§I'll show you young, you wrinkled skin sack!§
Harry snorted loudly and ducked his head down. He was getting queer looks from several Ravenclaws and Slytherins for his strangeness. The occamy caught everybody's attention once again when it bit the bars, cracking one of them. It also apparently cracked its tooth and was howling in pain.
Hobday resorted to casting a silencing charm at the poor creature so he could finish his lecture. Harry was glad when the bell rang and classes for the day were over. When everybody had left, including Hobday, he made his way over to the cage, careful to stay far back from the carnivorous creature. He introduced himself as he took off the silencing charm and unlocked the cage.
§If you'd like, I have a secret chamber in the school that you are welcome to call home.§
The occamy sniffed and said haltingly through its crack fang, §Why should I trust you snake-human?§
§What have you got to lose? I can bring you meat when you need it.§
The occamy crept out of the cage and sat on it's hind legs. §Meat? What kind of meat?§
§Anything the kitchens have,§ Harry replied, shifting the weight of his backpack.
§Can you bring me lamb and fix my tooth?§
Harry nodded, and the occamy considered for another moment before agreeing to try it out. Pleased, Harry cast the charm to fix the occamy's tooth and then gave the snake-bird directions to the entrance on the second floor girls bathroom. After disillusioning the occamy, he left the classroom with a promise to arrive at the Chamber shortly with provisions.
As he was making his way down to the Great Hall, Myrtle flew up to him from the floor.
"Hello, Harry," she said in her usual creepy manner. "Is it time for you to come and work on the Potential Potion?"
"Yeah, I'll be down there shortly," Harry said, dodging around her and hurrying to the kitchens to grab as many lamb chops as he could feasibly carry.
Harry spent the evening in the Chamber of Secrets listening to Serion and Oorjit, the name of the occamy, bicker like two year olds. Moaning Myrtle hovered around him as he fed ingredients into the potion and read the books he'd nicked from the Restricted Section. The one he was currently reading was entitled, So You Want to Become a Dark Lord? It was strange book to have in the school library, but interesting. No mention of Horcruxes yet.
By the end of the evening he was exhausted and moody, Harry was afraid he had been to snappish with Myrtle; she had left with a wail. If he'd been sure that she wasn't sitting in a U-bend somewhere, he would have sought her out and apologized. Instead, he just went to the west wing of the castle and climbed several flights to the Ravenclaw tower.
As he climbed through the portrait, Harry saw the billboard and stopped dead in his tracks. "No, they didn't," he breathed and ran up to the board.
But they did. There next to the sign announcing the Halloween Hogsmeade visit in a week, was a large poster announcing seeker tryouts the day before the Hogsmeade trip. Harry ripped the paper from the board and crumpled it up in rage. It had to be a mistake. Cornfoot must have meant second string tryouts because, he, Harry, was suppose to get the position. He hadn't been Cho's understudy for five years for nothing.
Someone tapped his shoulder and Harry spun around almost slamming his elbow into the bushy haired girl standing before him. She had a determined look on her face and he wondered crossly if she'd give him more detentions under Filch.
"WouldyougotoHogsmeadewithme?" Hermione said in a rush.
Harry's jaw dropped. "What?"
Hermione took a deep breath, licked her lips nervously, and said again slowly, "Would you go to Hogsmeade with
me next week?"