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Angry Harry and the Seven by Sinyk

Hey Guys, this story is written by Sinyk on fanfic net. This is not my work. The only reason I am putting this up is because someone has copied Sinyk's entire work word-for-word on this site (claiming it as his own: Harry Potter and the 7 angers), releasing it at a snail's pace, and is also making money off of it on patreon. Pisses me off to no end. Art is by CruderFive1 on DeviantArt ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay, guys and... guyettes, This one is of epic length. And by that I mean really really long. For those who sent me a note about 'Four Heirs' and thought it long - well, this one blows that one out of the water for length. So, if something only up to - say - 150k words is your cup o' tea, then this isn't for you. No sir-ree! This story hits approximately 480k words. To stop all the whining and bitching right now - yeah, like that's ever going to happen - you'll figure out this is a 'Haphne' story; Dumbledore is (somewhat) good but still manipulative as per canon; Ron's an ineffective non-entity; Snape tries to keep sticking his beak in - and get's it repeatedly thwacked with a rolled-up newspaper; McGonagall gets over her hero-worship of DumDum (I mean, Dumbledore); Hermione is a good friend; Sirius is free; kids are kids; and teenagers are walking bags of hormones. The story follows canon a lot; and I've even included many quoted sections out of the books. I didn't do this to pinch JKR's works. Rather, it's in there to demonstrate similarities while being a different story. So, no biatching about that, either. You've been well and truly warned. Yours, Da crazy bastard who thinks he's an author. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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87 Chs

Chapter Forty Two – Outing a Fraud

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Forty Two – Outing a Fraud

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

In the common room, one of his housemates was just starting on getting into bollixing him out for losing them one hundred points as he walked in through the door, when Harry flared his magic and glared back at the Fourth Year. Parchment and other loose objects in about a twenty foot radius of him leapt into the suddenly swirling air as his magic poured out of him.

The Fourth Year rapidly dove out of the way in fear and intelligently kept his mouth firmly shut.

Harry continued to glare at the older boy as he allowed his magic to quickly subside. "Do not allow yourself to continue thinking you are permitted to speak to me that way," he quietly said.

Harry continued to glare at the boy for another few moments before he walked off down the passageway to his dorm room.

Behind him, he heard a Sixth Year Prefect say, "Wilson? You're an idiot. We had no chance of winning the House Cup, so the loss of points was irrelevant. And, for what the student body - this House included - has put that boy through for the past eight months; I think we can allow him to lose his temper about it, don't you?"

Harry quickly collected a reasonably long roll of parchment, usually used for long assignments, ink and a couple of quills, and brought them back to the common room. Finding himself a vacant study carousel - a rare commodity this time of year - he took seat and placed his stationary on the desk before him.

Getting comfortable, he closed his eyes and set about laying out in his mind what he wanted to write. A great way to not waste parchment, ink and quills.

When he was ready, he took care and began to write in as legible a hand as he could. This would not be about speed in getting the information down. This was about making the information easy to read. And he was taking his time with it.

The Truth About the Published Works

of the Fraud Known as Gilderoy Lockhart

He included it all. He gave page references in each of the books Lockhart forced them to purchase through the school booklists, plus Magical Me!, where the information conflicted. Using the House library he looked up each method of defeating the 'evil' Lockhart was supposed to have used and, where the result was not possible, identified why.

Then he started on how 'Roy E Gild' was 'Gilderoy'. And how Gild was the author of the so-called factual stories of the life of Harry Potter. Of course, the House library had more than one full set of those books donated by previous students, from which he could reference.

With room to spare, he moved on to the life of Lockhart, including his Hogwarts OWL results. Lockhart did not sit his NEWTS, as he did not receive a single Outstanding and only two Exceeds Expectations in Muggle Studies and Divination.

Harry grinned when he remembered Cygnus's note with that information within it. And what Cygnus wrote in his own words. His disgust was quite clear.

He wrote about how no record existed for the man's claimed Order of Merlin, Third Class. And that the Dark Force Defence League only existed on parchment. Parchment which stated Lockhart had set the organisation up, himself.

Another piece of information Cygnus sent him, by way of Sirius, was that the records of competitors of the Dunstable Duelling Championship did not show the name 'Gilderoy Lockhart', 'Roy E. Gild' or even 'Roy Gild' in their past twenty-five years; since Lockhart left Hogwarts. So, he included that.

While he had been writing he was visited by Professor Flitwick, who informed him the punishment assigned by Professor Snape for him had been overturned and no further punishment would be levelled against him. Also, that Malfoy had received a stern lecture from Professor McGonagall complete with the warning that he, Harry, was well within his right to just kill him; and that was precisely what he, Harry, had promised to do if it happened again. And, that Malfoy was having the one hundred points taken off Slytherin House, together with the detention with Filch for the remainder of the school year, since that is what Professor Snape considered a valid punishment.

The fact Professor Flitwick said she said it in front of Professor Snape, without even glancing at the man, amused Harry as much as it seemed to amuse Professor Flitwick.

Returning to his written rant, he questioned why Dumbledore would hire such a man for the important post of Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, when he was clearly unsuited for the role. And that Dumbledore had clearly failed in his duty of care to the school by vetting Lockhart's application for the post.

And, finally, he recommended everyone keep their Lockhart and Gild books - instead of burning them - return them by hand to the bookshops from which they purchased them, and demand an unconditional refund.

His 'spleen' now well vented, Harry almost packed away his things and went to bed.

He was going to make hundreds of copies of his written rant and leave a copy on each place at the four House tables and the head table in the Great Hall, very early the next morning. However, he felt his penmanship still showed through and would quickly identify him as the author. Instead, he pulled out his order form for Flourish & Blotts and found where it said he could order a dicta-quill. And ordered one to be owled to him.

Though it was late, Hedwig was out hunting. She immediately aborted her hunt and flew to the Ravenclaw tower. As apology, Harry handed the owl two owl treats and let her finish them before attaching the order form to the owl's harness.

"There's no rush for this, Hed," he whispered to her. "Take your time flying to Diagon Alley and you can stay there until you're ready to return."

With a final kiss to her head he sent her on her way.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Harry spent almost the entire next day, Sunday, in the infirmary. And only left when Madam Pomfrey would shoo him out to get meals or just 'sunshine', since the snow was well and truly melted away and the days were warming up.

After spending time with Daphne, he'd move on to Tracey, then Hermione. And he told them all about what had happened the previous night. He told Daphne how he knew she'd be upset with him for losing his temper again, but hoped she'd understand why he did it, and that it needed doing.

To Hermione he said he knew how she'd berate him, even using his full given name, and how much it made him wince as he knew what it foretold. And that he knew he was going to be in a world of verbal hurt before she stopped yelling at him.

After lunch he went across to visit young Colin, who had been there the longest, and told him all sorts of things about what he had been up to. That the school no longer seemed to think he was the Heir of Slytherin, after eight very long months, and that he was trying to figure out what it was that had petrified him and the others, since no one else seemed to be doing anything of the sort.

He also told the boy how he was now sleeping near three very beautiful witches and that he'd better watch himself near them or he, Harry, would have to come and deal with him.

To Justin, he spoke about how he didn't even know he was a parselmouth until that night of a disaster known as the one and only duelling club meeting. He also told the boy he was pretty sure the beast was a snake of some kind because it was the emblem of Slytherin House; while people heard hissing coming from the walls, he'd heard speech of a sort; and that it was believed Slytherin's familiar was a king of snakes.

While speaking to young Colin he could see the boy's hands looked as if they were gripping something in front of his face. And that the boy had one eye closed and appeared to be peering through something.

He remembered back to Colin having a camera, carrying it with him everywhere he went, and how he would hold it. That was the same grip he saw of the boy's hands as he lay petrified in the bed.

When Madam Pomfrey came in on one of her rounds, he asked, "Madam Pomfrey, did Colin have his camera in his hands when he was found?"

"Yes, actually; he did," she replied. "Alb... The Headmaster managed to pry it out of his fingers. But when he opened it, it belched out acrid black smoke. The insides had been fried."

"Fried?" he asked.

"Well, melted. As if by a fire," she replied. "And now, you; time to leave again. There's plenty of sunshine out there for you to bask under."

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Harry was spending what time he could with the girls, telling them about how life was progressing without them in it. It was a poorly kept secret where Harry and the other three were spending a great deal of their time.

But it was the return of Hagrid on the Monday that had the student body looking at him with a bit of awe, again.

As he, Neville, Susan and Hannah were sitting down for dinner on Monday night Hagrid came in through the main doors. That had the student body whispering to each other with excitement. Except for some of the Slytherins, of course.

Instead of heading directly to the head table, Hagrid sought out with his eyes, Harry. And, as soon as he spotted him sitting at the Hufflepuff table, headed straight to him.

Hagrid then reached out, lifted Harry out of his seat, and hugged him, firmly. Quietly, quietly for Hagrid that is, the big man said, "Thank you, 'Arry." And set him down on his feet.

Harry shook his head and said, "Not me, Hagrid; Professors McGonagall and Flitwick are who you need to thank. I just gave them a little verbal nudge to do the right thing."

"A verbal nudge. Is tha' wha' ya call it?" said Hagrid with a grin and twinkle in his eyes. "Well, I now 'ave me own lawyer an' ev'rything. He's promised me he's gettin' the 'ole ma'er abou' las' time, ya know, re-investi-gat'd, an' all."

"I'm happy for you, Hagrid," said a smiling Harry. "Good luck."

Hagrid patted him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him to his knees, and made his way to the head table. Professor McGonagall received the greatest shock when Hagrid reached out from behind her, and hugged her and her chair, together.

Professor Flitwick was lifted completely out of his chair and hugged, just as Harry was. But the Charms Master didn't seem to mind. Indeed, he looked happy for his rather large friend.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Harry's package from Flourish & Blotts arrived on the Thursday morning. Recognising what it would be, he didn't open it. Instead, he left it shrunk and dropped it into his pocket for later.

When the others asked him what it was, and why he wasn't opening it, he just said, "It forms part of the next and final step in the public destruction of the fraud known as Gilderoy Lockhart. And I don't want people in here to see it, lest fingers be pointed my way."

That afternoon, Harry grabbed his written notice concerning Lockhart, and joined the others in the Come and Go Room. Though he couldn't make much sense of the instructions on how to use the dicta-quill, Susan stepped in to help him out.

"My Aunt uses these all the time to take accurate statements from people," she explained. "I'm now used to them."

Taking what Harry had already written, she then dictated it to the quill. Everyone else remained silent as she read.

When she was finished, she deactivated the quill and set it aside. And everyone gathered around to see the results.

"Wow," said Neville. "That's pretty neat!"

"I'm impressed," said Harry. "The calligraphy is astounding. And, more importantly, no one is going to have a clue who wrote it."

"However," said Susan. "Anyone with experience of a dicta-quill is going to recognise the - handwriting - if you will. If someone really wants to investigate who drafted this, they'd first go searching for the quill."

"They'd need evidence before they could search a student's trunk on the off-chance it was a student who did it," said Harry. "I think I made enough changes to my usual style of writing to throw them off the scent to come looking at me.

"Besides, my trunk is locked to my and Daphne's magical signatures. They'd have to destroy it to get in. I cannot see them doing that."

"Now that it's done, what do you want to do with it?" asked Neville.

"Make copies," replied Harry. "Make hundreds of copies. I plan to sneak into the Great Hall, very early in the morning, and leave a copy of this at every place setting; including the staff. Any I have left over will be stuck with sticking charms to oft used doors, later."

"And then wait for all the fun as the students come in..." mused Hannah.

Taking out a whole stack of unused parchment Hannah and Susan then started to rip sheets into smaller pieces to be transfigured. As their two strongest in Transfiguration and the Copy Charm, Harry and Neville started making the copies. Once they each had ten, they then started to copy ten at a time.

After about the first half dozen times of doing this, Harry switched to hitting each small stack with a Permanency Charm so that they'd last for at least a couple of days.

After the first couple hundred, they had to stop. Though they were getting much better at drawing in and channelling magic, it still took a lot out of them. Besides, they needed to go to dinner.

However, straight after dinner, they were back in the Room to finish everything up.

Harry packed away his new dicta-quill, bundled the parchment and shrunk it. It all went into his bookbag.

A quick Tempus Charm and they saw they had a little while left before curfew, so decided to visit their friends in the infirmary.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The next morning, after his very early wake up alarm, Harry donned his invisibility cloak, cast a Silencing Charm on himself, and hurried down to the Great Hall. Three quarters of an hour later, he was back in his dorm and in bed.

He waited until his dorm mates were up and moving before he rose again. Pretending he'd only just woken up, he went through his ablutions and took his time getting ready.

Then walked with a couple of other Ravenclaws down to the Great Hall. He was a little early, but that was planned. He didn't want he or his friends to be the first ones down, but he also wanted to ensure he got there early enough to catch if someone tried to collect all the notices.

He'd used a low-powered Sticking Charm to ensure one of the younger students didn't collect them all up, but it wouldn't have been beyond the teaching staff's ability.

Walking in, he saw the other three had already beaten him down and were sitting at the Gryffindor table. They were grinning like loons. However, it didn't stand out because that seemed to be the expressions on other faces. Some were scowling while they were reading, some had already finished reading and kept looking up at the head table. Lockhart's seat was vacant as he always liked to have an audience already in the Hall when he made a grand entrance.

Most of the staff were already sitting down, and none of them seemed inclined to gather up all the notices.

However, both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick noticed him entering. Both were slightly smiling back at him. Harry affected a mien of divine innocence and curiosity that seemed to fool them not in the least.

Sitting with his friends, Hannah made a show of showing him the notice. So, he tried to pick it up. When he couldn't he used his wand to cancel the charm on it, picked it up and proceeded to look as if he was avidly reading it.

In all the right places he schooled his expression to show the proper emotions and animatedly talked to his friends about it.

Looking around, he could see some of the students in small groups had their supposed DADA texts on the table before them, and were comparing the information within with what was included in the notice. And they weren't happy. They even started drawing small crowds of people around them, who were reading over their shoulders.

When the woodpecker finally made his entrance, the entire Hall went quiet. Everyone was glaring at him with some level of hostility.

A little worried about the reaction his entrance generated, he quickly took seat with an obvious artificial bonhomie and tried to engage the staff around him, including Professor Snape, in conversation.

Snape merely indicated the notice and offered him one he'd already removed the Sticking Charm from. Then sat looking at him with, scarily enough, a smile.

Harry and the others did not have to mask carefully watching the man as the entire Hall sat there in silence watching him. And some looked ready to kill him on the spot. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Babbage and Vector all had their wands out and in plain sight, and were carefully watching the student body. The warning was obvious.

As soon as the fop started reading, he went white. Then passed from white to green.

After reading what looked like only the first couple of paragraphs, he suddenly stood up and bolted from the room out the nearest staff entrance, knocking his chair over in the process; his indigo and gold robes flapping behind him.

One wag, Harry didn't know who, called, "Goodbye, fraud!" just before the man reached the door.

Once he was gone, excited noise returned to the Hall.

Professor McGonagall stood and waited for the Hall to quieten down again. "It appears," she intoned. "Our - Professor Lockhart - has taken ill."

That earned her quite a few snickers.

"As such," she continued. "I believe Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, for at least the rest of the day, will be cancelled."

And that earned her a few cheers.

Turning to look at Harry, she said, "Mister Potter; do you know anything about this?"

The other three grinned at him as the entire Hall watched wondering what he'd do.

Harry slowly stood and stepped back over his bench seat before facing the head table. "Professor. I should be shocked and disappointed..."

"But, you're not," said one wag clearly enough from down the Gryffindor table, which earned him a few snickers. And made even Professor McGonagall's lips twitch a bit.

"... that you would imply such vile and baseless claims against me," he calmly continued, choosing to ignore the remark. "I would have you know, I suspect I have the alibi of my own dorm mates; who may attest I was abed until after 7.00am, when I rose to attend my ablutions before hurrying down here; at such time arriving after you, yourself."

"Uh-huh!" said the Professor, clearly not believing him. "If it is discovered, by chance, you are responsible for this, I shall be forced to dock Ravenclaw House - One point. That is all." And sat down again.

Harry gave a slight bow before returning to his own seat.

The message was loud and clear to every one. Firstly, that she knew it was Harry who did it. Secondly, that they weren't going to be investigating. And, thirdly, that she was not upset with him for doing it.

A few moments later, Professor Flitwick motioned for the Acting Headmistress to draw closer. She leaned over to hear what he had to say.

"You noticed he did not deny it?" he muttered.

"Of course, I did," she muttered back. "The words he used we're quite specific. Should. Would have. May."

The Weasley twins, of course, immediately questioned Harry about how he did it. In response, and as a firm believer that sometimes a good defence is a weak offence, he accused them of doing it and implicating him as their scapegoat.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Outside of meals, on a couple of occasions, Harry went to the scene of the crimes of the other victims, usually taking Neville with him.

And since Flophart and most of his personal effects had disappeared since the previous Friday, with clear signs of a hasty departure, they also had the extra time of the two sessions of DADA free.

He found out from the Gryffindors where Colin was found, and stood in the same spot as if he had a camera in his hands. From there he then headed down to where he first saw Finch-Fletchley and had Neville stand where he knew Sir Nicholas to 'roughly' be. If he hadn't fallen over.

And, considering exactly how Justin was lying when Harry found him, Harry was able to get a pretty accurate idea of where he was standing, and in which direction he was facing.

"Alright," he said to Neville. "Sir Nicholas would normally float with his feet about two feet off the floor..."

Harry darted into the nearest classroom and came out with a normal class stool. He placed it where he believed Sir Nicholas would have been floating and told Neville to kneel on it, if he could. Gingerly, Neville complied. But, he still appeared to be uncomfortable.

"Alright," said Harry. "And Finch-Fletchley would have stood right here with his head just so; looking..." And found himself staring at Neville's chest. "Damn!" he exclaimed.

"What?" asked Neville, a little wobbly on the stool. "Hop down, Neville. And come standing where I am."

Neville moved to where Harry stood and facing the same way. And Harry went to the stool and kneeled on it.

"Alright, Nev," he said. "What are you looking straight at?"

"Your chest," frowned the boy.

"Okay, now what would you see if I was a silvery, somewhat translucent, ghost of Sir Nicholas's stature?"

Neville frowned and stepped a full pace to the left. "I'd be looking right through him and see straight down the corridor."

"Precisely," said Harry, a little excited. He hopped off the stool and pushed it a little out of the way before moving back to stand where the stool was placed. "Sir Nicholas was standing here. And Finch-Fletchley was standing..."

Neville took the pace back and said, "Here."

"... yes," said Harry. "The two meet coming from opposite directions. Sir Nicholas is a friendly sort, so he stops to have a chat; even if the student is from another House. And Finch-Fletchley is a 'Puff so..." and he shrugged. "So, they're having a chat. Finch-Fletchley sees movement, through Sir Nicholas, down the corridor, he gets petrified and topples over.

"Sir Nicholas, who looks you in the eye when he talks to you, sees the look of surprised shock pass over Finch-Fletchley's face right before he's petrified and topples. Knowing it has to be something behind him, and maybe even thinking whatever it was wouldn't harm him because he's already dead, and he could discover the identity of the culprit for the staff, Sir Nicholas spins around to take a look for himself. And, whatever it is, petrifies him too."

"Wow!" said Neville. "You think?"

"Yeah, Nev," replied Harry. "I think."

After Harry returned the stool to the classroom, he and Neville started to make their way back to the Great Hall.

On the way, Harry continued with his thinking. "As Sir Nicholas got the full brunt, rather than a reflection or refraction it effected him more. He turned up black and smoky. According to Madam Pomfrey, black smoke is also what came out of young Mister Creevey's camera when Dumbledore opened it. She said the insides of the camera had been burnt.

"So, Mrs Norris saw - whatever it was - in the reflection of the water in the corridor. Colin saw it through the lens of his camera. Justin saw it through Sir Nicholas. And our girls saw it in the refection of the mirror.

"Now, Nev," said Harry, turned them both until they were facing each other. "Where were the girls before they ended up in that corridor with the compact mirror. What where they doing?"

Neville frowned in thought and said, "They said they were going to the library. Hermione said she had an idea what it might be..."

"Not 'who'?" asked Harry interrupting.

"Ummm..." frowned Neville before he looked back at Harry. "No. She definitely said 'it'. Because Hannah said, when they left, 'Don't they mean "who"?' and I remember that."

"Alright," said Harry, starting them walking again. "What happened then? Do you know?"

"Hermione said she had an idea what it might be, and she needed help looking through books of magical creatures," said Neville.

"The fact she had that mirror in hand means she, or they, figured it out and were on their way back to you three" said Harry. "Damn! I wish she'd had her bookbag with her. She's always writing things down."

"Well, she's holding a piece of parchment in her hand now, Harry," said Neville.

"What?" asked Harry, stopping them both again. "I thought she was holding a mirror."

"Her other hand, Harry," he replied.

"The one she's got clenched against her middle?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," replied Neville. "You can just see the parchment sticking out the top of her - fist, I guess."

"We need that piece of parchment," declared Harry. "Straight after dinner you and I are going to the infirmary to get it."

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The four immediately headed to the infirmary after dinner, and entered quietly. Madam Pomfrey wasn't on the main floor, so they suspected she was in her office or private quarters.

They quickly made their way to each side of Hermione's bed and Neville pointed to Hermione's left fist. "There. Do you see it?" he whispered.

"You're the strongest of us, Neville," whispered Harry. "You pull her fingers open and I'll ease it out; alright?"

Neville nodded and reached out with both hands to grip Hermione by the wrist and jamb his own fingers under her fingertips.

It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Neville had to strain hard to get her fingers even a little open. Harry was gently pulling on the tip of the parchment, where it peeked out, and was sure he was going to tear it. While Neville continued to struggle, and the girls kept watch, Harry tugged and twisted. At last, after several tense minutes, the parchment came free.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly, and Neville and the girls leaned close to read it, too.

Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand they all recognised as Hermione's. Pipes.

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in Harry's brain.

"Neville," he breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber is a basilisk; a giant serpent! That's why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue..."

"The crowing of the rooster - is fatal to it!" Hannah read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! I remember the older students talking about it in our common room. The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened!"

"But how has the basilisk been getting around the place?" asked Neville. "A giant snake - Someone would've seen..."

Susan, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page.

"Pipes," she said. "Pipes, Neville. It's been using the plumbing. And Harry's been hearing that voice inside the walls..."

"But this still doesn't tell us where the entrance could be found," said Harry. "And I, for one, want a piece of this thing."

"I, for one, am amazed Hermione actually ripped a page out of a book!" said Hannah.

"Focus; Hannah!" said Susan, before looking at Harry. "Harry, it's a bloody basilisk! We need to tell the staff!"

"That'll go down well, don't you think?" said Neville. "Excuse me, Professor? We know you're like seventy years old, and all; but, us four twelve year olds have solved the crime you and the rest of the staff have been scratching your heads about all year. It's a basilisk."

"And, no; we don't know where it is," continued Harry. "Nor, how to get into the Chamber, if that's where it's been hiding; why it's now woken up; how it managed to write words on the wall; if there is someone who's controlling it, who they are; or anything else, really."

"We won't be believed," said Susan, sadly.

"No," replied Harry with a sigh. "We're going to have to figure the rest of it by ourselves."

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Now that they new the truth about what and - mostly - how it was happening, they still needed to know who was behind it, and find the Chamber, or wherever the basilisk was being kept.

When they mapped out where all the attacks were taking place, it was easy to see they were all centred on the second floor, and near the passage where Mrs Norris was attacked. So, that was where they focussed their search. Each of them, from that moment on, carried a small hand-held mirror, and used it religiously to look around corners before moving from one corridor to the next.

They searched behind tapestries and suits of armour; they jiggled and wrenched upon wall sconces and torch brackets; they checked behind the various paintings; and they researched for, and used, various detection spells.

After almost two weeks, they were getting to the stage of searching individual bricks looking for whatever they could find. When others happened upon them in their search, they would stop and help for a while. However, with exams rapidly approaching, most students wanted to get stuck into revision work.

Harry had also ducked over to Hogsmeade the previous Wednesday - now that the day was completely free for him - and purchased two new roosters. Because he didn't feel confident in doing it, he found a witch who was willing to transfigure them into simple blocks of wood. She also did it in such a way that a simple Cancellation Charm, Finite Incantatem, would revert them back to roosters.

When she asked what he wanted them for - apparently worried he might be 'into' dark magic rituals - he told her that someone, or something, had killed all of Hagrid's roosters. She thought him a good boy for buying Hagrid two new ones. He simply did not tell her that was not why he bought them.

From then on, Harry had taken to carrying one block around in his book bag; and having Neville carry the other.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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Once again this is not my work. Original work is written by Sinyk on fanfic.net

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