Ch18

Harry awoke the next morning to the sensation of three stinging hexes cast in quick succession. "Ow!" he complained as he reached for his wand and disarmed his unknown assailant. "What was that for?"

"Sorry Harry," Percy said apologetically. "But I've heard that trying to wake you up conventionally just gets you hexed for your trouble."

"So you thought you'd get in a preemptive strike?" Harry asked, annoyed, as he tossed Percy his wand back. "What's so important that you're waking me up at this ungodly hour?"

"It's 8:30," Percy informed him, rather pompously. Harry rather marveled at the prefect's ability to sound pompous even when doing such mundane things as giving the time. Draco had that same tendency sometimes. It must be a Pureblood thing.

"No one should be up before nine on a day they don't have class unless it is a matter of life or death," Harry said seriously. "And I'm sure Ron and Neville have explained what happens when people do wake me up. And considering that those are two of my best friends, imagine how badly I'd hex anybody else…"

Percy gulped. "Indeed. Well, as it turns out, this is an emergency. My sister was petrified last night."

"Ginny?" Harry repeated disbelievingly. Talk about ironic. She was about the last person Harry would have every expected to get petrified – aside from himself, of course. Clearly Riddle was getting fed up with the lack of results his basilisk was getting due to Harry's ready supply of Mandrake Potion and had decided it was open season instead of bothering with verifying someone's blood status. Not like Pettigrew would even have a way of finding that out, unlike Ginny. "What was she even doing out? There's no way a basilisk could fit in the Gryffindor Common Room, and chances are if it did, someone else would have noticed it."

"Yes, well," Percy continued, looking a bit awkward. "She wasn't in the Common Room…and neither was the boy they found her with."

Harry choked. "Boy? She's bloody eleven!"

Percy peered curiously at him. "Most people your age wouldn't reach that conclusion quite so quickly, if at all."

Harry shrugged. "Since when have I ever been 'most people'? So who was with her? And are they both alright?"

"Neville Longbottom," Percy replied promptly. "I believe he is a friend of yours. Do you have any idea what Ginny and Neville were doing out after curfew together? They weren't very far away from the Fat Lady and Peeves was found petrified nearby, so they probably saw the basilisk through him."

"Wow," Harry said, somewhat shakily. "That was lucky." To think that they hadn't even thought to bring a mirror! If Peeves hadn't happened to be there…that never would have happened the last time. Perhaps it was because Harry's timely interventions meant that no one was petrified for long that no one was taking the threat seriously this time? That could be a problem. He'd have to give Gryffindor a lecture about that later and hoped they spread the word.

"Indeed," Percy nodded. "If something had happened to Ginny…" he shook his head, leaving the thought unfinished. "Follow me."

----

"You killed my cat!" Filch accused the moment the two stepped into the Hospital Wing.

Harry blinked. "Unless I'm very much mistaken – which is a very real possibility given my almost-constant sense of déjà vu – didn't we already have this conversation?"

"You did," Dumbledore said gravely. "But alas, Mrs. Norris was attacked again last night."

"That's, what, four people?" Harry asked. At Dumbledore's nod, he continued, "That's quite a lot for one attack. Oh, here," he handed Madame Pomfrey three vials of Mandrake Potion. "Sorry I don't have one for Mrs. Norris, but I had only heard about Neville, Ginny, and Peeves."

"SHE DOESN'T NEED YOUR BLOODY POTION, SHE'S DEAD!" Filch roared.

"Oh," Harry said quietly, taken aback. He hadn't expected that. His friends and fellow students, though tending to get more careless as time went by, at least had the option of carrying around a mirror. Mrs. Norris not only hadn't had a chance in that regard, but apparently hadn't been standing behind Peeves at the time of the basilisk's appearance. He felt horrible for Filch. Granted, the man was unpleasant in the extreme and Harry had often fantasized about killing that accursed cat, but he would never have actually done it. She was all Filch had, really, and being the Squib caretaker in a school full of wizarding children who hated him…Harry resolved to write to Mrs. Figg the minute this was over. He had an idea.

"I'm sorry," Harry said lamely.

"No you're not," Filch said bitterly. "You hated her the way everyone always hated her. She wouldn't have given you any trouble if you'd just follow the rules. If those two," he jerked his head towards Ginny and Neville, "had just stayed in their Common Room where they belonged, this never would have happened. It never should have happened. " With that, Filch stormed out of the Hospital Wing.

Harry stood there awkwardly until he heard Ginny start to cough. "Are you okay?" he asked, rushing to her side.

"Yeah, I-what happened?" she asked slowly.

"You were attacked by the basilisk last night. It killed Mrs. Norris and petrified you, Neville, and Peeves," Harry explained.

"I never thought I'd say it," Neville spoke up, also awake now, "but we really owe him one. Let's also never mention this to him lest he tries to enlist our help in some inane prank that will earn us detentions every day for a month."

"Or cost us hundreds of House Points," Ginny agreed.

"On the other hand," Harry said quickly. "You do owe him your lives."

"If you're that desperate to lose hundreds of House Points, why don't YOU work with Peeves to pay him back for saving us?" Neville shot back.

Dumbledore looked outright shocked at the thought of anyone actively seeking to lose points. After mulling it over for a moment, he decided that Neville must be kidding and still coping with his recent traumatic experience. "What were you and Miss Weasley doing outside of your Common Room after curfew, Mr. Longbottom?" he asked.

"Well…" Neville began, sounding a bit embarrassed.

"Ron was giving us a hard time because he wanted Neville to go over by him and Hermione but he didn't want me there and when Neville said he'd rather keep talking to me, Ron blew up and started accusing me of trying to steal all of his friends," Ginny said bluntly. "So we left. We didn't go far and we didn't think anything would happen-"

"But it did, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said gently.

"I know," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

"I hope you learn from this that the curfew was put in place to protect you, especially now that there is a basilisk on the loose. Still, that's twenty points from Gryffindor," Dumbledore informed them gravely.

Given the serious nature of the discussion, Harry held himself back from cheering.

----

A couple weeks later, Harry himself had almost settled into the strange pattern of reflection-checking, random petrifactions, and almost instant revivals. Almost, but not quite, because unlike everyone else he had the memory of what had happened the last time the basilisk was unleashed.

Currently, he was standing in the Great Hall with Ron, Hermione, and Neville waiting for the first (and only, to Harry's recollection) meeting of the Dueling Club to begin.

"I'm just saying, I don't see how nobody's heard about any of this," Hermione was saying. "I mean, for God's sake, the attacks started a month and a half ago!"

"Who would write home about this?" Ron asked, looking at her as if she were mental. "Our parents would pull us out of school faster than you can say 'Harry has an unlimited supply of Mandrake Potion and we all check around every corner with mirrors so we're really not in much danger.'"

"Ron, you could do quite a bit by the time you say all of that," Neville said, amused. "Isn't the normal expression 'Faster than you can say Quidditch'?"

"Yeah, but I figured my way is more appropriate to the situation," Ron replied.

"I do not have an unlimited supply," Harry corrected him. "In fact, I really need to order some more. I'm just glad everyone does keep using mirrors or else things could start to get serious."

"Could start?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Harry, there's one of the most poisonous creatures known to man travelling freely around the school and attacking students; it's already serious. And I know that no one wants to worry their parents and we do seem to be suffering no permanent damage – except Mrs. Norris, of course – but why hasn't there been any mention of this in any alternative forums? The Daily Prophet at least."

"I've been bribing them," Harry said simply.

"You've been WHAT?" Hermione shrieked.

"Keep it down," Harry said irritably. "This isn't exactly public knowledge."

"But Harry, you can't just-" Hermione began helplessly.

"Actually, I can, and let me just say that it really says something about a society if the only 'respectable' newspaper is not only owned by the government but is willing to be bribed by a twelve-year-old. And it's not like I'm doing this just for kicks, although I am perhaps enjoying making them write something that I approve of for once."

"What justification could you possibly have?" Hermione demanded.

"If certain factions hear word that Dumbledore can't keep us safe from the basilisk that is running wild through our school, they will remove him and appoint a Ministry stooge as Headmaster instead. That not only won't help, it will probably make the situation ten times worse. I don't want this to get any more complicated than it already is, and turning this into a political game will do that," Harry told her.

"Hey is that Lockhart?" Ron asked. "With Snape?"

"Are either of them qualified to teach Dueling?" Hermione asked with pursed lips.

"Maybe not Lockhart," Harry conceded. "But Snape knows a ton about Dark Arts and I gather he's a rather competent duelist."

"Perhaps," Hermione allowed. "But I still think it should be Flitwick; he was a Dueling Champion when he was younger, you know."

Harry watched as Lockhart and Snape's demonstration went almost exactly the way it had before – with Snape blasting Lockhart into a wall. Still, Harry had coached Lockhart a bit on what to do in case he was ever overpowered and didn't want to admit it and so instead of protesting that he knew Snape was going to do it all along and sounding entirely unconvincing, Lockhart went the more practical route of smiling and thanking Snape for the fine example and warning the students not to put so much power into their spells. In fact, Lockhart almost made it wound like it was Snape's mistake that had him flying into the wall, not Lockhart's. Snape, predictably, looked murderous and his hand twitched for his wand so Lockhart hastily split the observers into pairs.

Snape walked by and paired Harry and Neville together, Hermione with Millicent Bulstrode, and Ron with Draco.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to-"

Lockhart didn't get any further as Ron and Draco had begun hexing each other the minute Snape's back was turned.

Looking rather put out, Snape eventually separated them and called them up to the stage so they could try again without endangering everyone around them. Lockhart had actually tried to use Harry and Neville, but Snape had pointed out that Harry never took anything seriously unless it involved extreme emotional trauma on the part of one of his friends or if someone died and Lockhart was forced to concede the point.

Snape walked over to Draco and Lockhart went over by Ron. Harry was too far away to hear what they were saying, but from the smirk on Draco's face and the alarmed look on Ron's once Lockhart dropped his wand, he had a fairly good idea of what was going to happen next. The only question was what to do about it.

"Three – two – one – go!" Lockhart shouted.

"Serpensortia!" Malfoy yelled the second Lockhart said 'go', not giving Ron any chance to react.

Harry watched dispassionately as a large, black snake burst forth from Draco's wand. Was embarrassing Ron really worth the trouble that both Draco and Snape could get in for setting a potentially poisonous snake (Harry really wasn't sure if it was but hoped that it wasn't because he just couldn't believe that Snape would be so irresponsible) on a bunch on schoolchildren? Although to be fair, it was quite impressive that Draco managed to pull off a snake conjuring at the tender age of twelve; Harry didn't think he learned how to do that until sometime either fifth or sixth year. Then again, he hadn't grown up knowing he was a wizard and playing with magic whenever his (dead) parents weren't looking, either.

Harry slowly made his way up to the stage as his peers stood transfixed by the large serpent.

"Don't move, Weasley," Snape said lazily, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I'll get rid of it…" He seemed to be in no hurry, though, so that snake had better be harmless. Harry thought he heard somewhere that the larger snakes were often non-toxic but could crush people, so setting that snake on Ron was still horribly unprofessional and – if the look on his friend's face was any indication – incredibly traumatizing. Ron was literally shaking. At least it wasn't spiders.

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart, unable to resist the opportunity to show off. He waved his wand with a flourish and there was a loud bang that sent the snake flying into the air. When it landed, it was understandably enraged and heading straight for Justin Finch-Fletchley. Again. Was he just snake bait or something?

Harry groaned. He had a plan for this, but he wasn't quite sure that it would work considering everyone was well aware that a giant snake was running around the castle. "Look, the guy who attacked you didn't mean to, he's just one of the worst wizards I've ever met. I know you're mad and probably confused as hell and certainly didn't ask for this, but if you bite anyone, you'll only get yourself killed," Harry told the snake in Parseltongue. He climbed onto the stage and beckoned the snake towards him. "Just calm down and come with me. If you just slowly come to me, they won't hurt you. I'm the only one who can understand you here and if you don't listen to me, who knows what they'll do?"

The snake looked at him for a long moment and then slowly began making its way in Harry's general direction. Draco, Harry noticed with almost malicious glee, visibly paled and gulped as the snake slithered past him. Served him right.

"For those of you who are undoubtedly concocting fantastic scenarios in your head about how I'm the Heir of Slytherin after all because I can speak Parseltongue, I want you to look very closely at my hands. See how I'm gesturing for the snake to stay on the stage with me where you won't be in any danger? See how I'm totally not endangering anyone or egging the snake on? And yes, I'm talking to you Justin and Ernie. You guys jump to conclusions more rapidly than Ron and Hermione." Harry shook his head despairingly.

Ernie bristled slightly at the implied insult. Clearly he had also noticed Ron and Hermione's proclivity for jumping to conclusions. Actually, it was more like skydiving to conclusions. "Then what were you saying to it?" Ernie challenged.

Harry almost rolled his eyes. Did Ernie honestly think Harry would be telling the snake to do something nefarious and then confess it? Maybe he would have last time, but Harry had been spending far too much time with Slytherins recently to do something quite so inane. "It's basically been variations of 'Come over by me so people don't kill you,'" he said finally.

Snape was the first to recover from the shockwaves Harry's announcement of sorts that he was a Parselmouth had sent through the room and quickly vanished the snake.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said brightly. "I'm glad you saw fit to clean up the mess you caused by telling Draco to cast that spell."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter," Snape snapped.

Harry grinned. He had a vague suspicion that Snape knew how much he enjoyed losing points but helped him anyway in the vain hope that Dumbledore would actually let someone other than Harry win the House Cup.

"In case anyone's interested, now that my Parselmouth abilities is public knowledge, I'm here to announce that I'm willing to translate a conversation you want to have with a snake – any snake, I don't care, just bring it to me – for however long you want at two sickles per five minutes." Harry could swear that he heard Hermione groaning somewhere in the audience. "I also want to reiterate again that I am NOT the Heir of Slytherin and if I were then I definitely wouldn't be eating the cost of the Mandrake Potions and start charging for them. But no, instead I am giving them out for free to anyone who needs them with no benefit for myself." Harry paused. "Well, technically I'm using them as a tax deductible, but other than that, it's completely selfless. Remember, anytime you want to talk to a serpent, let me know. Now, if that's all, it's been a great Dueling Meeting, but now I'm off to bed."

With that, Harry walked off the stage and out of the Great Hall, leaving a largely-stunned audience behind him.