Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

Thoughts of vampires and the Rotfang Conspiracy filling my head, I go to see Dumbledore next.

"Perhaps it's best if you impose a strict curfew from now on," I suggest. "Lock us all in our house areas at night if need be. It's just not safe to be wandering around at night, even less than usual right now."

"I kept the news of Colin's death quiet today, but I do not believe I should do so any longer," Dumbledore says heavily, sighing.

"You hoped that I would still somehow find a way to save him, didn't you," I say quietly.

"Would that you could," Dumbledore says. "And to think I was the one who lectured you about not being able to save everyone."

"I understand," I say quietly. "And I apologize, that perhaps I was a bit harsh on you for it."

Dumbledore shakes his head. "No, perhaps it was I who was a bit harsh on you, instead. But your suggestion is a good one. Although we already have a curfew and students shouldn't be wandering around at night, it is not perhaps enforced as strictly as it could be."

"I just hope that measures like this might be able to keep the everyone safe," I say. "If nothing else, maybe they'd be attacked while I'm awake instead."

"They will threaten to close the school if we cannot catch the culprit," Dumbledore says. "Even as they did fifty years ago."

"When Myrtle was killed," I say, nodding. "Well, we can hardly keep Colin's death a secret forever, but they don't need to know how he died. If that got out, I can't imagine anyone wanting to stay or keep their children in Hogwarts."

"Yes, I agree," Dumbledore says. "The basilisk must be kept quiet. Very well, we will try your suggestion. Best run along to bed, now. It's getting close to curfew as it is."

The next month passes without further incident, and I start to dare to hope that these measures might be able to keep the students safe. February comes around, and a holiday called Valentine's Day. We didn't do anything with it last year, but Lockhart apparently wants to do something this year.

"Do you think it's entirely appropriate to be planning this sort of event, so soon after a child has died?" I ask him.

"It will be good for people," Lockhart says. "Give them a chance to relax and let off some tension."

"As you say," I reply dubiously.

Come the day of the event, the Great Hall is decorated in shades of pink, white, and red, with flowers and hearts adorning the place, and heart-shaped confetti falling from the ceiling. I do hope that none of it gets in my food. Up at the staff table, Lockhart is impossible to miss in his vivid pink robes. After hearing Lockhart's suggestion of asking Snape for Love Potions, I have to wonder if I'm going to wind up having to commit suicide to convince Lockhart that this was all a terrible idea and should be called off at the last minute, or at least toned down.

A dozen dwarves wearing fake wings and carrying harps parades into the Great Hall, looking none too pleased at their role. I wonder how Lockhart managed to convince them to play this part.

I turn to look back at my breakfast, and see that a layer of confetti has begun to blanket it. Ugh, that's disgusting. As I'm trying to pick it off, I don't notice Lockhart coming up behind me.

"So, Harry, how do you like the event?" he asks.

"You should have made the confetti avoid falling on the tables or something," I reply.

"Ah, my apologies," Lockhart says. "Let's see if I can do something about that."

He pulls out his wand and casts a spell, and the confetti lifts itself off from the table. Some of it goes up my nose, and I sneeze involuntarily.

"Alright there, Harry?" Lockhart says. "Here, let me help you with that."

Another spell, and I find myself choking. I can't breathe! What in the Abyss is Lockhart trying to do to me? Well, I'm sure he wouldn't hurt me intentionally, he swore an oath of loyalty to me after all, but he is the sort of person who could and has accidentally killed people. I can't even breathe to tell him to cancel whatever he's doing or to cancel it myself. I won't learn about nonverbal magic for years yet.

"All better, Harry?" Lockhart says.

Ron's eyes widen, looking at me. "He's turning blue!"

"Ah?" Lockhart says, looking at me dumbly. "Oops."

At that point, I lose consciousness.

I wake. I'm in my dorm room rather than the hospital wing, and it appears to be before breakfast still, so it would appear that Lockhart managed to kill me. Alright, I think I'm going to need to give him a bit of a lecture this morning. I get dressed and head straight for his office.

"My dear Harry!" Lockhart says upon opening the door. "What can I do for you this morning?"

I step inside, close the door, and mutter, "Muffliato. Colloportus." Then I turn to look at him pointedly. "Lockhart. Do not cast any spell on me that I do not specifically request, even if you think I might want it."

"Ah?" Lockhart says, raising an eyebrow. "My apologies, then."

"That's a warning," I say. "If you kill me again, I will... be quite annoyed and do something unpleasant to you."

"Er, sorry, sorry," Lockhart says, stammering a little. "What did I do?"

"I don't know what you cast, but I wound up suffocating," I say. I sigh, and rub my temples. "Alright. You're planning to have confetti fall from the ceiling of the Great Hall, yes? Please make certain that it does not get in the food. Ask Flitwick for help with the charm if you need to."

"I'd best see to that right away, then," Lockhart says dejectedly.

I remove my spells, and head out to the Great Hall. I really don't care if he wants to have his silly little event, so long as he doesn't wind up, you know, killing me in the process.

Breakfast goes a bit better this time, without choking to death or even getting heart-shaped confetti in my food. The dwarves then proceed to publicly humiliate half the school by delivering singing valentines to them, even during classes. I have to wonder just how Lockhart managed to convince the other teachers to agree to this.

One of the dwarves intercepts me in the hallway after Charms class. "Excuse me. Harry Potter? I've got a valentine for you."

"Sure, let's have it, then," I say, smirking a little and ignoring the crowd. This ought to be good for a laugh at least.

The dwarf proceeds to sing something truly horrendous involving comparing my eyes to the color of pickled toad. He can't even make it past the first line before I'm practically doubled over in laughter. Nobody could have seriously sent me a valentine like that! I'm guessing that Draco Malfoy sent it to me just to try to humiliate me.

"I wonder where Ginny's going in such a hurry," Luna comments. I didn't even realize either of them were there.

I wipe tears of laughter out of my eyes, and say, "Alright, alright. I've got a valentine for you to deliver." I pull the dwarf aside away from the prying eyes and ears of the crowd. Luna follows us, but that's alright. I bring out a parchment and quill, and hurriedly scribble up a terrible poem of my own.

"Who's this for?" the dwarf asks as I hand it to him.

"Draco Malfoy," I say.

"You like Draco Malfoy, Stormseeker?" Luna asks absently as the dwarf runs off.

"Who else could have sent me that awful poem?" I say.

"I didn't realize Draco was interested in boys," Luna says.

I peer at her. "Wait, why are you wondering that Draco is interested in boys, but not me?"

"Well, you are pretty obviously gay," Luna says lightly.

I snort softly. "I'm totally not, but I think I'm not going to concern myself overly much with such things for the next several years."

"That's probably wise," Luna says thoughtfully, cocking her head at me. "Perhaps you are merely interested in blonds."

"Huh?" I say.

"Professor Lockhart, Draco, and I are all blond," Luna says.

"I'm not even going there, Luna," I say, turning to head off toward the Great Hall for lunch. I'd love to see the look on Draco's face when he gets his valentine, but I've probably already missed it.

Yeah, it looks like I've missed it. Draco is seated at the Slytherin table, looking positively steamed and gritting his teeth.

"Well, I thought it was cute," Blaise is telling him.

"You would," Draco half-growls.

"Too bad nobody's sent me a valentine," Blaise says.

Draco notices me eavesdropping nearby and glares over toward me. "What are you looking at, Potter? Don't tell me you heard it, too?"

"Heard what?" I ask innocently.

Draco glowers at the Slytherin table. "If he doesn't know already, I forbid you all from telling him!"

"Well, now you've got me curious," I say.

"Draco got an anonymous valentine," Blaise says, grinning conspiratorily at me.

"Blaise!" Draco snaps. "You traitor!"

Blaise recites, "Like melted butter is his hair, and worse than his bite is his roar, I wish I could be friend to the dragon fair, and I can always hope for more."

"It was terrible!" Draco says.

"Not as bad as the one I got," I say. "My eyes got compared to fresh pickled toad. Butter's a big improvement over that, I think."

Draco thinks about that for a moment. "Alright, I hate to admit it, but you do have a point, Potter. But still!"

Hmm, judging by that reaction, he wasn't the one who sent me that valentine? Oh well. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have tried so hard to write an equally bad poem in return. And then realized that I utterly fail at writing poetry that is that bad even if I try.

"If I were you, Draco," I say. "I wouldn't take this silly event too seriously. Just be glad that at least the confetti isn't getting into the food."

"Thank Merlin for small favors," Draco mutters.

The next meeting of the Stormseeker Conspiracy is that Saturday. All five of us are to be present. I'm there for my 'detention' with Snape first, however.

"I can't believe you brought Lockhart of all people into this," Snape says in disgust.

"I couldn't risk him thinking that it might be a good idea to Obliviate me," I say.

"Then he should have been fired, or killed," Snape says, shaking his head as the man in question comes out of the fireplace. Dumbledore and Luna arrive a moment later, from the Floo and the door respectively.

"And why is the Lovegood girl here?" Snape wonders.

"Stormseeker asked me to come," Luna says absently.

"She knows, too?" Snape says incredulously. "How many people have you told?"

Dumbledore casts several spells over the office to ensure that we're not disturbed or overheard. "If Lexen trusts them, that is his business," Dumbledore says. "Although I do wish that he had consulted me before bringing Lockhart into this."

"I hadn't really been planning on it when I went to his office that day," I say.

"So, what, you just spilled it to him impulsively?" Snape says with a snort.

"I assure you all that I am quite capable of keeping a secret," Lockhart says. "And the Stormseeker made me swear my loyalty to him before he would tell me anything. I am not certain what he might have done had I refused."

"I imagine he would have killed you," Luna says brightly.

"I hope not," Dumbledore says. "I had a hard enough time finding someone willing to teach Defense at all."

"You could always hire me for it, you know," Snape says.

"Now, Severus, you know I need you teaching Potions," Dumbledore says.

I rub my temples. "At least there haven't been any attacks since sealing the house areas at night," I say. "But have we made any progress on finding the culprit? Any whatsoever?"

"None," Dumbledore says sadly. "I've had groups of teachers patrolling the halls at night, but thus far, no one has managed to spot anything out of the ordinary."

"The vampire may simply be laying in wait for the next opportunity to strike," Lockhart says.

"Vampire?" Snape repeats. "There's a basilisk on the loose, not a vampire!"

"A vampire Parselmouth, controlling the basilisk in between hiding away deep in the recesses of Hogwarts during the day," Lockhart says. "Perhaps hoping to drink the blood of the basilisk's victims. Easy prey."

"That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard," Snape says.

"You don't think Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are absurd?" Luna says, eyes lighting up.

Snape sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Much as I hate to say this, but I believe I would rather listen to whatever theories Lovegood has come up with, than Lockhart." Luna positively beams at this.

"Still, Lockhart's thought has some merit," I say. "The culprit may simply be laying low and waiting for things to die down after Colin's death. Waiting for us to let down our guard, or for the perfect opportunity to strike."

"It's possible," Snape reluctantly admits.

"There are plenty of places in this castle that someone could hide, I think," I say.

"No doubt," Dumbledore says. "Even I don't know everything about this castle. There are doubtless many rooms that even I don't know about."

"And they could simply be staying in the Chamber of Secrets, for that matter," I say. "Nobody knows where that might be, after all. And it'd be perfectly safe, since you'd need to be able to speak Parseltongue to get in."

"This is true," Snape says, scowling.

"So if we're to catch this person, it'll need to be when they come out to strike," I say. "And that would require putting someone at risk. If anyone should play bait, it should be me."

"You still have classes to be attending, Stormseeker," Snape says.

"I'll guzzle potions if I have to," I say. "I can take a short nap in the evening, and then wander around the hallways for a few hours at night and see if anything tries to attack me."

"Under normal circumstances, I would not give such a mad plan a second thought," Dumbledore says.

"I'm the one person who can do this without any real risk of dying, though," I say. "And it's not like I intend to try to fight the basilisk myself. I'll simply notify one of you if anything happens."

"You're not even a Muggleborn, Stormseeker," Snape says.

"I know," I say. "I'm a pureblood, so far as I know, and Harry Potter was a half-blood. But his mother was a Muggleborn, and somebody might still be upset about the whole defeating the Dark Lord as a baby thing, so I might just get targeted anyway."

Snape frowns deeply. "Perhaps."

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "I'll give my approval to this plan. I'll have Minerva slip you out of the common room after curfew each night."

"She would get suspicious of this quickly," Snape points out. "I'll do it myself."

"I could do it, also," Lockhart says.

"I'll do it myself," Snape repeats, gritting his teeth.

So, over the next couple weeks, I find myself patrolling the castle at night by myself. I find it a little amusingly ironic at this point that the Headmaster is now helping me to effectively break the rules. But it's all for a good cause, right?

I spend a few hours out each night, not always at the same time, but not long enough to keep me from missing enough sleep to be dead tired in classes the next day. And yet, aside from a couple unfortunate run-ins with Peeves, the nights are quiet. Nothing is happening. One might think that everything is perfectly safe again. But all that does is put me even more on edge. It's too quiet. The Heir of Slytherin hasn't just given up and gone home. I just know it.

But why haven't there been more attacks? Two attacks over the entire school year, and I was able to prevent one of those? Maybe the culprit isn't actually staying at the school at all, but just sneaking in now and then to start some trouble. I don't know. Or maybe something's going on that I haven't even thought of yet.

Frustrated, I head back to bed.