Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

Lockhart doesn't show up again, so classes start up as usual the next day, and everyone pretends that everything is perfectly normal again. However, at breakfast, Solomon delivers the latest issue of the Daily Prophet, with Lockhart's picture plastered all over the front page. The headline reads: LOCKHART EXPOSES HOGWARTS CONSPIRACY. The author is one Rita Skeeter.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I mutter.

"What does it say?" Draco asks, leaning over to look.

"Dark secrets loom within the ancient halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," I read. "Blah, blah, blah. It goes on about how we're all spreading lies about him and trying to conceal the truth about his discovery of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What tosh," Draco says.

"Oh, there's a high point at the end though," I say, and read, "Gilderoy Lockhart is currently in St. Mungo's Wizarding Hospital after receiving a Lightning Curse through the post from an unknown source. He is in serious condition, and his prospects of recovery are uncertain at this time."

"Well done, Stormseeker," Draco says.

"Not too well, obviously," I say. "He's still alive. He might still make a full recovery. My spell wasn't strong enough."

"Better luck next time," Neville says.

"Don't worry, Stormseeker," Luna says. "The Quibbler will continue to print the truth, even if no one else is willing to acknowledge it."

We're still lacking a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and Dumbledore's trying to track one down on short notice. Until he manages to find one, we've gotten a rather unconventional substitute.

"Hello, everyone," says Myrtle brightly. "I'm going to be your substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor until further notice. I am completely unqualified for this job, seeing as not only am I dead, but I never even had a chance to take my OWLs. And yet I still think I'll be a better teacher than that complete buffoon who had the job before me."

"You go, Myrtle!" I say, applauding.

"I'm going to start off my first class by telling you all about basilisks," Myrtle says. "I was killed by one, after all, so I think that makes me something of an expert on them. And I hear that the aforementioned buffoon is weaving some incredible tales about his prowess. Let me tell you what really happened."

Myrtle makes sure that everyone in every year knows the real story of the Chamber of Secrets. And encourages the students to write home to their parents to warn them about the fraud who has gotten himself on the front of the Daily Prophet.

The next day at breakfast, Draco receives a letter by owl. He opens it up, and his face falls when he reads it.

"Something wrong, Draco?" I ask.

"It's from my father," Draco says, frowning deeply. "Here, look." He passes it over to me.

I frown as well as I look it over. Lucius is advising Draco not to believe Dumbledore's lies about the Chamber of Secrets. And some gushing about how Lockhart is such a skilled and intelligent pureblood who deserves appropriate recognition for discovering these secrets. "Shit," I mutter. "He must have been Obliviated. Damn that Lockhart."

"Mudblood bastard," Draco spits.

"I'm going to need to show him that memory, I think," I say, sighing.

"The Muggles have a saying," Dean says. "It never rains, but it pours."

"Sounds about right," Draco says. "This has been one hell of a week."

"It's a good thing it's Friday," Neville says. "But who knows what Dueling Club tomorrow might bring?"

On Saturday, the Dueling Club tournament is starting up. My first match is against Seamus.

"You will rue the day you dared to stand against Phoenix Army!" Seamus exclaims.

"Enough bantering," Snape barks. "Get up there and let's begin this duel."

I know I'm better than him, and I think that knowledge winds up making me careless and complacent.

"Diffindo!" casts Seamus.

The spell strikes me in the throat, and I collapse to the floor with blood gushing out of me. Snape is rushing up toward me, but, too slow, too late.

I wake in the Gryffindor dormitory. Ah, sudden, pointless deaths. Things are clearly back to normal around here. I go through my morning routine, and return to the Dueling Club.

"You will regret ever crossing Hippogriff Army!" Seamus declares.

Now I know they're just pulling these names out at random. We step on stage and face off. I'm more prepared and alert for the duel this time, and when Seamus casts his Severing Charm, I quickly move out of the way.

"Foul!" calls out Snape.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing, trying to kill me?" I snap.

"Five points from Gryffindor for using disallowed spells," Snape says. "Potter, do you wish to end the duel now and take a forfeit from Finnigan, or continue?"

"I'll continue," I say. "I can beat him no matter what spells he's using."

"Very well," Snape says, nodding. "Proceed."

I defeat Seamus handily after that, and return to sit with my friends to watch the next fight.

"Good job, Stormseeker," Neville says.

"Yeah, you really showed him," Draco says.

As it turns out, Lockhart winds up making a full recovery. Damn. I suppose I'll just have to keep trying to kill him. I start regularly sending curses through the mail, and some of the upper year Slytherins join in the game as well.

"You could send him poisoned sweets disguised as gifts from an admirer," Dean suggests.

"No poison," I state.

"Sending cursed letters is okay, but not poison?" Hermione says, raising an eyebrow.

"No poison," I repeat firmly.

"I don't see how mailing him curses is any better," Hermione points out.

"It's the principle of it," I say. "At least the curses are my own spells."

"And what about the letters being sent by the older Slytherins?" Hermione asks.

"That's entirely their business," I say. "I didn't ask them to do that, but I'm hardly going to tell them they shouldn't."

"I don't think sending curses through the post is going to work, at this rate," Draco says. "We will probably need to actually attack him head on sometime in order to end this."

"You're probably right," I say.

"I don't know if going so far as killing him is really necessary," Hermione says.

"He Obliviated me," Draco says. "Worse, he went after my family. It's personal. I won't forgive him for this."

And yet, weeks pass without sign of Lockhart dropping dead. After that first Lightning letter, none of our curses send him to the hospital again, and I doubt any of them even went off. At least Valentine's Day comes and goes without anyone really caring. None of Lockhart's ridiculous schemes to brighten up the day with pink hearts and bad poetry.

Then Easter holiday arrives. I'm really, really nervous about this. Lockhart is still on the loose, and I don't know what he plans to do. Neville and Hermione opt to stay at the castle, but I'm heading to Malfoy Manor to try to make amends with Lucius.

"So, what's this I hear about you trying to take credit for Lockhart's accomplishments?" Lucius asks me once we're back at his home.

"That's the first thing you have to say?" I reply, sighing.

"I'm very disappointed in you boys," Lucius says. "Lockhart is a skilled and capable pureblood. I don't care if you're actually a powerful adult wizard from the future. I won't tolerate this sort of nonsense from you. I want you both to drop it and stop spreading lies."

"Father, it's not like that," Draco says.

"Enough, Draco," Lucius says. "Run along. This is between Potter and I."

I look at him coldly. "So, I'm back to being 'Potter', am I?" I say.

"Father, we have indisputable physical proof that what he claims happened in the Chamber of Secrets is true!" Draco argues.

"Go to your room at once, Draco," Lucius snaps. Draco continues to grumble a little, but goes off as bidden.

"I can show you the memory, you know," I say.

Lucius shakes his head. "I won't believe any memories from you, Potter," Lucius says. "Those could be anything, from anywhere and any time."

"Myrtle witnessed the entire scene, as well," I say.

"I don't care for the word of a Mudblood ghost, either," Lucius says.

"And you won't accept even the possibility of being Obliviated?" I ask.

"Lockhart would never do such a thing," Lucius says.

"He's a Mudblood himself, you know," I say. "I told you that last summer, when we were getting school supplies."

"Nonsense," Lucius says. "I won't hear this slander any more from the likes of you."

"So, is this how it's going to be, then?" I say, narrowing my eyes at him. I think my heart is breaking, even as it had when I first saw the Weasleys being hostile toward me.

"You are still welcome in my home and as a friend of my family, if you will only drop the matter and publicly admit that you were lying about it," Lucius says. "I feel that I am being more than generous in allowing you this opportunity."

I shake my head. "I'm afraid not," I say. "That Mudblood fraud is working to systematically destroy my life, and I will not back down."

"Then begone from my home," Lucius says. "And I forbid you from associating with my son any longer."

"Father, please don't do this," Draco says from the doorway.

"I thought I told you to go to your room," Lucius snaps.

"You're making a terrible mistake!" Draco exclaims.

"Draco," I say. "You don't have to do this for my sake. I won't make you choose between your family and me."

"This isn't about family," Draco says. "It's about the truth! Father, Harry saved my life!"

"That's what he wants you to believe," Lucius says. "Isn't that awfully convenient for him, to concoct a story that leaves him with the Malfoy family owing him a life debt?"

Draco's eyes widen. "But... but... I saw the diary, in Dumbledore's office, destroyed exactly as he said it was..."

"What diary?" Lucius asks, narrowing his eyes.

"The Dark Lord's diary," Draco says.

Lucius casts a hard look at me. "You destroyed it?"

"Yes, sir," I reply.

"You destroyed an irreplaceable relic belonging to the Dark Lord?" Lucius says.

"It was threatening Draco's life, sir," I say.

"How convenient for you," Lucius says. "You clearly took it down to the Chamber of Secrets after Lockhart found it, in order to destroy it. I see what you're trying to do here, and I won't fall for it. Were you intending to use me from the start to strike at the Dark Lord?"

"I didn't even know you had it!" I retort.

"Like I'm going to believe that," Lucius says. "How far in advance did you plan this all? You knew exactly what you were doing, and you lied and manipulated my family to advance your own schemes. I'll stand for this no longer."

I take it back. This is worse than what happened with the Weasleys. With the Weasleys, I never had anything in this life. Here, I'm watching what I had crumbling before my eyes. Shattered into a thousand pieces. Irreparably broken.

Draco is staring at me as if uncertain what to believe. "Harry... is this true?" he asks quietly.

"Of course not," I reply. "I'm not Slytherin enough to have manipulated you."

"Enough of this," Lucius says. "Begone from my home. I will not hesitate to kill you if you should seek to harm my family again."

I stand staring at him for several long moments without speaking, carefully trying to keep my turbulent emotions in check. I am the eye of the storm.

"What about the Book of Truths?" I say. "I obviously must have stolen it from the Chamber of Secrets after Lockhart went down there in January, despite having given it to you before Christmas. I don't even know what sort of excuse you've come up with for that one."

"What are you talking about?" Lucius says. "Do you mean the Codex Veritatum? Much as I would like to read it, I never had it."

"It should be wherever you put it last," I say. "Unless Lockhart stole it from you, too, when he Obliviated you."

"I do not believe you," Lucius says. "If the Book of Truths should find its way into my hands, then I might be convinced of your sincerity. But I think you're trying to spin lies again for your own benefit. Leave. Now."

I sigh softly. It was worth a try. "Goodbye, Lucius," I say quietly. "I apologize for any trouble I have caused you and your family. Perhaps we will meet again under better circumstances in another life." I turn for the fireplace and drop in a pinch of Floo powder. "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!"

I tumble through the Floo and out into Dumbledore's office. He looks up from his work when I appear, and say, "Is there a problem, my boy?"

"The Malfoys have turned on me," I say.

"Not an unexpected development," Dumbledore says.

"It wasn't their fault," I say. "It was because of Lockhart. He Obliviated them."

"Regardless, I must now take care of the situation," Dumbledore says. "Do not worry about them further. I have prepared for this contingency."

I open my mouth to protest, but then think better of it and just sigh. "Yes, sir," I say.

"Now, run along to your common room," Dumbledore says. "It's late, and I have things to take care of, and I'm certain your friends will be interested in knowing that you'll be staying at Hogwarts for Easter after all."

I give a small nod and head for the Gryffindor common room, my heart low and my feet heavy. Hermione and Neville are sitting at a table, working on some homework, when I come in. They look up at me in surprise as I approach.

"I thought you were going to the Malfoys for Easter," Neville says.

"So did I," I say, plopping down in a chair next to them. "But that was an unmitigated disaster. Lockhart's actions have thoroughly turned them against me."

"But... they know your secrets!" Hermione says, eyes widening in horror.

"This could be really bad," Neville agrees.

"Dumbledore said he'd take care of it," I say. "I guess he'll have somebody Obliviate them."

"I suppose that'll keep the situation from getting any worse," Hermione says. "But what about Draco?"

"He... stood by me at first, but I think even he was ready to turn against me by the end," I say.

"That's terrible," Hermione says. "He was a good friend."

"Lockhart has a lot to pay for," Neville says darkly.

"What about the Codex Veritatum?" Hermione asks. "Didn't you leave that at Malfoy Manor over Christmas?"

"I don't know what happened to it," I say. "It might still be there somewhere. Or Lockhart might have taken it. I'm not sure that I even can bring myself to care at the moment. I know it's an important, priceless relic. But right now... I just want to hurt something." I pull out a piece of parchment from my bag. "I think I'll take it out with some fan mail for Lockhart."

I pour all of my rage, hatred, despair, and anger into a collection of curses. Contingency spells to trigger when Lockhart touches it, looks at it, reads it, is anywhere nearby. By the time I'm done with it, I'm thoroughly drained of both magical energy and negative emotions.

"That should do," I mutter, dropping it on the table.

"You look beat," Neville says.

"I'll cast the Concealment Charm on the curses and take it to the Owlery," Hermione offers. "You should get some rest."

"Thanks, Hermione," I murmur, and stumble upstairs. I'm so exhausted that I barely manage to change, and can't even get a Revulsion Curse up around my bed.

Sadly, Lockhart survives my latest cursed letter as well. At least one of the spells went off this time, however, prompting the Daily Prophet to mention an ongoing Auror investigation into the continued attempts on the life of the hero Lockhart. I hope they don't trace it back to Hermione or anyone else I care about. I don't care what happens to me, but I'd rather my friends not have to face the consequences for my own actions.

Easter holiday ends, and the students return to Hogwarts. On the first morning after they return, I habitually take a seat at the Slytherin table like usual without really thinking about it. Draco pointedly doesn't even look at me, and Gemma approaches my group.

"I think you guys should get back to your own table," Gemma tells me gently. "There's something of a schism in Slytherin at the moment, and I would rather not exacerbate it with the presence of outsiders. No offense."

"I understand," I say, reluctantly standing up and going over to the Gryffindor table. I'm followed by Neville, Hermione, Dean, Luna... and Theodore. When I glance aside at him, he just shrugs and gives me a crooked grin.

"Wow, you're actually eating at our table again?" Ron says as we take seats nearby. "I was starting to think you thought you were too good for us mere Gryffindors. But what's that Slytherin doing with you?"

"Eating breakfast," Theodore replies. "I've no interest in disrupting things here. I just don't want to be involved in all of the stupid politics going on at the Slytherin table at the moment."

"I can understand that," says a prefect girl. "You're perfectly welcome to eat here, as far as I'm concerned, if you don't cause any trouble."

"I won't," Theodore promises.

At the first Dueling Club session after Easter holiday, I see Draco on the opposite side of the room, sitting with Ron's group and avoiding mine.

"You have had a few victories," Ron says. "But you will soon fall to the growing might of Weasley's Army!"

"Weasley's Army?" Draco repeats. "Really? It's bad enough I have to join your group, but do you really need to call it that? Couldn't you go back to calling it Dragon Army or something?"

It appears that Crabbe and Goyle have gone along with him, albeit reluctantly. None of the other Slytherins have gone, and Storm Army has already recouped the losses with the gain of a few Hufflepuffs.

"It concerns me not at all what you call your little groups," Snape says. "Nor who is in which one. The tournament continues. Our first duel today will be Draco Malfoy versus Harry Potter."

"Blast it," Draco mutters. "You did that intentionally, didn't you?"

"I assure you, Malfoy, the fact that you and Potter coincidentally had a falling out over Easter did not affect my tournament schedules in the slightest," Snape says.

"Come on, Draco, let's get this over with," I say.

"I'm so going to kick your ass, Potter," Draco says.

"At least pay lip service to proper dueling form, boys," Snape says.

Draco and I face off against one another, and the duel begins. "Flipendo!" I cast, but Draco dodges.

"Serpensortia!" Draco shouts, and a large, black snake appears on the stage between us.

"Five points from Slytherin for unauthorized spell use," Snape says. "Continue?"

I just nod to Snape, and cast, "Fulgoris." Lightning shoots from my wand, and the snake is electrocuted. It twitches for a few moments before going limp.

With that out of the way, we exchange curses and counter-curses for several minutes, dodging and weaving, casting and blocking. I hate to admit that we seem to be about on an even level. We're perfectly matched. But I will not lose. Not to him, not to anyone.

Suddenly, I feel pain in my ankle, and glance down. The snake Draco summoned has its fangs sunk into my leg. My Lightning Curse didn't kill it after all? Damn it. I can already feel the venom coursing into my veins.

"Diffindo!" I cast, neatly severing the snake's head. That'll finish it this time. But I'm already feeling woozy from the poison. There's bezoars in my bag. I fumble around to try to dig one out while simultaneously blocking another curse from Draco. I grab one, pop it in my mouth, and swallow. My head immediately begins to clear.

"Professor, he's using outside materials!" Draco protests.

"You forfeited the right to object when you cast unauthorized spells," Snape says.

"Tarantallegra! Petrificus Totalus! Stupefy!" I cast in rapid succession. Draco dodges the first two, but can't get out of the way of the third one fast enough. He drops to the floor, unconscious.

"And the match goes to Potter," Snape says. "Rennervate." Draco wakes with a groan. "And don't you dare complain that that was unfair, Malfoy. Relashio. Episkey." The snake's severed head detaches itself from my leg, and the holes close up.

Draco growls softly. "Potter!" he calls over to me. "We may have been friends once. You may have tricked me and my family into listening to you and going along with your wishes. But we're enemies now, and I won't forgive you!"

"If that's the way you want it," I say with forced calm. "Then so be it."

Draco stalks over to the other side of the room to sit with Ron. It's kind of baffling to see them together like that. Am I really that polarizing of a person to make people team up with those they hate just to oppose me? I really wish things hadn't turned out the way they did. At least I still have Hermione and Neville, and Dean and Theodore.

"He almost acts like we were never really friends at all," Hermione murmurs as I go back to sit by them.

Leaning over to examine my leg to make sure it didn't leave any marks, I mutter, "I'm pretty sure that Dumbledore had the Malfoys' memories modified. Didn't want them still knowing about who I really am and where I'm from, with them having turned against me and all."

"Understandable," Theodore says. "Although unfortunate. The Malfoys were valuable allies."

"Indeed," I say.

"Maybe it's just as well," Neville says. "Maybe now, my gran won't go spare over the idea of us being friends."

"Personally, it's Draco joining up with Ron that really confuses me," I say. "Considering the Weasleys hated me in the first place because I was being friendly with the Malfoys. How do either of them manage to justify that?"

Dean says, "I don't think logic has much to do with it."

After two more fights, Snape calls, "The next duel will be Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley."

"Go, Neville!" I cheer as they walk up to the stage. "You can totally kick his ass!"

The two of them face off and exchange spells. Neville has come a long way, and although he's nowhere near the level of me and Draco, he's been doing surprisingly well, considering where he started at. He's been pushing himself hard, and it has paid off. Neville knocks Ron down with a Tripping Jinx, and then follows through with a quick Disarming Charm.

"Match goes to Longbottom," Snape says.

Ron grumbles, "I can't believe I lost to Neville of all people..." He wanders off to sulk.

"Hey, Weasley!" Draco calls. "You owe me a galleon!"