Author's Note: there's some bogus psychiatric dialogue and practise in this chapter (and maybe future chapters). We are going to pretend that it's right for a fictional magickal world :D

~~~(*)~(*)~~~

Neville held Trevor close to him as he entered his dorm room and sat on the side of his bed. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as he tried to calm down, he knew Harry had to be sleeping as his curtains were drawn around his bed and Neville didn't want to wake the other boy.

Looking down at his beloved pet, Neville's heart clenched in disappointment at what his dormmates had done; he didn't know who did it, but if he had to guess he'd say it had either been Ron or Seamus. Trevor now had two tiny horns protruding from the top of his head and Neville could tell that his pet was in distress.

Pulling his wand from his pocket, Neville muttered a 'Finite Incantatem' over Trevor, his heart began to race when it didn't work, but he tried it again and sighed in relief when he saw the horns shrinking back into Trevor's head.

"Mum, da-, um, I mean James..."

Neville looked up at Harry's bed in shock. Was Harry talking in his sleep? It didn't sound like it.

"I, um, I've never Toasted The Dead before and uh..."

Neville cleared his throat, but Harry kept talking, why?... Neville's eyes widened, his Finite Incatatem had cancelled the Quietening Spell Harry had around his bed.

"... in nineteen eighty-one on Halloween night -this night- you both died trying to protect me, and quite frankly I think you died for nothing, especially you James..."

Neville put Trevor in the glass habitat on his nightstand, biting his lip as he wondered if he should tell Harry that he could hear him. He was not going to think about what Harry was saying, it was obviously personal and wasn't meant to be heard by anyone. Neville had to tell him.

"... for a kid thinking he was yours. Well, I guess you know the truth now..."

Neville froze. Was Harry saying what it sounded like he was saying?

"... don't know why anyone else can't see the real me, but everyone says you were a good man; brave, smart and everyone admired you. So I guess it's not so bad to be called your son."

Neville heard a muffled sniff and guilt swamped him; if he told Harry that he could hear him now, Harry would know that he had been listening. So Neville returned to his bed and went to put up a Privacy Spell he'd learned from his Gran; not that she knew she'd taught him anything. The spell would have prevented sound from entering or escaping the barrier, but unfortunately, the others chose that moment to make their noisy way toward the room.

"... one day that I could make you proud of me, mum. That I could be worthy of you dying for me..."

Harry was still talking, obviously thinking that his Quietening Charm was still activated, and Neville began to worry; the others would hear Harry's words and might even start spreading rumours, especially that loud-mouthed Ron. The door was opening, and with no other choice, Neville pointed his wand toward Harry's bed.

"Silencio!"

The word was muttered loud enough for only Harry to hear and Neville felt apprehensive that the other boy might retaliate; however, Harry's bed curtains remained closed, relieved that he couldn't hear the other boy anymore, Neville casually pulled his bed curtains closed as the others loudly came into the room, and he tried to relax.

The irony of what he'd done hit him and tears came to his eyes.

Casting a spell on someone to protect them was completely different from casting a spell just to hurt or make fun of someone. Though it was still hard to forgive them for leaving him that night, unable to move or call out for help, Neville still had nightmares about it. Now here he was lying on his bed full of guilt for what he just did to Harry -the boy might not even know why Neville had done what he did unless Harry could now tell that his spell had been deactivated- this must be how they'd felt at the time. Then and there, Neville forgave Harry and especially Hermione for the Petrificus Totalus.

As for Ron...

"Oi, the spell wore off. We'll have to find something that'll last longer."

"Or you could just leave his pet alone, Ron," Dean said, his voice dripping with annoyance, "you wouldn't like anything like that happening to your rat, would you?"

"Right, as if Longbottom even has the juice to make Scabbers fur stand on end. Hey, Seamus, what about...?"

Neville heard a sigh and the ruffling of the sheets from the bed across the room from his.

"I'm going to bed," Dean said, clearly not interested in hearing any more of Ron's prattling, "g'night, Seamus."

Seamus absently replied and quickly returned to making plans with Ron, both mumbling and with muffled guffaws for long minutes.

As for Ron... Ron can suck it!

~~~(*)~(*)~~~

Harry strolled along the somewhat quiet corridors. It was Sunday and most of the students were taking the time to catch up on sleep or extra-curricular activities. Harry, however, was too nervous to really enjoy the peace. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed that his Quietening Charm had failed last night; he was a bit annoyed that he'd been overheard, but he was reasonably sure that what he said would never be repeated by Neville.

Earlier that morning, Harry had decided to have his first official session with Madame Frazier; it was scheduled to begin within the next half hour, and he was kind of looking forward to it. Harry never thought he'd ever feel this way about seeing a therapist, but the freedom of knowing that Madame Frazier would never repeat what he said to someone else -being under a magickal oath no less- it did a lot to ease his mind.

"There you are Harry, I've been looking for you."

"Hey, Luna. What's up?"

"Did you hear about the attack last night?"

A feeling of unease came over him and Harry shook his head.

"What attack? What happened?"

"Filch's cat, Mrs Norris, was found Petrified, and there was a note written on the wall next to her that said 'Enemies Of The Heir, Beware'. And now everyone is walking around with Wrackspurts circling their heads like ravenous little sand flies."

Harry blinked and shook that image from his mind as Luna skipped happily next to him.

"What does being Petrified mean?"

"It means that Mrs Norris has been turned to stone."

"You mean like the Petrificus Totalus spell?"

"Sort of, but it's easy to end a Petrificus Totalus; with being Petrified, a Mandrake Restorative Potion would have to be brewed. But what's really terrifying everyone, is the note. I'm guessing you've never heard of the Heir of Slytherin or the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry shook his head and linked his hand behind his back. As they walked, he listened intently as Luna told him about the Chamber Of Secrets, and the one person who could control Slytherin's monster within.

~~~(*)~(*)~~~

Madame Frazier's office was comfortable, almost muggle in its cosy library/sitting room design. Harry sat on a soft chocolate coloured sofa, across from the Consiliator; behind her was a four-foot-high bookcase that ran the length of the wall behind her, with candles and statues resting on top and on the wall above the bookcase were still paintings of strange and beautiful landscapes or cloudscapes.

"How have you been, Mr Potter?"

Harry twiddled his thumbs as he sat on the sofa across from Madame Frazier. Though he found it somewhat freeing to talk to her, Harry still felt uncomfortable sharing his feelings.

"I'm alright, and please just call me Harry."

"Alright, Harry, let's begin slowly. My position here at Hogwarts is relatively new as, not more than six years ago, the magickal community here in Britain didn't know anything about therapy, and their usual solution to mental trauma was to throw a potion at it. When that potion didn't work, the problem was either ignored or locked away in St Mungo's Permanent Residency Ward. My job here is simple in that I'm here to listen and guide, that's basically it; however, if the problem needs more than my listening skills, then I can go a step further with either a prescription of extra-curricular activities, meditation and even necessary potions. My last resort would be to send untreatable patients to a magickally operated muggle facility -also a new implementation- where muggle medicine is used during their stay."

"Huh, I didn't think witches and wizards would be comfortable going into the muggle world, much less using their medicine."

"Well, the LePince Facility is quite small at the moment, but we believe with proper knowledge -and this is where Consiliators like me come in- young witches and wizards will develop with a more open mindset than their predecessors.

"Now that we've got that short backstory out of the way," Madame Frazier chuckled at Harry's amused snort, "when we first spoke, one of the things you told me was that Mr Weasley had helped you with access to the school fund and that you have study sessions with him. How have they been?"

"They've been fun and helpful. I can write with a quill properly now, and my grades have improved. Professor McGonagall even made a comment on one of my essays, she says that my theoretical knowledge has improved; she even kept me back after class once and said that if my practicals were better I'd be third or second place behind Hermione."

"How did you feel when she told you?"

"It was unbelievable that I could be that close to Hermione's grades, but it felt good... I've haven't tried to do well at school work in a long time." Harry paused and blushed; he hadn't meant to say that. "Anyway, I realised that writing with a quill isn't the only thing I don't know about the wizarding world, and when I told Percy, he gave me a list of books on Wizarding Culture that I might find in the Fund."

"It's good of Mr Weasley to be so accommodating, not everyone realises how difficult it could be for muggle-borns. He doesn't show it but Percy's a lot like both his parents, wanting to foster those younger or somewhat lost, and very receptive to muggle-borns and muggle raised. If you've ever met his parents you'd understand what I mean."

"Yeah, Percy's really cool. He doesn't do pranks like Fred and George, but he can be hilarious sometimes; I think they try to rile him up because they can't outwit him in an argument."

"That's quite insightful and probably true," Madame Fraizer said with a slight smirk, "however, the reason I brought up Mr Weasley is to show you that he cares about you, a lot of people do. In fact, it's why I approached you so that we could have a conversation; quite a few people came to me very concerned about you."

Harry felt his face heat, "What?... Like who?... Percy?"

"Most of them asked me not to reveal their names, except for Mr Weasley, who wants what's best for you, but he knew he wouldn't be able to give you all the help you might need. I want you to know that the only thing he told me was that you seemed down and that your eating habits were worrying."

"Okay, and what did the others say?"

"Basically the same thing about your meagre meals, except for one person who noticed something more. Harry, I'm going to ask you some questions and I need you to hear me out and answer truthfully; if you don't want to answer, all you have to do is say so or shake your head. Would you be able to do that for me, Harry?"

His sense of comfort almost gone, Harry nodded as he sat stiffly. Madame Frazier tapped a notepad and a quill with her wand and both items hovered quietly next to her.

"Are you happy at home with your family?

Harry sat staring at his twiddling thumbs quietly for a few seconds before slowly shaking his head.

"Do you get enough to eat when you're home over the summer?"

Another shake of his head.

"Harry, has anyone of your family members ever hurt you?"

"Yes," Harry whispered, not looking at her.

"Did you ever have your full checkup that was supposed to be done by Madame Pomfrey, during the first week of your first year at Hogwarts?"

Harry frowned, "No, ma'am."

"Did Professor McGonagall ever summon you to her office for the full checkup?"

"No, ma'am."

"Okay." Madame Frazier deactivated the hovering quill and notepad and placed them on the table beside her. "Harry, like myself, Madame Pomfrey is under magickal oath to never reveal a patient's medical information without their explicit consent, or that of their parents or guardians. Your guardians would have been mailed a consent form along with your Hogwarts-"

"They wouldn't have replied to it then," Harry said, cutting her off, his voice hoarse.

"Well, I don't know why that was overlooked by your Head of House, but it has to be rectified. Will you be okay with me requesting Madame Pomfrey book an appointment for you in the Hospital Wing?"

Harry nodded slowly, "Madame Frazier, hypothetically, if Madame Pomfrey were to find something... odd, what would happen?"

"Well, if there are signs of abuse or negligence, Madame Pomfrey will inform the Headmaster of the necessity of the child's removal from the negative environment. The Headmaster will then inform-"

"No."

"I'm sorry, Harry. What do you mean by 'no'?"

"If I let Madame Pomfrey do the checkup, then whatever she finds is between me and her... and you, I guess."

"Harry, that's not how this works. If there are signs of physical abuse, then the Mediwitch is required to inform the proper authority. In this case, it's the Headmaster, who in turn will have a Healer come in to assess-"

"Then I don't agree to the checkup. You don't have my family's consent anyway and no matter what you do, no matter who you ask, I don't think you'll ever get it."

Dumbledore won't allow it. In fact, the Headmaster already knows, Harry thought to himself, and he still sent me back to those monsters, talking about Blood Wards and all that rubbish... note to self, look up Blood Wards.

"Harry..."

"Thanks for listening, Madame Frazier." Harry stood and went toward the door, but stopped before he opened it. "Can I still make an appointment for next Tuesday as usual?"

"Of course, Harry," the Consiliator said, disappointed at not getting him to agree to a full checkup, but relieved that Harry was still willing to speak with her, "even if you don't have an appointment, once I'm free and you need to talk, I'll be here."

With an absentminded smile, Harry left.

~~(*)~(*)~~

The chilly days of November flew by into a snowy December, and although the bone-deep chill was expected, the anxiety and fear that now accompanied it wasn't; terror invaded the walls and occupants of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

During the Quidditch match in the second week of November -Gryffindor versus Slytherin- Dobby had broken Harry's arm with a bludger and Lockhart had then foolishly vanished the shattered bones. He'd had to spend the night in the infirmary, which was how Harry witnessed the professors bringing in Colin Creevy, Petrified like Mrs Norris; their entrance interrupted Dobby, who'd visited Harry to warn him again about the danger at Hogwarts.

Harry placed aside the book he'd gotten from the Fund on wizard culture and glanced around at the few students -mostly Ravenclaws- that were up before breakfast and chose to study in the Great Hall like himself. Later on in the day, he knew that most of the other students would either hole up in their common rooms or even loiter outside the castle in the snow. Anywhere seemed better than wandering the corridors with a monster on the loose turning students to stone.

For the past month, a few of the older students from the Ancient Runes and Charms Clubs had gotten together to create and sell amulets and talismans that protected the wearer from various evil creatures. Unfortunately, some of the more unscrupulous students thought they'd make a quick sickle by transfiguring sticks and stones, trading the duds for money or completed essays, or other valuables from gullible students.

Harry unconsciously stroked the dragon's tooth on a thin leather cord around his neck, as his mind wandered. The two-inch-long tooth had tiny engravings of three joined spirals and other protection symbols along its length; the cord was long enough for the tooth to rest between his clavicles and he'd taken to rolling it between his fingers while he studied. Luna had given one to him and one to Percy -whose amulet was in the shape of a sword with the same markings- during a study session.

"Thanks, Luna," Percy had said, smiling, "but I think all those amulets and talismans being sold are fakes."

"I know," Luna replied, "that's why I made these myself."

The sound of parchment jostling interrupted his wandering thoughts and Harry glanced at his watch; he still had an hour and a half before Quidditch practice and began to fill a plate with breakfast.

"Morning, Harry."

"Hey, Dean. Good morning. You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," Dean mumbled as he sat a seat away from Harry and filled his own plate.

Finally able to eat something more substantial than porridge and soup, Harry returned his attention to his breakfast and bit into a strip of bacon, savouring it.

Within fifteen minutes the hall was buzzing with the chatter of students having their breakfast and prattling about rumours of a new Duelling Club.

"Are the rumours true, Percy? Are they going to reform a Duelling Club?" Someone asked further down the Gryffindor table and Harry's eyes followed the voice to Hermione, and next to her... Neville; both awaiting Percy's answer.

Looking away, Harry sipped thoughtfully on his pumpkin juice. Ever since the night of his Salutant Mortis ritual, Harry had noticed that Hermione and Neville had started hanging out again.

Guess casting a Silencio on me when I wasn't expecting it gave him some perspective.

Harry wasn't angry about Neville's actions, in fact, he was grateful. It would have brought more chaos to his life if Ron or Seamus had heard his toast to his parents. However, he was a little miffed that Neville could so easily forgive the person who cast the spell... yet...

Harry sighed and selected an apple to munch on later. Growing angry at the situation was tiring and... just foolish. He had chosen to stay away just as Neville had asked; forcing someone to be a friend never ended well for the needy party. Harry was relieved that at least Neville and Hermione had each other... and although Luna was a first-year, she was becoming a good friend to him.

Just then, Professor Lockhart stood from the head table calling for everyone's attention as he swaggered to the front of the platform.

"I guess we're about to find out whether the rumours are true or not," Dean murmured to him. Harry nodded politely as he haunched his shoulders and glared down at the table in front of him. Ever since his rude outburst, Lockhart had steered clear of Harry and only occasionally called on him in class, but he still wasn't going to give the man an opening to flaunt him in any way.

"My dear students, I'm sure you've all heard the rumours..."

~~(*)~(*)~~

"It's called Parseltongue."

Harry huffed an exasperated breath, but he didn't look away from the calming waters of the Black Lake far below, his chin propped on arms folded across his knees, as Luna sat facing him on the broad window sill. This was a rarely traversed part of the castle that Luna had shown him; Harry wasn't surprised that she'd found him.

"Let me guess. I can talk to snakes and no one else can understand when I do." He had been wondering why everyone gathered for the Duelling Club in the Great Hall had been looking at him as if he was a... hmph, a freak after Malfoy conjured a snake to attack him.

"Why do these things always happen to me?" he grumbled, ignoring Luna's chatter about Hagrid cooking good chicken soup.

"Maybe you're just lucky," she said, playing with her necklace

"Yeah, with bad luck!"

"Luck can't always be good, therefore it can't always be bad."

"Mmm." Harry knew he was being a grumpy git and that later on, he'd be grateful for the insight, but at the moment he didn't want insightful advice. He just wanted ... he didn't know what he wanted.

"I wish I'd had the ability to talk to my pet snake."

"You have a pet snake?" Harry turned to her wide-eyed.

"Had." Luna looked away from the water as well, and the sadness in her silvery gaze erased his anger. "He died in the explosion that killed my mother."

His breath caught in his throat. Unsure if his touch would be welcomed, Harry tentatively reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, leaving their joined hands to rest in the space between them.

"Mum liked to experiment with Charms. It was a horrible accident."

"I'm sorry, Luna."

Suddenly, her sadness was replaced by her usual dreamy expression, and Luna returned her gaze to the dark waters of the Black Lake.

"It's okay now. Plus, your ability has given me an idea for my Charms extra credit project and maybe Potions." Luna gently pulled her hand from his, giving it a pat. "See, good luck."

Harry chuckled and didn't mention the obvious.

"Yeah, there's nothing like hearing something... again... that... no one. Else... can. Merlin's beard!"

"More good luck, Harry?" Luna murmured, looking up at the star-filled sky.

"It's a snake!"

~~(*)~(*)~~

Harry told Percy of his suspicion the next morning and in turn, the Prefect informed their Head Of House. Once she had all significant details from Harry, and knowing that he was a Parselmouth, Professor McGonagall took the matter to the Headmaster.

It didn't take long after that for the staff to figure out that Slytherin's monster was a basilisk. After informing the school Governors, the Headmaster announced that all students would return to their homes the very next day; two days away from the end of term but the Headmaster deemed it necessary.

Professor McGonagall informed her Gryffindors, congregated in their Common Room, that the beginning of the school term in January will not change and that their parents would be informed of any delays if the basilisk was not found.

"How do they hope to find the basilisk, Professor?"

"We will be leaving that up to the professionals at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry, Miss Granger. Now, everyone should be packed and ready to leave by 8 am tomorrow morning."

Unfortunately, the early start of the Christmas holidays wasn't soon enough for Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick who were both petrified that very same afternoon.

Harry was just grateful that he only had to endure the suspicious glares and taunts of being the Heir of Slytherin for only a few hours until he was seated in an empty compartment -but for himself and Luna- on the Hogwarts Express the next morning.

His welcome back at the Dursleys' wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting. Aunt Petunia handed him a list of chores that were recyclable until he left for Hogwarts in January, and his Uncle threatened to belt him if he stepped a toe out of line. Harry could see the man's disappointment at Petunia's fussing that she wanted the boy to be able to do his chores so that she could focus on her shopping for her Diddykins.

Harry's trunk, including his wand, was locked in his old cupboard and -hiding his relief that he wasn't immediately going to get a beating- Harry glanced at the first chore on the list before heading off to do it. Maybe if he got through the first cycle of chores quickly, he could get away with minor upkeep on his repeat rounds for the rest of the holiday.