Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.
Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas Umar, Luq707, Yoshi89 and Fezzik for their work on this story.
Self-Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile.
In addition, you can follow the official ACI100 fanfiction account on Twitter ( ACI_100) by using the link on my profile to get even more out of my written works. You can do likewise to check out my official website.
Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's Equal
By ACI100
Year 2: The Looming of Shadows
Chapter 23: The Planting of Seeds
May 8, 1993
The Quidditch Pitch
10:22 AM
Harry soared through the sky high above the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, black hair fanning out behind him like a lion's mane. Being back on a broomstick, playing a game he genuinely loved, was heaven on earth after the metaphorical hell he'd been forced to endure whilst Tom Riddle terrorized the school wearing Ginny Weasley's skin.
Speaking of, Ginny had returned to Hogwarts about a week ago. She was quiet and mostly isolated. Harry had considered approaching her on a number of occasions, but Merlin knew he was useless with emotions and the absolute last person who should be doing anything of the sort. Ron had been justifiably concerned, and he had been shooting both Harry and his younger sister what the red-head evidently thought to be covert glances for the better part of the week.
As disturbing as Ginny's problems were, they weren't what dominated Harry's thoughts as he swerved suddenly, dodging a rogue bludger in the process and snatching the quaffle out of the air. He didn't hold onto it for long. Just long enough to advance Gryffindor up the pitch, pass it off and go back to looking for the golden snitch.
Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker, was exceptional at the position. Harry couldn't take him lightly, or the results would more than likely be disastrous. Cedric, as opposed to Harry, who frequently dove into the centre of chaos, stirring up the play and helping out his chasers, was a traditional seeker who rested firmly upon the foundations. His game wasn't flashy, but it was efficient. While Harry dove this way and that, being a menace at every available opportunity, Cedric sat back, circled high above, and waited for his opportunity.
Eventually, with the puffs trailing the lions by sixty points, that opportunity would present itself, as Cedric did indeed see the snitch before Harry. What followed was a death-defying race for the snitch where the two of them weaved through players, bludgers and goal posts until finally, after a thrilling, well-fought chase, Harry managed to outmaneuver Cedric, partially aided by his superior broom, cut him off and nab the snitch.
It felt so good to finally be the one in control. Harry could not help but let a euphoric grin spread across his face. This was what school and childhood were supposed to be. He knew it wouldn't last long, so he simply revelled in the feeling while he could, wondering when life would throw him his next, unexpected curveball.
May 12, 1993
The Gryffindor Common Room
7:43 PM
It was Wednesday night, and Harry was set to meet Daphne as normal. Over the year, he had gained a very strong foundation in Ancient Runes. So much so that he was currently looking into some basic wards to try on his own time. Tonight, they would be working on defence, in preparation for the fast-approaching end-of-year exams.
It was crazy to think the hectic year was finally coming to a close. There didn't seem to be any plots in place to kill him at the moment, and Harry had found the almost three months of respite to be somewhat disconcerting.
Of course, not everything was flowers and rainbows.
Ginny was still as sullen as ever, and there was the whole potential disaster of Sirius Black and his unjust trial. Augusta had been keeping him up to date with the goings-on revolving around that case, and rumours had begun to circulate through much of the Wizengamot about the case which was long thought to be cut and dry. Apparently, it had been Dumbledore who had started these rumours. At least, that was what Augusta thought. She had quietly encouraged them to those near her. According to her, Dumbledore was slowly trying to weaken the case against Black for the case to at least be re-examined. Augusta still wasn't optimistic, and she maintained her doubts that anything would turn up, but it was still at least a start.
Harry had very briefly toyed with the idea of asking Daphne to perhaps bring it up to her family, but then he realized exactly how terrible of an idea that would be. She would think he was off his rocker, and, more than likely, so would her family. He didn't really know their allegiances super well either. He knew they were neutral in the Wizengamot and had never been associated with Voldemort, but that was about the extent of his knowledge pertaining to the Greengrass family's political views.
Speaking of the Greengrass family, he was almost out the door of the common room, intent on not being late to that meeting when he noticed movement behind him. He realized, just as he was stepping out into the corridor that Ron was following him, hot on his heels.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Hey, mate. What's up?"
Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Can I talk to you?"
Harry frowned. "Um… now really isn't the best time. I'm on my way to something that I'd really rather not be late for. How important is it?"
"It's about Ginny."
Ah… that could potentially be a long conversation. The problematic thing about it was that Harry wasn't completely sure whether or not he should tell Ron. On one hand, it was his sister. He knew that she had been controlled by the Heir of Slytherin, but he didn't know the details or to what extent Tom Riddle's evil had stretched. Hell, none of them knew that. Perhaps Ginny's mind healers, the ones that Dumbledore himself had helped pay for, but even they had admitted it was a unique case. They'd never seen anything like it, and it was pretty much impossible to predict exactly how far Tom Riddle's influence had extended into Ginny's mind and possibly beyond. They were certain, at the very least, according to Dumbledore, that the experience would leave unnatural scars on Ginny's psyche.
Harry sighed. "That might not be a short conversation."
Ron frowned. "Where do you have to be? You're usually just practicing tonight, aren't you?"
'Oh, bollocks!'
That was the common excuse he gave whenever he slipped off to meet with Daphne. He was going to have to think on the fly and do it very quickly.
"I'm meeting McGonagall," he lied, hoping the firm grip he had on his emotions would prevent any obvious signs from showing on his face. Snape hadn't just been teaching him to defend his mind. He had been teaching him to master and modulate his emotions. They spent far less time discussing things than he and Dumbledore, so they had more time to work. Snape said that mastering his emotions was as important as defending his mind. It would help with the latter process, for one, and it had a nearly infinite number of implications in a variety of fields. Politics, battle, one's own self-esteem and mental health…
"About what?" Ron asked.
"I'm asking her about some extra credit stuff before the exam."
Ron scoffed. "The hell do you need extra credit for?"
Harry shrugged. "Never too much of a good thing, I guess."
Ron sighed, suddenly looking exhausted. "You know what's up with Ginny though."
Harry tensed. "I… no, not really."
"What?"
"I know what I think might be causing it, but I have no idea what exactly is bothering her. And me knowing doesn't really make me any better suited to help her. I have no idea how I would even approach it."
"Can you at least tell me?"
Harry paused. "If your sister wants you to know."
"Harry, listen-"
"No, Ron, you listen. Your sister has been through hell this year. If she wants to share it, that's her problem. If not, then that's her decision." Harry was pretty sure he could convince Ginny to let Ron in on what had happened if he so chose. More than anything, he wanted Dumbledore's input on the matter.
Ron sighed. "Fine, but work that out in a hurry, will you? I'm… I'm worried, Harry."
Harry had never seen Ron look at him so imploringly in all of his life. The vulnerability in his eyes was something else altogether. They had barely discussed the night everything had happened since it had occurred, let alone all of the occurrences leading up to it. Ron hadn't had it easy either. He'd been placed under the Imperius curse, tortured and impersonated all at different points during the ongoing schemes of Tom Riddle. Harry thought it was a show of a rather remarkable character that he was putting all of that aside and not even addressing it in favour of asking about his little sister.
"I will, Ron. I promise."
And he meant it.
Daphne wasn't overly pleased when Harry entered late, but she didn't kick up a massive fit, either. Probably because he would be playing instructor tonight, and she probably thought that annoying him wasn't in her best interests. That and the fact that Daphne was exceptionally good at reading people. She could tell that whatever had kept Harry, it was serious. It had put him into a rather dark, contemplative mood. It wasn't one she wanted to disrupt.
As the "lesson" progressed, his demeanour softened and became one Daphne was far more familiar with. Harry truly did love magic. It was a wonder what something as simple as discussing magic could do for his soul. By the time they had completed their study session, he had practically forgotten all about the troubling conversation with Ron before this meeting with Daphne.
Seeing that his mood had raised significantly, Daphne asked a tentative question, a question that had been bothering her for some time now. "Harry?"
"Daphne?"
"When did you start hanging around with Patil?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Parvati… hmm, November or December, maybe? I don't really remember. Sometime between our match against Slytherin and the Christmas break. Why?"
Daphne pursed her lips. "You don't find it odd how she suddenly started talking to you from out of the blue?"
Harry shrugged. "I never really thought much about it."
"Do you usually talk about anything specific?"
"Not really." Harry studied Daphne, realizing that she was looking rather serious. "What is this about, Daphne?"
"Can I be completely honest with you and have you not get upset with me?"
That was a particularly ominous question that Harry had not been expecting. "Um… sure, I guess."
"I think she's using you."
Harry blinked. "How? We haven't even talked about anything important."
"Not yet, maybe, but you haven't exactly been talking for long. If she was going to talk with you about anything important, she would want to make sure she knew she could trust you first. She would want to make sure that the friendship had strong foundations. That way, if you did get suspicious, she could backtrack with no issues."
Harry frowned. That seemed like a harshly clinical evaluation that he wasn't at all sure he agreed with. He and Parvati made mostly innocuous, scattered conversation when they did talk at all. It was rare they even spoke for more than a few minutes at a time.
"Is there any point to you that stands out?" Daphne asked him. "Any point where the relationship took an unnaturally large leap forward?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer in the negative but paused. Her Christmas present had been rather extravagant. He could remember thinking that at the time, it had been a bit of an overextension. But was an expensive Christmas present really enough to be suspicious of her motives?
"Daphne, I don't mean to offend you or anything, but are you sure you're not overthinking this? I know you said Slytherins pretty much live off of mind games, but not all of us do that."
Daphne's stare could have put a stop to a volcano in mid-eruption. "That's how politics work, Harry. The Patils are a very rich family in India that specialize in trade. If they wanted to establish roots in Britain, earning the favour of the Boy-Who-Lived would be a pretty good way of doing it. You do see that, don't you?"
He reluctantly nodded. He could see where she was coming from, even if he thought she was wrong. In his opinion, she was absolutely overthinking it. "I'll keep it in mind," he told her, but Daphne immediately knew such things weren't true.
When Harry left the classroom sometime later, Daphne followed, disillusioned via the enchantments on her family ring. Last time she'd done this, she had stumbled across Harry and Parvati chatting on the way back to the common room. After observing her friend during that last conversation, she knew that something more substantial was going to be needed.
And it appeared that she was in luck.
Once again, she stumbled across, who else, but Parvati Patil, striking up a conversation with Harry before, this time, they split in opposite directions. Without hesitating, Daphne followed Patil. She walked behind her for some time. Eventually, she followed Patil through what she thought may have been a set of wards and into an abandoned classroom. Thankfully, the wards in question were only geared towards privacy and not detection. Parvati wasn't alone in the room.
"Parvati," her Ravenclaw sister greeted her. "How'd it go?"
Parvati shrugged. "It was uneventful. We didn't really talk about much. Just the final Quidditch match coming up against you guys."
"Which you're going to lose, by the way."
Parvati scoffed. "No chance, we have Harry. He'll get the snitch before you guys even have a hundred points. Chang is good, but if he beat Diggory…"
Padma sighed. "Yes, you're probably right," she admitted. "But anyway, that's not what we're here for."
"What are we here for? Other than the obvious, I mean." Daphne's ears perked up. This was what she had come for, whatever was about to be said next. She could feel it. She had no doubts.
"Father wrote me this morning. He wanted a progress update on Potter."
Parvati sighed. "As I said, uneventful. We're friends, but not much more than that."
Padma bit her lip. "You know that won't do, Parvati. You need to do this by the end of the year. We need to be well established by the end of next year, which means we need our in ASAP!"
"It's not easy, Padma. I'm trying, but he doesn't trust people very easily and he doesn't really have free time. He's either with his friends or out of the common room doing Merlin only knows what."
There was a long beat of silence. "I know that, Parvati," Padma said consolingly. "The problem is, Father doesn't want to hear it. He's insistent you scoop up Potter by the end of the year. You need to speed things along, take risks if you have to."
Parvati sighed. "After exams," she promised. "I'll try and get closer to him until then, and after they're over, I'll make my move."
Padma nodded. "That should be acceptable."
Daphne had heard enough. She tuned out the babble of their conversation and waited for them to conclude and leave so she could follow them out the door. It had confirmed her worst fears.
The Patils were planning something. Something devious involving one of her best friends. Whatever it was, Daphne was going to put a stop to it.
May 14, 1993
The Room of Requirement
9:23 PM
Harry sidestepped a beam of red light, rolled under a white bolt and came back up to his feet. With a swish of his wand, a flock of ravens sailed from its tip, flying towards the ancient wizard standing before him. Dumbledore flicked his own wand and suddenly, the birds were not made of flesh and bone, but of pure fire. They soared back towards Harry and he paused, not entirely sure what to do except conjure water. Then, something else came to him.
"Ventus Maximus!"
A tornado leapt to his defence, quickly consuming the fire and spinning it round and round, causing a reddish blur to tint the twister that towered terrifyingly tall over the two figures below.
Dumbledore took the time to quirk an eyebrow, very obviously impressed. As Harry willed the tornado to surge towards the Headmaster, Dumbledore waved his wand, and suddenly, the tornado was encased in layers of solid rock. It began to rip through but every time it did, Dumbledore would reconjure what had been broken. The speed of his transfigurations and their solidity had Harry awed, especially because Dumbledore was fending off Harry's other attacks almost absentmindedly while keeping this up. Seconds later, Dumbledore had disarmed him, and the duel came to a close.
"You are improving greatly," Dumbledore complimented. "The rate at which you have learned and progressed through the conjuration of animate birds is very impressive. You very obviously have an innate talent for the art. Now, we simply need to increase your versatility."
Harry nodded eagerly. "What's next then, sir?"
Dumbledore scratched his beard thoughtfully. "An interesting question. I suppose arrows may be adequate. They are a step up in scale, but lesser so in complexity. I would like to begin you down the path of conjuring objects to weaponize or use as a defence. By the end of the year, I would like for you to be able to conjure a protective wall of stone. It is not a difficult conjuration. The difficult part is conjuring so much of it and having it meld seamlessly together."
"So what's the incantation for arrows, sir?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "I think we have done enough for tonight. The incantation is Sagita and the wand movement is an outwards sweep towards your opponent. We will eventually be looking to eliminate wand movements from your casting, but that will happen once you have a much more diverse arsenal to work with."
Harry nodded. "Sir, I was wondering if I could ask you something before we end this?"
"You can ask me anything, Harry."
"Ron asked me about Ginny the other day."
"Ah," Dumbledore mused with a slow nod and a deep sigh. "Yes, I suppose that is not unexpected. I assume then that you would like to ask whether or not I think answering his questions is wise?"
"Yes, sir. It's just… I never told him and Dean about the end of last year either. The only one that knows what actually happened is Neville. I'm worried that if I tell Ron this, he'll start asking questions about that."
"And precisely why does this worry you, Harry?"
"Sir?"
"What is so detrimental about Messrs Weasley and Thomas learning the events of your first year?"
Harry seriously had to ponder that question. "I… the information could spread. You said it yourself, didn't you? We can't let the public know that Voldemort is alive. We would lose too many advantages. If I tell them, it could leak." He paused, speaking next in a softer, quieter tone of voice. "That's why you had to memory charm Hermione."
Dumbledore suddenly looked ancient once more. "Miss Granger was a slightly different case than your friends. She is too clever and too curious. If her curiosity was to manifest itself into a full-blown investigation, it would cause a great deal of problems. Your friends are easier to predict, and they are close to you. Any information they do receive is information you will know about." Dumbledore paused, seeming to choose his next words very carefully. "Do you trust them, Harry?" Harry nodded. "Then why is it you worry so?"
"Well… they could let it slip, or something…"
"May I inform you of the true reason you have yet to tell them of your more closely guarded secrets?" Harry nodded once more, though he did so far more tentatively this time. He had no idea what Dumbledore was getting at. "You grew up isolated and alone, Harry. You grew up in an environment that harboured secrets. An environment in which you were safer to keep secrets. Beyond that, you never had anybody you felt as though you could trust until you met Neville and Augusta Longbottom the summer before you began attending Hogwarts. Those years leave scars, Harry. You are never going to trust as easily as I, or many others who trust less than me. It will never be natural, but sometimes it is necessary."
"Sir?"
"A war is coming, Harry. There is no reason to hide the truth from you, for you know it as surely as I. Lord Voldemort will one day return. I do not believe this to be a distant reality, but one far closer than either of us would like. No matter how prodigious you might be, no matter how ready you shall be when the time comes, it will not be enough on its own. The man does not make the army. It is the army that makes the man. You cannot fight a war alone, let alone win a war. It is those people closest to you who will hold you up and keep you safe and steady in times of great peril. But for that to happen, you need to build true bridges of unbreakable trust. To do so, you must open up.
"A relationship is give and take. I do not simply mean they give you friendship in exchange for help with magic. Relationships are built on intimate foundations. Foundations that will weaken if they are not continually updated."
"So you think I should tell them everything?"
"I think you should tell them about what happened down in the Chamber of Secrets. It is a good start." He paused. "Perhaps inform them of your suspicions about Sirius Black as well. It is not such a major secret by comparison to the survival of Lord Voldemort, and if Ronald plants that seed in his family's minds, it may not be a bad thing either. For now, you are more than welcome to keep secret the fact that Voldemort lives on. Just know that one day, preferably sooner than later, the time will come when that secret must be told, and that is not only okay, but it is a great and beautiful thing."
Harry nodded slowly. "I should talk to Ginny first," he thought aloud.
"You should indeed," Dumbledore agreed, gesturing for Harry to follow him out of the room. "Do check up on her as well, will you? What Tom did to her was both unique and unpleasant. I worry for her mental health and would appreciate it a great deal if you kept an eye on her. I am sure your friend Ronald would not be opposed either."
Harry nodded resolutely. "I will, sir. Don't worry."
May 15, 1993
The Gryffindor Common Room
7:43 AM
Harry had known for some time that Ginny was an early riser. She had been so at the Burrow, even before she had ever touched Tom Riddle's cursed diary. It was this surety that had him waiting in the common room the morning after his conversation with Dumbledore, ready for several long chats that day.
Sure enough, she was one of the first students to exit her dormitory. She looked awful. Her face was blank but her eyes were hollow and slightly red. She had evidently not slept well, and Harry thought she may have been crying not that long ago.
"Morning, Ginny."
She flinched horribly, whirling around as her hand twitched towards her wand. "Oh, Harry, don't do that! Merlin, I thought I was going to be attacked!"
"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly, eyeing her critically. "I was wondering if you wanted to come for a walk?"
Ginny seemed to hesitate before accepting with visible reluctance, following him out of the common room and down the corridor. Harry was taking a calculated risk here, but he was fairly sure it would pay off. The two of them exchanged almost no words at all until Harry came to a very familiar stretch of wall and summoned a door that hadn't been there moments earlier.
Ginny's eyes widened. "How did you do that?"
"You walk back and forth in front of this stretch of wall and think of whatever you want the room to be. Fair warning, it can't do food or living things at all, I don't think. And I doubt it works with somebody else inside, but I've never tried." Ginny just nodded quietly and followed him inside. The interior of the room was an exact replica of the Burrow's kitchen, for the most part. The differences were that there was more space and that the chairs were a fair bit more comfortable.
When the two of them took seats, Harry suddenly realized how woefully unprepared he was for this conversation. He was useless with emotions. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Then, he remembered that he had never thought such utter nonsense. He had always known this to be a terrible idea, but it was necessary, at least from a moral standpoint.
Damnit! Being a good person was hard sometimes.
"You're going to ask me how I am, aren't you?"
"I'm guessing you've got that a lot."
"Yes, I have."
"And what have you told them?"
"That I'm fine. The mind healers said as much."
"And what is the actual answer?"
"I… what?"
"Ginny, the mind healers have never seen anything like what happened to you because it never happened before this."
"But they still know their field," she argued. "Surely they would be able to make a decent guess?" Harry seemed to hesitate and Ginny's eyes narrowed. "What is it? I can tell you're hiding something. I can feel it."
That was scarily familiar. "What do you mean by 'feel it'?"
"I… it's hard to explain."
"As in, you feel a slight nudge in your mind? You can just tell? Sense it?" She nodded. "This isn't the first time this has happened either, is it?" She shook her head. He sighed. "Ginny, I have no idea how to prove this, and there's a chance I'm wrong, but I think there was a lot more going on with that diary than anyone except for maybe Dumbledore realized."
"W-what do you mean?"
He hesitated. "Do you know what the diary's actual plan was?"
She shivered. "I can remember a lot of things, Harry." Harry's heart almost broke at that statement. Her voice shook with regret and worry. "Not all of it, but some. I… can remember him in my head, guiding me through things. I can remember the first time he took over my body. I can remember all the time he made me spend in the Chamber of Secrets practicing the Imperius Curse. I can remember exactly what he was planning. He wanted to drain the life out of me and use it for himself."
"That's not mind magic, Ginny. Do you know what Occlumency and Legilimency are?" She nodded. Harry assumed that Riddle had forced her to learn at least the former, and the latter seemed close to what she described. He had wondered for some time whether or not he may have some natural aptitude for Legilimency because of a similar thing happening. Sometimes, he could tell if people were lying. Deductions slid into lace too easily in his mind, too. He knew Voldemort had a great affinity for the art, so if Ginny suddenly had this occurring after the teenage Dark Lord had roamed around in her mind for a year, he thought it likely true.
"I've studied both of them," he told her. "More Occlumency, but I have read about Legilimency. You can't do that with Legilimency. And a memory shouldn't be able to take over your body. Manipulate your mind with Legilimency, maybe. Take over your body? Gain a physical form?" He shook his head. "Again, I could be wrong, but I really don't think that's how it works."
Ginny shivered. "I know." It was barely more than a whisper. "It also doesn't make sense. I can remember the times he played around in my head. I can remember all the spells he taught me that way. But… I don't remember anything from when he actually took over my body. I don't remember much after the start of February at all."
Harry nodded. "You know what I'm saying then?"
She nodded and shivered once more. "You think it's more than mind magic. You think other things could be making it worse." He nodded stoically. "Do you know what they are?" Ginny asked him imploringly, looking up with wide, scared brown eyes.
Harry shook his head. "I have no idea," he admitted, and his heart broke once more as he saw the look of hope torn painfully from her eyes. "I'm going to find out though," he vowed. "I don't think Dumbledore wants me to know for whatever reason. He tells me pretty much everything, but he hasn't told me anything about this. Maybe it's dangerous, or maybe he just wants me to work it out on my own. I'm not sure. But I am going to figure it out. I'm going to help you."
Ginny looked baffled. "What if it's dangerous? If he doesn't want you to know, he must have a good reason. What if looking into it isn't a good idea?"
"I don't care. We'll cross that bridge when we get there."
"But… why? Why take the risk?"
Part of that answer was genuine curiosity and the need for knowledge. If it was something Voldemort was capable of, Harry had to know about it. It was just that simple. But there was far more to it than that.
"Because you need to figure it out. Obviously, the mind healers don't know about it, and Dumbledore isn't telling. I see what it's doing to you, Ginny. I never knew you well, but I knew you a bit before the diary got its claws into you. I know what you're like, and these last two weeks hasn't been it. You're too quiet, too drawn in. And I can see you're not sleeping." He paused. "I know how horrible nightmares can be. I know what brings mine on, and if you went through anything similar to that, you need to be helped."
"But… why would you want to help me?"
Harry frowned. "Er… what?"
"Why would you want to help me? It was my stupid idea to talk to the diary that almost got you-"
"It wasn't stupid." His voice was more forceful than Ginny had ever heard it. She actually flinched, falling silent at once. "Ginny, this is Voldemort we're talking about. Sixteen or not, he's the greatest Dark Lord to ever live. There's no way you could have known that. There's no way you could have predicted what happened. It's not your fault, and now you're suffering. You're my best friend's sister and it's not right." He smiled. "I also like to think we get along pretty well. Is it so wrong for me to want to help a friend?"
She looked completely incredulous, lost for words altogether. Harry gave her a few moments to compose herself before asking his next question. "Can I tell your brother what happened in the Chamber of Secrets? Dean too? I trust both of them. They won't tell anybody, but I understand if you don't want-"
"No," Ginny cut across him, fire in her eyes. "No, it's okay. You can tell them. I'm… I'm not afraid of them knowing." That was a blatant lie, but if Harry was diving head-first into danger on her behalf, it was the least she could do in return if he wanted to tell them.
Harry smiled. "Thank you, Ginny. You have no idea how important that answer might be."
Several hours later, back in the Room of Requirement…
To say that Ron and Dean had been gobsmacked by the details pertaining to the Chamber of Secrets would be like saying Dumbledore was decent at magic. What seemed to surprise them even more, at least in the case of Ron, were Harry's suspicions about Sirius Black. Ron, having been raised on the notion that he was one of the most evil wizards alive, took a fair bit of convincing before he would even hear Harry's story. By the time it had concluded, he still seemed skeptical, if slightly more believing. Dean seemed more open-minded about the whole thing, but an air of tension definitely clung to the youngest member of House Weasley.
Even the rat in his pocket gave a small, unnoticeable twitch as its tiny eyes widened.
Author's Endnote:
And there it is! The penultimate chapter of DLE's second year is now in the books, and I'm actually rather happy with it, even though it is very short.
I'm really sorry it's a week late, but this just wasn't happening last week. I tried over a dozen times to write this chapter but just couldn't do it. My mind is too focused on Ashes of Chaos nowadays, and it's rather hard getting in the mindset for this right after writing that. Thankfully, given some time, I can still enjoy writing this fic. Dumbledore in particular is a treat to write.
Unfortunately, as many times as I tried last week, I just wasn't happy with what was happening. It wasn't up to my normal standards, so I didn't want to post it. It's as simple as that. I would rather miss an update than post something I'm unhappy with. You all deserve the best chapters I can put out. Not some rushed, sloppy attempt due to a self-imposed obligation.
With that in mind, I am targeting October 11th as the release date for the year 2 finale. It may end up being October 18th, but I will do my best to try and get this to you in two weeks.
Please read and review.