Harry Potter: The Gamer's Dimension Chapter 5

Hi all,

Here’s the next chapter. I’ve finally got this story underway. There may be some minor tweaks in the future, but nothing major. The Pokemon chapter will be out tomorrow, and the HP: The Artisan’s Path chapter will be posted early next week.

Chapter 5

Dumbledore marched through the corridors towards the infirmary, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what was going on in his castle. He wasn’t the type of person who enjoyed not knowing everything, especially when it came to one particular student. The only thing he knew was that Harry had rescued Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets, but everything else was a mystery.

Flitwick had rushed the students to the infirmary without asking them too many questions. While that was the proper thing to do in most cases, he wished he had some private time with Harry first to question him about what had happened. According to Flitwick, Harry appeared to be exhausted and didn’t have any serious injuries.

He had returned to the castle an hour earlier to find Fawkes flaming out of his office, clutching the Sorting Hat in his talons. McGonagall then walked into his office and informed him that two more students had vanished before he could understand the situation. It wasn’t the ideal return after countering Lucius Malfoy's schemes and regaining his position as headmaster.

Fawkes reappeared in his office, just as he was comforting the Weasley parents, but his companion refused to explain where he had disappeared to. Whatever had occurred, he knew Fawkes had been shaken because his usual cheerful demeanour had been noticeably absent. The last time he saw him this upset was when the previous headmaster died.

There was a common misconception that Fawkes was his familiar. He may have allowed the rumour to propagate because it served his purpose of portraying himself as the preeminent light wizard. Even though it was deceptive, it wasn’t a lie because he saw himself as such; however, perception was everything when you were considered the leader of the light, and he needed every advantage he could get in the Wizengamot to push his agenda.

Fawkes was bonded to Hogwarts and had served the school for well over a century. He didn’t stray far from the castle and wasn’t usually concerned by events occurring outside of it, with one sole exception. But he couldn’t imagine they had anything to do with the current situation.

“Are my babies really okay?” Molly asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"I saw them firsthand," Flitwick assured her. "They appeared shaken by their ordeal, but otherwise unharmed. Poppy will take good care of them.”

"I should not be surprised that Mr Potter is involved in this," Minerva said, her nostrils flaring. "That child has been causing me a lot of trouble ever since he first came to Hogwarts."

“I’m sure there was a good reason,” Dumbledore said, trying to placate her.

Although Minerva sounded annoyed, he knew she was worried about Harry. He was one of her favourites, even though she was supposed to treat all of her lions equally.

"I am going to have a talk with him about his antics," Minerva promised.

Dumbledore winced, feeling sorry for the boy. He had been lectured by Minerva before, and it wasn’t pleasant. Even his titles could not shield him from her ire; they had known each other for far too long to put on pretences with each other.

"Do you think he would listen to you?" Flitwick scoffed. "After everything, he has been through this year. We sat on our backsides and let the situation get out of control."

Flitwick's words caused Dumbledore and Minerva to fall silent. Because of the urgency of the situation, they had completely forgotten about Harry's mistreatment by the other students and their failure to intervene. They wouldn’t blame him if he was angry because they didn’t support him. After all, he went through a difficult time.

“What are you talking about?” Molly asked, looking to Dumbledore for answers. "Harry is a sweet boy. What did he do that deserved such treatment?”

"I would like to know that as well," Arthur said. "I first met him when he came to stay at the Burrow. What caused the other students to turn against him?”

“I will speak to you later,” Dumbledore sighed as they neared the infirmary. “It’s complicated and will take some time to explain.”

Molly and Arthur didn’t appear to be satisfied by his answer, but they were more concerned about their children at the moment. They charged into the infirmary, and Dumbledore followed them. Molly rushed over to Ginny and hugged her tightly as soon as she saw her sitting on the bed. Arthur gave Ron the same treatment, who was sitting by his sister's bed.

Dumbledore only had eyes for Harry, though. He walked over to the boy, who was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His shirt appeared to be about to fall off his frame due to its tattered appearance. What was especially interesting was that the boy didn’t look to have a scratch on him, which contradicted how shabby his clothes looked.

The Sorting Hat was placed on the table beside his bed, and a large sword, which Dumbledore recognised, was leaning against it. This cleared up one mystery. Fawkes must have given the hat to the boy who had retrieved the sword from within it. Truly, a Gryffindor indeed.

Harry turned his head to meet his gaze. Despite his reservations, Dumbledore decided to delve into the boy's mind to better understand the situation. To his surprise, he was met with occlumency shields that were far superior to anything he had seen before. No matter how deeply he probed, he couldn’t find a way through the impenetrable shields. They weren’t hostile, but straining against them for even a short time caused Dumbledore to develop a headache.

What was even more surprising was that Harry appeared completely unaware of Dumbledore's attempts at Legilimency, as his expression remained unchanged. What could be going on here? Could he be a Natural Occlumens? But how did Harry obtain this ability so suddenly? The boy had never shown to have it previously, as he had been an open book.

Dumbledore gave up his attempts and rubbed his temples to relieve the pain.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted him with a smile. He pulled out his wand and conjured himself a chair before sitting down. "I am relieved to see that you are unharmed."

Harry smiled. "It appears I used up a lifetime of the famous Potter luck today."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I don’t think that’s possible. It simply needs recharging. Can you tell me what happened?”

Minerva and Flitwick approached Harry's bedside, hoping to hear the story themselves.

Harry sighed with annoyance. He didn’t want to tell them, nor did he feel like they deserved an answer after the way they acted during the school year. But he knew he didn’t have a choice because the incident far was too serious to simply ignore. He would have to be careful how he described his encounter in the chamber because he couldn’t tell them he had been bitten by the Basilisk. How could he explain how he had miraculously recovered from a fatal wound?

Harry paused as a thought occurred to him. Fawkes had witnessed the incident, so perhaps it wasn’t the best idea. How best to explain it?

Dumbledore cleared his throat, so Harry began telling his story.

“Hermione figured out what was attacking the students before she was petrified,” Harry said. "When we came to visit her, I noticed a piece of paper clutched in her hand."

“What was this creature, Mr Potter?” Minerva asked.

“It was a Basilisk.”

That caught the professor's attention. Minerva clutched her hand to her chest, and Flitwick said something in a guttural language Harry didn’t recognise. Dumbledore appeared calm, but his eyes glinted behind his glasses.

"A Basilisk's gaze is lethal, Harry," Dumbledore informed him.

"I am well aware," Harry said, his lips twitching. "None of the victims looked directly at the Basilisk. If you go back and examine the scenes where they were petrified, you will find reasonable explanations for everything."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "It appears that we have been extremely fortunate to not lose any students. What happened then?”

Harry went on to explain how they discovered the chamber's location and convinced Lockhart to accompany them there. He described Lockhart's attempt to memory charm them, as well as the resulting explosion that led to the cave-in.

"Why didn’t you come and get one of the professors? A real professor," Minerva added, noting Harry's raised eyebrow. "You are a student. It’s not your responsibility to deal with such dangers."

"I don’t know," Harry replied, shrugging. "In retrospect, it appears to have been a very stupid decision. Maybe Ron confounded me. Or perhaps I didn’t trust the professors to get off their asses and do something.”

“Mr Potter!” Minerva exclaimed. "I should give you a detention for being so disrespectful."

Harry rolled his eyes. "As if I still respected any of you after the past year. If you believe that is a punishable offence, then so be it."

Minerva bristled, but Dumbledore placed a hand on her arm to calm her. "I understand how you feel, but you must also consider how the students perceived it at the time. Not only were you caught at the scene of the crime more than once, but you also attacked one of the victims before they were petrified. It didn’t matter how I spoke up for you; the students would not have listened."

Harry clenched his fists, his cheeks flushing with rage at how easily Dumbledore absolved himself of responsibility for the entire incident. It was the same story with his relatives. Even though Harry had told him about how his relatives treated him, the man completely dismissed his complaints. He only wanted to hear what he believed to be the truth; anything else was considered an exaggeration or a misunderstanding.

"That is a load of bull," Harry said after taking some breaths to calm down. "All it would have taken was for you to tell the students that I wasn’t responsible for the attacks. You knew I wasn’t powerful enough to petrify the students. Many of them would have believed you, and I wouldn’t have become a social pariah.”

Flitwick looked down at the floor, ashamed. "I have to agree with Mr Potter. We were so focused on finding the culprit that we missed what was happening right in front of us."

Harry continued. “Even if they believed I was responsible, that didn’t give them the right to harass me. Do you know how many school rules they violated but were never disciplined for? As far as I recall, students aren’t permitted to curse other students in the hallways."

“I wasn’t aware of such incidents,” Minerva said, looking uncertain for the first time. “Why didn’t you come to see me about it?”

Harry gave her a mocking look. "I did the first time, but you told me to keep my head down until things settled down. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning the second time it happened.”

"I apologise, Mr Potter," Minerva replied stiffly. "I should have taken your complaint more seriously."

Harry nodded. Although the apology didn’t make up for the abuse he had endured, it was nice to have an acknowledgement that he had been wronged.

“We will visit this issue at a later date,” Dumbledore assured him. “For now, can you tell me what happened in the chamber?"

Harry told them everything that happened up until he was bitten by the snake and how he destroyed the diary. From there, he said that he fell unconscious and woke up later, with the injury on his arm completely healed. It sounded far-fetched, but he didn’t know how else to explain it. He was wary of Fawkes, as he found the Phoenix's actions to be a little strange. He couldn’t trust him to not reveal what happened in the chamber.

“You were bitten by a Basilisk?” Dumbledore asked, alarmed. "Are you sure there are no wounds on you?"

McGonagall and Flitwick exchanged concerned looks.

"I examined him myself," Madam Pomfrey said, approaching the bed after hearing their conversation. "There is nothing wrong with Mr Potter. I don’t believe he has ever been in better shape since he first came to my infirmary.”

"Perhaps Fawkes healed you while you were unconscious," Dumbledore suggested.

Harry froze. “What do you mean?”

"Phoenix tears are one of the most powerful healing agents you will ever see," Dumbledore explained. "I’m sure it is potent enough to counter the Basilisk venom."

Harry was rendered speechless. He was well aware that Fawkes didn’t heal him, but why hadn’t the Phoenix tried in the first place? A shiver ran down his spine as an unbelievable thought crossed his mind. Did Fawkes want him dead, which is why he left the chamber when he did? It seemed completely out of character for such a noble creature. Did Fawkes harbor animosity towards him for some reason?

Madam Promfrey shook her head. "A bite with such potent venom would kill an adult in under a minute. I’m not sure how long it would take to kill someone of Harry's size, and even if Fawkes had healed him, the bite would leave a scar."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, who appeared pensive. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that the headmaster was disturbed by what Harry had just shared.

“What happened to the diary, Harry?” Dumbledore finally asked.

Harry gestured to the bedside table, and the headmaster picked the diary up to examine it.

"I cannot believe you killed a Basilisk, Mr Potter!" Flitwick exclaimed, bouncing on his feet with excitement. "Most adult wizards would be unable to replicate your achievement."

Harry shrugged. “I got lucky.”

"You are overly modest," Flitwick sighed.

"Professor Flitwick is correct," McGonagall stated. "Although I cannot reward you for such reckless behaviour, it’s still an incredible achievement. You saved Ginny Weasley's life, and possibly more with your actions.”

At that moment, Molly came over and engulfed Harry in a hug. He took it in his stride, even though it felt like he was slowly being squeezed to death.

“Thank you, Harry,” Molly said, letting him go. She wiped her eyes. “If it wasn’t for you, then Ginny would be dead.”

Arthur clasped Harry’s shoulder. “The Weasley family owes you a debt of honour. If there is anything you need, you just need to ask.”

Harry nodded, embarrassed at the attention. He wished everyone would leave so that he could rest. Madam Pomfrey seemed to read his mind as she started shooing the adults away from his bed.

Harry overheard Dumbledore mention that he needed to speak with Ginny about her role in the incident. He realised that Dumbledore still had the diary in his hand but had forgotten to take the Sorting Hat and the sword. The doors to the infirmary exploded open just as Madam Pomfrey was closing the curtains around his bed to give him some privacy. Percy, Fred, and George then entered the infirmary. Harry smiled as he heard the matron reprimand them for being too loud.

"Mr Potter, could you place me on your head? I would like to speak to you."

Harry cast a glance at the Sorting Hat. “It’s about time you said something. What would you like to talk about? I’m tired.”

“It will only take a moment,” the hat assured him.

Harry realised that the hat was another eyewitness to the events in the chamber. Feeling uneasy, Harry reached for the hat and placed it on his head.

“This is much better,” the hat said in his mind. “No one can overhear us talking this way. Just think about what you want to say, and I will hear it.”

“Can you still read my mind?” Harry asked. He figured it would be different now that he had the Occlumency skill.

“No. Those are some impressive shields. I’m not going to ask how you got them. At least we can still communicate, but you need to focus for me to hear you.”

“What do you want?”

“I am merely curious,” the hat said. "Do you realise how strange it looked when you started acting as if someone was speaking to you, even though no one else was around? Then you abruptly vanished from the chamber, as if you had apparated."

Harry frowned. Didn’t the hat notice the gate that appeared in the centre of the chamber? It made sense that no one else could see it, since only he should be able to enter the Gamer's Dimension.

The hat continued. "Then you reappear a moment later, with your arm completely healed. In all my years, I have never witnessed such a phenomenon.”

“I’m not going to tell you what’s going on.”

“That’s unfortunate. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. I won’t tell Dumbledore anything, either. He will undoubtedly ask me about what happened at some point.”

“Thank you.”

Harry removed the hat and placed it on the table. He lay down in bed and rolled onto his side. Despite the noise outside, he fell asleep almost immediately.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry took it easy for the next few days, hanging out with Ron and playing chess when he wasn’t in class. It wasn’t easy because the headmaster hadn’t bothered to explain the incident beyond stating that the perpetrator had been apprehended and that there would be no further attacks. That meant that the majority of the students believed he was still responsible for the attacks, even though he was walking around freely.

There were a few differences. The professors were doing their job and not letting anyone get away with harassing him. It was a good thing they did because he had had enough and was fully prepared to send some students to the infirmary to teach them a lesson. Another thing that had changed was that all of the Weasleys in the castle had publicly supported him after discovering that he was the one responsible for saving Ginny's life. Even though Fred and George had previously believed him, they didn’t go out of their way to show it. Percy had been undecided but was leaning towards thinking Harry was responsible for the attacks. Harry was upset with him, but the older boy did a lot of grovelling, so he let it go.

What bothered him was that Hermione was unlikely to recover anytime soon. They had to wait until the second batch of mandrakes matured, which wouldn’t be until July, which was two months away, and well into the summer holidays. Initially, the mandrakes would have been ready by now, but the Mandrakes had disappeared from the greenhouses. Harry had been furious when je learned this, as Hermione had already been petrified for long enough.

He had questioned Madam Pomfrey extensively, unsure if being petrified for so long wouldn’t have any negative consequences. He was sure that if Hermione could speak now, she would be more horrified about the fact that she was missing so many classes and homework. He took a lot of class notes for her, hoping that they would meet her standards.

What about her parents? Were they worried about her? Hermione sent letters to them every month, so they had to be questioning why they hadn’t heard anything from her. They didn’t have an owl of their own, so they couldn’t sen a letter, but eait until Hermione sent them one.

Ron attempted to distract him, but Harry was  becoming impatient. To deal with it, he had been experimenting with his ability. He had developed the habit of assessing everyone he met to compare their levels, including both students and professors.

He discovered that the students' levels ranged from one to forty-five, and they were usually based on how long they had been in attendance. There was no one above level forty that wasn’t in their seventh year, for example. There were a few outliers, where students scored higher or lower than the average for their year. Cedric Diggory, for example, was already at level thirty-eight, well ahead of his peers.

The professors were much stronger than the students. Dumbledore had far more power than the others, with a level well above a hundred. Professor Flitwick, Snape, and Mcgonagall were the next closest, in the level ninety range. Harry had no idea how long it would take him to compete with them, but it gave him something to work towards.

On the weekend, Harry found an abandoned classroom so he could perform some experiments with his ability. First of all, he opened his menu to examine his parameters, which was a feature that had transferred over to the real world.

============

Harry Potter

Age: 12

Level: 5

Experience: [0]

AP: 10

SP: 7

Resources

HP: 150/150  MP: 200/200

Attributes

Strength: 10

Vitality: 5

Dexterity: 10

Intelligence: 5

Willpower: 5

Magic: 5

Defence: 3 (13)

M. Defence 0 (10)

Titles

The Awakened

Soul Parasite

Snake Slayer

==============

When he downloaded the information about the Gamer's ability into his brain, he gained a better understanding of it’s capabilities, but he didn’t have time to fully comprehend everything due to time constraints.

According to what he understood, his body went through a factory reset when he acquired the ability. All of his attributes had been set to five, the average for his age. It bolstered his weaknesses while eliminating his strengths. For example, he immediately noticed that he had about half as much magic as before. It wasn’t so bad because his magic reserves were higher than average compared to his peers, and he could make up for what he had lost by levelling up some more.

It took him a while to notice that he had grown an inch since he returned from the chamber. He had first put it down to a growth spurt, but maybe it had to do with the fact that he added points to his Strength. He noticed he had gained some weight and no longer looked as scrawny as he had before. His appetite had also increased, and he was now eating approximately fifty percent more than he used to. He didn’t expect to grow at the same rate if he kept putting points into Strength, because there was an upper limit based on his body type and age.

So far, his attributes have only affected one major aspect, but this will increase with the increment of twenty-five that he reached with every attribute.

Strength was the simplest. It increased his physique and had a synergistic effect with Dexterity which improved his overall athletic ability.

Vitality increased his resistance to physical status effects, both in terms of frequency and duration. He had already experienced how bad it was to get paralysed, so perhaps he should consider spending some points sooner rather than later.

Dexterity had a minor impact on his overall speed and reflexes. He hadn’t noticed much of a difference since his return, but he had always been fairly quick, so perhaps he was back up to par.

Intelligence affected his memory recall. He didn’t see an immediate use for it in the dungeons, but it would improve his schoolwork. Perhaps he could ask James about it further.

Willpower increased his resistance to mental status effects. While he hadn’t come across any yet, he imagined they would be just as debilitating as the physical status effects.

Magic was the most important, as it increased the damage of a spell. If circumstances had been different, he probably would have improved this attribute first.

His defensive stats couldn’t be improved by spending AP. Instead, they were based on the equipment he was wearing. As he progressed, he needed to continue searching for new equipment as his opponents got stronger. When he wearing normal clothes, he only gets a small boost to defence. The numbers within the parentheses represented the strongest defensive equipment he had but wasn’t currently equipped.

Of course, attributes influence things other than his overall performance. They may affect the effectiveness of a skill, and some equipment, skills, and spells require attributes at a certain level to be acquired and used.

"I still don’t understand what the soul parasite means," Harry mused, his gaze drawn to the title section.

Titles were like bonus abilities that he could earn by completing a significant task, or they could be something he acquired automatically due to external influences. As the Deadly Poison title suggests, not all of them were positive. Fortunately, he was able to get rid of that title when he acquired the new arm.

The Awakened title granted him a ten percent experience bonus for the first three months. It may not seem like much, but every bit counts.

He earned the Snake Slayer title by defeating Typhoon. It granted him a twenty percent bonus damage increase against all serpents. If he ever ran the Snake Pit dungeon again, it would come in handy.

The final title, "Soul Parasite," was a complete mystery because it didn’t come with any description. But it didn’t sound like anything good. He hadn’t noticed any side effects yet, so he didn’t need to worry about it in the short term.

Harry closed his menu and started his first experiment. He raised his arm and unleashed a lightning bolt on one of the desks. The bolt struck the desk, leaving behind a prominent scorch mark and causing the desk to shift slightly across the floor.

"So the Gamer Gloves work fine here." Harry jotted down some notes in his notebook. "It’s an incredible ace up my sleeve if I ever get into danger in the Muggle world."

He didn’t believe the Ministry of Magic could detect wandless magic, so he wouldn’t get in trouble if he used it. He could use it to threaten the Dursleys, which put a smile on his face. He remembered last summer, when he was locked in his room with barely any food. It didn’t matter how many times he experienced it; feeling hungry was the worst feeling in the world. Worse than any physical pain that he had experienced.

However, with his inventory, he could stock up on food in case he ever got into that situation again. He had already confirmed that it worked in the real world. Perhaps he should ask Fred and George where they got all their extra food from and help himself to some of it.

The following experiment was to see how his resources performed in the real world. He pulled a knife from his pocket and rolled it up the sleeve of his right arm. He took a deep breath and set the blade against his arm, feeling his hand shake with nerves. Even though he was used to pain, he didn’t enjoy intentionally inflicting it on himself.

Harry hissed as the blade dug into his arm, but no cut appeared. An almost transparent shimmer ran down his arm as if something were coating his skin. On his HUD, he saw his HP decrease by a few digits. Was this how his HP functioned in reality? His body wouldn’t be harmed as long as he possessed HP, but he could still experience pain.

Harry frowned. "It is too early to tell."

Harry decided to try a more extreme experiment and raised the knife again, this time thrusting it down into his arm. He screamed as the knife dug deep into his arm, and he quickly pulled it out. He collapsed to the floor, muttering to himself as he called himself several unflattering names. After a minute of chastising himself, the pain slowly started to fade. Looking down at his arm, he noticed that it now had a fairly large hole in it, though it wasn’t bleeding heavily. This must be a result of the Regenerative Arm.

His idiocy had allowed him to reach a conclusion. If the damage to his body was severe enough, he would suffer real damage, and his HP might not be able to protect him, depending on where the damage was inflicted.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of running footsteps in the hallway outside the classroom. He drew down his sleeve and stood up, just as the door flew open.

“Mate, what are you doing here?” Ron asked.

Harry ignored his question. "How did you find me?”

Ron shrugged and walked into the classroom. "I asked the twins if they knew where you were and they pointed to this classroom."

Harry frowned. He was sure he hadn’t been followed, so how did the twins know he was in this classroom?

More running footsteps rang out, and Neville appeared in the doorway, holding his side and breathing heavily. "Ron, did you have to run so fast?"

“Sorry.” Ron grinned, not looking sorry at all.

“What is going on?” Harry asked.

"Mate, I had the best idea," Ron said, slapping him on the back. "I know you have been worrying about Hermione, so I decided to see what I could do about it. I have been talking to all of the students to see if anyone can help."

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

Ron pointed at Neville. "It turns out that the Longbottoms have some deep connections with other ingredient suppliers, so he found some mature mandrakes."

Harry blinked, his gaze shifting to Neville, who straightened.

"There are currently no mature mandrakes in Britain," Neville explained. "But that doesn’t apply to the rest of the world."

"Does this mean you found some?" Harry asked hopefully.

Neville nodded. "It cost me an arm and a leg, but I got enough to make restorative draughts for all the petrified students."

"You guys are amazing," Harry exclaimed, grinning. "I will repay you for the ingredients, Neville."

Neville dismissed it, claiming that it was "pocket change" for his family.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, thrusting his chest out. "Praise me some more. I did good, right?”

Harry shook his head, smiling. “Yeah, you did good.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It took Snape a few days to make the Mandrake Restorative Draught. On the day that they were ready, Harry rushed to the infirmary and sat down at Hermione’s bedside. He watched impatiently as Madam Pomfrey entered with the tray of potions in her hands. He wanted Hermione to receive the potion first, although he knew he was being unfair. The other petrified students had been affected for much longer than her.

Fortunately, Hermione was the second person to go after Colin Creevey. Madam Pomfrey vanished the draught directly into Hermione's stomach before moving on to her next patient.

Hermione's body twitched as it emerged from the petrified state. It took a full minute for Hermione’s eyes to open, and she appeared confused at first. Then her gaze met Harry's, and her lips curled into a smile, which mirrored his own.

"Hi, Hermione," Harry said, reaching up and snagging a lock of her hair before playing with it. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Hermione frowned at his impudence and moved to remove his hand from her hair. Her eyes widened as if she had suddenly realised something. “Harry, the creature attacking the students is a—”

“Basilisk,” Harry finished. "Ron and I found your note. The Basilisk has been taken care of.”

"That is a relief," Hermione said, then looked at him suspiciously, as if she sensed something was amiss. "Harry, you better not have had anything to do with killing the Basilisk."

Hermione was too perceptive for her own good. That or she knew him too well. Harry looked away, whistling. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Harry James Potter!” Hermione struggled to sit up in his bed, looking like she was about to lecture him.

Madam Pomfrey let out a piercing scream, catching their attention.

“This isn’t possible,” she cried. “Justin Finch-Fletchley is dead!”

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He didn’t know how the boy died, but given their history, he could well be the prime suspect.

So, what do you think? Harry can’t catch a break. Why would someone target Justin? Is it to frame Harry, or is there another reason?

Thanks for reading.