Sirius was torn between overwhelming and contradictory feelings as Harry left the room. There was the pack instinct as Padfoot that urged him to go after his pack's pup, then there was his own intrinsic disgust with all things Slytherin that stemmed from his childhood.
For the last month he'd been under the care of Healer, call me Paige, O'Shaunnessy,. He'd tried flirting with her at first, expecting his perennial charm with the ladies to win him his freedom and although she was older than him it wasn't a huge gap. At first she'd ignored it, then about week three she told him to get over himself because nothing would happen between them for several reasons, the two biggest being: he was her patient and he was too bloody immature. Sirius took personal affront at that assertion. He took exception to the whole assertion that he needed a mind healer at all. Paige was seeing to him getting his physical health back. She had him on a regimen of nutrient potions, healthy food, exercise(as if he were a muggle) and set bedtimes with mild sleeping potions as if he were a small child. But she also wanted him to take calming draughts and cheering potions, which Sirius refused. He denied he needed them, he was pissed that she denied what he wanted, which was firewhiskey. She had complained that he refused to cooperate during their therapy sessions. Most days they sat there not talking for the full two hours. He didn't need therapy, he'd kept himself sane in Azkaban. He needed freedom. He had connived his way into getting visitation rights with Harry. And then this happened.
"Bloody buggering fuck!" Sirius shouted. Then he headed to The Three Broomsticks, Rosie was always good for a cheer up.
The next day Sirius woke up and his head was pounding. He wasn't sure where he was and he couldn't remember how he got there. He was sure of one thing however and that was he had never been this sick, ever, not even after James bachelor party. He wasn't sure what woke him. Maybe it was a sense of impending doom or maybe it was the tapping noise he heard. He wasn't sure he was actually hearing or if it was the little men with hammers inside his head.
He looked up with bleary eyes to see red hair and stormy eyes. He knew that face.
Paige O'Shaunnesy could tell by looking at her patient he was hung over, but she had no sympathy at all for the man in front of her. A month ago she might have, but he had cured her of that with his stubborn refusal to do any work beyond the physical towards regaining his health. And now to have done this. She had given him permission to leave the clinic for the day and he was supposed to come back by sundown yesterday. She had worried when he didn't come back. Early this morning she had made floo calls until she found him. She knew from the smell of the room Rosemerta had stuck him in, Sirius had gotten drunk, but she would make him regret having made that decision.
She didn't temper her voice when she said, "So this is what you do, when I trust you! Then you wonder why the Wizengamot insisted that you get some help, following your long incarceration. What happened to visiting your godson and then coming back to the clinic like you were supposed to! Haul your arse out of that bed, Mr. Black. You and I are going back to my clinic, and you are going to abide by our set routine which means a mile run on the path."
Sirius cringed, between Paige's voice echoing and the thought of running on the path in the morning sun he felt sick.
"Haul arse, mister! You've already wasted two hours of my morning by making me track you down, and then there's the matter of the sleep I lost worrying over your sorry arse."
"Can I at least have a hangover potion?"
"Hell no! I believe today will come under the heading of living with the consequences of a bad decision. Something tells me you haven't had that lesson nearly enough, if you still do fool things like get drunk. After your run, we'll discuss how the visit with your godson went."
Sirius felt his stomach lurch twice once as he found his feet, and again as he thought about Bambi.
The Monday morning after the quidditch match, the lions' table seemed unusually upset. Harry was concerned because Neville hadn't showed for their morning workout. It was later in the library that Harry learned the Creevey boy was in the infirmary in the same state as Filch's cat. Harry got antsy and wondered what if anything the teachers were doing about the situation.
Hermione speculated. "I wonder if this has anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets."
"The what?" Harry asked.
"The Chamber of Secrets, I asked Binns about it following what happened with Mrs. Norris on Halloween. Legend had it Salazar Slytherin had a secret chamber someplace in Hogwarts where he stashed a monster. Salazar always wanted to be selective about students, he only wanted those from magical families. Given the superstitions of the time I can't blame him. Rumor had it only his heir would be able to open the chamber and unleash the horror within."
Harry and Neville's eyes met. Neville arched a curious eyebrow. Harry frowned but gave him a negative head shake. Neville nodded reassured.
"So the mystery is who is Slytherin heir? What are his or her goals?" Blaise asked.
"Shouldn't we leave this to the teachers?" asked Daphne.
"Daphne, think," said Tracey, "first attack, Mrs. Norris, Halloween. The teachers had a week. What have they done?"
"Nothing, at least, nothing we can see." Michael stated.
"I prefer to be proactive. The more heads trying to solve this, the sooner and safer we'll all be." Harry said. "So who could be Slytherin's heir? Next question is, what kind of creature? What we know is, it can petrify people and animals. Is there anything specific to Slytherin that might influence the type of creature? I know he's associated with snakes. Is there some magical ability out there we should be looking for that might allow him control? What else can we think of to help puzzle this out?"
Hermione pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, and the group brainstormed a list of questions.
Harry smiled as his friends- the best and brightest of his Hogwarts year- worked together to come up with questions that might help them solve the mystery of Slytherin's Heir and Monster. He grinned even bigger when Neville added to the question list, "If there is a magical ability allowing control of the creature, is there another person who has the ability, that would be willing to help us?"
Ernie MacMillian asked, "Has the chamber ever been open before?"
....
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