So this is a day late. I blame school. At least it isn't like a week late, though. Anyways, I love this chapter.
Chapter 4: Deathday Parties and Parselmouths
Over the next few days there had been Quidditch try outs, Bella became the reserve Seeker -a much needed one- and Ron became the reserve Keeper, and Lockhart seemed to grow more obnoxious, Elliot tried to resin with Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall about getting him sacked but nine of then would comply, though both Snape and McGonagall had agreed that he should be, especially after hearing Elliot's extraordinarily detailed retelling of the first class, though there obvious agreements only went so far as a sniff and a sniff from Snape and a shake of the head and a sigh from McGonagall.
At breakfast, an owl dropped a note of Elliot's eggs and she moodily unfolded it, read it over, groaned, sighed, looked up from the letter with an irritated glare and said, "We need to go to Hagrid's."
"Why?" Maddy asked.
"Dunno," Elliot shrugged. "Apparently it's urgent. Harry, Ron, Bella and Hermione are there." Maddy sighed and the two stood, making their way to the gamekeeper's hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Fang was barking loudly and Elliot didn't have the common decency and sense of not offending people most people had so, instead of knocking, she slammed the door open, pulled Maddy in and closed the door.
"What happened?" The very rude Slytherin asked, agitated and in a mood due to tiredness and just general 'waking up on the wrong side of the bed' stuff. Her question was soon answered by Ron leaning over and hurling in a bucket.
"Oh disgusting," Maddy groaned. "Why'd you call us here?"
"Really, we can't help," Elliot shook her head. "Also it's just gross. Bet you just called us here to see us get very uncomfortable."
"You try throwing up slugs and see how you like it," Ron muttered sourly.
"Slugs?" Maddy asked. "I don't know if that's better or worse than regular sick."
"I'm going to go with worse," Harry winced as Ron hurled again.
"What happened?"
"Malfoy called Hermione a 'mudblood,'" Hagrid said darkly. Elliot's jaw clenched and get hand baked up into tight fists, Maddy wasn't exactly sure what a 'mudblood' was but she could figure it out quite easily going off of Elliot's reaction, who had said it and who it had been said to. She came to the conclusion that it was a horribly derogatory term for someone who was muggle born.
"And Ron tried to use his broken wand to hex him," Bella said. "It would've been great to see Malfoy getting sick with slugs, but alas. I did manage to push him into the line of fire though."
"Oh, so that's what that commotion was," Maddy nodded. "Malfoy was really mad about that."
"He woke me up with his storming around," Elliot grumbled.
"Oh, I've got something to show you," Hagrid said suddenly, and lead them out to his yard, where twelve, giant pumpkins were growing. "It's for the Halloween Feast."
"Hagrid," Maddy started. "Can I live in one of those pumpkins?"
"I want to become James and the Giant Peach but with pumpkins, suddenly," Bella said.
"What have you been feeding them?" Harry asked.
"Well... I've been giving them a bit of... help," Hagrid replied more than a little awkwardly, nudging his pink umbrella.
"You've done a good job on then," Hermione said. "The engorgement charm, right?" Hagrid nodded.
"I really don't know why but standing beside really big pumpkins just makes me want to live in a gourd!" Bella exclaimed.
"Me too, Bella," Maddy nodded.
At around lunch time Ron had stopped throwing up slugs so they made their way back up to the castle, they were stopped by Professor McGonagall just outside of the Great Hall.
"There you are, Potter, Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."
"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously.
"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley, elbow grease." Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.
"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall.
"Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Harry desperately.
"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you." Elliot began laughing but stopped when McGonagall snapped, "Miss de la Mare, Professor Snape has informed me to tell you that you are to serve detention as well."
"Oh, but why?" Elliot asked.
"Because Professor Snape and I find your behaviour with professor Lockhart to be unacceptable."
"But you both agreed with me!"
"While Professor Lockhart may be a poor teacher that doesn't mean you can disrespect him. You'll be meeting him at eight to help with lesson plans since you seem to think you know so much."
"Alright," Elliot sighed. When McGonagall was out of earshot and Harry and Ron were complaining about their detentions she said, "I suppose I'm lucky, I'm technically on an O.W.L. level for Defence."
"Why? How?" Bella asked.
"Pureblood family. Big library."
At a bit past eight, Elliot arrived at Lockhart's door, she pushed it open without knocking and saw Lockhart and Harry sitting behind a desk with a large pile of cards, envelopes and letters. Lockhart had been grinning and incessantly talking about one of the fan mail senders, Harry was grimacing and had an expression like he'd was sucking on a lemon but wasn't allowed to purse his lips. That was distress, right? Perhaps despair? Either way it didn't matter, it was something negative either way and she was sure it was impossible to feel any other type of emotion around the oblivious, blithering idiot of a professor unless you were completely deluded. Somehow, Hermione had succeeded at this, along with many other girls who, for some reason, fancied this man. It was a little sickening.
"Ah, Miss de la Mare," Lockhart said in a tone Elliot believed to be cheerful but it was quite plainly a fake cheerfulness, she was sure he couldn't like her after the moment in class, it'd probably been Snape or McGonagall's idea for this detention. Lockhart showed her his lessons plans and told her what to do, she sat down and began revising everything he'd written. Elliot was fairly certain that this might have been organized both because whoever did choose this knee she'd dislike it for the simple boringness of it and because they actually wanted the students to learn something.
She finished rather quickly, then was told to revise the first years lessons, then she went on to the third years, the fourth years and finally the fifth years, she even looked over the N.E.W.T. level courses to make sure he hadn't made any simple mistakes. He had. For once she was kind of glad that Quirrell had been such a horrible teacher, she'd thought that there'd never be a competent Defence teacher so she'd begun to spend all her time working on that over the summer
While Elliot was working on the fifth years lessons and Lockhart was blathering on about some book she heard an odd voice. It was cold, filled with venom, it sent chills down her spine.
"Come… come to me… Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you…"
Hmm... Parseltongue. Some snake was apparently planning on killing something.
"What?" Harry suddenly asked, interrupting Lockhart. He seemed startled, alarmed maybe even a little scared? Elliot couldn't say, emotions weren't her thing. She didn't really understand them for the most part unless she was feeling them at the moment or it was a familiar emotion. She supposed that was why Maddy had so lovingly called her a sociopath, even if it wasn't correct. She felt emotions she just didn't recognize or understand them.
"I know. Six months at bestseller!" Lockhart exclaimed energetically. "Broke all records!"
"No," Harry shook his head. "That voice." Was Harry a parselmouth too?
"Sorry? What voice?"
"That-that voice."
"Perhaps its just Miss de la Mare, Miss Granger did say she enjoys messing with people!"
"Oh yes, I just managed to speak at the right volume for Harry to hear everything clearly while you could hear nothing," Elliot rolled her eyes.
Lockhart soon dismissed them because they heard the voice again, and Harry stupidly brought it up again. Really it was no wonder that boy wasn't in Ravenclaw, it was, however, a wonder that Lockhart had been when he was in school.
"You-you heard that voice too, right?" Harry asked as they walked down the hall from the Defence room.
"Yes," Elliot nodded. "You shouldn't have brought it up, people don't take too kindly to parselmouths after You-Know-Who."
"Parsel- wait what?" He asked, utterly confused.
"Snake language, Harry, you can understand and talk to snakes, it's normally only in the line of people related to Salazar Slytherin, which I am, but the reason I don't normally tell people is because it's a dark magic, which means it illegal."
"Illegal?" Harry asked, bewildered.
"Yes, they don't really enforce it when it comes to parselmouths because it isn't something someone chooses but it can still have bad consequences, people'll start thinking your the next You-Know-Who or something because he was the last open parselmouth. Don't tell anyone about it and if you put yourself out, don't you dare out me. Night, Harry," she waved and walked of towards the dungeons, fairly certain Harry was just a bit scared and more than a little confused.
Upon reaching the entrance to the Slytherin common room Elliot slid down to a sitting position, well aware that she was most likely going to be waiting all night. She didn't mind though. She may have been emotionally stunted -or whatever it was that she was- but that didn't hinder her view that everyone deserves equality unless they actually did something to get less than the others. She has to fight the urge to punch the portrait of Elizabeth Burke, telling her to be 'nasty to mudbloods' and judging her for not just saying the password as Elliot slowly drifted away into sleep.
October rolled around accompanied with a damp chill. Meaning illnesses. Maddy hated sickness. It made her nervous, she never wanted to be sick, it was uncomfortable and gross and all around horrible.
Three days into the month, Maddy first knew something was wrong when she woke up on her own, dormitory completely empty and not a sound being made that could wake her up. The next hint was when she suddenly felt incredibly nauseous, she decided, no, she would not move that day, she would stay in her bed and sleep off this illness. Illnesses were going around and though she knew it would be easier to just go get some Pepperup potion from Madam Pomfrey she really didn't feel like it. Maybe she could just get a bit of ambrosia or nectar from her bag? That sounded like a good plan.
She told herself to move but she didn't, she just resolved to go back to sleep.
The next time he woke up she thought there wasn't a reason at first, but then she felt something steadily thumping against her bed and some boredly drawling out the word 'up' at an honestly unnecessarily slow rate.
"Finally," Elliot sighed. "I refuse to deal with Lockhart alone. I need you to help me mess with him."
"I'm sick," Maddy muttered.
"I figure that out, get a Pepperup potion and go to at least Defence otherwise someone might die. Probably Lockhart, and as amazing as that would be, I'd be in Azkaban and that would suck." Maddy was much too tired and ill feeling to wonder what Azkaban was, then she was suddenly standing. How had she gotten to her feet? Had Elliot pulled her up? Whatever, she sighed and began walking towards the hospital wing, feeling even worse and a bit like she's lost a war even if she had barely even tried to do anything to stay in her bed.
The minute she walked into the hospital wing Madam Pomfrey had shoved a bottle of pepperup potion into Maddy's hands and telling her to drink up. Her ears began smoking once she finished the bottle, she'd forgotten about that nifty little side effect that would last for hours. She should have just had a little bit of ambrosia and been done with it. Then again, she wasn't sure if ambrosia could be used in that way as a child of Apollo has always been there to heal her. Oh well, too late now.
She really didn't want to go to class and, thankfully, Madam Pomfrey made her stay until she felt better even if she 'didn't have a fever' by most people's standards. Which meant she had a fever. Hooray for having a naturally obscenely low body temperature. She hoped Madam Pomfrey didn't check up on her temperature at all, that'd be hard to explain.
When Maddy left the hospital wing several hours and no arguments involving her normal body temperature later she was feeling quite a lot better, and she'd avoided classes for the day, that worked out well. As she trekked through the castle to the Great Hall she was stopped by the Gryffindor house ghost, Nearly Headless Nick. He looked excited about something.
"Ah, Madeline!" He said gleefully. "Just the person I wanted to see."
"Oh?" Maddy asked.
"Yes, in light of my upcoming deathday and the growing likelihood that I will be accepted into the Headless Hunt, I would like to invite you to my deathday party."
"I'd love to go," Maddy smiled, truthfully, she always wanted to go to a deathday party. They seemed as if they could be incredibly interesting. "And I wish you luck on joining the Headless Hunt," she said, even though she was fairly certain that he wouldn't get in, they really were quite a fickle lot.
Nick was delighted at this and quickly informed the daughter of Hades where and when the party would be held and she continued on to the Great Hall.
When Maddy sat down she got a hard slap on the back of her head from Elliot.
"What was that for?" Maddy asked, rubbing the back of her head in an attempt to get rid of the nearly nonexistent pain Elliot had caused.
"You said you'd go to Defence Against the Dark Arts," Elliot scowled.
"Yeah, well I was going and Madam Pomfrey made me stay until she was sure I was feeling better. I just got out."
"Boo hoo, you're the one who chose to be sick," Elliot said completely seriously, lacking her usual tone of sarcasm or mocking seriousness.
"You're joking right?" Maddy raised an eyebrow.
"No, whenever I start feeling bad I just will it to go away."
"Well, I don't know what that's about but nobody else can do that."
"Well, they must just be weak willed," Elliot said flatly.
"Oh my gods, El, you're being ridiculous," Maddy held back a smile at her friend's ludicrousness as she began serving herself some of the delicious looking, as always, food.
"I wish we could be at the feast," Harry muttered as he, Ron, Hermione, Maddy, Bella and Elliot made their way to Nick's deathday party.
"A promise is a promise," Hermione said for the thousandth time that night alone.
"Deathday parties are actually very cool," Maddy said. Bella rolled her eyes.
"It's a bunch of ghosts taking about how they died, who doesn't want to hear about that?" Elliot added, completely sincerely.
"I don't," Ron grumbled.
"I wish I could watch the dancing skeletons but it should still be fairly interesting," Bella said.
"Oh yes," Hermione nodded. "I suppose there are very few living people who can say that they've been to a deathday party." Maddy nodded in agreement.
There were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright
blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took, but it didn't bother Maddy in the least. As the people around her shivered and drew their robes tightly around themselves, she heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.
"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron asked incredulously. Maddy couldn't help but cringe a little as well, the ghosts in the Underworld had a much better taste in music. Not to mention, the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard made her feel rather nauseous. She was seriously considering going down to the Underworld just to find Bach's ghost and somehow bring him back up with her.
They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes. "My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…" He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.
It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles.
"At least it isn't as crowded as Asphodel," Maddy said under her breath.
"What?" Hermione asked her.
"It's a city in America," she lied. "Very crowded. It's almost impossible to move through the crowd."
"Shall we look around?" Harry suggested.
"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, the cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead.
"Oh, no," said Hermione, stopping abruptly. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle-"
"Who?" said Harry as they backtracked quickly.
"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," said Hermione.
"She haunts a toilet?"
"Yes. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you-" Elliot began mimicking ghostly wails, receiving a glare from Hermione and snickers from Bella and Ron.
"Oh, I'm sure she's fine," Maddy said and continued walking forward.
Maddy could hear Ron saying, "Look, food!" as she walked away and Bella calling her mad but she didn't pay that bit any mind.
"Hello, Myrtle," Maddy said, startling the young ghost girl dressed in Hogwarts robes out of a very sad looking silence. "I'm Maddy."
"H-hello," she stammered, a little confused and defensive. Maddy guessed people didn't talk to her very often. "What do you want?" She added in a very way and even more defensive tone.
"Just to talk," Maddy replied calmly. Myrtle crossed her arms and looked at Maddy with a scrutinising gaze.
"I'm sure you're really here to torment me like everyone else! Perhaps you'll make fun of my face of my glasses like that wretched Olive Hornby!"
"No, of course not. And ridiculing someone for having glasses is ridiculous, infact, one of my friends wears glasses quite similar to yours," Maddy pointed out Harry. Myrtle seemed to relax a bit.
"OY, MYRTLE!" Someone suddenly yelled, Maddy turned to see that it was Peeves the poltergeist, dressed in horribly garish clothing and standing by the the daughter of Hades' friends. Myrtle began floating over to them and Hermione seemed panicky, Maddy followed the young ghost.
"-er, hello, Myrtle," Hermione said rather awkwardly.
"What?" she said sulkily.
"How are you, Myrtle?" said Hermione in a falsely bright voice. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet." Myrtle sniffed.
"Miss Granger was just talking about you-" said Peeves slyly in Myrtle's ear.
"Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight," said Hermione, glaring at Peeves. Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously.
"You're making fun of me," she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.
"No - honestly - didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?" said Hermione, nudging Harry and Ron in the ribs while attempting to do the same to Bella and Elliot but they were standing too far away from her.
"Oh, yeah-"
"She did-"
"Don't lie to me," Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder.
"D'you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!"
"You've forgotten pimply," Peeves hissed in her ear.
Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with moldy peanuts, yelling, "Pimply! Pimply!"
"Oh, dear," said Hermione sadly.
"Peeves!" Maddy exclaimed. The poltergeist feel silent and Myrtle began to drift away, sadly crying.
"Nice going, Hermione," Ron said bitterly.
"That was actually entertaining," Elliot noted.
"Not really," Bella shook her head.
"Enjoying yourselves?" Nick had appeared.
"Oh yes," they asked nodded.
"Not a bad turnout," said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent… It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra…"
The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.
"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.
Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly; Maddy groaned.
The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick,
squashing his head back onto his neck.
"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?" He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.
"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.
"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).
"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.
"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow-"
"I think," said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, "Nick's very - frightening and
- er -"
"Ha!" yelled Sir Patrick's head.
"Bet he asked you to say that!"
"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick loudly, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.
"My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow…" But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.
"They must have no common decency," Maddy growled. "They know it's his day and they come in her to flaunt the fact that he was rejected yet again. I really don't see why he even wants to join the Headless Hunt after hundreds of years of being rejected for such a thin slice of skin."
"Now they're just bring arses," Bella agreed.
"I bet head hockey'd be fun with real heads," Elliot said thoughtfully. "Messy but very entertaining. Though you would have to avoid hitting the heads too hard to avoid breaking the skull..."
"Why are you thinking about that?" Ron asked.
"Because I can. "
"Let's go," Harry said, shivering as the orchestra started back up. Maddy noticed that the rest of them were shivering as well.
They backed toward the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later were hurrying back up the passageway full of black candles.
"Pudding might not be finished yet," said Ron hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the
entrance hall.
And then, Harry and Elliot suddenly stopped, Harry was pale and looking around everywhere, Elliot seemed to be listening intently.
"Harry, what're you-?" Bella started.
"It's that voice again - shut up a minute-"
"Voice?" Hermione asked. "What voice?"
"Shut up," Elliot said harshly.
"Listen!" Harry spoke at the same time.
"I don't hear a voice," Ron whispered to the other three.
"I think they've gone mad," Bella added with a sigh.
"This way," he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. Harry sprinted up the marble stairs to first floor, the others following him.
"Harry, Elliot, what're we-"
"SHH!"
There was a pause then Elliot shot off yelling a string of profanities and Harry exclaimed, "It's going to kill someone!" and ignoring his friends bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time. Elliot hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Harry, Bella and Maddy close behind, Ron and Hermione panting behind them, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear
anything…"
But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor. "Look!" She shrieked.
There, dangling in the air over a huge puddle of water was Filch's cat, , and just over the completely still cat were dark red words that glittered in the torch light.
"What does it say?" Maddy asked.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware," Hermione breathed.
"What does that mean?" Bella asked.
"What's that dangling underneath?" Ron asked. Harry moved towards and almost slipped in the puddle of water.
"It's Filchs cat," Maddy said. "It isn't dead. I don't think." She added the last part as an afterthought so it sounds more like a guess than exact knowledge.
"Let's get out of here," Ron said quickly.
"Shouldn't we... try to help?" Harry said weakly and awkwardly.
"No," Elliot said urgently. "We do not want to be found here."
"But-"
Harry was cut of by a multitude of approaching footsteps and, at the usherence of Elliot and Maddy, ran into the nearest room. Footsteps were drawing nearer and nearer and soon they all stopped and quiet gasps and hushed whispers spread through the crowd until someone gleefully yelled, "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, mudbloods!" It was Draco Malfoy.
"I'm going to hex him," Elliot muttered under her breath.
"You and me both," Ron added, equally as quiet.
"What's going on here? What's going on?" This was Argus Filch. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked. There was a pause and then, "You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"
"Argus!" This was from Dumbledore. "Come with me, Argus."
"My office is nearest, headmaster," Lockhart said eagerly. "Just upstairs, please feel free."
"Thank you, Gilderoy."
They listened intently, waiting for everyone to leave before exiting the room, but before they could their was a shrill shriek that resounded throughout the room. Ron swore under his breath, they were in Myrtle's bathroom and she was yelling about boys being in there as well as insisting that they were their to bully her.
"Myrtle!" Maddy exclaimed quietly, but she was drowned out by Myrtle's hysterics that, as expected, drew the attention of many people, McGonagall just so happened to be the one to enter the bathroom.
"What is the meaning of this?" She asked, arms crossed and a stern look on her face. They ask stayed quiet, unsure of how to answer the deputy headmistress. She sighed and exasperatedly said, "Come with me."
She lead them into Lockhart's office where Dumbledore, Lockhart, Filch and Snape already were. Maddy scowled at the multitude of smiling, posing Lockhart's on the walls and his desk. She was sure he was even more of an egomaniac than Narcissus and he quite literally died because he refused to look away from himself. Lockhart just happened to be lucky enough to live in a time when he could carry a small photograph of himself in his pocket, something Maddy knew he did. She'd seen him take it out at meals and after classes.
"It was definitely a curse that killed her -probably the Transmogrifian Torture- I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her," Lockhart was saying as they entered.
Dumbledore was muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, Snape was glowering at Lockhart in the shadows and Filch was sobbing in a chair.
"…I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," Lockhart continued, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once-" The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of
them had forgotten to remove his hair net.
"Was that story stolen or fiction?" Elliot asked.
"Miss de la Mare!" McGonagall said sharply.
"I only speak truths," she quickly said.
"And the cat isn't dead," Maddy said.
"How would you know that?" Snape sneered. "Unless-"
"Because I can tell the difference between dead and not dead," she replied, interrupting Snape before he could finish his thought.
"The word's 'alive.'" Bella whispered to Maddy.
"I know that, Bella!" She hissed back.
"Miss Mender is right," Dumbledore said. "She is simply petrified-" ("Ah! I thought so!" Lockhart exclaimed) "-but how, I cannot say."
"Ask her!" Filch pointed at Maddy, hand shaking.
"Oh, what'd I do!" Maddy asked defensively.
"You knew she wasn't dead! How could you have known that without having done it to her!"
"Well-"
"It would have required a skill level far beyond that of a second year's," McGonagall interjected. "Not to mention that it's a Dark Art."
"She did it!" Filch spat, his face was beginning to turn purple. "You saw what she wrote on the wall! Potter found my Kwikspell letter! He must've told her that I'm a squib!"
"For your information, I've never even heard that word before in my entire life!" Maddy replied.
"Rubbish! You're from a pureblood family, 'course you know!"
"I was raised by muggles!"
"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows. "Mender and her friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't she at the Halloween feast?"
"We were at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party," Ron said.
"There were hundreds of ghosts, just ask them," Harry added.
"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?"
"Because-because-" Harry stammered, "because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," he said. Maddy had to admit that that was an awful, stupid and unbelievable lie. She fought the urge to groan and slam her face into something.
"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face. That wasn't the question she'd been expecting. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."
"We weren't hungry," said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble. Snape's nasty smile widened.
"And two of you are Slytherins," he added. "The common room is in the opposite direction."
"Hermione offered to help me with homework," Maddy said, "for History of Magic," she added, knowing that they knew that she needed help with History as it was entirely written.
"And you, Miss de la Mare?" He turned to Elliot. "You do fine with homework on your own."
"The Slytherin common room and Great Hall were too far away," she replied in a completely convincing way. That was certainly something that would motivate her to do or not do something. Snape didn't seem to believe any of them. Well, the Gryffindor's did have pretty terrible excuses and Maddy's didn't line up with Hermione's.
"It seems that these students aren't telling the truth," he said. "I'm thinking no more Quidditch for Potter, Nevra and Weasley and three months of detention for Granger, Mender and de la Mare."
"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop them playing Quidditch and give them months of detention. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick or hit with a spell any of these six could perform. There is no evidence at all that Potter, Mender or any of the others have done anything wrong."
"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. Snape looked furious. So did Filch.
"My cat has been petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"
"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris"
"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep-"
"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."
"Not to mention those 'hundred' times are probably all either fake or stolen from other people," Elliot added.
"Ten points from Slytherin for repeated disrespect towards a professor," McGonagall said.
"Worth it," Elliot whispered to her friends.
"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bella, Elliot and Maddy.
They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them.
"What was that writing on the wall about?" Harry asked. "'The Chamber Has Been Opened'... What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once... might've been Bill..."
"The Chamber of Secrets," Elliot began that sounded as if she was a teacher, "is rumoured to only be able to be opened by descendants of Salazar Slytherin, the last recorded time it was opened was in 1943."
"Oh yeah, didn't someone die then?" Bella asked. "Someone Warren... I think."
"Yeah," Elliot nodded.
"What on earth's a Squib?" said Harry.
"I was wondering that too," Maddy said.
Ron stifled a snigger and Elliot glared at him. "Well, it's not funny really but as it's Filch," he said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Ron gave a satisfied smile. "He's bitter."
A clock chimed somewhere. "Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."
Elliot swore and said, "We really should get going," she ran out the door, Maddy quickly followed, then the Gryffindors ran out as well.
So since this chapter features a bit from Elliot's perspective I decided that I should reveal a bit of information about her that I've been very excited about but I don't want to make a big deal of in the story, there's little hints that I at least try to drop here and there and it might be outwardly mentioned sometime in the GoF or OotP I'm not too sure yet though.
ANYWAYS, DUH DUH DUH DUN DUUUUUUUUUUN
Elliot is a trans girl, hella, enjoy the information I hope this makes someone as happy as it makes me when I figure out that someone in a story is a member of the LGBT community.