Chapter Seven:
School soon fell into Elizabeth's usual routine. She spent classes and almost all meals with her House, especially Susan and Hannah—though Defense Against the Dark Arts, she sat with Ernie, Rodger, and Wayne. Breaks and other times outside of class, before curfew, she spent with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Or just Ron and Hermione when Harry was at practice. Or she was at the pitch herself, watching the Hufflepuffs practice. Her brother had made Chaser this year, and he was in a much better mood than he'd been the last year after tryouts.
Sometimes, especially on days when it had been raining like it was one day just a week before Halloween, Elizabeth would greet Harry as he came in from practice and would walk with him up to the Gryffindor tower.
"Practice must have been miserable," Elizabeth said as Harry came in, dripping with water and mud, his Nimbus Two Thousand resting over his shoulder.
"It was," Harry said with a sigh, "There's no way we're going to be able to keep up with the Slytherins on their brooms..."
"Don't say that," Elizabeth said, "Just keep practicing. I'd hate to say it, feel like I'm betraying my House, but you're the best flyer I've ever seen, Harry. If anyone can beat those Slytherins, it's you. Besides." Elizabeth grinned at him. "We're talking about Malfoy here. There's no way he'd ever catch the Snitch, no matter how good of a broom he has."
"Thanks," Harry said with a smile, seeming a little better at that.
They'd rounded a corner and Elizabeth saw a ghost up ahead. By the ruffles and the way his head wobbled, she took at guess this was Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor. She'd seen him around a few times, but never actually had talked to him herself. As they got closer, she could hear him mumbling to himself.
"Hello, Nick," Harry spoke loudly, to make sure he had the ghost's attention.
"Hello, hello," Nearly Headless Nick had turned towards them, then grinned as he saw Harry.
"Is something bothering you?" Elizabeth asked.
"Ah, a matter of no importance..." Nearly Headless Nick waved her off, "It's not as though I really wanted to join...Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements'—But you would think, wouldn't you," Nearly Headless Nick suddenly pulled something from his pocket that looked like parchment, though it was as silvery and transparent as he was, "That getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"
"Oh—yes," Harry said in an unsure sort of way. He looked over at Elizabeth with a confused look and she simply returned his stare. She really only knew of Nearly Headless Nick from stories other students told. She was much more familiar with her own House ghost, the Fat Friar.
"I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had been quick and clean," Nearly Headless Nick went on, "And my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However—" He shook out the transparent parchment and began to read, his voice thick with anger, "'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company within their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"
"Oh, sorry..." Elizabeth said slowly. What was she supposed to say to that?
"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on!" Nearly Headless Nick said, "Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore."
There was a loud meow nearby and Elizabeth turned, at first expecting Cream, or some other student's cat, but instead, she found herself facing Mrs. Norris. The nasty little cat with red eyes, owned by the equally nasty caretaker, Argus Filch.
"You two better get out of here," Nearly Headless Nick said, "Filch isn't in a good mood—he's got the flu and some third-years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place, Harry—"
"Right," Harry said, starting to back away. Elizabeth was right behind him, though the second they turned around, they found themselves face to face with Filch himself, appearing from behind a tapestry nearby. He was out of breath and red-faced, a scarf wrapped around him despite being inside. The second he noticed Elizabeth and Harry, his face grew redder and Elizabeth instinctively took a step behind Harry.
"Filth! Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter, Martin!"
Harry and Elizabeth exchanged a look before leaving Nearly Headless Nick behind and following the Hogwarts caretaker. Neither of them dared to say a word the entire walk down to a small, windowless room. Elizabeth glanced around, squinting slightly in the dim light at the old desk and walls lined with filing cabinets. Every now and then, the light reflected off of chains hanging from the ceiling. Again, Elizabeth moved closer to Harry. Chains from the ceiling and dim lighting gave the room a far too eerie vibe for her.
"Dung," Flitch muttered as he grabbed a quill and continued to look around his desk, "Great sizzling dragon bogies...Frog brains...rat intestines...I've had enough of it...make an example...where's that form...yes..."
Elizabeth glanced at Harry next to her. He looked back, looking as nervous as she felt. They weren't about to get in detention, were they? Just for Harry tracking a bit of mud into the castle?
"Name...Harry Potter and Elizabeth Martin. Crime..."
"It was only a bit of mud!" Harry said suddenly, "And Elizabeth had nothing to do with it!"
"It's only a bit of mud to you, boy," Fitch replied, seeming to ignore Harry's second complaint, "But to me it's an extra hour of scrubbing!" He turned back to the parchment. "Crime...befouling the castle...suggested sentence..."
There was a loud crash from directly overhead, causing the hanging lamp to sway.
"PEEVES! I'll have you this time, I'll have you!"
Filch was out the door in a second and Elizabeth looked over at Harry.
"Think we should make a run for it?" she asked.
"We'll probably just end up in even more trouble," Harry said slowly, looking around the room, "We should wait. Maybe by the time he gets back he'll be too angry with Peeves and just tell us to leave."
Elizabeth thought Harry was being a bit naive, but nodded and sat down anyway. Harry, sitting down in a chair closer to the desk, picked up a purple letter off the desk.
"Kwikspell? What's this?" he asked.
"A scam thing," Elizabeth said, "It supposedly is supposed to help people like Squibs be able to use magic."
"Squib?" Harry asked, looking up at Elizabeth.
"People born in magical families who don't have magic themselves. I had a great-great uncle who was a Squib, my family lost contact with him after a while, after he went to live with Muggles."
"Are squibs common?" Harry asked.
"No, they're really rare," Elizabeth answered, shaking her head, "But if Filch is one, that explains why he hates students so much...But why would he choose to take care of a castle full of witches and wizards when he can't use magic himself? Most squibs can't take being around magic when they can't use it and usually go to live with Muggles."
They heard the familiar sound of Filch's footsteps in the hallway and Harry threw the letter back onto the desk, quickly turning around and Elizabeth followed suit, hoping Filch wouldn't notice. She just wanted to find out what detention she had and get out of there.
"That vanishing cabinet was extremely valuable!" Filch said gleefully, Mrs. Norris right on his heels, "We'll have Peeves out this time, my sweet!"
Filch suddenly noticed Elizabeth and Harry, seeming to just remember they were there. His gaze went to his desk and his face suddenly went red as he noticed the purple envelope. Elizabeth immediately moved towards Harry, half-hiding behind him.
"Have you—did you read—"
"No," Elizabeth and Harry answered at once.
"If I thought you'd read my private—not that it's mine—for a friend—be that as it may—however—Very well—go—and don't breathe a word—not that—however, if you didn't read—go now, I have to write up Peeves' report—go—"
Elizabeth didn't need telling twice, hurrying out of the office with Harry. She'd never seen Filch look so livid before and she made a note to make sure never to end up in that situation again.
"That was close," Elizabeth said, "I'm going to head on to my common room. See you later, Harry."
Elizabeth turned, heading off down the stairs to her own common room, heading in and seeing the rain washing against the high, small windows. Elizabeth was just about to head over to where she saw Susan and Hannah when she heard Harry's voice coming from her bag, so instead she went off to her dormitory and sat on her bed, pulling out her little mirror.
"What is it?" she asked, "Did Filch come after you again?"
"No, but I talked with Nick after you left," Harry said, "I wanted to get you to tell you at the same time as Hermione and Ron." Elizabeth watched as Harry looked up, and she realized he was at his common room now, "But he's invited us all to come to his deathday party on Halloween."
"A deathday party?" Hermione's voice came from out of view, "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been do one of those—it'll be fascinating!"
Leave it to Hermione to find something depressing as a learning experience.
"I don't see why you'd want to celebrate the day you died," Elizabeth said, "What's the point?"
"Yeah, it sounds dead depressing to me," Ron said from out of view and Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
"But what was this about Filch?" Hermione asked, "Did you get into trouble again, Harry?"
"He was making up excuses," Harry responded, "Since I was tracking in mud and—"
There was suddenly a loud bang from the other side of the mirror and Elizabeth watched as Harry jerked his head up, grinning at something going on in their common room.
"What? What happened?" Elizabeth asked, not really about to see much besides Harry.
"Fred and George," Harry turned back to her, "They were feeding a firecracker to a salamander. It just went off and the salamander hid in the fire."
"Someone could have been hurt!" Hermione said, "Can't they be more responsible?"
"I thought it was brilliant," Ron said with a laugh.
The four continued talking until it started growing late and they all said goodnight before going on to bed. Elizabeth sighed as she curled up under her covers, Cream lying on her pillow next to her head. Elizabeth wasn't looking forward to Halloween. A deathday party didn't sound fun at all.
Still, she wasn't going to back out, despite the fact she wanted to as much as Harry and Ron did. So, on Halloween night, she stood in the entrance hall, waiting for her friends. She tried not to pay too much attention to everyone passing her into the Great Hall, or the delicious smells of the feast in the next room. Her stomach was growling and her mouth watered a little at the smell, but she stayed where she was.
She kept trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. She'd been feeling odd nearly all day. She'd had feelings like this before, but she knew there was a reason for it. Like this time, it was simply her not wanting to go to this deathday party. Once it was over with, the feeling would go away.
Eventually, she saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione coming on down the stairs, Harry and Ron both looking longingly to the Great Hall. They all turned, heading down into a dimly lit corridor of the dungeons. Even with all the candles, though the fact they were all glowing a low blue flame probably had something to do with it.
The further they went along the corridor, the colder Elizabeth felt. Dungeons were often a bit cooler than the rest of the castle, but this was like standing out in the snow. Elizabeth hugged her robes tighter against her, noticing the others doing the same, as they reached one room where there was a screeching sort of noise that made Elizabeth wince slightly.
Nearly Headless Nick was there to greet them at the door, ushering them inside. Elizabeth followed her friends, and she had to admit, despite the cold and teeth-grinding music, it was an amazing sight in the room. Hundreds of ghosts were floating around, giving the room a soft silver glow mixing with the blue of the candles.
"I guess we should look around," Elizabeth said, hugging her robes closer, "I mean, we're here. We might as well try to enjoy ourselves."
Making their way through the room was a challenge. It was hard to judge where to walk so they wouldn't accidentally walk through one of the many ghosts. Elizabeth could see other Hogwarts ghosts around, including the Gray Lady of Ravenclaw, the Bloody Baron of Slytherin, and the Fat Friar of her own House. She waved to him as he looked up and he waved back with a bright grin.
"Oh no," Hermione's eyes widened as she stopped, then took a step backwards, "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle."
Elizabeth was quick to start heading the other way, glancing towards the ghost of a plump young girl with glasses. Elizabeth had never met the ghost before and she hoped to keep it that way.
"Who's she?" Harry asked once they were a safe distance away.
"This ghost that stays in a toilet in the first floor bathroom," Elizabeth said, "No one can ever use it, she's crying all the time and half the time she floods everything."
"She haunts a toilet?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"I don't get it either, but she loves to cry in there."
"Look, food!" Ron said eagerly, starting for one side of the room where there was a long table. Elizabeth followed behind, eager for something to eat, but the second she got within sight of the table she gagged.
The table was full of food, but it was all food that Elizabeth had no intention of eating. All of it was covered in mold and maggots, or burned to the point of being black. In the center of the table was a large, disgusting looking cake shaped like a tombstone and held the date of Nearly Headless Nick's death on it.
"I expect they've let it rot to give it a strong flavor," Hermione said as a ghost passed through the table and said he could almost taste it.
"Can we move?" Ron asked, "I feel sick."
"Fine with me," Elizabeth said, backing away from the table. She turned around, then groaned. Peeves the Poltergeist had come over to them, looking gleeful.
"Nibbles?" he asked, holding out a bowl of molded peanuts. Elizabeth made a face at that as Hermione turned him down. "Heard you talking about poor Myrtle. Rude you was about poor Myrtle."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. She knew where this was going and she started to protest, at the same time as Hermione, as Peeves yelled across the room for Myrtle. Elizabeth gave a groan, realizing the ghost was coming over, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Just be nice and they could get through this.
Unfortunately, that was not how things worked out. The second Myrtle was over, Peeves started teasing her, sending the ghost into another of her fits. She flew off sobbing, Peeves right behind. The night didn't get much better after that as the Headless Hunt had shown up. Elizabeth had actually thought their show was entertaining, but she could see that they hadn't been a welcome group from Nearly Headless Nick's reaction and Elizabeth figured he had to still be bitter for being denied joining the group.
"I can't stand much more of this," Ron said some time later and they were all far too eager to leave.
Elizabeth was instantly glad to be back in the warmth of the rest of the castle. That odd feeling was still in her stomach, and in fact it was getting stronger.
'It must just be the smell of that food down in that dungeon,' Elizabeth told herself.
"Pudding might not be finished yet," Ron said behind Elizabeth. She was just about to say something in response when she saw something from the corner of her eye and turned, seeing Harry looking pale and gripping the wall nearby. Elizabeth hurried over to him, placing her hand on his arm.
"Harry? What's wrong?" she asked, trying to ignore the odd feeling in her stomach getting stronger. Like she knew something was wrong, but she didn't know what.
"It's that voice again—shut up a minute—Listen!"
Elizabeth fell silent, her hand still on Harry's shoulder as she strained her ears. She could hear people talking in the Great Hall up the stairs, and she could hear the faint screeching of the so-called 'music' from the deathday party. But she couldn't hear anything that would be making Harry act like this, and he was staring up as if the voice he was hearing was above them rather than to the side or below.
"This way!" Harry said suddenly, taking off up the stairs nearby.
Elizabeth shared a confused look with Ron and Hermione, but then they hurried off after Harry anyway. He was suddenly going up the marble staircase nearby and Elizabeth hurried to follow.
"It's going to kill someone!" Harry called loudly. Elizabeth felt her stomach tighten, a feeling of dread growing stronger. She kept ignoring it, though, following Harry down a corridor on the second floor.
He stumbled to a stop at the end of it and Elizabeth nearly ran into him, breathing hard. Her heart was pounding and that feeling of dread was going so strong, she felt sick. She was trembling slightly now and was doubled over, her hands on her knees and her eyes closed as she tried to take deep breaths to calm herself down.
"Harry, what was that all about?" Ron asked somewhere to Elizabeth's right, "I couldn't hear anything..."
"Look!" Hermione said in a high voice.
Elizabeth looked up, and immediately wished she hadn't. On the wall at the end of the corridor were letters shining in the torchlight:
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEENOPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
