CHAPTER TEN

"A dueling club?" Hannah read aloud, standing on her toes to stare over people's heads. It was the third week of December, and she, Ron, and Neville had stumbled across a crowd around the bulletin board on their way to lunch.

"First meeting tonight!" said Seamus, cheerfully budging up to let them have a better look. "Could come in handy later."

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster knows how to duel?" Ron asked sarcastically, even as he peered at the bulletin with interest.

The others agreed that it was a good idea, but their enthusiasm lasted only until eight o'clock that night, when they'd elbowed their way into the crowded, noisy Great Hall and found Professor Lockhart standing on a stage. Harry and Ron exchanged horrified glances as Lockhart waved an arm for silence.

"I can't believe he didn't get fired," Hannah muttered darkly.

"Gather round!" Lockhart called. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Yes? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to start this little club to train you, just in case you ever find yourself in a dangerous situation! You will be taught to defend yourself just as I have done on many occasions - for full details, see my published work." He beamed at all of them, his plum-colored velvet robes glistening in the light. "Allow me to introduce my assistant, Professor Snape!" Lockhart flung his cloak back dramatically, stepping aside as if to reveal Snape, who, in truth, had been standing beside him the entire time.

"Wouldn't it be great if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered to Harry, who grinned despite himself, and Hannah, who was in earshot, muffled a giggle.

She looked back up at the stage as Lockhart finished talking, and watched as the professors faced each other and bowed. Or, at least, Lockhart did, with a great deal of fuss and wand-twirling - Snape, on the other hand, merely gave his head an annoyed jerk. They raised their wands before them like swords. Hannah's eyes widened at the sight, and glazed over a little as she imagined herself on that stage, dressed in actual, shining armor with filigree flowers, holding a brilliant sword, rescuing a damsel in distress from some Slytherin or other. Maybe Flint, she thought absently, watching Lockhart chatter. He's huge and gross.

Lockhart was blasted off his feet by a flash of scarlet light, startling her and several others out of their trances. He toppled off the stage, arms pinwheeling, and fell to the floor with a muffled grunt. The Slytherins - and, a little reluctantly, about half the Gryffindors - uttered a cheer.

"Do you think he's all right?" squeaked a Ravenclaw girl, standing on tiptoe and trying to peek over the crowd.

"Who cares," said Harry and Ron together, and Hermione rolled her eyes at them.

"Just because you don't like him," she began, then trailed off when Lockhart got to his feet, hair rumpled, hat missing.

"Well!" he said brightly, clambering gracelessly back onto the platform. "There you have it! That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown." He straightened and ran his hands briskly over his hair, nudging it back into the semblance of perfection. "Splendid idea, Professor Snape, to show them that, though a bit obvious, if you don't mind my saying so! Had I wished to stop you, it would have been only too easy, but I thought it better to let them see..." Lockhart paused, catching sight of the truly murderous expression on Snape's face, then cleared his throat and slapped on another cheery smile, turning to face the students. "Right! Enough demonstrating. We're going to come sort you into pairs to practice, now -"

He hopped down again before Snape had time to do more than sneer, and immediately began to pair people together. Hannah, swept along with the sudden movement of people, found herself being spotted by Lockhart and steered towards the Slytherin group. "Here we are, Miss Abbott!" he said. "Why don't you pair up with Mr. Malfoy here!" And, giving them both a pat on the shoulder, he disappeared again. Malfoy looked intensely uncomfortable, and Hannah felt a sudden rush of vicious glee.

"This will be fun," she said, grinning. She glanced across the hall and saw Hermione get paired with Millicent Bulstrode by Snape, who looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. Millicent, large and square, looked indifferently down at Hermione, who smiled weakly. She darted a wide-eyed glance at Hannah, who shrugged and gave her an encouraging thumbs-up as Harry was paired off with Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Finally, when everyone was in twos, Lockhart sprang back onto the stage and called out, "Face your partners, everyone, and bow!" Hannah turned to Malfoy and, looking him dead in the eye, cut a mocking, if wobbly, curtsey. He stonily inclined his head, looking as if this were the last place he wanted to be. "Wands at the ready!" They both drew, and held their wands like they'd seen the teachers do. "On three, cast only your charms to disarm your opponents, nothing else! One! Two!" At that moment, everyone realized he'd not actually taught them the charm. "Three!"

There was a great deal of confused shouting, but Hannah ignored it, dodging the Leg-Locker Curse Malfoy fired at her. Someone behind her cried out as it struck them, but she was already shouting, "Rictusempra!"

Malfoy doubled over, wheezing as the Tickling Charm took effect, and Hannah laughed, pleased with her success, because she'd never tried it before. Before she could do anything else, however, the Slytherin's wand came up, and he choked out, "Tarantallegra!"

Hannah shrieked in alarm as her legs started moving about in a warped sort of dance. She desperately jabbed her wand at Malfoy, shouting the first spell that came to mind, which turned out to be the Levitation Charm, and Malfoy yelped as he was swept up off the floor. He swung about, trying to right himself, and Hannah, busy giggling at the sight, tripped over someone's wand as it scudded along the ground. The fall knocked the breath out of her, and as she gasped, she became aware that Lockhart was shouting desperately.

"Finite Incantatem!" Snape shouted, voice booming in the Hall, and there was an immediate halt to all spellcasting. Several people, Malfoy included, hit the floor with shouts of protest. Hannah, catching her breath, stared up at Snape through a haze of spell smoke. How in Merlin's name had he cast it on all of them?

Lockhart tsked over them, moving amongst them and murmuring encouragement. Hannah got to her feet and tried to spot her friends. Hermione and Millicent, both dazed and stumbling, had been separated by Ron, who was looking a little green. Neville was laying on the floor face-down and groaning, and Harry had an odd purple growth on his face. "Dear me," said Lockhart, and rounded up a few of the students - Harry included, to sit on the sidelines while their spells wore off. Another handful were sent up to the hospital wing for spells gone wrong, one of the prefects going with them.

"I think I had better teach you how to block unfriendly spells!" Lockhart declared. "Let's have a volunteer pair - ah!" He looked straight at Hannah and Malfoy, who were the only ones standing up still in their part of the room - everyone else had silently declared truce and sat down. "Miss Abbott, Mr. Malfoy, thank you! Come right up." He patted the stage, and they reluctantly trudged over.

"I'm not certain-" Snape began to murmur, but stopped abruptly, looking highly affronted, when Lockhart waved a hand in his face.

"Nonsense, Professor Snape!" he said brightly. "They've done well so far!"

Once Hannah and Malfoy had climbed onto the stage, the two teachers split off. To Hannah's annoyance, she was stuck with Lockhart, who smiled down at her. "Now, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this," he said, and sort of wiggled his wand about until it fell right out of his hand. Hannah gaped at him.

Across the stage, Snape muttered something to Draco, who nodded, looking determined. Right, on my own for this one, Hannah thought, eyeing him. Aloud, she said, "Got it, Professor Lockhart."

"Wonderful!" said Lockhart, who had by then retrieved his wand. He clapped her on the shoulder, then stepped away. "On my count!" he called as Snape, too, left the stage. "One - two - three - go!"

"Lumos!" Hannah shouted, and a bright light erupted in the middle of the stage, blocking Malfoy's view. She ducked to the side in anticipation of Malfoy's spell, which hit the stage behind her and left a ball of sparks in its wake. The lumos disappeared abruptly, and Hannah cast a Leg-Locker.

Malfoy avoided it, just barely, casting as he moved. Hannah brought up her wand defensively and squeezed her eyes shut on reflex, though she wasn't sure what good it would do, but at first, it seemed like nothing had happened. Then she heard the gasps, and opened her eyes just as the first screams started. There was a snake on the stage in front of her, rearing up to strike. The crowd scrambled back from the stage, and Hannah swallowed her own scream, not daring to move.

"Don't move, Abbott," said Snape calmly, drawing his wand as if the snake weren't his idea, but Lockhart leapt forward, brandishing his own wand.

"Allow me!" he shouted. But before he could so much as raise his wand, there was an earsplitting BANG, and the snake flew off the stage. It hit the floor and writhed a moment, enraged, before slithering towards Mandy Brocklehurst, hissing furiously and baring its fangs.

It hadn't quite reached her when Harry, face still bulging from the spell, darted in front of it and hissed back. The snake froze, and Hannah almost dropped her wand in shock. Hissing, the snake moved towards Mandy again, but Harry hissed louder, and the snake stopped, staring straight at the Ravenclaw, who started to take great, hiccuping breaths, tears welling in her eyes. Harry grinned at the snake, then up at Mandy, and did a double take when he saw her face.

"Er, are you-" he started, but she shook her head, backing away from him. Two other Ravenclaws pulled her away to the safety of their ranks, glaring at Harry, who stared in confusion.

Snape stepped forward and banished the snake with a brisk wave of his wand, looking at Harry with a calculating expression. For her part, Hannah glanced over at Malfoy, who looked unsettled. Seeing that no one was paying attention, Hannah whispered a spell the twins had taught her, and contrived to look innocent when brightly colored pimples sprouted on Malfoy's forehead, spelling PRAT in wobbly cursive.

"You're a Parselmouth," said Ron to Harry later, once they'd successfully herded him into an empty classroom, leaving Hannah - who was being scolded - behind out of neccessity. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"A what?" Harry asked, frowning.

"A Parselmouth! You can talk to snakes," Ron replied, perching on a desk.

Harry blinked. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my uncle at the zoo once-" He darted a glance at Dudley, who looked as if a big question had been answered, then continued. "-it had been telling me how it'd never seen Brazil, so- but I mean, that was before I knew I was a wizard-"

They all stared at him in varying flavors of morbid fascination. "A boa constrictor told you it'd never seen Brazil?" Ron asked faintly.

"So? I bet loads of people here can do it," said Harry defensively, but Neville shook his head.

"No, it's really rare," he said, biting nervously on his thumbnail. "Oh, this is bad-"

"How so?" asked Dudley. "I mean, I know it sounded bad-"

Bristling, Harry said, "What's wrong with everyone? All I did was tell it to stop!"

"It sounded like you were egging it on," Ron told him. "We only heard you speaking snake language, remember? No wonder Mandy got upset - then again, she's always crying about something..."

Seeing that Harry was only getting more confused and agitated, Hermione said, "Harry, being able to talk to snakes is what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why Slytherin House's symbol is a serpent."

"And those rumors had just died down, too," Dudley groaned, burying his face in his hands as his cousin's mouth dropped open in horror.

"But it's- I'm not-" Harry stammered.

"You don't know," Hermione said. "I mean, he lived thousands of years ago, you could be related to him."

"Okay," Dudley interrupted, "but wouldn't the Chamber have opened last year if it was him? Can't we point that out to anybody?"

"Point what out?" Hannah asked, stumbling into the room. She looked cheerful, and Hermione shot her an angry look.

"That the Chamber would've opened last year if Harry was the Heir," she said, adding tersely, "not that it would be a problem if someone hadn't spelled the snake into the crowd in the first place."

Hannah's eyes went round in shock, and the boys stopped to watch them anxiously. "What?" she cried. "You think I did that?"

"I don't see who else it could've been!" Hermione said, folding her arms. "No one hand their wands out but you and Malfoy, and he'd just cast it!"

"So? Like he couldn't have cast something else?" Hannah demanded. "You would've heard me, I can't cast nonverbal spells-"

"Lockhart was talking, maybe you said it quietly, like you did when you hexed Malfoy-"

"Oh, is that what this is about? You've hexed him too!"

"No, and that's not the point!"

The two girls stopped and glared at each other, and without another word, Hannah turned and flung open the door, shouting over her shoulder, "Fine! Have it your way, Hermione Granger!"

A light snow that began that night had become a full blizzard by morning, and Herbology was canceled so that Professor Sprout could fit the mandrakes with socks and scarves. She refused to entrust the task to anyone else, deftly fending off any offers of help from Lockhart, going so far as to lock herself in with a ward on the greenhouse door. By the time breakfast was over, Hannah and Hermione, who'd gotten into several arguments since the first, were no longer speaking to each other, and for that matter, also weren't speaking with the boys, who honestly weren't sure what to do about it.

Because of this, the full effects of his slip-up went unnoticed by Harry until lunchtime. The girls were sitting by themselves, so Ron was camped out with Ginny, writing letters to their parents. Dudley was off on some errand or other, and Neville was dozing off between each bite of sandwich. For his part, Harry was slogging fruitlessly through his Magical Theory textbook when the feeling of eyes boring into him finally sank in, giving him goosebumps. He looked up in time to see Justin Finch-Fletchley turn quickly away. It wasn't just him, though; everywhere Harry looked, people turned their gaze away, even at his own table, and he gradually became aware of the whispers.

"-the heir."

"Can't believe it, Harry Potter-"

"-saw that snake-"

"Always knew-"

"What a freak."

Harry slammed his book shut, startling Neville awake, then shouldered his bag and stomped out of the hall. He had no particular destination in mind, but, quickly realizing how little he wanted to be around people, chose to take a shortcut past Filch's office. As he stepped into the corridor, Harry reflexively checked for Mrs. Norris, only to remember she was still petrified somewhere. Sheepishness overtaking the simmering frustration in his gut, he crept down the hall, slowing as he approached the door of the dreaded office, which he now saw was cracked open. There was an old, distinctly unflattering photo of Mrs. Norris tacked to it that purred warningly as he drew near.

"GET OUT!" Filch roared from inside. Harry jumped and leapt back, but the door didn't budge, and to his shock, he heard a familiar voice.

"Please just consider it, Mr. Filch." At the sound of footsteps, Harry flattened himself against the wall just as the door opened and Dudley stepped out, inexplicably carrying a tea set. The blond nudged the door shut with his toe, then froze as he spotted his cousin. The Gryffindor opened his mouth, but Dudley frantically shook his head, then nodded down the hall.

They quietly trotted away, and once they were safely out of range, Harry asked, whispering despite himself, "What was that about?"

Dudley murmured, from the corner of his mouth, "I offered to teach him magic if he'd keep an eye out for anything weird."

This was so out of left field that they'd reached the kitchens before Harry was done processing it. He waited impatiently outside as Dudley returned the tea set, and when he'd come out, said, "Why?"

After taking a moment to think about it, Dudley replied, "I'm practically a squib myself, y'know? And I look at people like Filch, and mom, who grew up with magic they can't ever touch." He stopped, swallowed hard, and said so quietly Harry had to lean in to hear, "What if we could open our doors to squib and Muggle students? What if there are ways we can - can store magic for them, like batteries, in case they need it?"

Harry gaped at him. "I- how would we do that?"

His cousin hesitated. "I don't know, but I think Filch might be a good starting point."

Ron was in the Charms corridor, and it was past curfew. "Why does this always happen?" he groused under his breath, not even sure what he was complaining about, then set off, socked feet rasping quietly on the cold floor. The air grew chillier as he walked, sinking through his thin pyjamas and into his bones. This, coupled with the fact that the corridor was rapidly getting darker, made him hurry. He needed to get to bed, and fast.

A shrill scream made him stop dead, and something huge hurtled at him from the dark. He yelped and ducked, then turned to look, putting his hands on the railing as he stared into the dark stairwell that had come out of nowhere. Something a few flights down was slithering about, and another scream ripped through the air. Ron drew his wand, then ran down the stairs, making it two flights before he found himself in a new corridor altogether. It was ice cold, with pale marble walls that dripped water, and there was an eerie, unnatural light. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and though he couldn't see it, he felt the rold beyond the corridor drop suddenly away into dark nothingness.

Before he could open his mouth to question it, a third scream ripped through the air, and Ron was compelled to lurch forward. The soles of his shoes slapped the floor, echoing loudly as he ran. His grip on his wand tensed, but he still almost dropped it when Hannah rushed him from the darkness. Her grimy face was pale and drawn, eyes wide with terror, and her damp hair streamed out behind her.

"Hey!" he said, trying to grab her, but she moved past as if he wasn't there, and he watched, brow furrowed in puzzlement. A noise drew his attention back the way she'd come, and Ron almost had a heart attack when he saw two dully gleaming eyes. A faint hissing reached his ears about the same time as a huge, terrifying head came into the light.

It was like no snake he'd ever seen, but it didn't seem to notice him. Instead, it slithered past him, scales rasping on the stone. Ron shouted a warning, turning to run after Hannah, and slipped in a puddle. He fell hard, knocking the breath out of his lungs, and found himself very suddenly awake on the dorm floor.

He stared wordlessly at the ceiling, jaw agape, breathing hard, before he got it together enough to disentangle himself. By the time he was up and had everything sorted, the dream was gone, leaving nothing more than an uneasy impression in his brain. Ron tried for a few moments to remember what he'd seen, then gave up and went back to bed, more relieved than not.

"Hermione."

"Hannah."

The two girls stood off to the side of the corridor leading into the Great Hall, arms folded as they stared each other down. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, so the castle was silent but for the distant murmuring of paintings or creaking of stairs. They'd run into each other accidentally, and instead of immediately storming away, had engaged in a staring contest.

Finally, Hannah broke, stomping her foot. "I can't take this!" she cried, tears springing into her eyes. Hermione drew back a little, startled. "I hate fighting with you!" She reached out and took the Gryffindor's shoulders, lip quivering. "I'm sorry, 'Mione! I got really carried away, and I got upset 'cos you didn't believe me about the snake-"

Hermione looked away, heat rising in her cheeks. "No, look, I'm sorry, I know that wasn't you-" They stood awkwardly for a moment longer before she threw her arms around Hannah in a tight hug.

"Everything all right?" Dudley asked, appearing as if from nowhere, and the girls jumped in surprise. He looked tired to Hermione, hair mussed, but nowhere near as bad as he had during their first year, so she decided he'd only been up late again.

"Oh! Um, y-yeah, I think- yeah," Hannah said, glancing at Hermione for confirmation. She wiped her face on her sleeve and sniffed loudly. "G-good morning."

"'Morning," the other 'puff replied, smiling, and patted their shoulders. "Breakfast? Or would you like a minute?"

Hermione patted the bow that held her thick hair back, saying, "No, I think we're okay," and she took Hannah's other hand before leading her into the hall. "So," she continued in a low voice, "I know it's only been a couple days, but has anyone found something on the Chamber?" She cast a disapproving look Dudley's way, which he returned with sleepy puzzlement. "I hope your late night was spent on that, Mr. Dursley."

Dudley grimaced. "Maybe?" he said. "Not really? I mean, nothing's come of my research anyway. I keep wondering if it's some kind of, I don't know, curse maybe?"

"It could be," Hermione said, humming skeptically. "It would have to be really, really advanced to last this long."

Hannah cleared her throat, then said, "Hasn't it opened before? Why don't we write to the Ministry? Say we're- we're doing a history project."

They all looked at each other, weighing the odds. "Well," Dudley said finally, "It's worth a shot."