Chapter Three

A few days later, in the Great Hall at breakfast, Harry glanced sideways at Nicholas before hesitantly saying, "You know, I've never heard you once talk about your sister. Except for the Gilderoy Lockhart thing, I suppose."

"So?" Nicholas took a sip of pumpkin juice. "Does it really matter?"

"Well, no," Harry admitted. "But I just never knew that you had a sister, and, well … I guess I'm just curious. I've never had any siblings before, except Dudley, but he's not my brother—thankfully."

"Isabelle's … Isabelle," Nicholas replied. "A stuck-up, eleven-year-old with an obsession over Gilderoy Lockhart that she got from my Aunt Chasity. She looks exactly like me, except that her hair's loads longer and that she's a girl. That enough information for you? Oh, yeah, and if you're really curious, then get this: her middle name's Beatrice!"

Harry frowned as Nicholas's voice became more sarcastic with each word he spoke. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Nicholas repeated. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

With a cheerful look, Nicholas took another big gulp of pumpkin juice while Harry glanced at Draco, who shrugged his shoulders and looked clueless.

"Oh, but you know," Nicholas started, "now that I think about it, only one teeny thing's wrong. I'm a mistake."

Now Harry was even more confused. "What? How're you a mistake?"

Nicholas shook his head, averting his eyes so that they now were staring at the plate in front of him instead of Harry's.

"I really would rather not to talk about it here," Nicholas responded, his voice growing quieter. "Can you drop it, Harry? Drop it and throw it under the couch, do whatever you want, just drop it."

"OK," said Harry, glancing at Draco once again. "It's … thrown under the couch?" At Nicholas's dirty glare, Harry gave the boy an apologetic look. "Sorry, but I dropped it. Can we at least talk about something else?"

"I don't feel like talking," Nicholas muttered, staring into space. "I don't feel like eating, either."

"OK," Draco finally said, slowly. He leaned over towards Harry and whispered, "I'll bet he's glad that it's Saturday. No classes. I really don't think he could concentrate in any class with the way he's acting today—"

"You know," Nicholas said loudly, "either I have really good hearing or Draco's whispering a little too loudly, because I can hear every word you're saying."

Draco straightened up and gave Nicholas a look. "Well then, you must have really good hearing, because I am not a loud whisperer."

Nicholas snorted. "Is that a fact? Because, y'know, I think the Gryffindor table even heard you."

Draco sneered. "When you have something going on, you really turn grumpy. Talk to me when you're not so testy, will you?"

"I won't make any promises," Nicholas snapped, standing up and blatantly ignoring Draco. "We'll talk in the common room, OK, Harry?"

Draco kept sneering at Nicholas as he walked out of the Great Hall. "I wonder what's up with him," he finally said.

"I don't know," Harry replied, still feeling befuddled. "D'you think we should go up to the common room to see if he's OK?"

"You can," Draco replied, "but I'm not. As far as I'm concerned, Nicholas and I aren't speaking."

"Come on! We spent all of our Hogwarts year last year not speaking, now you and Nicholas are going to spend this year not speaking?"

Draco shrugged, remaining silent. Harry shook his head.

"No, you're not," Harry said for Draco. "Come on, let's go see what Nicholas was going on about."

"Right now?"

Harry nodded in confirmation. "Right now."

-

Harry walked into the common room to find Nicholas sitting in the green chair, his eyes fixed on the fire and a unemotional daze on his face. He barely looked up when Harry said his name.

"What?" Nicholas asked quietly. "You must think I've gone barmy for saying what I did and then leaving. What could the two of you possibly want?"

"To know what's wrong," Harry responded, sitting down. "Why d'you think you're a mistake?"

"Dunno," Nicholas replied flatly. "Wait—yes I do, because I overheard my parents say so. Why else do you think I'm at my grandmothers so much? I see it now."

"Well …" Harry looked around the common room, trying to think of something helpful to say. "Even if you were a mistake, wouldn't your mum and dad still love you?"

"Hardly," Nicholas snorted. "They're so proud of my big brother. They adore my sister." Now, Nicholas's contemptuous tone slowly dissolved into a confused one. "I really don't know what they think of me—other than being a mistake."

Harry bit his lip. All of what Nicholas was saying brought back a lot of unwanted memories of the Dursleys. They had made him feel useless and not wanted—possibly the same as Nicholas felt. So, Harry voiced those thoughts.

"My Muggle relatives, when I used to live with them, made me feel useless and unwanted. Is this how your parents make you feel sometimes?"

Nicholas didn't answer. Instead he said, "They're good people, honestly, and I love them … I dunno …."

"That's why you hate your sister," Draco said for the first time since he and Harry came into the common room. "Isn't it? You said your parents adore your sister, so that's why you hate her so much."

Nicholas turned his head to look at Draco, but his face remained impassive. Though he didn't say yes or no, Harry knew what the answer was.

"You seem to really look up to your brother," Harry stated. "Why don't you hate him, too?"

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Let's not talk about this anymore, 'kay? I think I'd rather talk to my parents about it, not you guys."

"Good," Draco breathed as Harry and Nicholas stood up. "I thought everything was going to get a little too emotional. I was about to leave."

Nicholas gave Draco a look. "Nobody would've stopped you."

Harry groaned. "Come off it."

"Fine," Nicholas agreed, glancing at Draco. "Sorry. I don't want this year to turn out like last year. Not talking about you and Harry fighting either, but that too, I suppose …"

Harry cleared his throat. He didn't really like talking about what happened last year, since he wasn't OK with the fact that he killed someone, even if that 'someone' was Evangeline Fraus.

"Sorry," Nicholas said, breaking Harry from his thoughts. "I forgot that you don't like to talk about it much."

"S'ok," Harry muttered. "I'm gotta go be somewhere. I'll see you guys later."

-

"I dunno," Harry finished his explanation to Severus. "I just don't think I can ever bring up the subject about … y'know. I think every time, if I did, I'd keep remembering that I killed somebody."

Severus exhaled. "Harry … you killed her out of self-defence. You didn't kill her purposely, did you?"

Harry slowly shook his head. "No I didn't. But …"

"You didn't kill Fraus on purpose," Severus repeated. "You did it out of self-defence."

"I still don't like the fact that I killed someone," Harry muttered.

"Stop thinking about it now. Just relax."

Harry let out a breath and sunk back into the couch, closing his eyes. While his eyes were still shut, he said, "Thanks for taking your time to talk to me, Dad. I think it helped … a bit."

"Any time," said Severus, feeling a bit exhausted over trying so hard to convince Harry that he wasn't a murderer. "Do you have any homework to do?"

"No," Harry responded, sitting up and opening his eyes. "Nicholas made Draco and I do it all yesterday."

"Sensible. Well … I suppose you want to go back to your friends?"

Harry looked at Severus, a new feeling washing him. It sounded like Severus didn't want Harry down here anymore. Did the man get tired of him already? Did he get tired of having Harry around?

Harry stared into Severus's eyes, trying to figure out what the Potions master meant, but Severus could clearly see hurt written in the boys green eyes. But how could he have hurt Harry? He was just considering what Harry wanted, which was something that he'd actually never done … with anybody.

"Sure, yeah," Harry said, nodding his head. "I just wanted to check on Syther … and, um, talk to you—but I'm done. Bye."

Harry started towards the door, but stopped when Severus said something.

"Or, if perhaps, you wanted to stay then I suppose there would be no harm in it …?"

The Potions professor sounded a bit confused, like he didn't know what to say.

"You know," Harry said slowly, feeling a little eruption of anger in the bottom of his stomach. "Did you ever think that maybe I enjoy being in your classes? That I like living with you, or that … that I like coming down here on the weekends to talk to you?"

Harry glanced at Severus over his shoulder, continuing. "But—." Harry was cut off as a whispery, malevolent and malicious voice said, "Come … come to me … let me rip you … let me tear you … let me kill you …."

It almost sounded like the air was saying it.

Harry turned around to stare at Severus. "What? What did you say?"

Severus was giving Harry a strange look as well. "Did you hear it, as well?"

Harry turned around again, not responding to the Potions Master, but listening more closely to see if he could hear the voice again. But, it was gone.

"I really have to go," Harry said, leaving Severus's chambers without another word.

-

Halloween had arrived at Hogwarts in the blink of an eye. The Great Hall was as festive as ever: the usual live bats, very large, carved pumpkins, and there was a rumour going throughout the school that Dumbledore had booked dancing skeletons for amusement.

Harry was chatting with Nicholas about the letter he was going to send his parents when Severus appeared behind Harry, requesting a talk outside of the Great Hall.

"Right now?" Harry asked, looking up. "Can't it wait?"

"You've been ignoring me for the past couple of days now, and there's something … else we need to discuss. It won't take long."

Harry knew that the something 'else' was about the strange voice that the both of them heard. Harry didn't even tell Draco or Nicholas about that yet.

So Harry agreed to have a quick conversation with the Potions master.

When they were outside of the Great Hall, neither one spoke. Eventually, however, Severus decided to be the first one to start the conversation.

"I suppose you thought that when I asked if you were going to go back to your friends that I was wanting to get rid of you. Well … you should know that I wasn't. I was simply asking."

"It did sound like you were trying to get rid of me," replied Harry. "But … did you know that I like spending time with you?"

"No, I didn't—"

Then, out of no where, there it was … the voice. "Rip … tear … kill …."

"Wha—?" Harry felt a chill as the voice floated through the air. He turned to look up at Severus. "D—did you hear it this time?"

A worried look crossed the Potion masters' face, but he didn't reply.

"So hungry … for so long …."

"There," Harry breathed, listening harder. But the voice was fading away into nothing.

"Kill … time to kill …."

Was it going to kill someone? But who?

Harry turned around to look at the Great Hall, expecting to see some teachers coming out because of the voice that had just sounded like it was threatening to kill. The doors remained closed.

"I don't think anybody else can hear it," Severus said in a low voice. "If everybody else could, people would be acting in the same, panicked way as last year when there was the Troll in the dungeon."

"Yeah," Harry said, his voice low, too. He didn't say anything else, since he was trying to hear the voice again, but the voice was getting harder and harder to hear. Who was it going to kill? Would he and Severus be able to stop it from doing just that?

Then, Harry ran. He didn't know whether or not Severus was following him, but he had to follow the voice.

"I smell blood … I SMELL BLOOD!"

Suddenly, he felt arms wrap around his upper body, stopping him from going any farther. Immediately he could tell that it was Severus. He struggled out of the mans grip, but it did no good.

"Let me go!" He screamed. "It's going to kill someone if you don't let me go!"

"Harry, what if that's exactly what it wants? For you to follow it? You could easily be going into a trap."

Harry struggled some more, then finally was free from Severus's grip, and he ran around the corner … to come to a deserted passage.

Harry looked around, trying to see if somebody was there. That's when he saw it on the wall: something was written in a red liquid.

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.

Harry felt something rise in his throat, and he had a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He took a step forward to get a better look at what was hanging off the wall: it was Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat.

Harry took numerous steps back, feeling dizzy and warm, like he had a fever. Harry didn't bother to look at Severus, who had appeared at his side. Instead he leaned against the man, closing his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a commotion, like hundreds of feet coming up the stairs. And, there probably was.

"Harry, what—"

It was Nicholas, his face pale and becoming sweaty as he looked at the writing on the wall, and the hanging, immobile cat hanging from the torch bracket.

"'The chamber of secrets has been opened,'" somebody read from the crowd. "'Enemies of the heir, beware.'"

Harry then realized it was Caoimhe Aureus.

"You'll be next, mudbloods," she spat.

Just then, Filch the caretaker arrived on the scene. His eyes scanned the students, then Harry, and then finally landed on the wall … and his cat.

"M—Mrs. Norris," Filch managed out, stepping forward. After a few moments of staring at the immobile cat, his eyes swerved onto Harry again. He opened his mouth to say something, but an old, elderly voice managed to speak first.

"What is going on?"

It was Dumbledore. Harry didn't know what to say, so he just stared at the Headmaster. Dumbledore read the message on the wall, then in a quiet voice said, "Severus, will you and Mr. Potter-Snape follow me? Argus, you as well …."

"My office is close," Lockhart immediately offered. "Please, do feel free …."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore replied. He detached the cat from the torch bracket and Lockhart, McGonagall, Severus, Harry and Filch all followed the Headmaster to Lockhart's office; the air behind them filling with whispers from the other students.

"I know they had something to do with it," Filch said, glaring at Harry.

Dumbledore paid no attention to Filch, but was muttering something underneath his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris gently with his wand. Finally, after a long moment of silence, Dumbledore announced that Mrs. Norris wasn't dead.

"She has been Petrified," Dumbledore explained. "However, I cannot say how."

Filch's teary eyes narrowed in another glare at Harry, but before the caretaker could say anything, Harry tried to explain.

"I nor Professor Snape had anything to do with this," he said. "I—we—I … just came across her. Er—Professor, did you hear anything in the Great Hall?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Except for the chatter amongst the students and staff? Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Harry replied quickly.

"So, why weren't you in the Great Hall, huh?" Filch asked accusingly. "Were you writing that message on the wall? Killing my Mrs. Norris?"

Severus was the one who came to Harry's rescue.

"I believe that's my fault," Severus explained coolly. "Not that it's any of your business, but Mr.—Harry—and I had an argument not too long ago. Is it wrong if I wanted to sort things out with my son in private?"

"Of course not, Severus," Dumbledore responded, his face having a warm look to it, even under the circumstances.

"We were walking. Just anywhere, and then we came across … well."

"Of course," Dumbledore said again.

"If you don't mind, Headmaster, both Harry and I are quite exhausted—."

"Understandably," Dumbledore said. "Do have a good night, Severus. Harry."

When Harry and Severus were outside of the office, Harry's shoulders sagged.

"Thank you, Dad—"

Severus gave his son a long, meaningful look. "Harry, we need to talk."

-

Severus then started interrogating Harry when they were in the chambers: mostly the questions were, "Why did you run off like that?"

"I—" Harry exhaled. "I keep hearing these voices. Didn't you hear them, too?"

"Yes, I do," Severus replied slowly. "But nobody else can hear them. Harry, do you think that perhaps, since nobody else can hear the voices that we are hearing, that it could be a snake talking?"

"What makes you suggest that?"

"Well, we are hearing voices that nobody else can hear. We both speak Parseltongue, a snake language. People who do not speak parseltongue can't understand ... Do you see where I'm getting at?"

"Yeah," Harry replied slowly. "I do ... and it could be. Dad, how about we don't tell anybody about the voices?"

"Why in Merlin's name not?" Severus demanded. "Did the voice not say it was going to kill? If, somehow, it does just that—"

"I know, but—," Harry paused. "I don't think we should tell anybody. We'd just sound loony."

"Loony or not, Harry, this is serious. The Headmaster should at least know."

"At least let's wait a while," Harry said. "I'm just not sure Dumbledore should know yet. I don't even know if I'm going to tell Nicholas and Draco yet. I should, since there's gonna be questions, but ... maybe, just for a while?"

"Fine," Severus finally said, reluctantly. "I won't tell anybody—just yet. I don't know why I'm agreeing to such a ridiculous thing—"

"Because you love me?" Harry interrupted.

Severus gave Harry a look. "—But, if this gets serious, then I will tell the Headmaster. You're not the only person that can hear it. Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" Harry replied happily, surprising not only himself by jumping up and latching his arms around Severus's neck.

Now … all he had to do was try to explain things to Nicholas and Draco …

-

A/N: Quite a long chapter; I wasn't expecting that. Anyway, now you see the reason behind Nicholas's hatred for his sister: Jealousy. The reason he doesn't hate his brother, by the way, is because he's older and not around much anymore … and because they were close.

Just thought I'd explain that. R and R!