Chapter Eleven: October 31st – Mid December, 1992, Hogwarts
I sat in the Common Room, waiting for them to come back. Neville sat next to me in an armchair, frowning in contemplation. Fred and George had gone off with Lee Jordan to discuss the events themselves.
They finally entered the Common Room, and I gave them no choice but to talk to me when I walked up to them and stood in front of them hesitantly.
"I'm sorry I got you into trouble, Harry, and I'm sorry for being so disrespectful, Hermione," I stated calmly, "I want to be friends again."
Harry smiled a very weak smile, "Alright, alright, this has gone on long enough."
"He's right," Hermione smiled too, also weakly, "Do you want to hear what happened?"
"Of course!" I nodded eagerly and we went back to where Neville was still sitting, each of us taking one of the three remaining armchairs.
"Well, during my detention with Lockhart, back the first week of term, I heard these voices," Harry began, "Professor Lockhart, however, couldn't hear them. They were talking about killing someone, so I got rather freaked out."
"Well, yeah," I frowned, looking at him apologetically.
"It didn't happen again, though, until tonight. We had gone to Nearly Headless Nick's 500th Deathday party, because I had promised him I would. He was feeling a little down for lots of reasons and he mentioned the party and I felt obligated to say I would go," Harry sighed.
"Which he instantly regretted but I made him go anyway," Hermione smiled teasingly. Harry shook his head in sadness.
"Anyway, it was a horrific party and so we started to leave. When we entered the corridors, though, I heard the voice again. So I followed it down to the second floor, and you obviously know what I saw," Harry frowned.
"It really wasn't us who'd done it, but we all went back to Lockhart's office. First off – and you'll be right pleased with this – Professor Snape snapped at Lockhart and basically implied he was a fraud. Hagrid thinks he's one, too," Hermione laughed.
"Most excellent," I rolled my eyes, "Anyone know why the idiot was hired?"
"Well, Hagrid says he's the only man who'd take the job – as in, everyone thinks its cursed," Harry sighed, "So I'm afraid we're stuck with him."
"Greeaaaaat," I over pronounced, "Continue with the story."
"Well, I found out the other day that Filch was taking these Kwikspell courses, because he's a Squib – the child of a witch and a wizard who can't do magic themselves, sort of a reverse muggle-born," Harry explained, "He was furious that I found out but Nick saved me by pretending to be Peeves. Anyway, so Filch immediately assumed it was me because his cat was petrified and he thought I would attack him for being a Squib."
"Petrified?" Neville asked.
"Mrs. Norris isn't dead," Hermione explained, "She's just been frozen, though no one has any idea why."
"So we have no idea who did this, but everyone in the school's going to be thinking it's me," Harry groaned, "But the teachers, except for Snape of course, think I'm innocent."
"Well there's that at least," I paused, "Anyone have any idea what to do next?"
"There was a lot of water on the floor, and there's a girl's bathroom nearby," Harry paused, "Hermione said something about…"
"Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom?" I looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows, "Must we deal with her?"
"I think we have to," Hermione sighed. I nodded mournfully.
Ginny, at that moment, scurried past us, walking to the girls' staircase. She seemed even shier than usual, wrapped in her cloak and hiding her face from the rest of us. I watched her run away with a frown.
"I'm just confused about these voices," Harry sighed, bringing me back to the situation at hand.
"Definitely never a good thing," Neville agreed mournfully.
Over the next few days, the attack was all anyone ever talked about. I hadn't seen Hermione in a while and Harry explained that she was in the library almost constantly outside of class, which I wouldn't really consider unusual except our homework load was unusually light.
As we worked on some History of Magic essays, of which mine was not going very well at all, Hermione sat over next to us with a grunt and a sigh.
"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," Hermione groaned, "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."
"Why do you want it?" Harry asked curiously.
"The same reason everyone else wants it, to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione explained.
"What's that?" I asked, frowning.
"That's just it. I can't remember. And I can't find the story anywhere else…" Hermione sighed, looking over at our pathetic homework attempts.
"Do you three need help?" she finally sighed again to my fairly large puppy dog expression I was sending. Neville immediately thrust his essay forward with a too-innocent smile. The twins had taught him well.
"Yes please," I begged, handing her my essay as well. Hermione helped us finish up the essay just before the class started, lecturing us on actually paying attention in that class the entire time. But Professor Binns was the most boring teacher of all time – of all time. And as I settled in that class I prepared myself for my usual nap.
But then Hermione raised her hand, causing all of us to look at her in complete shock. Professor Binns looked as shocked as any of us and didn't really seem to remember her name as he called on her, saying "Miss… er…?"
"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione responded clearly.
Dean Thomas looked up in shock, Siobhan jumped a little in her seat, Lavender awoke from her nap and Neville leaned forward eagerly. Professor Binns, however, looked rather disgruntled.
"My subject is History of Magic, Miss Granger. I deal with facts, not myths and legends," he cleared his throat to continue with the rest of the lesson when Hermione raised her hand again.
"Miss Grant?" he asked again.
"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"
Professor Binns looked absolutely shocked as he responded, "Well, yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale…"
Everyone was looking at him eagerly, though, with more attention than I felt he had ever received in his class in his life. He looked around in amazement before sighing in defeat.
"Oh very well. Let me see, the Chamber of Secrets… You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago – the precise date is uncertain – by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution… For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school… Reliable historical sources tell us this much. But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."
You could have heard a pin drop in the room and Professor Binns looked completely annoyed.
"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," Binns snapped, "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, but the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."
Hermione raised her hand again and continued, "Sir, what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"
"There is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," Professor Binns explained.
Harry looked over at me in shock and I shook my head fearfully.
"I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no Chamber and no monster," Binns snapped.
"But sir," Seamus interjected, "If the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"
"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," Binns responded angrily, "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing –"
"But wouldn't you have to use really rare Dark magic to open it?" I asked in confusion.
"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Jones," Binns snapped, "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore…"
"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't…" Dean Thomas suggested.
"That will do," Binns interrupted, "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to slid, believable, verifiable fact!"
I turned back to my desk for more naptime.
As we left the classroom, Harry looked rather downtrodden. It wasn't nightmare face, but it was definitely close to it as we walked through the hallway.
"I never imagined it was Salazar Slytherin who started all this pure-blood stuff," I commented casually, "I wouldn't be in his house for all the money in the world. If the Sorting Hat had even tried to put me there I would have muted the damn thing and shouted out Gryffindor myself."
Hermione and Neville nodded next to me but Harry remained sullenly silent. I looked over at him curiously but he refused to meet my gaze.
As we continued to walk, many a person sort of skidded around Harry in fear – Siobhan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Michael Corner just from our year.
"Why are they all acting so weird?" Hermione asked in amazement as a first year looked up at Harry, squeaked and ran away.
"They think I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," Harry responded, but he sounded rather defeatist.
"That's absolute nonsense," I rolled my eyes before turning to Hermione, "Do you really think there's a Chamber?"
"I don't know… Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be… well… human," Hermione murmured in worry.
We suddenly appeared on the second floor and in front of the message. We looked around the area and silently agreed to scout for clues. Harry began crawling around on the floor and found scorch marks there, and Hermione called for us to come to where she was pointing up at the windowpane. A trail of little spiders was walking up through the window.
I had a flashback to a large spider appearing out of nowhere in the forest and I let out a violent shiver.
"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" Hermione asked in amazement.
"No, have you Maggie?" Harry asked me.
I shook my head, my lips pursed together in fear.
"What is it?" Neville asked, his voice turning to concern as he walked up to me and looked at me worriedly. He then saw the spiders and, presumably remembering my ankle injury, wrapped an arm around my shoulder comfortingly.
"I just… recently had an encounter with… an extraordinarily large spider in the woods," I swallowed thickly, "And I have managed to not think about that until now."
"Oh," Harry murmured, "I'm sorry."
"It's alright, let's just… get out of here," I begged, stepping farther away from the window.
"Wasn't there water on the floor?" Hermione asked, looking around as we stepped away from the window together.
"It was level with the door," Harry agreed, pointing to the door to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"Let's take a look, shall we?" I suggested, eagerly walking away from the spiders.
"But its a girl's toilet," Harry protested. Neville looked conflicted as well, but the look that Hermione and I gave them both clearly persuaded him.
"Oh fine," Harry groaned. We went inside the toilet together quietly, trying to not attract attention to ourselves.
Hermione walked over to the end of the row of stalls and called out, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"
Moaning Myrtle, looking depressed as always, floated up into the air and eyed Harry and Neville suspiciously.
"This is a girl's bathroom," Myrtle commented, "They're not girls."
"No," Hermione agreed, "I just wanted to show them how – er – nice it is in here."
"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed.
"What are you whispering?" Myrtle demanded, staring at him.
"Nothing… We wanted to ask…" Harry began.
"I wish people would stop talking behind my back! I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead –" Myrtle shrieked.
"Myrtle, we're not talking about you behind your back, Harry only…" I sighed.
"No one's talking about me behind my back! That's a good one! My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!" Myrtle howled.
"We wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately, because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween," Hermione interjected.
"Did you see anyone near here that night?" Neville begged
"I wasn't paying attention. Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm – that I'm –"
"Yeah," I muttered. Myrtle let out a sob and dove into a toilet, causing a frightful splash.
"Well that was almost cheerful," I sighed, "Let's get out of here."
We left the bathroom and managed to sneak away before Percy Weasley saw us, sneaking over to the Common Room to get started on our charms homework. I was banging my head repeatedly on the table as I tried to remember the correct theory as Hermione slammed her book shut.
"Who can it be, really?" she whispered, "Who would want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"
"Pick a Slytherin, any Slytherin," I muttered.
"But it would have to be someone so completely bent on it that they'd do anything, someone who is so ruthless, so cold-hearted…" Hermione continued.
"Alright, who is the penultimate Slytherin? Someone so truly terrible they'd do this sort of thing?" I asked.
"What about Malfoy?" Harry suggested.
Hermione and I looked at him skeptically.
"Harry, mate, do you really think Malfoy could be the heir? Really?" I sighed.
"But look at his family, the whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough," Harry insisted, "They could have been handing down the key for centuries."
"Well, I suppose it's possible…" Hermione responded.
"How would you even prove it, Harry?" Neville asked.
"There might be a way," Hermione began, "But it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking bout fifty school rules, I expect… What we'd need to do is get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."
"That seems like it'll end well," Neville frowned. The sarcasm was new for him, so Hermione and Harry seemed startled, though I was pleased that the twins had rubbed off on him so much.
"All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion," Hermione explained, moving past her shock and back onto business.
"Isn't that the thing Snape mentioned a few weeks ago?" I asked.
"It transforms you into someone else," Hermione nodded, "Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."
"It sounds a bit dodgy, though," Harry paused, "What if we're Slytherins forever?"
"It wears off after a while," Hermione explained, "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section…"
"How could we convince a teacher we only wanted it to read up on theory or something and not actually trying to brew anything?" I rolled my eyes.
"A teacher would have to be really, really thick to fall for it…" Harry sighed.
We all looked at each other as we came to the same conclusion at the same time.
"You'd better ask him, Hermione. You're the most polite one," Neville stated calmly.
"You could do it, too, Neville," Hermione protested.
"Nah, not only are you polite, but you also are doing well in his class. He loves you," Neville smirked.
"He does not – "
"Just do it," Harry laughed, "Maggie certainly can't and I'd better not anyway."
"Fine," Hermione snapped, picking up her books in anger, "But he does not love me."
Harry, Neville and I looked at each other and continued to chuckle.
After our next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Harry, Neville and I waited outside the door together for Hermione. Hermione came outside rolling her eyes.
"He didn't even look at the book we wanted," she sighed, "But I've got the permission form. Let's get to the library."
We reached the library and Madam Pince, after much questioning, retrieved the book for us. We scampered back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and sat together inside, Harry looking supremely uncomfortable as we did so. Neville looked less so, which was strangely out of character for the two of them. Hermione had the book open and was thumbing though it anxiously.
"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," she murmured, "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxed, and knotgrass… well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves… Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn – don't know where we're going to get that – shredded skin of a boomslang – that'll be tricky, too – and a bit of whomever we're changing into…"
"A bit? Of who we're changing into?" I looked at her in confusion.
"A hair will do," Hermione waved off my concern with her hand.
"The amount of stealing we're going to have to do," Neville frowned, "I mean… this sounds like stuff that's in Snape's stores."
Hermione closed the book sharply, "Well, if you want to chicken out, then fine. I don't want to break the rules, but you know I think threatening muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in…"
"All right, all right," I sighed, "How long's it going to take?"
"Since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days… it'll be ready in about a month, if we can get the ingredients," Hermione explained with a defeated sigh.
"A month!" Harry and I shouted in shock. Hermione glared at us and we both sighed in defeat.
The next day was the first Quidditch match of the season. I climbed up into the stands, nestled in with a crowd of fellow second-years. It was nice to know that Malfoy wouldn't be bothering us in the stands, but at the same time I was terrified about what he would do to Harry in the air.
The players all rose into the air and Harry rose highest of all, trying to look around for the snitch. George flew by directly over the Gryffindor stands and swooped over my head, causing everyone around me to shriek and duck in terror.
"WEASLEY!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. He laughed and waved before heading back into the stadium.
"Honestly," I muttered. Hermione was laughing and Neville looked rather disgruntled.
"Seriously, though, Maggie," Hermione paused, "Sorry about ditching you for so long."
"Oh it's alright, Hermione," I sighed, "I just have a lot of trouble controlling my anger around Lockhart."
"I don't blame you," Hermione scowled, "The man is a racist. He only loves me because he found out I was Jewish. I'm willing to bet ten galleons that if I was Muslim he'd ignore me."
"Reasons to convert, by me," I declared cheerfully. Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement.
I looked over and my eyes followed Harry as he flew around. He appeared to be trying to dodge something, and I saw that a bludger was following him quite persistently, something that really didn't happen much in the game. No matter what Fred and George did, the bludger kept coming back, and the rest of the players were rather undefended from the other bludger.
"Well, that's a problem," Hermione commented, looking terrified despite the lightness of her tone of voice.
The team called a time out and seemed to be discussing something rather angrily down on the field. Finally, they all went back up into the air, and neither Fred nor George was trying to protect Harry from the bludger. I felt myself grip the back of the seat in front of me as the ball kept coming back to attack Harry again and again, grimacing in terror.
Harry dove past Malfoy at one point, almost knocking him off his broom, clearly chasing after the snitch as that idiotic bludger followed closely on his tail. He was hit in the arm by the bludger and then he managed to, somehow, grab the glittering golden snitch before crashing into the ground.
I looked at Hermione and Neville and whispered, "Let's go." Ron followed us as we all ran out onto the field. Harry had fainted on the ground, but Lockhart was already there before we managed to get there.
"Not to worry, Harry," Lockhart reassured as he came to, "I'm about to fix your arm."
"No!" Harry shouted, "I'll keep it like this, thanks…"
Harry looked to be in terrible pain and we all murmured anxiously, Colin Creevey taking incessant photos in the background.
"Lie back, Harry," Lockhart insisted, "It's a simple charm I've used countless times…"
"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry begged.
"He should really, Professor," I heard Oliver Wood insist, "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say…"
Fred and George were trying to wrestle the idiotic bludger into a box with extreme difficulty.
"Stand back," Lockhart insisted.
"No – don't –" Harry begged, but Lockhart had shouted an incantation and magic went to his arm. It suddenly became limp and jelly like, almost deflated as it lay limp at his side.
"Ah," Lockhart muttered as Colin clicked away, "Yes, well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing – ah, Miss Granger, Miss Johnson, Mr. Longbottom, would you escort him? – and Madam Pomfrey will be able to – er – tidy you up a bit."
As I helped Harry up, I saw immediately what had happened. Lockhart had removed all the bones in his arm.
Madam Pomfrey was furious, giving him some Skele-Gro to force him to regrow the bones overnight. The potion was, apparently, disgusting as he coughed and spluttered trying to get it down.
"How is he still at this school?" I grunted in annoyance as I helped Harry get into his pyjamas with Neville, Hermione looking away up at the ceiling.
"I'm willing to bet he's the only person who would take the Dark Arts job," Hermione replied shrewdly, "It's cursed, isn't it? I mean no one's lasted very long for a while according to Hagrid."
"I'd say they should let Snape teach it, but that would probably make me wet myself," Neville muttered in annoyance as we got Harry back onto the bed.
"I want to know who fixed the Bludger," I sighed.
"Malfoy, I'm guessing," Hermione muttered darkly.
"We'll have to ask him when we take the Polyjuice Potion," Harry grunted, "I hope it tastes better than Skele-Gro…"
"Slytherin-a-la-mode? You've got to be joking," I shook my head.
The rest of the Gryffindor team then entered, showering Harry in cakes, snacks, and pumpkin juice and talking and laughing loudly. However, Madam Pomfrey kicked us out, and we all trudged up together to the Common Room, where Fred, George and I developed an elaborate scheme to prank Malfoy the next day.
When I woke up, Hermione was standing anxiously by my bed. It was a Sunday and I always spent Sundays sleeping in.
I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my head, "Hermione, go away, I need more sleep…"
"You really don't," she whispered, "Another person's been attacked."
I sat up wildly in bed, "Wait, wait – who?"
"Colin Creevey," she continued anxiously, "He's been petrified."
"You're kidding," I stood up and started getting dressed, "Does Harry know?"
"Well, since Colin is currently petrified in a bed not too far from him, I'd say so," Hermione shook her head sadly.
"Jesus. More people are going to keep getting attacked. We have to make the potion as quickly as possible," I urged as I threw on a baggy flannel shirt.
"The problem is schoolwork. We have plenty of it,' Hermione sighed, "That on top of timing and it's going to be difficult to do at best."
"But we have to, right?" I turned to her desperately as I pulled my hair into a ponytail, "We can't just let this happen."
"Of course not," Hermione nodded fiercely, before pausing, "If we get caught, though…"
"Then we get caught," I sighed, "Hermione, you can't keep hiding from this. I know hiding worked for you in grammar school, but –"
"But what?" Hermione snapped, "I kept my head down, I didn't get picked on."
"This is bigger than getting picked on," I urged, "You're thirteen. The wizarding world is shite," I hissed under my breath, "And if we don't work to fight the shite, we're just living in it."
Hermione looked at me before sighing, "You're right. I know you're right. Honestly, I've known you were right since I found out about House Elves. This is more than just racism and anti-muggle born prejudice."
"Exactly," I nodded fervently, "So if we get caught, at the least, we've done the right thing."
Hermione grinned, "Between not being afraid of breaking the rules and not being afraid of established power structures, I'm likely to get arrested before I'm an adult."
"Life goals," I laughed as we left the dormitory.
"You've seen Harry today?" I asked as we ran down the steps and out of the Common Room.
"Yes," Hermione paused, "And wait until you hear this…" She explained as we ran down to the Hospital Wing about Dobby, him closing the barrier, his rogue bludger, and how the Chamber had been opened before.
"Well, bullocks," I groaned, "We have got to talk to Malfoy, and soon."
We ran to the Hospital Wing, grabbed Harry after his final check-up, and headed out to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. We hadn't run into Neville on the way, so I sprinted out to the Greenhouses to get him, and dragged him up to the bathroom.
"Maybe Lucius Malfoy opened the chamber when he was at school, and now he's got Draco doing it again. But I did hope that Dobby would have told you what the monster in the chamber was while he was at it, because I can't for the life of me figure out how no one's spotted the thing," I sighed when I got back, facing Harry and panting a little from all the running. Neville sat down on the tiled floor, panting much more than I in exhaustion, glaring at me with annoyance.
"Maybe the monster can make itself invisible, or disguise itself. I've heard of all sorts of vanishing animals," Hermione nodded vigorously.
"And how are we supposed to fight such a thing when we find it?" I rolled my eyes.
"Maybe your archery skills will finally come in handly!" Harry joked.
"Oh god. We're doomed," Neville fake-gasped. I hit him upside the head in annoyance.
"But seriously, hopefully we can just reveal the person controlling the monster, and leave whatever it is be for the rest of its days," Harry sighed.
"I definitely feel comfortable having a dirty great beast living in the castle, that seems like a sound plan," I muttered, watching the cauldron bubble and glurp before me.
As December rolled around, however, we were faced with a grand problem. We still needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, and the only way that could be retrieved was through Snape's private stores.
"What we need," Hermione began, "Is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need during Potions."
"I think I should do the stealing," I paused, "Snape would make sure Harry was expelled and I know the layout of his office the best."
"That's true," Hermione sighed, "And you two do get along better than him and any other student."
"Shush," I whispered, "If he founds out I've told anyone about that he'll murder Harry."
"Me?" Harry looked at me in shock.
"It would be more satisfying than murdering me," I paused.
"At least he wouldn't murder me," Neville shrugged his shoulders.
"I've tried to get him to stop bullying you," I groaned, "I'm not saying I'm the hugest fan of the guy, only that he owes my mum big time, so he gives me biscuits. But yes, of course I'll do it."
So in potions class that week, we were working on our Swelling Solutions. I had taken a cauldron near the door, next to Hermione, who was trying to distract Snape from the fact that Harry on the opposite side of the classroom had a Filibuster firework. Neville, whose potions skills were abysmal to begin with, was actually screwing up on purpose, to make sure that Snape barely went over to Harry's and my workstation. Between Hermione constantly asking to talk to Snape and Neville constantly groaning in distress, the distraction was working perfectly.
Snape was facing away from both Harry and me and there wasn't going to be another time to do it. I nodded at him and he let the firework free, aiming it at Goyle's cauldron. It landed right on target and I managed to slip away, scampering up to Snape's office.
I looked around wildly as I heard the screams and chaos of the classroom. I finally pinpointed the jar of boomslang skin and took enough out, stuffing it into my robes. I then found the vial of bicorn horn and took enough of that into one of my own vials, placing it with the boomslang skin. I then peeped out of the office door and watched as Snape, facing away from it, had the students get into a line to mitigate the effects of the exploded potion.
I snuck back down and stuffed the ingredients into my bag, standing near Hermione quietly. Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and pulled the dead firework from it, the entire class falling deathly silent.
"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape murmured in a deathly quiet voice, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."
Harry was clearly trying to look innocent and the bell couldn't have come sooner. I gave the ingredients to Hermione and we ran to Myrtle's bathroom, her immediately stirring furiously.
"The potion will be done in two weeks," she declared proudly.
"Snape can't prove it was you," I reassured Harry.
"He'll still do something horrific to me," Harry groaned, sliding against the bathroom wall.
"I bloody hate that class," Neville muttered, "I wish he had been hit with the exploding potion."
A week later, it was announced that a Dueling Club was being started for the students of the school. Having finished the book on Dueling Harry had gotten me for Christmas last year, I insisted upon going, and Hermione, Neville and Harry agreed that it would be better to attend the club than to not.
"I wonder who will be teaching us? I heard Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young – maybe it'll be him," Hermione suggested eagerly as we all filed into the Great Hall, which had the tables gone and a large stage set up in front.
"As long as it's not…" Harry began, but groaned in horror as Lockhart came up onto the stage, wearing purple robes and accompanied by Snape.
"Great," I groaned with Harry, "I know more than this buffoon about dueling and I haven't even ever done it."
"Well this is pointless!" Neville muttered in my ear and I laughed out loud. The twins and Ron walked up to us, all three with fairly similar expressions of disgust at the proceedings on their faces.
"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called, "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions – for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart gestured. I managed to meet Snape's gaze and I grimaced for him. His head gave an imperceptible nod of agreement as Lockhart continued, "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry – you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
I heard Ron mutter to Harry next to me, "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?"
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other, Snape wearing the face of pure loathing and hatred he usually reserved for Harry or Neville. Neville next to me look right afraid of it even though it wasn't being directed at him. Despite the confidence he had gained from the end of last year, and from hanging out with the twins, he still had some weak spots when it came to certain individuals.
The two of them raised their wands like swords in front of them, the correct dueling position. However, Lockhart wasn't gripping his wand correctly at all- he was gripping it in a way that didn't allow any wrist movement, and would keep him locked in position. I wanted to call him out on it so much, but I didn't feel like getting into trouble today.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course," Lockhart explained.
"Um…" I laughed quietly and Harry grinned with me.
"One – Two – Three!"
Snape cried out Expelliarmus!, the classic disarming spell. Lockhart didn't say anything of all and was blasted off his feet, his wand flying out of his hand and into Snape's.
The Slytherins burst into cheers and I, the lone Gryffindor to do so, began clapping. Even Harry looked moderately pleased. Hermione looked distressed but I pointedly ignored this.
"Well, there you have it!" Lockhart declared as he managed to get back to his feet, "That was a Disarming Charm – as you see, I've lost my wand – ah, thank you, Miss Brown – yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy – however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"
Snape looked angrier than I had ever seen before.
"Enough demonstrating!" Lockhart squeaked, "I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape if you'd like to help me…"
Snape walked over to us and sneered down at Harry.
"Time to split up the friends, I believe," he snarled, "Johnson, you partner Miss Parkinson. Potter, you go with Mr. Malfoy. Longbottom, you can go with Mr. Crabbe. And you, Miss Granger, you can partner Miss Bulstrode."
I faced Pansy angrily; feeling like Snape knew I was the one to have stolen from his private stores. Pansy sneered at me with her pug, tanned face and I lifted my wand. No one but Harry really knew that I had read a whole book on the subject of dueling and practiced the spells in my room with him, however, play dueling your brother and dueling an evil little Slytherin were completely different things.
"Face your partners!" Lockhart called, "And bow!"
I bowed sarcastically, flaying my arms out and my sides and winking at her. Pansy sneered and barely lowered herself.
"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted, "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents – only to disarm them! We don't want any accidents – one… two… three-"
I immediately stepped forward and shouted, "Locomotor Mortis!"
Pansy's legs locked together and she fell to the floor just as she shouted "Locomotor Wibbly!" I felt my legs turn to jelly as I also fell to the ground. I somehow managed to get to her, seeing my chance, and plucked one of her hairs from the back of her head.
"OW!" she shrieked, "What was that for?"
"Expelliarmus!" I shouted instead of replying, and her wand flew into my hand. I beamed cheekily at her as Lockhart shouted "STOP! STOP!"
"Finite Incantatem!" Snape shouted above the roar.
Everyone was in tatters around us. I managed to stand up and see that Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was clearly in pain, with their wands on the floor. Harry leapt forward and helped pull Millicent off and I helped pull Hermione away, both of us grunting with the effort.
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," Lockhart declared, "Let's have a volunteer pair – Longbottom and Crabbe, how about you –"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape sneered, "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville blushed horrifically and I reached over to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Snape continued, "How about Malfoy and Potter?"
"Excellent idea!" Lockhart enthused, helping the two of them up onto the stage. He began muttering to Harry, wiggling his wand around in the air rather crazily before it dropped to the floor. Snape also whispered something to Malfoy. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and glared at the stage angrily.
I wanted to shout, remember, Harry, PROTEGO! But I knew no one would appreciate that much.
"Three – Two – One- GO!" Lockhart shouted. Malfoy immediately raised his wand and shouted, "Serpensortia!" The end of his wand exploded and a long black snake fell out and onto the floor, causing the screams of many of the students.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap… I thought anxiously.
"Don't move, Potter," Snape reassured lazily, "I'll get rid of it."
Don't say anything, don't talk to the snake, don't say anything… I begged internally. He didn't look at me, but I still shook my head madly at Harry as Hermione and Neville looked at me in confusion.
"Allow me!" Lockhart shouted. He brandished his wand and there was a loud bang, but the snake simply flew into the air and fell to the floor near Justin Finch-Fletchley.
"No!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as Harry walked towards the snake. Everyone looked at me in shock, and Harry grimaced apologetically, though not looking at me. "Harry, don't!" I furthered desperately, raising my wand to stop him.
Harry stepped forward the snake, though, and I knew it was too late. He started hissing, and though I knew Harry would never do such a thing, it sounded like he was encouraging the snake. I buried my face in my hands and groaned as the entire hall looked at him in terror and anger. Justin himself demanded what Harry was playing at.
Everyone was silent and apprehensive as Snape vanished the snake. I managed to grab Harry and pull him out of the Great Hall, Hermione, Ron, and Neville following us close behind as we reached the Common Room.
"Harry, you know you're not supposed to talk to snakes!" I shouted at him once we got inside, "We said that was the dumbest idea ever and –"
"You're a parselmouth? Harry, why haven't you told anyone?" Ron demanded angrily.
"I'm a what?" Harry asked in shock.
"You can talk to snakes," Hermione clarified.
"It's really, really rare," Neville mumbled.
"He's been able to his whole life," I clarified, looking at them in confusion, "I mean, we've known about it and we knew none of the rest of the people in our family could, so we just agreed to not mention it… it's saved our skins many times in the forest outside of our house…"
"This is really bad," Ron groaned.
"Why is it so horrible? If I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin…"
"Harry, I told you, it never sounds like what you think it sounds," I insisted, "It sounded like you were egging the snake on."
"I don't know how I speak it or even what it sounds like…" Harry groaned.
"But it's so bad, Harry," Hermione sighed.
"If I hadn't, Justin would be joining the Headless Hunt right now and…"
"Look, it's bad because being a parselmouth is what Salazar Slytherin is famous for. He could speak to snakes, too. And now everyone in the school is going to think you're his descendant," Hermione explained calmly, though her voice was still a little shaky.
"But… but I'm not," Harry insisted.
"He lived a thousand years ago," Hermione murmured, "For all we know, you could be."
Neville looked fearfully at Harry, a facial expression I hadn't seen on his face in a while.
"Look, even if Harry is the heir," I snapped angrily, "We all know he isn't doing this to students."
"Of course not," Hermione, Ron, and Neville said in unison.
"Then shut up. Ron, go do some damage control with the Gryffindors. Guys, let's go," I grabbed Harry, Neville and Hermione and dragged them to the bathroom.
"Hermione, we have to get going on this potion. Brew," I ordered calmly. Neville and Harry looked at me in amazement.
"We have to find out who is bloody doing this before there's a figurative witchhunt for Harry," I snapped, "Any objections?"
They both shook their heads and I sat on the floor of the bathroom, staring at the goop pensively.
"Probably should have told us about the talking to snakes thing," Hermione sighed, stirring the cauldron carefully.
"I have a lot of trouble telling people things I'm ashamed of," Harry responded, and from his tone of voice I knew that he had more secrets than I could even imagine.