Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, and under no circumstance do I claim ownership to the series.
Chapter 21: Hearing Disembodied Voices
A/N: I'm glad that you all liked all my Georgvanna (- I've got a ship name now!) in the last chapter :D Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter of the writing on the wall. Also, please do vote on my poll! I love you all, happy reading!
Ron waited patiently outside the Hospital Wing doors. Evanna was getting her final checkup from Madam Pomfrey and then she would be joining him (and Hermione, wherever she had run off to) to the Halloween Feast. It was supposed to be just as fantastic as the year before, but they were running very late at the moment. He supposed that he couldn't blame Madam Pomfrey for double and triple checking that Evanna had her memory back, but really she seemed fine to him. She hadn't forgotten or misplaced anything for the whole day!
Hermione dashed up to him just then, panting and holding a very thick book to her chest. "Sorry I'm late, I was — "
"In the library," Ron finished. "I know. But she hasn't gotten out yet either, so it's all right."
"Oh we're going to be very late," Hermione muttered.
"Thank you, captain obvious," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Maybe we'll arrive in time for pudding."
"I hope so, it's my favourite part."
Both heads whipped towards the doors, seeing Evanna standing in the open doorway with a huge grin on her face. She had her sketchbook under one arm with her pencils in hand. She began to walk towards the stairs, her friends hurrying to either side of her.
"So?" asked Hermione anxiously. "You've regained all your memories?"
"No, Madam Pomfrey sent me out here with no recollection of who I am," Evanna said in a deadpan. "Of course I've got my memory back!" Evanna flinched at Hermione's look of sadness. "Sorry, 'Mione. I love your concern, but sometimes you just ask the — "
". . . rip . . . tear . . . kill . . ."
Evanna stopped dead in her tracks. It was that voice again. The same one from Lockhart's office. The same one that had driven fear into her heart. The same on that made her lose her focus so completely that she was hit by a Bludger and given temporary memory loss.
Obviously, Hermione and Ron hadn't heard it though, as they gave Evanna confused and worried glances.
"Evanna? What's wrong?" Ron asked worriedly. "Do you remember who I am?"
"Yes, now shut up! I heard the voice again," Evanna muttered, looking up and down the passageway they were in for any signs of life. There didn't seem to be anybody except them.
". . . soo hungry . . . for so long . . ."
"What voice, Evanna?" Hermione asked.
"Listen!" Evanna urged, beginning to walk towards where she thought the voice was coming from. But . . . No . . . It couldn't be . . .
". . . kill . . . time to kill . . ."
It was moving upwards. What sort of creature was invisible, yet come also go through ceilings and walls? Evanna broke into a run, Ron and Hermione immediately following suite, dashing upstairs to where the voice was headed.
"Evanna! Where are you going?!"
Evanna didn't respond to the question, continuing to listen and follow the strange voice up the stairs.
". . . I smell blood. . . . I SMELL BLOOD!"
"It's going to kill someone!" Evanna cried, darting up a last flight of stairs, and along a deserted passage to see —
"Oh no."
The colour had drained from Evanna's face as she examined the scene before her. She felt faint. Leaning against a wall, she nearly slipped in a large puddle of water on the floor. Trying to calm herself, she looked back up at the scene.
Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, was stiff as a board with wide eyes, hung by her tail in a torch bracket. Above her, written on the wall in something that looked scarily similar to blood, were the words: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
"Evanna, we need to get out of here," Ron said, tugging on his friend's arm. He was looking nervously around, as if he thought someone was going to jump out and yell at them for killing Mrs. Norris (which is exactly what he thought).
"Right," Evanna said distractedly, still staring at the wall as Ron began to drag her away.
But it was too late. They could hear thousands of footsteps thundering towards them, signalling that the Halloween feast had just ended. Before the trio could get away from the crime scene, the corridor flooded with students of all ages, stopping almost unanimously in their tracks when they noticed the three second-years and the wall behind them. The silence made Evanna feel even more scared than the writing itself had.
Suddenly, the cold voice of Draco Malfoy ripped through the silence, shouting, "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" He was looking alive as he grinned evilly at the immobile cat.
Evanna caught George's eye in the crowd (it wasn't too hard; he and Fred were very tall) and could see horror on his face, matching hers perfectly. She turned her face back towards the wall. Who had done this?
"You!"
She had been so immersed in her own fear-filled thoughts that she hadn't heard Filch until he had grabbed her arm, yelling at her.
"You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll — "
"Argus!"
Dumbledore swept towards the caretaker and the horrified second-year. A number of other teachers followed him. Evanna looked up at the headmaster with fear etched clearly on her face. She hadn't done any of this! She couldn't have! Filch reluctantly released Evanna's arm (leaving a large red mark where he had been gripping her), and watched as Dumbledore pulled his cat from the torch bracket.
"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You too, Miss Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."
"My office is nearest, Headmaster — just upstairs — please feel free — " Lockhart offered.
"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore, beginning to walk forwards through the crowd, which had parted like the Red Sea.
Evanna, Ron, and Hermione exchanged nervous glances and followed Dumbledore to Gilderoy Lockhart's office.
That night, Evanna snuck down to the common room, as she so often did when she was deprived of the ability to sleep. But this time, instead of sketching or singing to herself, she just sat at a window seat and stared out at the moon. Tears were glistening on her cheeks.
George was in the common room for a similar reason. He, too, was sleep deprived, but he had wandered down to the common room because he had heard her crying. He crept to her side, also looking out at the night sky.
"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, glancing over to her.
Evanna jumped, having not heard him come downstairs. George gave her a tiny smile. She shrugged, saying, "Oh, nothing to worry about, it's just that a cat's been petrified, someone's graffitied the wall, claiming that the Chamber of Secrets (whatever the heck that is) has been opened, and I was nearly blamed for all of the above. In fact," she mused, "some people probably do blame me. I mean, I was the first on the scene, so I suppose it's a logical thought."
"Sorry," George muttered.
"And why are you apologizing?" Evanna asked, arching a crimson eyebrow. "It's not your fault that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"It's my fault you were hit with the Bludger."
"How? I just wasn't paying attention."
"I could've hit it away!"
"You weren't anywhere near it! It was next to impossible for you to get it!"
"I should've tried!"
"George, you trusted my ability — "
"I could see that you were out of focus — "
"It's not your fault that I was freaking scared!" Evanna cried, turning away from George.
"Scared?" George suddenly softened. "Why were you scared, Eva?"
Evanna smiled slightly at the nickname. "You'll think I'm crazy."
"Try me."
Evanna sucked in a breath. He looked so serious.
"Evanna, I swear that I won't laugh or whatever you're thinking I'm going to do," George whispered, taking her hand in his.
Evanna nodded and whispered back, "In my detention with Lockhart — you remember that, right? — I heard a voice. But nobody was there. It was just this disembodied voice. A horrible, bloodcurdling voice that sent shivers down my spine. I was afraid. I kept hearing it in my thoughts. I couldn't focus on anything, not even Quidditch." Evanna shuddered at the memory. "After I was hit with the Bludger, I actually forgot about it, until tonight. I heard it again. That's why I was first on the scene. I could hear it, and it was talking about killing someone. Then we found Mrs. Norris petrified . . . But nobody else was there." Evanna felt more tears slip down her face.
George pulled Evanna into his chest, hugging her tightly. "Eva, it's okay."
"No it's not!" Evanna cried. "Hearing voices isn't okay! It's not normal, not even in the wizarding world!"
George opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything comforting to tell the girl. Evanna sighed, pushing away from George. "I knew it. It won't be okay." George watched helplessly as she headed back up to her dorm, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.
Evanna couldn't help but notice how a majority of the school was avoiding her. For example, when she greeted Justin Finch-Fletchley politely in the corridors today, he darted away from her without even replying.
Of course, this wasn't her biggest concern. At the moment, she had to find Ron. Snape had kept her after class, and she was supposed to meet him in the library. On the way, she spotted Ginny, who was sitting on a bench, scribbling furiously in her diary. Evanna waved, but Ginny just slammed the book shut fearfully. Shrugging off the youngest Weasley's behavior (after all, the girl was still a bit star struck around her unfortunately), Evanna pushed open the library doors.
She could see Ron near the back, measuring out his History of Magic essay (the same essay that Evanna had already finished). But as she made her way over to him, she bumped into two tall ginger boys.
"Sorry, Vanna," said Fred.
"It's fine," Evanna said, squeezing past them, not making eye contact with one of them in particular. Fred noticed this, his eyes darting between his brother and Evanna. Had something happened between them?
After Evanna had gone off to talk to Ickle Ronniekins and Granger, Fred pulled George into a quiet corner. "What's with you and Vanna?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" George asked, refusing eye contact with his twin.
Fred rolled his eyes; George was such a bad liar. "I am your twin. I know you better than you know yourself. Don't lie to me, Georgie."
"Fine. Last night, we had a chat and . . . I said something that was meant to be comforting, but it wasn't. She's just a bit upset with me," George admitted. At Fred's raised eyebrow, George hastily added, "I'm sure the whole thing'll blow over soon. I mean, this is Evanna Potter we're talking about!"
Fred didn't look convinced, but didn't push the matter either.
History of Magic was easily the most boring class. Professor Binns was the only ghost teacher, and he just droned on and on while the majority of the class slept. Evanna had just been sketching out a wall with a bloody message and stiff cat beside it, recalling Halloween night, when something that had never happened in this class before happened.
Hermione had raised her hand.
Now, Hermione was a notorious know-it-all, so raising her hand wasn't surprising, in any other class. But in History of Magic, even Hermione didn't interrupt the ghost.
Professor Binns seemed just as surprised as Evanna was. "Miss — er — ?"
"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.
The whole class suddenly woke up. This was the topic that everyone had wanted to learn since Halloween, but Hogwarts: A History had a waiting list so long that it would take months for anyone to find out anything.
"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers — "
He stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.
"Miss Grant?"
"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"
"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale — "
He glanced around at the class, looking surprised to find that they were hanging on his every word. Evanna was positively that neither when he was dead nor alive did he get attention like this.
"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "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."
There was an excited silence, as the second-years waited hungrily for more.
"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," Professor Binns said, as if trying to get rid of the awe that had plagued the classroom. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."
Hermione's hand was back in the air.
"Sir — what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"
"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.
The class exchanged nervous looks.
"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."
"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "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," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing — "
"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it — "
"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore — "
"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't — " began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.
"That will do," he said sharply. "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 solid, believable, verifiable fact!"
Evanna took a deep breath, looking around the classroom. Most people had returned to their naps, but Evanna's head was spinning. There was too much to think about, too much that made sense and too much that didn't. She actually resorted to gripping her head to try and stop the thought swirling around her mind. She didn't want to be involved in this mystery. Last year had enough adventure for her. If only she didn't have such a naturally inquisitive nature . . .
A/N: Eh, I'm not super proud of that last bit, but whatever. How did YOU think of this chapter?
Please review and vote on my poll! ~Jayce