Alright, sorry for the delay, I had a headache.

Anyway, here's today's chap ^^

Enjoy guys

Chapter 21: Down to Christmas time

"Alright, I've got the books."

Hermione had just put on the table Neville was working on three heavy books. Flushed, the young girl apologized for the mess she had done on the new essay Neville was beginning to write. The boy only shrugged, not at all bothered by it: the parchment used to be some lines for DADA, that is to say some unimportant lesson.

"What have you got there?" wondered instead Neville, pointing the books Hermione had brought and grimacing at a familiar yet nasty book, A Nature's nobility. "What do you ever want to know what's in that thing?" hissed the boy with clear distaste. "You can ask Bael on these things too. I think he is more up to date with all the genealogy ..."

Hermione frowned.

"Only on recent history. He told me yesterday he did not know much about the beginning of many families. It was too much to take into account so he had limited his knowledge to a few families."

Neville snorted. Bael's notion of a few families probably was around 80% of the wizarding families. He could bet his newest plant on it.

"Okay. And why do you want to know about ancestral lines?"

"I figured I might find something about Slytherin's heir."

"I doubt it." Muttered Ron.

The boy had just erupted from behind Hermione. The witch sent an annoyed glare toward the boy.

"Don't look at me like that. You've already went through those books" – Ron pointed the three books and a small pile the size of a sofa Neville had not seen before hand – "with Bael. You've exhausted him, too."

The last friend, Bael, was snoring on a sofa, buried under a pile of books. Funnily enough, his hair kept on shifting ever so slightly from black to white.

"I know … but still. I find it hard to believe we still haven't found the heir. I thought it could have been Malfoy … but Bael seems oddly protective of him."

Neville humphed and let a chair for Ron. Hermione was still standing, opening a few books here and there.

"Well, the git is his cousin. From what he told us, they used to be close. I mean, their mothers are very close, so it's not surprising …"

Ron laughed.

"I don't define throwing levitating curses on your cousin's back as being protective." He said.

Hemione bit her lips.

"Alright. On his own weird way, if you prefer it."

The two boys nodded.

"But you're right. Do you reckon his family might know more about the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Ron, "because, you know … They've all been in Slytherin for ages now."

Neville shrugged once again.

"No idea. And honestly, I don't think Bael would try to pry information out of his family's mouth. Remember how the Quidditch match ended?"

Ron and Hermione grimaced together. Their friend had waited for Sirius to come, only for his father to come first. The impromptu meeting had ended in a scathing glare as Rodolphus had walked past his son, toward Lucius. And obviously, Lucius was having a word-fight with Sirius someplace away from the changing rooms.

When Bael had come up a few hours later, he had looked like hell. Some war had been fought in his hair, the tangled curly hair sporting its fair share of new knots. The poor lad had fallen head first into a pillow and refused to move for the night. Only some mutterings about devious snakes were understood. Ron had to pick up his friend and drag him the next day all the way to the DADA classroom.

"Well, anyway guys." Interrupted Neville, "I haven't heard that awful voice in a month now. It probably was a fluke … seeing as nobody was attacked."

And just as Neville had to say it, some fourth year student came tumbling in the common room (a nice calm oasis with a raging fire in the middle to warm up the children) panting hard.

"The Heir has attacked!"

A silence of death went down in the common room, only to be broken by the slight snores of Bael and another student.

"Yes, I know, it's completely unbelievable!" continued the boy, "It was … Mark Withers. A ... muggleborn." He finished somberly in a hushed whisper, perfectly understood by the assembly. Soon after, people were talking amongst themselves with worry clearly written all over their faces.

"Do you think it really was the heir?" wondered Ron, looking at a worried Hermione. The witch pinched her nose.

"I don't know."

The worried words did not appease anyone. And the next days did not alleviate the load either. Word had travelled far and wide in a night, up to the Daily Prophet. The Wizarding journal was actually resting into Bael's hand. And going from the tired and frustrated sigh from the boy, nothing satisfying came from the article he was reading.

Ron and Hermione approached their friends to get some news, but Neville beat them to it. The four Gryffindors were sitting in the Great Hall for some breakfast, waiting for the Quidditch teams of both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to come down.

"Nothing too good. The attack on Mark only resurfaced the many mistrusts in the government. In short, Fudge is confused, Pure-bloods are pushing for Dumbedore's resignation, half-bloods ignore the issue at all while the Muggle-born committee wants Auror in the Castle. The events from 50 years ago are still fresh in their minds. If there ever was to be another attack, the school might close." Finished the metamorphmagus, hair greying at the thought, "Yeah, things aren't looking good for Dumbledore right now." He ignored Hermione's mutter of politics aren't always blood related.

The three Gryffindors heaved a sigh. What Bael was describing had been going on for two weeks already in the Castle. Outside, tension was rising again after barely a decade of peace. People were getting nervous and frustrated easily. Neville had seen some sixth year try to pick on Bael for his parentage. The boy had rolled his eyes and left quickly, but the dark circles under his eyes he sometimes forgot to erase before leaving the dorm, told Neville Bael was not having full nights either. Ron was the only one in their year dorm to make full nights. At one time, all the boys – bar Ron – had jumped at a cat entrance into the dorm, Dean's spell missing the poor feline by a hair's breath.

"Perhaps, we should try something else." Suddenly said Hermione, "We have no idea who the heir might be, but perhaps we could find some clue about the monster guarding the Chamber. We know it can petrify students like Mark, and that you can hear it Nev'. I'm sure there are not many creatures around that fill the list." She proposed.

Unfortunately, her proposition was drowned under the cheering of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. Their respective Quidditch teams had finally come down. And the two Houses were already at war. But now that the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was over, the pent-up frustration seemed almost non-existent. If ever, the two fighting houses only looked like they were having a petty squabble. Compared to the full-on war that had been waged between Gryffindor and Slytherin in the days leading to their match (only in the common rooms, traps spells had been too mean and too present not to suspect students from the enemy house to have entered the sacred common room – McGonagall and Snape had been furious when they had realized it, but nobody had been caught), Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were not up to the candle. Which led to many mocking laughs amongst lions and snakes.

"We'll look more into it after the match." Harrumphed Bael, suddenly hyped for the match, "Come on guys, or there won't be any nice places left in the stands!"

Bael rushed to the stands, Ron hot on his heels. Neville and Hermione had chosen to stay a bit behind in order to savor their breakfast.

"I don't get it. We'll be freezing in the stands anyway. It's just Quidditch." Muttered Hermione, darkly looking at the falling snow.

The first snow had fallen on the Castle some time ago, around the beginning of October. Now, two months later, the cold had gotten sturdier and a severe sneeze case had been declared at Hogwarts. Neville had been no exception and that had caused the Gryffindors to lose some more points in potion. The poor boy could not hold it in with the fumes tingling his nose.

"Well, then; let's go. I suppose we'll look for your monster after the match. Maybe." Said the young witch while gathering her stuff and leaving the Great Hall with Neville.

"Do you think we'll see Bael and Ron?"

"Don't worry, we'll hear them. They probably will scare some students with their baboon cries."

Neville smiled at that remark, a small spark of warmth gathering at the tips fingers, where his mouth was close by.

"AND DIGGORY FOR THE SNITCH! CHANG WAS LITERRALY STUNNED BY THAT SPECTACULAR FEINT! 450 TO 340 FOR HUFFLEPUFF!" cried out Lee in his megaphone after an intensive three hours match. Hermione had been bored to tears by the match – and so had been most of the stands, and even at one point the players – Neville had simply sipped on some butterbeer he had bought on some older students. As expected, Ron and Bael had been some of the few to had stayed hooked through the whole game, and boy had they screamed.

"And did you see that last action?" exclaimed Ron, showing some curved line with his wand, "That was majestic! I think Maureen can pull that off much better off, though. Or perhaps you on your good day."

Bael gulped.

"Yeah … no. Mate, I'm far from being an acrobat."

"Dude, you barreled on your broom dozens of times at training. Don't tell me it was not controlled …"

Bael coughed, cheeks tinged with red.

"Oh! Did you see that! Some Slytherin to bother!" distracted Bael hurriedly after Ron's agape mouth.

"Wait! You cheater!"

Neville heaved a sigh at his two friends antics. As long as Snape was far from them, Bael and Ron were mostly safe. They would probably end up in detention yet again for some mischief – the last one in date had been a colored balloon on Lockhart's head, a very satisfying joke in the middle of dinner – but, Neville suspected the two friends to have a means of communication even through the detentions. He was certain he had seen Ron working on some joke Bael was not supposed to be aware of, and yet the metamorphmagus had come back from wherever he was with all the materials Ron had needed for his prank.

Hermione has scoffed playfully and told him about a communicating parchment, a very nice piece of magic the two boys had created in order to be – originally – still in touch on holidays when Bael was more or less sequestrated in his Manor (and Neville thought Bael was actually quiet free if he could go back and forth to Diagon Alley to Paris and then back to magic London all on his own).

"Now, to the library I suppose." Yawned Neville, stretching his sore back.

Hermione nodded and put a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We don't know very much, but I think we need to look into the past. The rumor had it, the Chamber was opened before. The Daily Prophet confirmed it. We need to know what happened then."

Neville's eyebrows creased.

"The Daily Prophet … they've accused Hagrid again."

"I know, I've read the journal too …" said Hermione, turning in a corridor to take on her left, "he was arrested the first time, and expelled for housing a magical creature. There was no real trial too. His wand was snapped with all the decorum possible."

"We could try to just go to Hagrid's then. Instead of looking into books … honestly Hermione, I don't think my eyes can take another paragraph of boring Hogwarts history facts."

The young witch's cheeks colored some more, but she agreed with her friend.

The two friends braved the cold and hash snow in the park to reach Hagrid's hut. It took them almost half an hour, and they were battered at the end of their walk, but at least they had not gone for nothing. Hagrid's lights were on, and a raging fire could be heard from the outside. Neville knocked on the door strong enough to be heard.

"Aye! Come in!"

The half-giant voice carried over to the two students. Neville and Hermione did not stay too long outside, the cold forcing them to rush in the hut.

"Sit! Neville, Hermione! I haven't seen you in a long time! How's Ron? And Bael?" wondered jovially their host.

The two Gryffindors calmly rushed to the fire to warm up quickly. Hermione was the first one to talk.

"They're fine. I think …"

"In detention again?" roared Hagrid, eyes tingled with laugher, "Those two are worse than Fred and George …"

Neville smiled at the thought of the prank war which was still not finished between the four people. The year promessed to be very entertaining.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Uh …" Neville began, not very sure of himself, "It's about the Chamber of Secrets." He whispered.

Instead of an awkward silence, a mere thoughtful gaze entered Hagrid. The half-giant glanced worriedly at his umbrella resting next to the fire – Neville was sure the remnants of Hagrid's wand was still trapped in that awful umbrella.

"Ah, it's because of the Prophet." He muttered, "There's not much to say."

Hermione furrowed her brows,

"Do you have any idea of who could have been behind all these attacks? Or what attacked Mark?"

Hagrid negated his head.

"Nay. I was raising Aragog at the time and Tom Riddle, the Slytherin prefect, denounced me."

"Riddle?" wondered Neville, "Do you think he was behind these attacks?"

Hagrid waved him.

"Absolutely not! Even if I don't like that boy, he was only doing his job …" the painful voice made it clear Hagrid was still not over the story, "And Riddle really was a model student. I don't see him as a murderer …"

Neville and Hermione shrugged.

"As for the monster, I can assure you spiders are afraid of it." Finished Hagrid, "Aragog was absolutely terrorized. And if I remember well, your friend Bael, told me back at Halloween spiders were fleeing the Castle."

"Bael did? He never told any of us …" uttered Neville

"Oh well … you know him. He must have forgotten about it. That, or he just does not judge the spiders and the pretented monster guarding the Chamber to be related. I heard him speak to the Headmaster about the Castle's foundations the other day …"

"The … Castle's foundations?" repeated Neville while Hermione was drinking from Hagrid's lips each word. Hagrid resumed.

"Yeah. He told Dumbledore about some things crawling under our feet … apparently, there are moans of sorts."

Neville frowned now. He distinctly remembered Bael asking him if the voice he had heard was akin to a moan or a groan. Nothing, he had said. It was … just an eerie voice. It was no plaint nor beast-like sound. It had a conscious of its own, had answered Neville in the end. And then Bael had seemed confused.

Bael woke up with his friends shaking his head gently.

"Mate, we're in London, wake up."

Ron's voice reached his ears and Bael raised his head very slowly, eyes still closed.

"Why?" drawled the metamorphmagus.

From the light laughing he could hear in the compartment and from the commotion, Bael gathered his friends were leaving. He had no idea whatsoever why he had chosen to come back to his Manor for the holydays. Ah, yes. With the attack, students were forced to leave the Castle so Aurors and teachers could scour the grounds, looking for the offending beast.

Bael let out a small sad smile at the thought of adults looking for an uncatchable monster.

Wait, how do I even know that?

But soon, even the thought was forgotten as Bael yawned again and promptly fell asleep on the compartment's sofa.

He was woken up again by a calloused hand on his hair.

"Well, nephew. Time to get going on." Cheerfully said a deep voice above his head.

Bael's eyes flew open this very instant.

"Rab?" – the named wizard Rab (short for Rabastan) nodded and took the last trunk in the net – "What are you doing here?" groaned Bael as he tried to stand up. A full 6 or so hours in the same position on a train could severely damage your limbs realized Bael when he tried to close his fists to cover yet another yawn.

His uncle – for Rabastan was Bael's uncle, his father's brother more exactly – led him out of the train groggily.

"Well, someone had to take you. Bella's being fussy and Rod is at the justice court today, so I was the only one left."

But Bael yawned again and almost fell asleep while standing up.

"Hey! Don't fall asleep on me!" barked his uncle playfully, "Look kiddo" Bael sent a withering glare toward his uncle "I know you must have had one hell of a night, we've been through Hogwarts too, your parents and I. Farewell and Yule parties tend to get messy, but do try to stay awake for ten minutes more. Then you'll get to bed."

His uncle's rant did spark an amused thought (his parents partying like horny teenagers almost made him gag, but still elicited a smile). Bael complied to his uncle's instructions to leave the dock where many wizards and children were leaving. Had he listened to the end of his uncle's speech, Bael would also have noticed the impeding family dinner that would ensue at eight o'clock this very night. But the only thought registering through Bael's brain was: Why is it not summer time?

Snow was surrounding them, spreading its cold breeze to unfortunate souls, covering not only the train's roof, but also the rails.

Alright, you know the drill ;)

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