The bathroom looked just the same as it had before, except there was a certain air to it that Harry could tell as foreboding, almost dreading what was to come. The ghost, Moaning Myrtle, shrieked at his presence, until she realized who it was.

"Oh, hello Harry," she giggled. Harry stopped and frowned at the spirit.

"You know who I am?" he asked, confused. Myrtle giggled again.

"Don't think I haven't seen you come and go from here," she explained coyly, "You're quite cute when you're trying to hide." Harry, not knowing what to say, just stood there for a while before Leclair came in.

"You've been in here before?" she questioned, eying him carefully like she was eying a one hundred piece puzzle.

"Oh, yes," Myrtle answered for Harry before he could speak, "Always coming and going. Quite cheerfully I might add." Harry glared at the spirit while Leclair glared at him.

"Then maybe you're the Heir of Slytherin! It's just like you Slytherins to put the blame on someone else!" Leclair accused, her silver eyes torched with anger.

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry snapped back, "Why would I be the Heir? The Heir probably doesn't even exist!" Moaning Myrtle shrieked, catching both students' attention.

"How dare you!" she cried, her dull eyes now wide, "How dare you say something like that in front of me?!" Leclair paled a little as if she suddenly realized something but Harry only rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Look, no offense Myrtle," Harry obviously didn't mean that, "But I really don't care. My friends are in danger so-"

"Wait!" Leclair stopped him, then turned to Myrtle. "Myrtle, just wondering...how did you die?" Harry gave Leclair one of the most perplexed looks he had ever given anyone in his life. Myrtle just sniffled.

"Oooh, it was dreadful," Myrtle answered with a sniffle, "It happened right here, in this very cubicle," she gestured to her usual one she haunted, right below her, "I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in." Leclair looked interested, and gestured for the ghost to go on. Harry rolled his eyes at the drama, watching the etched sink and waiting impatiently for the story to be over. "It was a boy, that much I knew," Myrtle went on, starting to sob as she went, "But he was speaking strangely, in a language I'd never heard before." This got Harry's attention. "But I didn't care. I was suddenly furious. I took off my glasses and opened the stall door to tell him to 'go away'," she snarled the last bit, "And then," she finished peacefully, "I died."

"Just like that?" Leclair asked, confused. "There was nothing else?"

"Well," Myrtle replied, "Before dying, I do remember looking into these big, awful, green eyes." Eve's eyes. So this has all happened before. Why didn't Eve tell Harry about this?

"Look who I found!" Harry and Leclair turned to see Ron dragging in a very reluctant Professor Lockhart, the latter looking as if he was about to pee himself. "He was trying to leave the castle!"

"Who's surprised?" Harry pointed out, and that's when Ron noticed him.

"You!" Ron accused, his wand still pointed at Lockhart.

"Me," Harry affirmed.

"What are you doing here?" Ron demanded. "Are you the Heir of Slytherin?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you Weasley, but I'm innocent."

"He does have a good point though," Leclair turned to Harry suspiciously. "What are you doing here?" Harry looked to the snake in the sink before turning back to them.

"Well if you really must know," Harry answered simply, "I'm here to save my friends."

"Friends?" Leclair repeated dubiously.

"You may know them as the basilisks," Harry clarified.

"You're friends with the monster?!"

"There's more than one?"

"Yes, there is more than one. One's a baby though, she can't do any damage. Funny coincidence, the grown one is the baby's mother. And before I really argue with you Leclair, let me point something out, who is the real monster here: the snake who's being hypnotized to do her master's bidding or the cowardly liar who's running away?"

"I'd much rather be called a con artist," Lockhart argued.

"Nobody cares," Weasley snapped.

"You know how to get into the Chamber then?" Leclair accused. Harry smirked.

"Let me show you." He walked over to the sink and gestured for Leclair to come look.

"Don't do it Elle," Weasley warned, "It's probably a trap."

"Weasley, if I was the Heir of Slytherin, wouldn't I already be down there by now?" Harry argued. Thankfully, Weasley stopped talking.

"He's right Ron," Leclair surprisingly agreed with him, "And besides, we're running out of time. Every second we waste here, is another second closer to Ginny dying." The thought made Weasley's freckles pop in contrast to his now pasty white skin. Leclair turned around and followed Harry to the sink where he pointed out the etched snake in the faucet. "How come we've never noticed that before?" she questioned quietly.

"You've been here before?" Harry questioned.

"Polyjuice Potion. Long story," Weasley cut in, and he gestured for Harry to go on. Cradling the etching carefully, Harry muttered the correct words, almost not noticing the way the other three jumped at the sound.

"You can speak Parseltongue?" Leclair inquired, her silver eyes looking frightened but also curious. Weasley on the other hand was just frightened, as did Lockhart. Harry didn't answer as the entrance to the Chamber revealed itself, as a slide leading down into a dark abyss. Leclair peered down, suddenly a little nervous. "Looks dark," she noted dryly.

"Maybe the lady should go first. Good manners and all-" Lockhart was thrown off by the dark looks given to him by both Harry and Weasley.

"Actually," Harry suggested in a fake admiring tone, "Why don't you go first, Lockhart? You are supposed to be the hero after all." Leclair held back a smirk while Lockhart paled.

"Um," Lockhart was once again speechless. "Well, I-"

"Go on then," Weasley pushed the man towards the hole. Lockhart looked down hesitantly before looking back at the three students, all three now pointing their wands at him.

"V-very well," he stammered, and started to gear up to go, but stopped at the last minute. "Are you sure nobody else wants to goOOOOO?!" Both Harry and Weasley looked at Leclair with a blank look after she pushed Lockhart down the slide.

"What?" she asked innocently. "He wouldn't go." Their attention was brought back to the pit as Lockhart reached the bottom.

"It's really filthy down here," they heard him complain. Leclair then went to go next, but Weasley stopped her.

"I should go next," he explained. "Make sure it's safe for you down there."

"Excuse me?" But Weasley ignored her and, with his own push, was sliding down himself. Leclair went to go after him but Harry grabbed her arm.

"Wait," he advised, and once Weasley confirmed that he reached the bottom, Harry muttered another word in parseltongue: "Stairs." Sure enough, the slide morphed itself into a set of stairs, which surprised the girl.

"You couldn't do that before?" she asked, confused. But Harry's smug look told her all. "You're such a Slytherin," she muttered. With a wave of his wand, Harry made once nonexistent wall torches light up, and he held out his arm to Leclair.

"Shall we?" he asked politely, only to be shoved slightly as she went down ahead of him. Harry smirked upon noticing the small blush on her face as she did so and followed her down.

A/N:

Harry, now is not the time to be flirting! Geez! Anyway, so we find out how Myrtle died, Weasley and Leclair used Polyjuice potion at one point (just think of Leclair as Harry's replacement in the Golden Trio and it'll make more sense), and now they're all going into the Chamber to die. Or will they? MUAHAHAHA! Anyway, cheers!

~ Galatea Griffiths