The next afternoon, before dinner Agatha was greeted by an long package on her bed as she went to the dormitory to retrieve her copy of Holyhead Harpies: Everything you need to know.
"I wonder what it is?" Charlotte beamed with enthusiasm as Agatha began tearing the brown paper. Even if she guessed what it was beforehand, her eyes couldn't help but widen at the black handle of the Nimbus Two Thousand and One. "Isn't that supposed to come next month?"
Agatha picks up the letter that fell on the bed:
I hope this broom exceeds all expectations when your House Team has their first Quidditch Practice – Your father.
Coming with the letter was an reminder from Uncle Severus that the Slytherin team had permission to train with their new Seeker this coming Saturday.
She swallowed, knowing who this new Seeker could be. The last time her father bought the Quidditch team new racing brooms, she had replaced the Chaser. Looking back, this had to be the purchase her father made that day in Diagon Alley. That this could be the racing broom he promised Draco and her when they were at that Borgin and Burkes. Given this purchase, this meant that Draco was now an member of the Slytherin team.
"You don't look happy, Agatha," said Charlotte.
"Father bought my way into the team and now he's done the same to Draco," she said. "Nothing to be proud about."
"Sounds something an Hufflepuff would say," was her response.
True, but everyone had some qualities that other Houses praised.
That Saturday morning, Agatha woke up bright and early. Joined by Draco as she and the other members of their House team approached the pitch for practice. With Draco practically skipping along the way.
"I can't wait to see the look on Wood's face when he sees these racing brooms off strip that of his Seeker's," Flint mused as they went into the Slytherin locker room. "They won't stand a chance."
"I wouldn't get too cocky if I were you," Agatha reminded. "He was able to get the Snitch even after his broomstick was threatening to throw him to the ground."
"It's going to be different," said Miles. "I'm sure Draco has more flying experience then Potter, no offense." The last part he added quickly.
They changed into their Quidditch uniforms and sat around.
"Now, Cassius is going to act as if he's the opposing team's Seeker," Flint began after finishing the usual game plan. "Therefore to prepare you for the real thing."
"It's probably not going to be as fun," Draco pouted.
"We all know you want to show off to Harry, but save it for the Game," she said.
"If you take cues from your sister, you should be good too," said Flint. "She has been on the team for two years now."
Brooms over their shoulders, they made their way into the pitch. Confusion filling her when she saw Quidditch players in the Gryffindor colors of red and gold in midair. "Are you certain that no one else was going to be on the field?" Cassius asked, echoing her thoughts.
It seemed that the Gryffindor Team shared her confusion, for they landed on the ground after spotting them. As the two opposing teams approached each other, Agatha could better see the utter indignation on Wood's face.
"Flint," Wood bellowed at him. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"
"Plenty of room for all of us, don't you think?" Flint wagered.
Don't take the bait, she thought as the rest of the Gryffindor Team faced them. Flint would use it as a excuse for Derrick and Bole to smack a bludger to Wood or Harry. And she could see Weasley and Granger approach the scene.
"But I booked the field!" Wood challenged, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"
"Ah," said Flint, "I got a note signed from Professor Snape." Smirking as he hands the roll of parchment to Wood.
"I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker," Wood read. He looked around their team in alarm. "You've got a new Seeker. Who?"
Agatha, Miles, and Flint moved out of the way to reveal Draco, who was smirking at the opposing team, specifically at Harry.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" asked one of the Weasley twins.
"Funny you should mention Agatha and Draco's father," said Flint as a she saw some of her fellow teammates smile more broadly. Agatha, on the other hand, felt nausea collecting in her stomach. As this was a avenue she never wished to travel to. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin Team. Though it really his second."
Draco, Bole, Derrick, and Flint showed off their new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. On the other hand, Cassius and Miles did not. Agatha guessed that they sensed her apprehension and decided it was best to not show off their new racing brooms.
"Those are Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones," Weasley gasped. "They don't come out until October."
"Father manages to pull some strings," Draco boasts, resulting in Agatha to place her face in her hands. "Perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."
Draco, Flint, Bole, and Derrick chuckle beside her.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Granger said sharply. "They got it on pure talent."
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Draco spat.
Once the last word came from Draco's mouth, she felt the heat reach her face. That word, which was used freely by her parents at home; a word that father warned not to use in public for the sake of image; a word used by those with uncouth mind.
"Draco, what the –" she demanded, though she had to dive in front of him to prevent the Weasley twins from jumping on him.
"How dare you!" Alicia Spinnet shrieked.
"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy," Weasley yelled, pointing his wand – which was bound with Spello-tape – at Draco.
A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron Weasley's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.
Granger ran to him, asking him if he was alright. His answer: an almighty belch and a slug fell on the grass beneath him.
Before she could restrain herself, Agatha found herself paralyzed with laughter. Holding her broom for support as uncontrollable laughter escaped her lungs. It wasn't funny. Seeing a spell backfire on someone was not something to laugh at, but regardless, laughter took her.
By the time she and the rest of her team recovered, the Gryffindor team had left the stadium.
"That was a good laugh," Flint wagered. "Let's get on with it, shall we?"
They got into formation and began their routine. Zooming around in their new brooms. Pearl had to admit, this broom was faster and smoother then her previous one.
Though, her exhilaration on this new model did not last long. She began to feel guilty for laughing at Ron Weasley. Perhaps she could look something up in the library to find out what help for the aftereffects of that backfired spell.
As for her brother –
"You know, Draco, that was unnecessary," she scolded after they changed back to their clothes.
"Don't tell me that Muggle Studies got into your head," Draco argued.
"Father specifically said not to use that word in public," she shot back, hoping to level him. "Says it puts a stain on the Malfoy name. What would father say if I told him that you used that word in public."
Draco's skin taking a shade of puce was answer enough. Though she wasn't going to tell father. As he would chide in via letter that the M word was only to said in the privacy of their own home accompanied by a stinging hex.
That afternoon, Agatha spent her time studying in the library with Cassius, Ernessa, Miles, Abigail, and Charlotte. Accompanied by Cedric and two of his Hufflepuffs.
"Figure that Lockhart's books are going to be the only things we'll be learning about?" Cedric asked.
"We should be learning something soon," said Charlotte. "After all, he did all those things that he wrote about in his books."
"What he says he has done," said Miles grumbled.
After finishing her essay for Potions, Agatha browsed through the Herbology section. Looking on something on curse aftereffects. Eventually finding a title worth looking through. Who would have thought ordinary dandelions helped with one's stomach after the belched out slugs?
"Five minutes to ten!" Madam Pince shouted.
Agatha cleaned up her notes and placed her books in the return cart. Perhaps it shouldn't be a bad idea to ask Harry if she could…
"Come…come to me…let me rip you…let me tear you…let me kill you…"
Agatha stops in her tracks. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom. One that contained so much murderous energy that her hairs stood on end.
"Did you hear that?" she asked.
"Hear what?" asked Charlotte, but Agatha did not elaborate. It would not bode well if they thought she was hearing voices. As she didn't hear it again, she hoped she was hearing things.
Though the very phrase she heard was the reason she could not sleep that night.
"Here's something for his stomach," Agatha offered to Harry during breakfast. Showing him the vial of dandelions she had managed to procure from one of the greenhouses.
"Did you hear that last night?" he asked her as he takes the vial.
"Heard what?" she asked, however, he could possibly be referring to one thing. Which confused her as none of her companions had heard it.
"There was a voice," he said. "Something about wanting to rip and kill something. Lockhart said he didn't hear it. Neither did Ron."
Agatha had pursed her lips. So, Harry heard the voice too. "Interesting, I was in the library when I heard it but none of my friends had heard it too."
"What could it mean, then?" he asked. To which Agatha could not answer.
An few days go by and Agatha thinks about that exchange with Harry. If he had heard it too, it couldn't be an hallucination. How was it that she and Harry seemed to be the only two that could hear that chilling and murderous voice?
However, the growing pile of schoolwork became one of the things that were pushing that conversation from her mind. As their teachers felt it was necessary for them to prepare for their O. an year in advance. Even Quidditch practice preoccupied her along with the mediocracy of Defense Against the Dark Arts (she had resigned herself to reading Lockhart's drivel as she didn't want a poor grade in that particular class).
Even if down from the cold running rampant through the school, they still managed to concentrate during training. A few times from her periphery, she thought she saw the Weasley twins sitting in the concessions. Perhaps spying on them to report on the speed of those brooms.
Yet, the Gryffindor team practiced whether the weather was inclement or not.
On some nights, while everyone else was to sleep, Agatha would look at the Marauder's Map. Often times watching Filch move around the school at night. Most likely on the prowl for anyone out of bed.
As for that letter she had sent to her biological maternal uncle, Agatha had come to the conclusion that Remus Lupin had no interest in answering. Not that she could blame him. It did seem rather bold to be writing to someone who probably would want nothing to do with her. On the other hand, she was disappointed, as he could answer some unasked questions.
Aside Lockheart's drivel, everything was going quite well. Saturday – Halloween – had marked the beginning of the weekend trips to Hogsmeade. That night, the highlight of the feast was that troupe of dancing skeletons that were rumored to perform for the feast.
Agatha was halfway through her trifle when she heard it.
"…rip…tear…kill…"
There it was again. That murderous and ice-cold voice.
She gripped her spoon tighter. The feast should be over soon. It should be.
"…so hungry…for so long…"
"Are you alright, Agatha?" Draco asked, cutting into her apprehension. She turned to see her brother looking at her with concern.
"Just thinking about that essay I have to do in Herbology," she lied.
Yet, she heard it two more times. The last one ending louder than the first: …I smell blood…I SMELL BLOOD.
She had half the mind to vocalize her concerns, but it would risk the rest of Slytherin House thinking she was mad. Thunder clapped overhead, indicating the end of the feast. Stomach tying in knots and legs feeling like jelly, she follows everyone else out of the Great Hall.
They turned the corner after leaving the hall and her eyes happen to turn to where Harry, Weasley, and Granger were standing. The three of them staring at something red on the wall. She wasn't the only one who noticed though, as her peers were too running towards where the three were standing.
They got close and Agatha's eyes widened when she saw what was scrawled on the wall.
THE CHAMBER OF THE SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE
If the message didn't send a chill down her spine, it was the sight of Mrs. Norris hanging under the torch motionless.
"Enemies of the Heir, beware!" Draco shouted beside her. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
Agatha covered her brother's mouth as Filch bellowed, "What's going on here? What's going on?"
Filch shouldered his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.
"My cat! May cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" He shrieked.
When his eyes fell on Harry, Agatha jumped. No, Filch couldn't have possibly thought –
"You!" he screeched. "You! You murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll –"
"Argus!"
Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of teachers. In seconds, he swept past Harry and his friends, and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. "Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger."
"Now, the rest of you, go to your dormitories!" Professor McGonagall called, pale as an sheet.
As they descended down to the dungeons, one Lavinia Blishwick asked, "That thing that attacked Mrs. Norris. You don't suppose it will attack us?" she asked.
Octavia scoffed. "You're pure-blood, Blishwick," she retorted. "You shouldn't worry."
"The Heir just goes after Mudbloods," Draco piped up. Agatha elbows her brother in disgust.
"Besides, if it were any of us, Filch wouldn't get so wound up," Blaise pitched in.
Agatha couldn't bring herself to sleep. Rather, she sat in bed watching the Marauder's Map. Trying to see if she could see anything suspicious. Yet nothing so far.
Why are you worried? chided that voice in her head. The Chamber of Secrets is nothing but some Hogwarts' legend.
She and Draco had grown up hearing about the Chamber of Secrets. Father was rather mum about who opened it, but would say that they were expelled when it was last opened fifty years ago. Which was one of the reasons why she questioned the story.
She still wanted to believe it was an myth. It should be, for how could something so horrible be true.
However, her gut begged to differ, and thus she had an hard time sleeping that night.