Maribella didn't quite get the chance to talk to Harry after the were too chaotic, and he soon disappeared with Professor McGonagall. She later found out he had gone to see Professor Dumbledore, who seemed to believe Harry's story. However, he was one of the only ones.
The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned the casual fear that had been permeating in the halls into panicked terror, and everyone seemed to believe Harry was the perpetrator. The only people who seemed to think that the idea was a total joke were Fred and George, who went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through!" When Harry confirmed he didn't mind, and actively welcomed the comic relief, Maribella even joined them on shoving garlic cloves under Harry's nose and lighting incense on the corridors to ward off Harry's evil spirit.
No one seemed to appreciate their efforts, though. Many students who had opted to stay in the castle for Christmas stampeted to sign their name off to go home during the holidays. Lucky for the foursome, Malfoy would be one of the students still staying, probably because he was greatly enjoying the gloomy atmosphere hovering over them all.
"Well, did you expect any less from the Slytherin heir?" Ron would ask.
In the meantime, Maribella's Papa had gotten her some of the items she asked for (along with a note that read 'win that bet for me! i want 30% of your winnings for my participation in this'. Maribella didn't know how she'd get out of that one), and the Polyjuice Potion was close to being complete. They would finally be getting the answers they desperately needed. But of course, one final ingredient was missing: a speck of whoever they'd be changing into. They had already established who would be who: Hermione would be Millicent Bulstrode, Harry and Ron would be Crabbe and Goyle, and Maribella would be Pansy Parkinson. Hermione had already gotten her hair when Bulstrode jumped her during the Duelling Club, and had been pressuring Maribella into sitting down and properly coming up with a plan to get her own hair. They had decided that Ron and Harry's hairs would be solved later, but Maribella's had to be done before the winter holidays; Parkinson wouldn't be staying at Hogwarts.
In the end, Maribella decided she would just have to improvise. On some afternoons, Gryffindor shared Potions with the Slytherins, and a week before the term ended, Maribella armed herself with Harry's invisibility cloak and a glass phial, and began following Parkinson, trying to cut a lock of her hair with the Severing Charm. The more she tried, the more impossible the task was turning out to be, because Maribella could never get close enough to do it safely- after all, she only wanted to give Pansy a bad haircut, not a life threatening slash.
After a few failed attempts (one of which Maribella accidentally ripped a good bit of the back of Malfoy's robes; not that he had noticed), Maribella changed her strategy. Instead of Parkinson's hair, which was a risky target at best, she aimed for the girl's book bag. The plan was that with the Slytherins distracted, she could get close and get the hair she needed. And it worked.
Parkinson's bag fell on the floor with a crash, startling the entire hallway, even more so when the girl herself tripped over her things and crashed on the ground with just as much force. Her Slytherin buddies crowded around her, collecting her stuff and helping her up, simultaneously making it impossible for Maribella to get the hair she needed. Maribella was starting to panic- Hermione would kill her if she went back to their dorm without the hair- until she noticed that Parkinson had scraped her knee when she fell, and had left a small puddle of blood. Maribella scrunched up her nose, but alas, it was either collecting that or facing Hermione's wrath. By the end of the day, both she and Hermione were set for the Polyjuice Potion taking.
At last, the term ended, and they could pretend everything was fine for a couple of days. The days leading up to Christmas were spent ordering any last minute presents through mail, playing Exploding Snap- in which Ron and Maribella paired up to beat Harry and Hermione so thoroughly both refused to play for a few days after, having snowball fights with the twins, building snow goblins, and even practicing a little duelling, which Maribella found that under Harry's tutelage she was getting increasingly good at spells such as 'Expelliarmus'.
When Christmas morning came, Maribella and Hermione woke up before the boys to add to the potion the remaining ingredients they had just gotten from Maribella's home. The potion looked to be almost ready, only needing a few hours to settle. It was decided, then. Their plan would be executed tonight. They went back to their dormitory, and started on their respective piles of presents.
Maribella had gotten a few more bicorn horns from her Papa ('for your bets!'), and although she was thankful, she didn't quite know what to do with them. From the rest of the family, she had gotten an enchanted tiny model of her favorite Kneazle, Tesoro, the official protector of the Grotta, whom she missed and loved greatly. The model had Tesoro's pointy ears mimicked to perfection, and even shed hair. She had gotten a large panettone from her distant relatives, and a set of LP records labeled 'Italian Wizarding's Best 60's Hits', despite the fact she had nowhere to listen to the discs, and wasn't very interested in listening to musicians with weird names, like The Floating Stones.
From Ron, she got a pair of hand-knitted socks, which she suspected he must've gotten his mother to make, and there was a nice moment when Hermione teased Maribella about her compulsive need to have all her socks very neatly folded. From Hermione herself, Maribella hadn't actually gotten anything. Both had decided to join their saved up money to buy themselves a nicer, more expensive present later on.
The most interesting present, however, was from Hagrid. He had gotten her a can full of maggots, for Rubeus, along with a note that had a message scribbled on it in Hagrid's messy handwriting: To Maribella, take care of Rubes, my roosters are all gone. The note was peppered with what looked to be dry tears. Maribella's heart clenched. Gone? Did he mean dead? Eaten at the feast? Kidnapped for their beautiful plumes? Maribella's mind suddenly conjured up a flash of red hair lighted by the full moon, and the smell of animal blood. But what did it all mean?
"Good pile this year," Hermione said, bringing Maribella out of her own head. "Mum and Dad managed to send me Hogwarts, A History, though it's not much of use to us now, is it?"
Later on, the girls went up to get the boys, who were still sound asleep. Maribella was excited at the prospect of having a proper British Christmas, as she only ever had celebrated with her mostly-Italian family. The Great Hall looked magnificent, with huge frost-covered Christmas trees adorning each corner of the hall, snow falling from the ceiling and disappearing before reaching the ground, inflammable balls of fire distributed every few feet along each of the four house tables, fairy-lights, and giant wreaths.
Their meal consisted of a hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of boiled potatoes, platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce, followed by a Flaming Pudding that everyone had to have second helpings (and thirds, in Ron's case). After a year and a few months eating exclusively British food, Maribella adapted fairly well, though by the end of the feast she had a new appreciation for the Italian banquets she was used to.
No one, not even someone haunted by the impending Polyjuice Potion, could fail to enjoy Christmas at Hogwarts. Only when Hermione ushered all of them out of the Great Hall did the feelings of unease creep up, more so when it was brought up the fact that they all needed a bit of whoever they were changing into. Maribella, of course, felt the most uneasy. She imagined blood tasted a lot worse than hair.
"I've got it all worked out," Hermione said proudly as she held up a couple of chocolate cauldron cakes. Harry and Ron would get their nasty Slytherin-samples with the cake (borrowed from the feast) filled with Sleeping Drought (stolen from Snape's cupboard, of course).
"All you have to do," Hermione continued, "is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few hairs and hide them in a broom closet."
Maribella, Ron, and Harry sniggered at the suggestive thought of Crabbe and Goyle alone in a cupboard.
"We need some larger robes," Hermione went on, silently disapproving of their juvenile thoughts. She handed Harry the sweets. "Can you get down to the laundry and sneak some, Mari? I'm going to check on the potion."
Hermione hurried off and Maribella looked over at the others.
"Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?" Ron asked, with a doom-laden expression.
"Yes," Maribella replied. "Pretty much every single one of ours. But we should get going. Let's get this done and over with."
Maribella left Harry and Ron behind, heading down into the basement, close to where she assumed the Slytherin Common Room would be. She made it to the laundry room, finding four sets of robes that looked to be big enough, and made her way back upstairs. When she slipped back into the bathroom, Harry and Ron were already back.
"Now what?" whispered Ron.
"We separate it into four glasses and add the hair."
Hermione poured large portions of the potion into four glasses they had laid out, one for each of them. Then she added Millicent Bulstrode's hair into the first glass, and motioned for the others to do the same. Maribella took the phial from inside her robes and dropped its contents into the glass next to Hermione's. While Hermione's glass hissed and turned into a puke-green color, Maribella's blackened into a musky red-brown.
They all decided it was better to use separate stalls to take the potion, and Maribella locked herself into one, staring at the disgusting liquid in her hands. Before she could change her mind, she downed the potion in one large gulp. Maribella wouldn't have been particularly bothered by its metallic coppery taste, or it's murky consistency, for she was used to drinking something worse every month, if not for the fact that it was a solution of Pansy Parkinson. Her own brain wouldn't allow herself to disassociate from that thought.
A moment later, she started to change. Her brown hair shortened, and she could feel the hair follicles retracting into her skull. Along with having a shorter, Chanel-style bob, Parkinson was also taller and slimmer, her body more well taken care of. Maribella could feel her legs and torso stretching, and her limbs felt rubber-like. Her insides writhed and bubbled, and she thought she could feel the potion spread through her body, leaving a trail of what felt like crawling insects. Deeply uncomfortable, but no pain. Maribella would take this over her werewolf transformations any time.
She touched her face, feeling Parkinson's high-cheekbones and her small pug-nose, then ran her hands through her new hair- hydrated with the best products the Wizarding World could offer- and finally touched her neck and shoulder, both clean of any scarring, only a few pimples blemishing the otherwise perfect skin. Yes. Maribella would indeed take this over her werewolf transformations any time.
It seemed that the others didn't share her opinion. She could hear Ron and Harry groan. Hermione, however, was oddly quiet.
"Are you lot alright?" She called, and out came Parkinson's voice, much too shrilly compared to her own voice.
"Yeah," grunted one of the boys in a low-raspy voice.
Two figures came out of the stall. Maribella stared at Crabbe and Goyle as they looked at each other.
"This is unbelievable," said Ron in Goyle's (or Crabbe's, Maribella had never learned which imbecile boy was which) raspy voice. He approached a cracked mirror and poked his flat nose.
"Harry, you've never looked more dashing," Maribella said with a grin. He now had large feet, small dull eyes, long gorilla arms, bristly hair low on his forehead, and broad shoulders.
"You don't know how weird it is to see Parkinson smiling," he replied.
"It's even more bizarre seeing Crabbe and Goyle think," she shot back, and they laughed.
Ron approached the only stall still closed, and banged on the door.
"C'mon, Hermione, we need to go-"
A high-pitched voice answered him.
"I - I don't think I'm going. You go on without me."
"Hermione, are you okay?" Maribella asked through the door. "Want me to stay with you?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," was the reply.
"You sure? I don't mind it a bit, better than seeing Malfoy on Christmas day."
"Don't be silly," Hermione said, voice trembling. "Go on- you're wasting time, you've only got an hour before the potion wears off."
Giving the abandoned stall one last worried look, the other three checked the empty corridor and set off. The plan was that Maribella would pretend that Parkinson had decided to come back to the castle to celebrate Christmas with Malfoy. But for that, she figured she needed to not only look, but incorporate Pansy Parkinson' mannerism into the act.
"Act as though you have something smelly under your nose," Harry instructed.
"And you need to deepen your voice, you still sound too much like yourself," Maribella whispered. "Say it with me: 'bloody hell'- lower than that. Er, lower and less intelligent- yes, yes, perfect."
But they had a bigger problem. They didn't know where the Slytherin Common Room was, and time was running out. They wandered around for a bit, until Ron pointed out excitedly:
"Ha! There's one of them now."
There was some movement up ahead, emerging from a side of the passageway. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn't a Slytherin, but Percy Weasley.
"What're you doing down here?" Ron asked in surprise.
Percy looked ruffled. "That is none of your business," he said, sounding genuinely affronted.
It took a few seconds for Ron to understand that unexpected reaction.
"Get off to your dormitories," Percy continued stiffly. "It's not safe to go wandering around dar corridors these days."
"You are," Ron pointed out.
"I," said Percy, stuffing his chest out," am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me."
A voice suddenly echoed behind them. Malfoy was walking towards them. For the first (and hopefully last) time of her life, Maribella was happy to see him.
"There you are," he drawled as he got to them. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall this entire time? Wait- Pansy, what are you doing back here?"
"Oh," Maribella said, embarrassed to be put on the spot like this. "I- er- forgot something. I'll just be staying at school for the night."
Malfoy nodded."Anyway, I've been looking all over for you both; I want to show you something really funny- you can come too, Pansy, of course," he said, sounding all too charming. He then noticed Percy, which was just Maribella's luck, because she wasn't sure how she would be able to hide the utter disgust she felt.
"And what're you doing down here, Weasley?" He sneered.
Percy looked outraged.
"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I don't like your attitude."
Malfoy looked at Maribella and rolled his eyes, as if saying look at this guy. He scoffed.
"And why should I care what you like or-"
"Oh, Malf- Draco, we shouldn't waste our time on him," Maribella interrupted. They didn't have time for Malfoy to be picking petty fights.
Percy stared at her coldly.
"Parkinson, is it?" he asked.
"Ur-"
"She doesn't have to tell you," Malfoy cut in. He sneered and motioned for the trio to follow him. "Come on. Weasley thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed."
They obeyed, walking after Malfoy, who said as they turned into the next passage. They stopped by a damp stone wall.
"What's the new password again?" Malfoy asked, and to Maribella's horror, he had directed the question to her, as their other companions were obviously too dumb by Malfoy's standards to have remembered it.
Maribella wracked her brain to think of something that fit in with all the Slytherin stereotypes she knew that could also serve as a password. "Uh, 'serpents'. No, uh, 'green emerald'- wait, all emeralds are green. Um, 'Muggles suck'?"
Malfoy gave her a strange look.
"I've remembered- pureblood."
Well. That made sense. Maribella muttered something about having been away too many days to remember, but Malfoy was already strutting in.
The Slytherin Common Room was grander than Gryffindor's. Rather than the comfy, home-like ambiance sported by the latter, Slytherin had almost a mediaeval vibe to it, with rough stone walls, elaborately carved mantelpieces and chairs, leather sofas, lanterns, fancy tapestries, and high windows overlooking the depths of the Black Lake, all illuminated by a greenish hue coming from both the lake and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It gave Maribella a rich, authoritative feeling. She felt overshadowed in such a room. She literally was in a den of snakes.
"Wait here," Malfoy said to them, gesturing towards a trio of empty chairs set back from the fire."I'll go and get what my father's just sent to me."
In her nervousness, Maribella chose to gaze at the windows. She really felt the Slytherins were privileged to come into such close contact with all the wonders of the lake. Plus, the sound of the moving water was soothing. In other circumstances, Maribella would have loved to spend hours looking out those windows.
Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it on Maribella's lap. She sat between Harry and Ron, and they leaned towards her to read over her shoulder.
"That'll give you a laugh!"
It read:
INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
'Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
'"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," said Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."'
Maribella's stomach gave a lurch. She looked worryingly at Ron, whose pudgy face was turning purple, contorted with anger. Maribella let out an exaggerated giggle, and elbowed Harry so he'd do the same.
"What's up with you, Crabbe?" Malfoy snapped.
"Stomachache," Ron grunted.
"Well, go to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick in the arse for me," said Malfoy, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised The Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet."
"I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up," Maribella said calmly, though her heart was going a million beats per minute.
"He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon." Malfoy said, giving them all a smirk. "Father always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves muggle-borns. A decent Headmaster would never have let slime like that Creevey in."
Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel impression of Colin. "Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?"
He paused, waiting for laughter, but it didn't come.
"You seem like you've been paying Har-Potter an awful lot of attention," Maribella said.
This time, Harry and Ron did laugh.
Malfoy instantly sobered up. "What's wrong with you today, Pansy?"
"Well, y'know how everyone is, these days," Maribella explained quickly. "Thinking Harry, I mean, Potter is behind those attacks…"
Luckily, that set Malfoy off on another rant.
"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," he spat. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger mudblood. And people think he's the Slytherin heir."
Maribella let out a chuckle, but she was thinking about the irony of how while everyone thought that Harry was the heir, but Malfoy, probably the one least expected, was the one to realize how absurd it was. Surely because he was the rightful culprit. She thought he was about to admit it when-
"I wish I knew who it was," complained Malfoy. "I could offer to help them."
And just like that, their plan was destroyed. What now?
"But you must have some idea who's behind it all," Harry inquired.
"You know I haven't Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you? But my father did say this much: It's been fifty years since the Chamber was opened. He wouldn't tell me who opened it - only that they were expelled- but I know this: the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died." He finished excitedly.
Maribella whitened.
"So… it's only a matter of time before somebody else is killed this time," she breathed.
"Should we bet on it?" Malfoy asked with glee. "As for me, I hope it's Granger."
Maribella gasped, and clenched her fists in anger.
Malfoy shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep down and let the heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our Manor just last week?"
"They didn't!" Maribella deadpanned, failing to pretend to be in shock.
"Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor, and-"
"Ho!" Ron exclaimed all of a sudden. He was blushing, from the top of his head, to his cheeks. His eyes were lightening up into ocean-blue. They were turning back.
They jumped to their feet.
"Medicine for my stomach," grunted Ron, backing away with Harry.
"I'll accompany you, Goyle" Ron shook his head lightly. "-I mean, Crabbe," Maribella said, resting a hand on her forehead."Oooh, I'm getting so light-headed, was it something I ate at the feast?" And with that, she turned and followed the boys out.
"Well," Maribella said in between breaths, as they stopped briefly for a rest. "That's one name to cross off our list."
"And you almost gave us away," Ron complained. At this point, his face, though still fairly chubby, was once again drowning in freckles- as was his body, in robes twice as large as him.
"Did not!"
"You kinda did, Mari," Harry said.
"I can't help if I'm too charming to play Parkinson," Maribella retorted with a huff.
"Sure," Ron said. "Shall we go meet Hermione?"
Once they arrived, before checking on Hermione, they immediately went to the mirrors. Maribella was almost back to normal. She was back to her normal height and body type, looking smaller and more worn out. Maribella could feel her skin filling up around her bones, giving her a plumper look than Parkinson. Her face rounded up and her nose grew in size. She touched her shoulder and neck-area. The area that, for the last hour, had been scar-free, was full of pink indents, dead skin that would forever mark her body. She turned away from the mirror, as the boys still examined themselves. She couldn't look anymore.
"Hermione?" she called. "You still in here?"
"Go away!" the other girl squeaked.
"Hermione," Ron said, turning and hammering on the door of the stall. "Come out, we've got loads to tell you!"
"I don't want to hear it."
The trio exchanged worried looks. Their friend sounded like she had been sobbing.
"Hermione, what's the matter?" Maribella asked softly.
"You must be back to normal," commented Harry.
But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door.
"Oh, wait 'til you see," she giggled. "It's awful!"
"Shut up, Myrtle" Ron snapped forcefully.
"Something went wrong with the potion," Hermione said weakly from inside the stall.
"What do you mean?"
They heard the lock slide back, and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.
"What's up?" said Ron with uncertainty. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"
Hermione let her robes fall. Maribella's first impulse was to back away. Hermione's face was covered in thick, black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow, with slit for pupils, her nose had been flattened, she had long whiskers, and her ears were poking from the top of her head, pointy and furry. From under her sweater, above the hem of her skirt, was a long, curling tail. Hermione had turned into a cat.
Harry and Ron had also backed away in horror, and their reactions just caused Hermione to bawl even harder.
"I-it was cat hair! I t-took a hair from M-Millicent Bulstrode's r-robes thinking it was hers, b-but she must have a cat," she said in between tears. "And the potion isn't meant for animal transformations."
"You'll be teased something dreadful!" Myrtle said happily.
"Shut up, Myrtle!" Ron and Harry shouted at the same time as Maribella pulled Hermione into a hug.
"Oh, Hermione," she said, patting her friend's side in sympathy. "Madam Pomfrey will surely be able to sort you out in a jiffy." she snapped her fingers in demonstration.
"Yeah, she never asks too many questions," Harry said.
It took a little coaxing, but they eventually were able to persuade Hermione into leaving the bathroom so that they could bring her to the Hospital Wing.
"Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail," Myrtle jested as they left.
A.N.: Hey, everyone. Happy new year! I've had a few health scares lately, which is why I'm not posting the chapters as constantly as before- hope that's ok. I'll try to post another chapter in the coming months, but I have my finals in a few weeks and I'll really have to focus on that. Sorry about that...
Still, I'm still having so much fun with this story! Thanks to all who read it through last year and who are still planning on keeping up with it in 2021! Thank you also to my wonderful beta reader.
If you liked my story, or have any criticism, please leave a review!
~MJP