Firebrand18: I'm not sure if we ever do get to see a Halloween feat, actually. I'm trying to think of the books in the series but I seriously can't remember. Yep, Helen may be logical most of the times, but not when it comes to Lockhart, unfortunately. As for Nia, well, there's certainly a reason why she isn't so into him. Thank you very much for your support; your reviews honestly make my day.

El Basurero: Hello, and thank you! I'm glad you love it.

Malfoy yelped in a high-pitched tone. He certainly wasn't expecting for Alexander's fist to wrap around the lapels of his robes. Gasps rung from the students, their attention caught. Seamus shouted, 'Go on, Alex, get the bloody wanker!' Others yelled, 'No' or 'Get him!' The ferret's face was pinched in fear and his cold eyes blown wide. He was trying to push against Alexander's tight hold, his force weak as Malfoy was unused to Muggle fighting; Alexander held on, his knuckles stretched white, snarling in anger. He pulled his other hand back, anticipating the cracking sound of the ferret's nose when it descended.

But it never happened. An invisible wall blocked his fist.

'Mr Laurent, please remove your hand from Mr Malfoy.' Dumbledore had his wand out and was peering gravely at them, accompanied by Professor McGonagall and Snape, the latter of whom was glaring at him.

'Tut, tut,' said Snape scornfully, 'fighting in corridors are we, Laurent? How very . . . inexcusable.'

Malfoy shoved Alexander's arm, his smile smug now that the teachers were here. He was breathing dramatically and flexing his hand on his throat. 'He was about to kill me,' sneered Malfoy. 'You should have him expelled. I'll have bruises after this.'

'That is quite enough, Mr Malfoy,' said Professor McGonagall sternly.

'My father will hear about this! Make no mistake of that. You'll get what's coming to you, Laurent, soon.' Malfoy stumbled backwards, and a flash of panic appeared when Alexander mockingly took a step forwards.

'I said that was enough, Mr Malfoy.'

Malfoy sneered then turned his back, ramming his way through the crowd carelessly. Some people groaned in response, glaring, but didn't say anything. Alexander saw the heavy figures of Crabbe and Goyle join the ferret as they disappeared around a corner.

McGonagall pursed her lips at Alexander. 'As for you Mr Laurent, you should have known better. It was disgraceful, and as a result, five points will be taken from Gryffindor. Fighting will not be tolerated.'

Alexander pressed his lips together and nodded. His only regret was not being able to get a hit on the ferret at least once. Especially as he had the nerve to use that word again. And he was somewhat insinuating some sort of threat against Hermione. Alexander scowled at the thought.

Ron and Hermione's attention was focused on him. They all appeared shocked though Ron looked slightly disappointed that the ferret didn't get punched. Alexander shrugged helplessly at him. Hermione was frowning deeply. Harry was distracted by Dumbledore's appearance.

Dumbledore's face was serious as he swept past Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs Norris. He held up a hand when Harry stammered desperately, 'Sir, I didn't, we didn't —' Harry instantly become silent though his face showed how badly he wished to explain himself. Alexander himself didn't understand. Someone had done this to Mrs Norris and he doubted the culprit to be a student.

'What's going on here? What's going on?'

The wheezy voice made Alexander curse under his breath. Attracted by the commotion and the crowd, Filch came shouldering his way through.

Filch's eye fell on the teachers and Dumbledore first, 'Ah, Professors, Headmaster, sir —'

Then his gaze settled on Mrs Norris. A sort of convulsion overcame him and he fell back, clutching his face in horror. Alexander had never particularly liked Filch but even he felt a smidge of sympathy as the caretaker was experiencing most likely his worst nightmare in front of him.

'My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?' shrieked Filch. His unsettlingly popping eyes fell on Harry, who was closest to the cat apart from Dumbledore, and who held a deer-in-headlights expression. 'You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll —'

'Argus!' Dumbledore raised his voice. It was good timing, too, because Alexander would have jumped in if Filch had laid a hand on his friend. 'Come with me, Argus,' ordered Dumbledore softly. 'You, too, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger.'

Lockhart stepped forwards eagerly, beaming to be of some use. Alexander didn't know how someone can be so pleased and upbeat in grim circumstances. 'My office is nearest, Headmaster – just upstairs – please feel free.'

'Thank you, Gilderoy.'

Snape interrupted before they could leave. 'Headmaster, perhaps it would be of some value to bring Laurent as well.' He examined Alexander slowly as he spoke. 'He might also know something, like his little friends over here. He may have seen something . . . heard something.'

Alexander felt the school's gaze turn to him.

'On the contrary, Severus,' McGonagall's tone was admonishing, 'Laurent wasn't at the scene. And, he's already been sufficiently punished as it is.'

'Minerva is correct, Severus,' nodded Dumbledore, 'Mr Laurent simply stumbled across with the other students. We shall leave him for the time being. Come now.'

Snape scowled but didn't argue. Alexander knew the greasy bastard wanted to get him back for fighting with the ferret. To find some way to pin it on him so Snape can punish him further. Too bad his plan didn't work. The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape. Filch's dry, racking sobs grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared.

A slow buzz of voices gradually built up around them. Gossip flew from the clusters, and people turned to stare at Alexander from their huddled heads. He could make out some whispered sentences: 'Do you think he actually knows something?' 'Laurent's friends with Potter, he's bound to have noticed something.' 'He was in the Hall, Marie. Professor McGonagall even said so.' 'He's right, I saw him sitting with Helen Fawley.' Some quickly avoided eye contact when Alexander caught their gaze; others were merely discussing the disturbing sight of Mrs Norris hanging.

Alexander was exasperated. People were so quick to turn on him despite knowing he was with the rest of the school. A tap came on his shoulder behind him. A few of the Hufflepuffs stood there with a mixture of anxious, fearful, and curious expressions.

'We saw what happened just now with Draco Malfoy,' said Ernie. 'Good on you, Laurent. I think he deserved it after that horrific comment about Muggleborns, don't you? It's a shame you didn't manage to hit him. I think I would have rather enjoyed that if I'm being honest.'

'Yeah, absolutely,' supported Zacharias with a nod, 'I would have too. He's always been a rude person. Always looks down on us Hufflepuffs as if we're beneath him. One upper-cut to the jaw would have done it.'

Alexander's lips tugged up in a smile. It seemed that Malfoy had managed to turn even the Hufflepuffs against him, who would've known? Maybe Zacharias Smith wasn't so bad after all.

'What did you make of that, Laurent?' said Ernie, his stare centred on where the cat had been. 'Gruesome, eh?'

'Indeed,' replied Alexander, mind drifting elsewhere. He wondered about the other three friends. He'll wait until they've finished with the teachers and question them on what happened. Who would want to harm Filch's cat? Granted most of the school probably, but the way it was performed was not ordinary. No spell could describe the cat's state. He shivered. It was stiff as a corpse.

'Well, I for one want to congratulate whoever it was,' declared Zacharias. 'It was about time Filch got a taste of his own medicine. He's never been a particularly likeable fellow.'

'Zacharias!' exclaimed Hannah in an appalled manner, Susan equally as shocked. 'That's a horrible thing to say.'

'It's the truth, Hannah. I'm sorry to be the one to say it, but we were all thinking it.'

'His cat has just died, we should all have a little more compassion and respect.'

'Don't tell me you actually liked Mrs Norris. She ratted you out that one time and gave you scratches when you tried to pet her – don't you remember?' drawled Zacharias, crossing his arms.

'Of course, I do, but it was still a horrible sight to witness. Nobody deserves that to happen to their loved ones, not even Mr Filch,' stated Hannah softly but firmly.

'She's not dead,' Alexander proclaimed, bringing the Hufflepuffs attention to him. 'Mrs Norris, I don't think she's dead.'

'Ah, ha, so Snape was right. You do know something.' Zacharias pointed a finger at Alexander, his tone triumphant. 'I knew it – so, go on. Out with it, or we'll go straight to Dumbledore.'

'He doesn't know, haven't you been listening?' said Susan. 'He's been with us the whole evening.'

Alexander gives a grateful nod to Susan. 'She looked like someone had cast the full Body-bind curse on her, except this is an advanced version, I reckon, though I've never heard of it.' He paused. 'Someone's being using Dark Magic I believe.' None of the boys looked convinced. Hannah and Susan swallowed nervously.

Ernie shrugged. 'Well, she looked dead enough to me.' They fell into silence, staring at the torch bracket where Mrs Norris had been. 'Don't you think it's a bit suspicious,' Ernie began slowly, 'that Potter and his friends were the only people not at the Halloween feast? And then they appear all of a sudden at that exact moment near Miss Norris. We're meant to believe that they had nothing to do with it?'

Alexander's head snapped to Ernie. 'That proves nothing,' he was quick to sharply retort. 'They were just there at the wrong place at the wrong time.'

'No, Ernie's right,' said Zacharias, frowning in thought, 'Seems a bit fishy to me. Too much of a coincidence.'

'I'm telling you, you're both wrong.' Alexander clenched his jaw. 'You can't just pin this on Harry. He can't have done it – he's only a second year. No one at this school could have done it.'

'How do you know that?' questioned Zacharias accusingly. 'He was only an infant when he defeated You-Know-Who.' Zacharias spoke to him as if he were slow. 'So who knows?'

'What do you mean, Zach?' asked Hannah nervously, 'you're not seriously suggesting that Harry Potter of all people did it, do you?'

'I'm just saying, Hannah.' Zacharias shrugged in an annoying all-knowing tone. 'Potter got rid of You-Know-Who that night, but we don't exactly understand how. He was meant to be this powerful wizard back then. Who's to say that Potter doesn't have some dark powers of his own.'

'Shut your mouth, Smith, you barely know what you're talking about.' Alexander was scowling, a crease on his brows. He wasn't going to stand here and allow Zacharias Smith to verbally slander one of his best friends like this. It'd be against Alexander's nature.

'Zach, this is Harry Potter we're talking about,' said Susan in an incredulous tone, 'the Boy Who Lived, remember. You think he'd be a Dark wizard?'

'Look, we don't know what happened to Filch's cat just now but Potter was coincidentally found at the scene. He could have killed Mrs Norris while we were all in the Hall, how about that? He never particularly liked Filch. I always thought Potter had it out for him. And who better than to go for Mrs Norris.' Zacharias appeared pleased, standing tall like he had solved some mysterious case.

'I told you to shut your mouth, Smith. Stop making stupid accusations,' growled Alexander angrily.

'Now that I think of it, maybe Zach's right,' said Ernie thoughtfully. 'I know he's your friend and all, Laurent, but even you have to admit that Potter doesn't look innocent in all this.'

Alexander opened his mouth, his retort burning on the tip of his tongue before a high voice jolted him.

'Come on – what are you all doing here? Don't you each have dormitories to go to?' Professor Flitwick pushed from the legs of the students and was dismissing them in each turn. 'Feasts over, boys and girls, off you go now. That includes you two as well, Jones and Francis. Go on.'

The crowd dismantled and went in different directions to their respective dormitories. Alexander leaves as well, giving one last glance at Ernie's and Zacharias's resolute faces and Susan's and Hannah's hesitant ones, the embers of his anger quivering dangerously. But he doesn't make it to the Fat Lady's portrait – he heads towards Lockhart's office instead. He waits in a dark corner, hoping a teacher doesn't catch him.

Alexander paces for a few minutes, his gaze etched on the door of Lockhart's office. His heart jumped as it opened and Harry, Ron, and Hermione came out. He marched up to them as quietly as he could, and at first, their faces dropped in panic at the sound of his footsteps before melting into a relieved expression when they noticed who it was.

'Merlin, Alex, you scared us,' said Ron in a hissed whisper.

Alexander ignored this. 'What happened?' he asked, staring at them hard.

Harry stared from left to right. 'Not here. Come on.'

They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them.

Alexander squinted at his friends' darkened faces. A ray of moonlight was cast in the middle of the room. 'Go on, then, tell me. What happened with Mrs Norris? And what did Dumbledore say?'

Harry began carefully. 'Do you remember when I told you that I heard a voice that day during detention? A strange voice that wanted to kill.'

'Vaguely, yeah. Wait, are you saying it was the voice that had something to do with Mrs Norris.' Alexander was incredulous. 'It's just, well . . . it sounds a bit far-fetched to me, mate.'

'It's not,' snapped Harry before softening in the realisation that someone might hear them. 'I heard it again after we left the deathday party. We were going to join you in the Great Hall, and that's when I heard the voice again. It was coming from the walls, I'm sure of it.' Harry nodded, convinced beyond doubt.

Alexander stared at Ron and Hermione, who appeared apprehensive. 'Did you two hear it, too? The voice?'

'No,' they answered at the same time, causing Alexander's heart to sink. He nodded, muttering under his breath, 'I thought so.' He sighed out loud. 'This is a load of merde you've got yourself into, Harry.' He heard Ron grumble under his breath, 'you're telling me.' Alexander continued, 'So, go on. What happened next?'

Hermione shared a glance with Ron before answering. 'Well, Harry sort of ran after the voice in a sense.' She stopped, hesitating to proceed further. 'He was concerned, I believe, that it was going to . . . going to . . . kill someone.'

'We followed him,' said Ron, 'and we, er, came across Mrs Norris' body.' Ron shivered. 'I don't think I'm going to forget that image in a long while. Not with the words still there as well. Giving me the shivers even talking 'bout it.'

'So it is a coincidence.' Alexander breathed a sigh of relief. 'Thank God for that. But why didn't you try and leave before the rest of the school came? Surely you knew how it must look to them.'

'We tried to,' replied Ron defensively, 'but it was too late before we could. You saw what happened.'

'Hang on,' frowned Harry, 'what do you mean coincidence? You don't think I had anything to do with it, do you?' Harry was staring at him demandingly, a splash of hurt reflected in his eyes.

'Of course not, Harry, calm down. I never doubted you for a second,' Alexander scoffed. 'Besides, it's not me who thinks that, it's most of the other students.'

'Who?' Harry's voice was bitter.

'Er, it's not just a bunch of them, mate, it's the majority of the school.' Alexander grimaced at the remembrance.

Harry chuckled emptily. 'Brilliant, that truly great.'

Hermione swallowed. 'Anyway, she's not dead, Mrs Norris, not according to Professor Dumbledore. She's just been Petrified.'

'I've never heard of any spell that can Petrify a cat. It would have to be very advanced Dark magic.' Alexander rubbed his temple warily. It appeared they had another mystery on their hands.

'I know,' nodded Hermione in a small thoughtful voice, 'I haven't either. But I'm sure there'll be something in the library about it. I'll have to check it out.'

It was silent for a second, Alexander examining Harry's thoughtful frown.

'D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard? Dumbledore and them lot, I mean?' asked Harry, glancing at each of them.

'No,' answered Ron, without hesitation. 'Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world.'

Harry stared at the three of them as they shifted uncomfortably. 'You do believe me, don't you? I'm not just making this stuff up.'

'We believe you,' said Alexander quickly, 'You'll just find it hard to explain to others. The whole school doesn't think you're innocent.'

'You must admit it's weird, Harry,' confessed Ron in an uneasy tone.

'A hanging cat, Harry hearing voices – of course, it's weird. The whole thing's weird,' Alexander rolled his eyes, and Hermione gave him a pointed look.

'I don't doubt it,' acknowledged Harry. 'What was that writing on the wall about? "The Chamber Has Been Opened." What's that supposed to mean?'

'And who the Heir is, we can't forget about that.'

'You know, it rings a sort of bell,' said Ron slowly. 'I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once . . . might've been Bill.'

'Do you remember it still?' asked Alexander interestedly.

'No, sorry, I can't remember off the top of my head. It's been ages.' Ron's voice was apologetic, and Alexander sighed in disappointment.

'And what on earth's a Squib?' said Harry.

'Squib? Where did you get that from?' Alexander tilted his head quizzically.

'Filch said that I attacked his cat because I knew he was a Squib. But I don't even know what a Squib is!'

Alexander raised his eyebrows to his forehead. 'Filch is a Squib. Really?' He supposed it should have been obvious. No one had ever seen Filch do magic in all the time they were at Hogwarts.

To his surprise, and a tad bit of irritation, Ron stifled a snigger, his eyes glistening with mirth.

'What's wrong with Squibs?' Alexander demanded sharply. 'Because I can tell you right now, Eliot's a Squib and there's nothing wrong with him whatsoever. He's the best person I know.'

Ron hastily shook his head while Harry and Hermione stared blankly. 'No, no, there's nothing wrong with them, mate, I agree. Well – it's not funny really – but as it's Filch.' Ron shrugged sheepishly.

'What is it?' prodded Hermione curiously.

'A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggleborn wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual.' Ron gave Alexander an inquisitive glance. 'How do you know a Squib? Most of them usually live in the Muggle world.'

'I've known Eliot for most of my life,' informed Alexander, 'I didn't know he was one until he told me. He works for my grandfather.'

Ron frowned. 'Weird. Squibs aren't known to work for the ministry of any kind. They're kind of like an anomaly itself.'

Alexander shrugged, never really having thought about Eliot's status. He was just Eliot to him. Someone who talked constantly about baking and cars whenever he got the chance.

'But anyway, Harry, if Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much.' Ron gave a satisfied smile. 'He's bitter.'

A clock chimed somewhere, jolting all four of them. 'Midnight,' said Harry.

'Come on, we don't want to be caught here,' said Alexander, and they go to their dormitories.

Ron and Harry fell asleep instantly. Alexander, however, lay in bed, staring at his four-poster bed ceiling. Eliot was not part of the wizarding world but Grandfather was. How did they even meet in the first place then? They've never said so before. Grandfather had such a different demeanour to Eliot, how did they even get on? These were the thoughts niggling at his brain. Before long, the day caught up with him and the world of the abyss slowly overtook his consciousness.

∞ ϟ 9¾

For the next few days, the school was rampant with talk of the attack on Mrs Norris. Snape took several points off Lavender and Parvati for chatting about the topic. People hadn't forgotten about Harry's role in the affair as well; they stared more so than usual and some first years went in the other direction when Harry came near them. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back.

During Gobstones Club, Alexander got a sense of how much the school distrusted Harry after the incident. He was in the Courtyard playing a mindlessly classic game, flicking a ball across the board and effectively hitting two of Zacharias's marbles out of the circle. Alexander gave Zacharias a satisfied smile as the blond boy rolled his eyes.

'Oh, wow, Laurent, so I lost two marbles, big dea —'

There was suddenly a loud SPLAT! A gelatinous, purple substance smacked Zacharias right in the face, and he spluttered, spitting the foul stuff out of his mouth. There was a roar of laughter from the few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws surrounding the game. It seemed that Alexander was the only Gryffindor and there was no sign of any Slytherin. He felt a few pats on the back of his shoulder.

'You should see your face, Zach,' laughed Terry Boot, a light brown-haired Ravenclaw. 'Brilliant, Laurent.'

Zacharias Smith wiped the goo from his face, scowling deeply. All his talk about wiping the floor with Antoine Laurent's grandson at Gobstones remained just that, talk. 'Yeah, yeah, it was just simple luck,' groused Zacharias, 'don't get too comfortable. I'll get you back for that, Laurent.'

'Oh, come on Zach, this is the third time you've been sprayed, give it up already,' came Susan's amused voice from behind Alexander.

Before Zacharias could answer, Justin Finch-Fletchley strode into the Courtyard just then, placing himself between Anthony Goldstein and Ernie Macmillan. 'Hey, Justin,' people greeted him.

'I have just received a detention from Filch for "breathing too loud" apparently,' grumbled Justin, removing his yellow scarf. 'He's been way harsher than usual lately.'

The Gobstones members became silent quite abruptly. They glanced shiftily at each other. None of them was brave enough to bring it up during the Club until now evidently.

'He's upset about his cat,' swallowed Hannah nervously, 'it's perfectly natural.'

'Yeah, well, it should not mean that we suffer instead.' Justin breathed angrily out of his nose. 'You know this is not the first time. I have seen Filch scrubbing the message on that wall with remover. But the words are still there.'

'They can't take it out with magic?' inquired Anthony Goldstein.

'I do not think they can. It is too hard and the teachers cannot figure out what the message is written in.'

'It must be really Dark magic,' quivered Lisa Turpin.

'Course it is, Lisa, what else what it be?' said Zacharias. 'Anyway, we all know the person who has something to do with it. Isn't it obvious?'

Alexander snapped his head up, glaring at Zacharias. The blond Hufflepuff always ran his mouth way too much.

Lisa Turpin furrowed her brows. 'Who?'

'Harry Potter, of course.' Zacharias's tone was matter-of-fact.

'Don't you think you're being a little bit fanciful, Smith,' pointed out Terry Boot with a frown. 'That's quite hard to believe.'

Zacharias raised both hands in surrender. 'Hey, I'm just filling in some facts. Hear me out.'

'That's a lie,' snapped Alexander through gritted teeth, shifting the group's eyes on him. 'Harry has nothing to do with it. Stop saying that, Smith, if you know what's good for you.'

Justin Finch-Fletchley, however, was also of the same opinion as Zacharias. 'Careful, Laurent,' warned Justin, 'ensure that you do not get too close to Potter if you know what I mean. So just – be on your guard.'

'Are you hearing yourselves properly? You both need your brains checked out,' Alexander hissed. 'You think a second year did that?'

Their faces peered down at him. Most had tiny frowns, others were resolute, and those like Hannah, Susan, and Terry seemed hesitant. He hated how fickle some of them could be; one minute they love Harry, praising him for being the Boy Who Lived, the vanquisher of Voldemort, the next they're believing everything against him, eager to pin the whole incident on him.

'I don't know, Alex,' came Hannah's timid tone, 'the circumstances seemed suspicious. We still don't know where he was at the Halloween feast.'

'Yes, preciously, thank you, Hannah,' nodded a satisfied Zacharias.

'He was at a deathday party – that clear it up for you enough?' Alexander scowled at them, then swallowing back his frustration, rose from his seat in front of the board.

'Where're you going, Laurent, we haven't finished our game yet?' said Zacharias.

'I just remembered I have a Professor McGonagall's essay to complete. It's due soon and I need to start it,' he said, wrapping his scarf around his neck.

As he walked out of the Courtyard, none of them said a word, though he could feel their eyes burning onto his back.

Ginny seemed very disturbed by Mrs Norris's fate. Alexander had stumbled upon her crying quietly in the common room on his way back from the Courtyard, and she wouldn't respond when he tried to calm her. Ron informed him that she was a great cat lover so this wasn't unusual. Alexander didn't blame her. He didn't know what he'd feel if it were Apollo in Mrs Norris's place.

'But you haven't got to know Mrs Norris,' Ron told her bracingly. 'Honestly, we're much better off without her.'

Ginny's lip trembled. Alexander sent a hard look over Ginny's head at Ron, who sat on the other armrest, but Ron hadn't noticed.

'It'll be okay, Ginny,' reassured Alexander with a smile, 'I'm sure Mrs Norris will be fine. Imagine her as sleeping for a couple of months. She'll be back before you know it.' Ginny peered at him with disturbed eyes, tear marks beneath them as if she knew it wouldn't be fine at all.

'Yeah, stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts,' continued Ron. 'They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking —' Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched and rose from her seat before disappearing to the girls' dormitories.

'Oh, well done, Ronald,' said an exasperated Alexander, 'no really, you're a true comfort to be around.'

'What? What did I say?' Ron stared with a quizzical blank expression.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Nia and Helen were an exception to everyone else's similar opinions. Alexander ran into them in the Owlery as they were coming down the slopes.

'Yeah, I don't think Potter had anything to do with Mrs Norris's situation,' stated Nia.

'You don't?' Alexander breathed a sigh of relief. This was the first person who wasn't against his friend, nor by association, him.

'No, I don't either,' said Helen sensibly, her hair flying backwards in the breeze. 'He's too inexperienced and young to do something like that.'

Alexander uttered a laugh. 'He'll be very pleased to hear that, I'm sure.'

'I think Harry Potter was simply found at the worse place at the worst time. It's pure common sense if you think about it.' Helen shrugged casually. 'And now everyone wants to believe it's him because there's no one else when actually it would take a very powerful wizard. Beyond N.E.W.T level skills.'

'You're the only few in the school who does,' Alexander sighed, 'I've heard some people say that even I had something to do with it.'

Nia shook her head scornfully. 'People here will believe any crap you tell them. This will be solved though, mark my words, we just have to leave it to the teachers.' Nia gave him a pointed look.

'What?' he blinked at her curiously, wondering why she was staring at him like that.

'Laurent, don't get too involved like last year,' she said, and Helen nodded in agreement. 'You know what I mean. Leave it to the adults.'

Alexander shifted on his feet. 'Oh, uh, sure.'

Yet, he did not believe that this whole business would be solved so easily, especially not by the teachers. This was Hogwarts after all. The Professors themselves appeared to have no clue what was going on. He overheard Flitwick say so to Professor Sinistra during one of his sessions in Charms.

'Good,' nodded Nia, 'anyway, this whole Petrifying business doesn't bother me that much. I feel like there's much bigger problems. For me, anyhow.'

Helen frowned at Nia disapprovingly. 'I agree, yes, we should leave it to the teachers, but what bigger problems are you talking about?'

Nia smiled grimly. 'Exams.'

∞ ϟ 9¾

It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a substantial amount of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Harry and Ron couldn't get much response from her when they asked what she was up to. Alexander knew better because he noticed the types of books she was skimming through. She was either searching up the Chamber of Secrets or a spell that can Petrify people.

It was their free Period before History of Magic and they were in the library, completing their last-minute homework like Ron and Harry, or shifting through the shelves for a specific book, like Alexander and Hermione. He had to duck several times to avoid colliding with flying books travelling from one bookshelf to another.

Hermione sighed frustratedly, huffing audibly. Alexander peered up from a book he was casually flicking through, as he leaned against a table. He stared curiously at her restless figure in front of him as she patted down her bushy hair numerous times, walking from one section to the other. An uncontrollable smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn't know why Hermione was so interesting to observe but she just was. She had certain habits that he'd detected over time. When she'd read something or was deep in thought, she would bite her bottom lip. She muttered under her breath when she grazed her fingers across the spines, 'no, no, that's not right', 'oh, this might be interesting', 'definitely that one.' She was probably doing it unconsciously and Alexander didn't want to disturb her.

She left to another aisle, disappearing from his view. He went back to flicking through the heavy-set book he had instinctively picked up without realising. He paused all of a sudden, gaze narrowing onto a specific name. Wrinkles of surprise appeared on his forehead. There was no doubt about it; it was sitting there bold and printed. LAURENT was the fancy title at the top of the page. He checked the title of the book he held which was labelled Wizarding Families of France. There could be no other name the book was referencing – it was his family surname.

Alexander turned the pages and glanced briefly at the pictures: one was a picture of his grandfather, young and shaking the hand of an unknown man while beaming up at Alexander. Another was of Grandfather holding a young girl in his arms, who couldn't have been more than four years old. Alexander breath hitched. He knew who that was. He'd seen her before in a mirror. She was a young child in the image, but she had the same hair and eyes. He closed the book swiftly and held it under his arm as Hermione came back, frowning deeply.

He looks at her with a raised eyebrow. 'What are looking for, maybe I can help you as well?'

'No, it'd be pointless anyway – all the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out,' she said irritably, 'I've checked everywhere.'

'Why do you need that book, don't you have your own copy?'

'I do, but I left my copy at home as I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books.' She appeared close to stomping her foot in frustration. 'And there's a two-week waiting list. I have to wait until I can read up more on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets.'

Alexander crossed his arms. 'Ah, I thought that's what you were searching up. But that book wouldn't be useful for that topic,' he informed briskly then after spotting her bewildered look, 'it's mentioned once in the entire book. And that's only to say that a Chamber has been built, not where it is or who built it.'

Hermione sighed warily. 'Oh, if only I can remember where I heard about it. And I can't find the story anywhere else —'

'You know, you're much better off asking a Professor than having any luck here,' said Alexander thoughtfully. 'Professor McGonagall might now something herself or Dumbledore might have told her.'

She bit her lip. 'Maybe I will ask. Professor Binns might know something, he is an expert in History of Magic after all.'

Silence overtook them. There was a noticeable crease in the space between her eyebrows and lines formed on her forehead. Sometimes, he felt that she overworked herself too much with how determined she was to find out information and wished that she wouldn't tax herself too much. At times, he wished to tell her but was afraid of how she'd take it.

'Alex,' she said softly sighing, breaking him from his thoughts.

Alexander clenched his hands, consciously aware of her presence suddenly. He hummed to signal that he was listening.

'I didn't want to say this in front of them but I'm worried about Harry.' Hermione glanced through the spaces between the shelves. Harry and Ron were sat down on their table, chatting and scribbling down on their parchments. She shook her head. 'The whole hearing voices that nobody else can hear seems very suspicious to me. I don't think it'd be the last of it that we'll hear. I think this is just the beginning.'

Alexander placed his book on the table behind him and straightened his posture. 'Nothing will happen to Harry . . . or anything one else while we're at it.'

'I'm afraid the whole school might be in danger.'

Alexander had mused over Hermione's worries himself before and believed them to be reasonable. 'You're right,' he admits, 'this might not be over, whoever attacked Mrs Norris might still be around but all of us will get through it together. I promise you.' He looked her straight in the eyes, hoping she was somewhat assured.

'How can you be so sure?' she asked worriedly.

'I'm not,' he shrugged, then smiling, 'but I'm also not going to let my friends be attacked – that much I know.'

Hermione nodded, her brown eyes becoming warmer. There came the sound of the bell, causing Alexander to glance upwards.

'Come on, let's get Harry and Ron,' said Hermione, snapping to attention, 'before we're late to History of Magic.'

He snorts. 'Oh, what a shame that'll be, I'm sure.' He earned a nudge against his shoulder from her. He picked up his book from the table, causing Hermione to stare curiously at it.

'What's that book for?' she asked.

He held it under his right arm. 'It's something extra to read up on with the Astronomy easy. You know I need all the help I can get.'

∞ ϟ 9¾

History of Magic was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner. Alexander, as usual, was listening through one ear while occasionally jotting down a line or two of facts on today's lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289. He was half-thinking about the book he checked out, at which Madam Pinch gave him a distrustful when he did.

A movement, very uncommon in this class, caught his gaze. Hermione put up her hand. She caught his eye and he knew immediately what she was going to ask. He sat up straight, paying more attention than he ever had.

Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of his dull lecture, looked amazed. 'Miss – er – ?'

'Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets,' said Hermione in a clear voice.

Professor Binns blinked. 'My subject is History of Magic,' he said in his dry, wheezy voice. He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk slipping and continued, 'As I was saying —'

He stuttered to a halt. Alexander's hand was raised this time. 'Mr Labont.'

'Laurent, sir. Your subject deals with the Magic's history. Surely the Chamber of Secrets is included in that history? It's a part of the school, is it not?'

'Yes, but I deal with facts, Mr Laurent, not myths and legends.' He peered down at his notes. 'Now, In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers —'

Alexander gave a small half-smile as Hermione whipped up her hand again. She was nothing if not persistent. No one had ever succeeded in gaining Binns' focus like this.

'Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?' she reasoned.

'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.'

The whole class was now hanging onto Professor Binns' every word. Alexander knew he was completely thrown by such an uncommon show of interest.

'Oh, very well,' he sighed wheezily. 'Let me see . . . the Chamber of Secrets . . . You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago 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.'

The Witch Trials, thought Alexander.

'For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together. 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 between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school.'

Most of the class visibly shivered. Alexander saw Ron throw a pointed look at him and Harry when Binns talked about being selective. Hermione swallowed nervously. It was that merde about blood purity all over again. Just how long ago did this tradition date back? He was finally starting to understand slightly why Pureblood families like the Malfoys were so fixated on the topic, even now.

Professor Binns pursed his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise. 'Reliable historical sources tell us this much,' he said. 'But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets.'

Anticipation bubbled in his stomach. This was it.

'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 could open it until his 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.'

Alexander peered at Professor Binns, furrowing his brows. He didn't like the sound of that, the "horror within." It implied some type of monster. That must have been what attacked Mrs Norris. Did Slytherin even have an heir? They must have died years ago, right? The only person he could think of that seemed the correct fit was Draco Malfoy. But if Malfoy was the heir, he would have made sure everyone and their relatives knew that he was related to Salazar Slytherin. His head would be even more inflated. And the fact remained that the culprit had to be someone older.

There was silence as Professor Binns finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.

'The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course.' His tone was louder and breezy now. '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.'

Alexander wasn't so sure. Mrs Norris and the writing proved that. It was also too believable to be prank conjured up.

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.' Professor Binns shuffled his notes.

So he was right, it was a monster. Binns, however, was overlooking one aspect. If the chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's heir then it was obvious why no one else had been able to open it.

Professor Binns had had enough. 'There is no Chamber and no monster. We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact.'

His tone was unyielding, there was no arguing with him. The class sighed in disappointment. Within five minutes, Alexander had sunk back into his usual torpor, listening through one ear and taking brief notes while daydreaming.

At the end of the class, Alexander was off while everyone else was packing their stuff. An idea had occurred to him. He was out the door before Hermione could ask him where he was going and the first one to arrive in the common room. He had to be quick before dinner was served. He took out a parchment and a quill from his bag and placed it on his desk, which leaned against the wide window overlooking the Black Lake. He dipped his quill into the inkpot and began to write:

Grandfather,

I hope you're doing well. I'm writing this letter because I wanted your help with a specific topic. In History of Magic, we were very briefly learning about the History of Hogwarts and the founders of the castle, and the Professor touched upon something but was unable to further explain. I'm still quite confused, and so I was hoping you could tell me more about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. You must have come across it somehow during your schooling at Beaubaxtons or your years at the ministry. If anyone would know anything, it'd be you.

Alexander paused, quill hovering over the fresh ink. He wanted to keep it as vague as possible. The last thing he wanted was to alarm Grandfather of any whiff of danger to the school. No, it was safer to present his questions as hypothetical.

The Professor mentioned something about there been a horror within the chamber but unfortunately didn't clarify. They also mentioned an Heir of Slytherin. I'd hate to not explore all aspect of this subject, and thoroughness is key as you've taught me. Therefore, if you know anything about this, I would be very happy to gain any sort of knowledge as there's nothing mentioned in any book so far.

Give my love to Eliot.

Alexander.

When he finished, he strode up the familiar slopes to the Owlery and walked inside, instantly stopping Apollo, who blinked at him eagerly. He wrapped the letter around Apollo's leg, gave him a sweet owl treat, and watched him soared through the cloudy sky.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Alexander arrived in the common room that evening later than the others as he was serving his detention. Thankfully, it was with Professor McGonagall so it wasn't too unbearable. When he walked in, he saw Ron scowling fiercely at his Charms homework, which he kept blotting in his anger.

Alexander raised an eyebrow at his bad temper. 'What's up with Ron,' he asked Harry and Hermione. Harry appeared too distracted by his thoughts to answer.

In that instant, when Ron reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Alexander quickly extinguished the flame.

'Woah, careful there, mate,' he cautioned.

'Percy is what's wrong,' scowled Ron, throwing a dirty glance at his brother, who was on the other side of the room. 'He's a stinking hypocrite that's what.'

This cleared nothing up for him. 'Oh . . . right.'

Hermione quickly slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut, surprising Alexander. Usually, she'd be one of the last people in the common room to stop reading, but not today.

'Who can it be, though?' she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having.

'What do you mean?' asked a confused Alexander.

'The Heir of Slytherin,' she replied anxiously, 'Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggleborns out of Hogwarts?'

'I can think of one person specifically,' he muttered, 'and we all know who.'

Hermione stared at him, unconvinced. 'If you're talking about Malfoy —'

'Of course, he is!' said Ron. 'You heard Malfoy – "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" – come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him.' He sighed mournfully. 'It's a shame the teachers stopped Alex from laying a hand on Malfoy.'

'You're telling me,' said Alexander drily, rolling his eyes.

'Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?' said Hermione sceptically.

'Look at his family,' offered Harry, closing his books, too. 'The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough.'

'They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!' burst Ron excitedly. 'Handing it down, father to son.'

'Hang on,' interjected Alexander, frowning. 'I never said he was the Heir of Slytherin. Yes, he hates Muggleborns – he's made that perfectly clear – but I don't think he's the actual culprit behind it.'

'Why not?' demanded Ron, 'And why are you defending him?'

Alexander exhaled in slight irritation. 'I'm not defending him, Ronald, I'm thinking about it logically.'

Ron still wasn't satisfied, nor was Harry and Hermione at that. 'How's that?'

'Look, Malfoy is a pest, a ferret, and the most deplorable person we've all come across – I get that,' explained Alexander in a strong voice, 'but he doesn't have the brains or the courage to do something like this.' He gave an assured smile. 'He's a coward through and through.'

'Well, I suppose so,' said Hermione cautiously, 'but it still doesn't rule him out completely. And it would hurt to find out.'

'No.' Alexander's tone was grudging. 'No, it wouldn't, I guess.'

Ron was firm in his decision. 'Well, I still think it's Malfoy. His whole name is written all it.'

'But how do we prove it?' challenged Harry darkly.

'There might be a way,' suggested Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a glance across the room at Percy. 'Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect.'

She locked eyes with Alexander, and it was as if a light bulb went off in his head. He blinked rapidly. 'You're not seriously suggesting that we —'

'If, in a month or so, you two feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?' interrupted Ron irritably.

'All right,' snapped Hermione coldly. 'What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realising it's us.'

Alexander's heart sank and he closed his eyes for a brief second. She was serious.

'But that's impossible,' stated Harry.

'No, it's not,' answered Alexander, pinching the bridge between his eyes. 'Difficult but not impossible per se.'

Hermione nodded smartly. 'All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion.'

'What's that?' said Ron and Harry together, causing Alexander to sigh.

'It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him.'

The fact that she said it so brazenly and so simply made Alexander stare at her and utter, 'Wow' in a tone of amazement. He was shocked and a tad impressed by her initiative and recklessness.

She turned to him defensively. 'What?'

'Nothing, it's just . . . you've changed from first year,' he said in disbelief, and a spot of red appeared on her cheeks.

'Is that that a bad thing?' she insisted defensively.

Alexander shook his head. 'I never said that . . .'

Ron spoke with a grimace, bringing back the focus. 'You know, this Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me. What if we were stuck looking like Slytherins forever?'

'He has a point, for once,' said Alexander with a smirk. 'I quite like my face.'

'It wears off after a while,' said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. 'But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library.'

'So we'd need a signed note.'

'Hard to see why we'd want the book, really,' said Ron, 'if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions.'

'We have to be creative with our request,' said Alexander, 'something that'll convince one of the teachers to give us permission.'

Hermione thought for a moment. 'I-if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance.'

Ron gaped at her as if she were mad. 'Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that. They'd have to be really thick.'

Alexander laughs, 'You're forgetting, Ron, we have the person that fits the bill perfectly.'

∞ ϟ 9¾

It was when the other boys were happily snoring away that Alexander took out the book. He threw his bed covers over his head, took out his wand, and uttered Lumos for a bright white light to beam the printed words. This book had been on his mind all day ever since the library.

He flicked through until he came to the LAURENT page again. The captions from the first photo read: "Antoine Laurent, newly-famed French Diplomat, shaking hands with the British Minister of Magic from 1975 - 1980, Harold Minchum." Grandfather must have been in his late thirties then; he had a relaxed face while the other man was sterner, gazing at Grandfather stonily rather than the camera. In a sense, it was Grandfather and yet it wasn't; he looked younger, of course, his hair a more darkish blond, but he stared straight on with an arrogant, blithe smile as if he knew all the secrets in the world. Grandfather never smiled like that. It caused Alexander to feel uneasy. It was very . . . odd was the best way he could describe it.

He examined the second photo, but it was the caption that especially caught his attention: "Antoine Laurent posing in front of reporters with his four-year-old daughter, Amelie Laurent." Alexander swallowed nervously as he closely scrutinized the image. They were stood on the stone steps of a large traditional building. Grandfather was even younger in this one, like late-twenties. In the background, people held large cameras as they surrounded Grandfather, who stopped every few moments to wave with a broad smile. Yet, when he kept peering down at Amelie, his smile turned softer. Alexander didn't blink for a while when his young mother held up her fingers to give a proud wave with a gap-toothed grin. He made a mental note to order this book Flourish and Blotts so he could have his own copy.

He turned to read the first few paragraphs:

One of the most prominent families in the wizarding community of France is the Laurent family, who ranks second after Bonaccord. The Laurents are a part of the Grande Bourgeoisie ever since the nineteenth century, for five generations and counting. Members of the Laurent family previously married within the aristocracy or made other advantageous marriages. In England, they would have been a part of what was commonly named the gentry. The surname "Laurent" was formally "Du Laurent" but the former was discarded in the early twentieth century. The Laurents are generally respected by the wizarding community in France as their previous ancestors have often contributed to the country's history.

In terms of wealth, the Laurents are moderately affluent and have a few assets built over time. This moderate wealth is owned due to a prior scandal involving a past ancestor, Jacques Laurent, who gambled and squandered a lavish amount of wealth and capital. Laurents do not rely solely on this kept money, however, and certain family members receive income from various jobs within the ministry or have ventured to start small businesses in the past.

The page continued to talk about each past ancestors and their contributions to France and the wizarding community. Alexander skimmed over this, one or two words being too complex for him to comprehend, and came to the part he was most interested in. It was the section that had a very brief biographical summary of Grandfather's life. There was an image of Grandfather of what he looked like now and his name in bold letters at the top:

The Laurent Family holds two members today, and the most current and renowned, who is recognised across Paris mostly, is Antoine Georges Laurent. Antoine, born 1938 in Paris, was son of Aldrich Laurent. Growing up in a comfortable and well-spacious home, Antoine was privately educated for the first few years of his life. His father hired tutors to teach the young boy across a range of subjects, such as money management and languages including English, Bulgarian, Italian, Spanish and German. Antoine is reputed to be an incredibly sharp-minded and ambitious person by all those who knew him. Despite this, his charisma and sociability attracted people from all areas of life. It was thought by past and present ministry officials, "Antoine can charm and build trust with a troll if he wants to."

During his eleventh year, he attended Beaubaxtons Academy for seven years. Even in school, Antoine was notorious. He was noted for being an infamous Quidditch player, whose skills as Chaser resulted in numerous cup awards and medals; he had a natural aptitude for duelling, and, according to many students, was a challenging opponent in wizard's chess. By the time he left school, he was on the receiving end of many impressive qualifications and several recommendations from his teachers.

Antoine's joined the French ministry when he was eighteen years old. He quickly rose through the ranks, as predicted, through hard work and charisma, and by his twentieth year, he was a fairly influential diplomat for France. It just so happened during this period that Antoine decided to move to England permanently after he was married at the age of twenty-one to a wealthy English Lady. It was rumoured by friends and family that the marriage was arranged by Antoine's father, Aldrich, at the time.

Antoine is most renowned for his work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, in which wizards and witches from various countries come to work together. His duties for this department include networking with magical governments in Europe and even North America and setting standards for trade. He also ensures to be present at the International Confederation of Wizards in representing the French government.

Antoine's private life is less publicised including his relationship with his wife, who died shortly after eight years of marriage. Whether the two had a close or strained relationship is unknown. What we do know is that Antoine had one daughter, Amelie, who was born when Antoine was twenty-three, in a private hospital in England. Amelie was her father's only heir as Antoine did not choose to marry after the death of his wife. It is alleged that the nature of Amelie and Antoine's father-daughter bond was tense. There was a clashing of ideas and beliefs between the two, and by the time Amelie was seventeen, she had moved out of her father's house and moved into a small flat in North London with a close friend. Amelie registered and birthed a young son, Alexander Frederick Laurent, soon after leaving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when she was eighteen years of age. The identity of the young boy's father remains uncertain.

Amelie's tragic death came to shock both Antoine and the wizarding world at the time. It was highly reported by many newspapers in France and Britain. Her cause and place of death continue to be undetermined. Following his daughter's death, Antoine disappeared for one year and a half from the wizarding community. He made his reappearance, however, when Cornelius Fudge, the present Minister of Magic, came into power. Antoine Laurent currently lives in Notting Hill, London, with his five-year-old grandson. He enjoys playing wizards chess and drinking Ogden's Old Firewhisky.

I've now planned a brief outline for each scene for the rest of this novel. I just need to write them.

Thank you for reading! Thoughts and opinion are very much appreciated.