AN: Hello all. Sorry this has been posted later than normal - I was waiting for a response from my Beta but she got so busy that it wouldn't be done on time. Then I got busy over the weekend and didn't have time to do the final read-through.

But here it is. I hope you enjoy it.

Also - many thanks to everyone who is reading, commenting, and faviouriting. It makes me so happy :D

Chapter 14: see it swimming, where is my mind?

She didn't go to Greengrass' house. The Malfoys were hosting their bi-annual ball, and they had been invited along with every other influential family. Except Halley. She didn't have anyone to accept the invitation on her behalf.

And neither her nor Greengrass were all that comfortable letting Halley stay in their manor by herself. Quite honestly, she hadn't wanted to go to Greengrass' house at all. Halley didn't really feel like they were at the stage where she could go to a wholly unknown location and be at the mercy of the family.

The lack of invitation didn't matter very much to Halley, but Parkinson had glared and moaned. "It's immensely rude to not invite House Potter," she said.

"She's not old enough," Greengrass said with a sigh, folding the last of her clothes into her trunk. They'd all already had this conversation. Many times.

Halley hadn't understood it very well, but there was an accepted understanding that fourteen was the brink of change for young witches and wizards. They were considered to have enough political and magical education to begin to navigate the social constructs of Pureblood events, at least enough to not create a family feud or a faux pas. In addition, the magical core was steadier by that age.

"But to not even invite her!" Parkinson said.

"Why are you so upset about this?" Halley asked, cutting through the familiar rant.

Parkinson rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in annoyance. "I'm now associated with you, Potter. For you to not get an invitation suggests social inadequacy on my part, and I cannot have that."

Halley nodded. "I suppose I'll need to take an interest in this at some point."

"Now Potter! You need to take an interest now!"

Greengrass rolled her eyes. "She'll be invited next Yule. For now we need to bide our time and figure out what happened between you and Malfoy. Maybe he has a crush on her."

Parkinson flushed. "I don't think so," she said tightly. "Besides, it's ridiculous to think this is all because of a crush. Something must have happened between the two of you."

Halley raised a brow. She hadn't interacted with Malfoy at all, other than the few times he'd stopped her to say something degrading or nasty about her family. Other than the first time they'd met at Madam Malkins, nothing came to mind.

"Not as far as I know," Halley said. "I'll be sure to ask the next time he insults my dead parents."

Greengrass shut her trunk and with a final look around her room, she called for the House Elf responsible for making sure the trunks made it to the train. The Elf popped the trunk wherever it went, and Halley looked on, confused. She hadn't realised how much they did at the school.

"Make sure to think on it over Christmas," Greengrass told Halley.

Halley hummed, then turned to Parkinson. "I am in no way interested in Malfoy. He's all yours."

Funnily enough, that didn't seem to change her mood, but there was little that Halley could do about it. She really couldn't interact with Malfoy any less. She didn't understand why Parkinson was so invested in dating Malfoy but, maybe that had more to do with his position as a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

"Whatever Potter. I'll find out at the ball."

Then they were gone.

Everyone was gone; like the year before and the one before that, most everyone had gone home for Yule. Only a few Fifth and most Seventh Year students were staying to revise for the upcoming OWLs.

But as a result, her dorm was empty, and all Halley was left with were her too-loud thoughts, all but screaming in her head about the unanswered questions. And she was getting ridiculously tired of having to deal with them all the time.

She wanted to be free. To escape the responsibility of being her. To be…she didn't have the words to even describe it, but she knew enough to know that she just wanted to be shut off from the world.

A thought came to her, and Halley smiled. She wouldn't be able to escape everything, not really, but she could potentially put it on hold for a little while if she went for a ride. She'd been on a broom a handful of times after her first class, and each time it had been a calming experience.

She didn't have her own broom - there had been no need for it as she'd not cared enough about Quidditch to ever try out - but the school brooms did fairly well if you could find ones without bent bristles. And those tended to be reserved for the Muggleborns who needed more stability for their first few lessons.

So, to the broom cupboard she went. It opened with a fairly simple Alohamora, and Halley got herself onto the pitch.

After her near-death experience with the Dementors, a stronger barrier was put up on the outskirts of Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had created somewhat of a safe haven around the Quidditch pitch. Apparently, it helped when there was a school-wide fanatic level obsession with a sport, and the Quidditch Captains had all practically rioted when training was cut in half.

But that meant that she mostly had protection for the Dementors. And Halley would not stray too close to anywhere that didn't have a lot of sunlight. That way she'd be able to tell if a Dementor was coming.

When Halley got to the pitch there was already someone out there. It seemed like the speck above her had the same idea as she did, but she would keep out of its way and hopefully they would deliver the same courtesy.

She placed her wand in its holder and mounted the broom, kicking it to take off. The broom responded well enough, and she was up in the air and flying around at a leisurely pace.

From her place in the sky, Halley could see the Hogwarts Express, already miles away. From the engine, steam billowed behind it, painting the sky with artificial clouds. She could see the small town of Hogsmeade and a black dog trotting through the Scottish planes periodically stopping and doing something that looked like it was checking over its shoulder.

Halley ignored the dog – Trelawney's weird prediction of the Grimm - and its behaviour in favour of the highlands.

She'd heard a story once - a film version of a book - about two horrible people living in the moors of Scotland. Or maybe it was the highlands - she couldn't remember. Both were forced to live apart from each other and make their new households difficult when they should have just been allowed to stay together. They were the same.

What would the characters think of such a brightly lit highland, or a world filled with magic and chaos and destruction? Would they have revelled in it, or would they have ignored it to carve out a place for just the two of them?

Halley wondered what would have been better.

"Potter?"

She heard her name being called from beside her. Halley turned and looked at Rowle, decked out in Quidditch gear. His forehead was sweaty, and the small blond hairs he hadn't caught in the plaits that lined his usually half-updo look were stuck to it. He was out of breath, catching it as he flew closer to her.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Flying," she deadpanned.

"On a school broom?" he asked. One eyebrow raised and sarcasm dripping off his voice, he had perfected the ability to make her feel stupid once again. But she pushed through.

"Obviously." She punctuated the word, just so, that it sounded far too much like Professor Snape.

Rowle smirked in response. "Slytherin looks good on you, Potter."

What did that mean?

"Right," she said, angling her broom in another direction so she could continue on in the hopes he would get the memo. "Well, if you'll excuse me -"

Rowle blocked her. "How about a race?" he asked.

"Why would I want to do that?"

He shrugged; a smirk still plastered on his face. It was annoying that it somehow made him more handsome, but handsome did nothing to impede on annoying either. "For fun?"

"I'm on a school broom. You'll win."

"I'll give you a four-second head start," Rowle promised.

Halley looked at his broom; the Nimbus 2001 was still the best broom out there at an affordable price. The only ones better were the newly released Firebolt and the Cleansweep TX5. Not only that but his was clearly kept in immaculate condition. The bristles were almost as shiny as the day he'd bought it. There was no way that her broom was going to be able to beat his, even with a four-second start.

"I don't think so," she said.

"Come on," he said almost lazily. "Where's that Slytherin ambition? Aren't you the reckless one in the house?"

"What?" she asked.

"The one who finds Cerberuses in the castle, who follows ambiguous messages into what may or may not be the Chamber of Secrets," he elaborated.

Halley suddenly understood what this was. Rowle was trying to figure out how much was fact and how much was fiction; if the Chamber had been found then that was a whole part of Slytherin's legacy that could potentially be consumed and exploited. But why would he be so obvious about it?

"Not really," she said.

"That's not what I've heard. But either way, a race? I've seen you on those brooms often enough. You control them well, maybe even naturally so, which is unsurprising considering your parentage. Why aren't you on the team?"

"I don't care much for Quidditch," she said.

Rowle laughed. "Of course you don't. So much potential in such a small body, and you don't even want it."

Again, she was left wondering what he meant. But she shrugged the question off. He would be gone at the end of the year and would subsequently not be her problem.

"Fine! A race. Then you leave me alone." Why was he there anyway? Surely he was able to revise for his NEWTS at home. And wasn't he invited to the Malfoy's ball as well? She doubted the school would just let him floo willy nilly, too and from homes. Though he was seventeen. Maybe the rules were a little more flexible when you were of age.

"Swell," he said, grinning. "From the goal post on one end to the other."

"And I get four seconds."

"Sure."

They flew to the starting point. Halley had resigned herself to not trying too hard but as soon as they started the race and she was off, she felt something else take over. The freedom and absolute exhilaration that came from flying.

The broom was holding up fairly well all things considered, but as she saw Rowle from the corner of her eye and leaned further forward to gain speed, she could feel the slight tremors of its inability to deal with the additional wind resistance. Still she pushed on. She was in front of him for about halfway and then Rowle was next to her, grinning like the god-damned idiot he insisted on being, and then he had passed her.

Within two seconds he was at the goal post, and he had won.

"That was surprisingly good Potter," he said.

"Thanks. Now, goodbye."

"Try out for the team next year," he said. "Get yourself a better broom with all that Potter gold accruing interest and try out for Chaser. Or Seeker if you can handle it." Rowle looked at her with that stupidly superior look, and then oh so casually leaned backwards on his broom and let her go.

As much as she didn't want to be, Halley was left feeling an intense amount of pride at the fact that she had even managed to stay ahead of him for so long on the school broom. She'd never raced anyone before, and if that was what it was like, she could imagine it was the exact reason that people loved playing Quidditch. Loved flying.

But she probably wouldn't try out for the team. Organised sports wasn't really her thing, and if she had to play with the likes of Malfoy and Flint then she wasn't sure she wanted to at all.

Still, as she caught her breath again and the feeling of adrenaline left her body, she couldn't help but look at Rowle and wonder why he had taken such an interest in her flying abilities. He was Slytherin after all, and Head Boy to boot. He didn't just say things for no reason.

Despite her rescinded invitation, Greengrass was still very active in finding out information about the Unbreakable Vow. A day or so from Christmas, Halley received a detailed letter from both Greengrass and Parkinson describing what they knew about the thing she quickly had come to hate.

She had been at lunch when the owl dropped the letters. Everyone who stayed behind was forced to eat at the same table, so at least she didn't need to worry that Weasley (she thought it was the Prefect) was going to attack her. At least he wouldn't be able to under the pathetically sorrowful looks that Lupin was giving her.

But she would have been stupid to open it in front of everyone, especially because Rowle was side-eying her. So, she decided to leave lunch earlier and read them in the privacy of her dorm.

Greengrass' letter gave her most of the basics.

Season's Greetings Halley.

I've enclosed the following that I've managed to research about the Unbreakable Vow according to no less than three of my father's books on the subject. It seems to be a heavily monitored spell, so, I've got very little other than the facts at this point. Though, Father seems amenable to me learning more over the summer.

The spell is a powerful one. There must always be at least three people when the spell is being cast: the Caster, the Binder and the Recipients.

The Caster isn't usually a Recipient though it does happen on occasion. They act as the judge in a sense, making sure the demands are understood on both ends. More than one person can make demands to be fulfilled, though the more people there are making demands the more complicated the magic is and therefore, the more likely you may be to make a mistake.

You don't want to be making mistakes when it comes to the Unbreakable Vow.

It binds the Caster and the Recipient to each other, and to magic itself. If broken by either party, it results in the immediate death of the one who broke it. The magic of the vow is often exact, so wording must be exact too. Loopholes can, therefore, be found and exploited though you have to be incredibly careful when trying that.

From the books, I've found that the Vow can only be released in two ways; firstly if either or the recipients die the vow becomes null and void. Though it's not confirmed, I would also think that if a situation changed in which the Vow is not necessary, for example if you were vowed to keep someone's identity a secret but their identity became common knowledge, the vow would no longer hold. I'm wary about this but I'll try and do more research on it.

The second way the books referenced is if the Caster relieves the Recipient of their vows. The book cites a fulfilled deal as the most common reason for this.

The vow must also be fulfilled during your lifetime, though I think this is just because you're dead and so it doesn't matter anymore. As far as I'm aware, you can't make the Vow without being willing, i.e., you can't make it while under the Imperius Curse or under Amortentia, but you can make it under duress.

That's as much as I've found out for now, but I'll keep researching. I've attached your Yule gift with our owl, and I'll see you again at the start of term.

With regards,
Daphne

It was informative and she'd learnt more about it, but the factual things weren't going to help very much in terms of how it would work with Riddle. Still, at least she knew she may be able to find a loophole in his demand. And that if he died, she wouldn't need to worry about it at all. But that wasn't very likely.

Parkinson's letter was far shorter:

I've found out something interesting from Mother. I'll tell you about it when we're back - it's too long to write out.

Don't die whilst we're home, Potter.

She appreciated how candid Parkinson stayed. Despite Greengrass' apparent life debt, Halley still didn't know what her angle was, and it made her uncomfortable. But Parkinson very clearly didn't like her and was only acting under the guidance of her mother.

Not ideal, but understandable.

At least the letter held promise. Whatever Parkinson had found was likely something that was going to be helpful; she wouldn't have said anything otherwise.

There was also a package from Parkinson too. Nothing big, but Halley couldn't help but feel guilty that she wasn't able to reciprocate the gifts. She still wasn't able to go to Hogsmeade, and she still didn't have any real access to her Gringotts account - something she really needed to change - and so it irked her that she owed them something else.

Halley let her head fall against her headboard with a loud thud. She was so sick of feeling like she couldn't do anything for anything in her life. If fourteen was the age of accepted responsibility, then maybe next year she would be more in control of what was hers! And maybe she could rely some on Madame Parkinson. She was so willing to offer her help by way of Parkinson, so maybe Halley should take advantage.

31st October 1992

Of all the nights, Samhain - as she'd come to call it - had been the night that she'd always had the most fun. Before her letter, Halloween had meant too many sweets and chocolates for Dudley to keep track of. It meant a sugar coma so intense; she could usually sneak into his room and steal one, or two - but no more than five.

When she'd come to Hogwarts, that first Halloween meal had been like something out of a fairy tale. The decorations were magical, and the food was to die for.

Even the Slytherins, who had been a bit chilly to her earlier in the year, had jokingly told her about the sacrifices their ancestors had made on Samhain.

This year was supposed to be just as good. But Malfoy had ruined it - and he hadn't even been trying this time. "You're pretty happy Potter, considering what happened tonight and all. It even seems a bit disrespectful."

"What are you talking about this time?" Halley asked, sipping on some apple juice.

"You mean you don't know?"

The table became quieter as the occupants listened, carefully, so as not to draw attention to themselves.

"Now might not be the best time, Draco." Theodore Nott spoke from across the table.

Halley looked to him and then back to Malfoy. This seemed to be a bad idea, but his smug face was almost too much to handle. And she couldn't just ignore his goading now. Not when everyone was listening.

He had a piece of information that involved her. And while it could be lies, it could also be the truth.

"I always know what you're talking about, Malfoy. I think it has something to do with how Gryffindor-ish your subtlety is."

His face went red, and Halley happily turned back to her food.

"Disrespectful Halfblood. No wonder you're here enjoying yourself instead of paying respects to your parents. Your father must be rolling in his grave."

Halley stilled. What was he talking about?

"You really don't know?" Malfoy goaded. He laughed, mocking her with his stupid upturned nose. "This is the anniversary of your parents' deaths. Some daughter you are."

Her parent's death date? It was today?

"Oh, that's incredible," Malfoy began again. And Halley wasn't sure she wanted to hear the next bit. "The Girl Who Lived doesn't know the date her parents sacrificed themselves for her."

Halley's green eyes peered into Malfoy's grey ones as she stood up from the table. Her hair, ever so slightly standing on end. He knew, when she spoke in that cold and clipped tone, that he had gone too far.

"Thank you for informing me of that Draco. I'll be sure to repay you for your kindness."

He shivered.

Halley collected her bag and made her way out of the Hall. She needed to be anywhere but there.

How had she not known? Especially after she had read all those books on what the Wizarding World believed had happened. Her heart raced and she choked back tears.

She'd not done anything wrong, so why was she crying? Her parents would want her to live, so she had. And they had sacrificed themselves, but what else were they supposed to do?

Halley ran into the first open door she saw, finding herself in a toilet. She quickly turned on the tap and tried to wash away the tears, but the damage was done. Her eyes were red, and tears kept coming.

She sank to the floor, trying to use the still rushing water to focus her mind away from her thoughts, but it didn't work.

It wasn't fair!

It wasn't fair that she suddenly felt guilty over something she hadn't known about. Over something that she had no choice in. Halley hated the moniker that followed her. She hated how every scrap of power she gained in her House could so easily be teared down, because there were so many things she didn't fucking know!

"This is my bathroom. Go find your own to cry in," a nasally voice sounded from overhead. Halley looked up to see a ghost through one of the stall doors.

"What?" Moaning Myrtle. Of all the bathrooms, she'd chosen this one. Why?

"I'm trying to wallow in my toilet, and I can't do it if you're in here screeching."

"Screeching?" Halley repeated. "Screeching?"

"You're not very bright. Get out! This is my toilet."

On any other day, Halley would have. But today it was too much. Too many things in too short a space of time. "

Tell me Moaning Myrtle," the ghost huffed indignantly, leaning further out of the bathroom to tell the squirt of a girl - who was only now starting to stand up - off for calling her that name. "If a ghost's place of haunting is destroyed, can they ever move on?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

Halley took out her wand and aimed it at the cubicle Myrtle was in. It would do very little damage to the ghost, but it would make her feel so much better. "What are you doing?" Myrtle shrieked.

"Reducto."

The blast had a bigger impact than she had expected, but it was satisfying all the same to hear the impact of her spell. Halley flung herself behind the sink in an attempt to avoid the glass and wood, her heart pounding again, this time, out of excitement.

When it was all clear, she got up and looked at her work. There was very little of the original toilet left. Just bits of wood and part of the toilet bowl there. Water was leaking everywhere. Myrtle was nowhere to be found.

Regardless, she needed to get away from the toilets before one of the professors came to find out what had happened.

She scampered through the puddles of water and ran out of the toilet. She was still angry, but the adrenaline had taken over, and now her heart was pounding in her ears. She was so unaware of herself that when she felt a hand grab her, spun around and pointed her wand at the victim.

"Hey! Calm down Potter, it's us." Through the haze in her head, Halley registered Pansy Parkinson's voice. "I told you we should have left her alone. This is what we get when you become all Hufflepuff."

Halley moved her wand down as she looked at Greengrass. "What are you both doing here?"

"We were trying to find you!" Parkinson hissed. "Daphne thought Malfoy was a bit harsh. And he was."

Halley frowned. "I didn't need you to check up on me. I'm fine."

"Yeah, because destroying the girl's toilets is considered fine."

"You saw that?"

"Don't worry." Greengrass smiled. "We won't tell anyone. It wouldn't do Slytherin any good if we did."

Halley didn't know whether to thank her or cry. Well she did, obviously, but still.

'...kill her…'

"I didn't kill her. You can't kill a ghost," Halley said bluntly. The two girls looked towards each other, then back to Halley.

"We weren't even talking about Moaning Myrtle anymore." Greengrass told her.

Halley frowned. "But one of you said I killed her."

"No," Parkinson deadpanned. "We didn't."

"Well something like that then!" Halley yelled.

"Keep your voice down Potter!" Parkinson hissed.

'...rip...tear, kill…'

Halley's head followed the voice as it moved. It was obviously not either of the two girls, they hadn't moved from the spot she'd raised her wand at them. This was something else. It was heading to her left.

"Where are you going?" Parkinson asked.

"There's a voice going that way. It wants to kill."

"A voice? Are you sure?" Greengrass asked.

Halley shushed her.

'...I smell blood!'

Halley's stomach lurched. She began running towards the voice, though she wasn't likely going to be able to do much.

"Potter, you're going to give yourself awa - oh Morgana!"

Something was shining on the wall ahead. Halley approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been drawn on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

"What's that thing - hanging underneath?" asked Greengrass. There was obvious hesitation in her voice, but it was also laced with curiosity.

"I don't know," Halley whispered.

She stepped into the puddle of water surrounding the wall, only just realising that they were very close to the toilet she had just blown up. She inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

"Potter, what did you do?" Parkinson asked, horrified.

"I didn't do that!" She was panicking a little bit.

"What spell did you use?" Greengrass asked.

"Just Reducto."

"Just?" Greengrass frowned. "That's a fourth-year spell."

"Does that matter? We need to get as far away from here as possible before -" The rumble of footsteps had come too close for them to escape. Suddenly, there were about fifty people coming up to them, only to stop dead, the hall ringing with silence, as they saw what was on the wall.

Halley stood in the centre as Malfoy walked to the front of the crowd, breaking the silence. "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods."

Halley's blood boiled at the boy's suddenly flushed face. He was too smug, too happy that this had happened. She wanted to punch him!

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs Norris?" he shrieked. There was no answer because who could. But Filch's eyes fell to the people closest to his beloved cat. "You!" he screeched. Halley clutched at her wand on instinct, standing in front of the two girls next to her. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll -"

"Argus!" Dumbledore's booming voice stopped the man short. Faster than he should have been able to, he swept past the three of them and carefully detached Mrs Norris off the wall.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Miss Potter, Miss Parkinson and Miss Greengrass."

Parkinson threw Halley a dirty glare, and she made to move. Halley stared unblinkingly back.

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free -"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore. So did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Halley saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her.

Greengrass was stiff - Halley could feel it pressed besides her. Parkinson looked to the floor.

The tip of Dumbledore's crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing an odd expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile, but Halley couldn't tell the reason for it.

And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making unnecessary suggestions.

Halley had never seen Filch cry. She didn't know he could. There was a strange feeling in her stomach as she watched the man sob so hard that he was having trouble breathing. It made her feel sick.

Before she could analyse the feeling any further, Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

Halley felt Greengrass' and Parkinson's tension release, and she looked at the cat. She'd doubted it had been - or at the very least, she'd questioned it's 'deadness'. She didn't think that you went so stiff after you died. Not so soon.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been petrified," said Dumbledore "But how, I cannot say . . . "

Filch was silent for a moment before pointing a blackened nail at Halley. "Ask her!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to the girl.

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced -"

"She did it, she did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what she wrote on the wall!" Filch's face worked horribly. "She knows I'm a Squib!" he finished.

Halley narrowed her eyes. "Why would I want to get rid of Squibs? I have nothing against them. While we're on this subject, what would I have against Muggleborns? My mother was one."

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. Halley grit her teeth.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows. Halley didn't know what to expect. "Potter and her companions may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was she in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't she at the Halloween feast?"

Greengrass stood forward. Snape's eyes sharpened at the movement. "Halley was at the feast. But a comment was made about her parents and Halley left the Hall."

"Why go up that corridor?"

"I wasn't aware of myself. I was angry, I didn't plan to go that way," she said. It pained her to say it in front of her head of House. Especially when he looked like he'd smelt something dirty as soon as she'd said it. But there was nothing else to it. She'd lost control.

"I think," Dumbledore said, "Miss Potter and her friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"My cat has been Petrified!" Filch shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep -"

"Excuse me, but I believe I am the Potions master at this school," Snape said.

There was a very awkward pause as the adults tried to act like it hadn't happened. Halley just wanted to go to bed. Then, as if hearing her thoughts, Dumbledore turned to the three of them.

"You may go," he said.

They all left quickly. When they were far enough away to not get caught, Parkinson took hold of Halley's wrist to stop her.

"What was that Potter? Hearing voices now? Maybe Malfoy was right about you."

Halley's eyes flashed with anger before she got her emotions back under control.

"I don't know."

Parkinson was about as happy with that answer as Halley was herself. "What do you mean you don't know?"

Greengrass stepped in between the two of them, her blonde hair the tiniest bit dishevelled from the events of the evening. It was nice to know that she wasn't perfect. "Pansy, stop."

Parkinson glared.

"I don't know what I heard. It was quiet and it sounded like it was going to kill someone."

"So you went to investigate? What are you? A bloody Gryffindor?"

Halley shook her head. "I can't tell you anything, because I don't know anything! What I do know is that whoever, or whatever did this, wants the school to be scared."

"Do you think the Chamber of Secrets has really been opened?" Greengrass asked.

Neither could give her an answer, and they all just stood in the hallway, not quite knowing what to say but each aware of the consequences an open Chamber would bring.

Then the clock struck ten and the three looked around, startled. "I think we should get back to the Dungeons," Halley said.

The two agreed.