Chapter Twenty-Seven – The Dueling Club

Colin Creevy, unlike most Slytherin students, did not think himself bound to socialize only with those of his own house. Naturally friendly and outgoing, it did not take long for his presence in class to be missed. For a short time, only his Slytherin peers knew the truth, but it did not take long before an intrepid Ravenclaw thought to ask Pandey where Colin had gone, and soon the whole school knew of the attack.

The spread of this information did nothing to help Harry's reputation. Once the story was out, Slytherin students were mobbed by the other houses, as everyone wanted to know the full details. Many of Harry's fellow housemates, stunned and flattered by the attention, were eager to share the detail that Colin had once bad-mouthed Slytherin's legacy in Harry's presence, and that Harry had followed Colin up the dormitory stairs soon after. Rumor had it that he argued with Colin, defending Slytherin's honor and threatening to silence Colin if he continued his attempts to defame the house founder. It was complete rubbish, but people believed it just the same.

Harry knew better than to try to combat the waves of gossip against him, and he continued to go about his day as if nothing was wrong. Privately, he was more determined than ever to discover the true heir and bring him to justice. Only then would his name be entirely cleared.

Meanwhile, Colin's petrified state sent the rest of the school in a frenzy. Terrified first years went everywhere in packs, as if afraid of being caught alone, and a booming trade in magic talismans and amulets seemed to spring up overnight. The older students knew that the garbage being traded off was completely useless, but the younger students were more gullible, and fell pray to them easily. Harry himself saw Fred and George Weasley trying to sell a string of garlic bulbs to some of the Hufflepuffs from one of his classes, and he stepped in to reprimand them, hating to see the students get cheated.

The Weasley twins laughed in the face of Harry's scolding, but they walked away without trying to sell any more products to the first-years. Yet they couldn't resist throwing a few barbed comments at Harry as they went.

"I guess you won't be needing these, will you Potter?"

"Worried that if anyone has these, you won't be able to sick your beastie on them?"

"C'mon, give the people a fair chance!"

They laughed at their own cruel jokes, and Harry watched them go with his arms over his chest. He turned with a friendly expression to the Hufflepuffs, saying, "Don't listen to them. Those things wouldn't help, anyway."

But the Hufflepuffs merely looked horrified. They hurried away without saying a word to Harry, and he realized only after they were gone that his words must have sounded like a threat to them.

Irritated beyond description, Harry continued walking to the library, where he planned to meet Millie and Blaise. He found them in their favorite study corner. Blaise was busy writing out three copies of their pending charms essays, while Millie copied down cheat sheets for their potions final on bits of parchment.

"That'll never work," Harry said as he took a seat across from them, "Snape can spy a hidden note from a mile off."

Blaise nodded in agreement, not looking up from his essay. "He could probably smell it with that big nose of his."

With a disgruntled sigh, Millie waved her wand, and the scraps instantly burned away to little piles of ash.

"Did you see the notice board?" Blaise asked suddenly, brushing a bit of fallen ash away from the edge of his parchment.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. The notice board in the common room normally held student fliers asking for lost things or posts from the prefects reminding students of the school rules. Occasionally, some prankster would put up a silly drawing or limerick, but other than that, he usually walked right past the board without glancing at it.

Sensing Harry's lack of interest, Blaise abruptly set their essays aside and leaned toward him, an excited twinkle in his eye.

"They're starting up a dueling club," he said.

"Dueling club?" repeated Harry, "What for? Do they think we can fend of Slytherin's beast with some spells?"

"I think it sounds fun," said Blaise, sitting back in his chair, "At the very least, it'll be nice to learn some new spells to use against Draco."

This was tempting. Even Millie expressed an interest in going, although she probably knew most of the jinxes that would be useful in a duel. Harry agreed to go along with his friends, and they signed up for the club as soon as they'd returned to their common room.

The following weekend, a crowd of students marched down to the Great Hall for the first Dueling Club meeting. The long dining tables and benches had been pushed against one wall, except for one, which was placed in the center of the room, forming a sort of runway though the milling crowd of students. Harry viewed the makeshift stage with trepidation.

"Who did you say was instructing this club?" Harry muttered to Blaise.

But Blaise only shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I didn't."

To Harry's dismay, the door to the hall's staff entrance opened, and Gilderoy Lockhart strolled into the room. Today he was in a suit as gold as his wavy hair. It shined as he walked down the length of the table, beaming from ear to ear. A hush had already fallen over the students, but Lockhart made a point of calling everyone to order, doing a sort of pirouette to make sure that all eyes were on him.

"Welcome, welcome everyone!" He said cheerfully, "Dumbledore has given me permission to host this little dueling club for all of you, and I hope you will find it as entertaining as it is educational! We will start with a demonstration of basic forms. Here to help me is a professor who I am sure needs no introduction...!"

He swept his arm grandly to demonstrate the figure who had risen on the opposite end of the table. Harry couldn't suppress a gasp as he noticed Professor Snape for the first time, looking like a spectre of death in his usual black robes. There was a murmur rippling through the students now, mostly from the Slytherins, who seemed surprised to see their Head of House standing on the same platform as Professor Lockhart. Snape did not bother to hide the fact that he preferred to spend as little time as possible near the Defense against the Dark Arts Teacher. Whispers circulated as they wondered what could have convinced him to volunteer has Lockhart's assistant.

Lockheart smiled, completely misinterpreting their concern.

"Now, now. Don't any of you worry. I'll be sure to leave your potions master mostly unharmed when I'm through with him."

Harry thought he'd rather take his chances against Slytherin's beast than duel Snape while he was making such a dark expression.

"Run, you idiot," Harry muttered to Lockhart under his breath, "Can't you see he's out for blood?"

Blaise leaned into Harry and whispered back, "Maybe he plans to off Lockhart and take his job."

"Let's hope so," Millie added.

The professors took their positions while Lockhart explained the proper way to begin a duel. They stood before one another, raising their wands in front of their faces in an upright position, then lowering them to the side. Lockhart added a graceful bow, though Snape only jerked his head spasmodically, then they turned their backs to each other and took ten paces in opposite directions. Lockhart turned to face his opponent, striking an impressive pose. Snape merely held his wand at the ready. At nearly the same time, they both took aim and fired, though Snape was a bit faster.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, and Lockhart was blasted clear off the table, eliciting screams from most of the female students. His wand had been knocked out of his hand.

Many of the Slytherin students gave appreciative applause, pleased in the performance of their Head of House. Lockhart quickly jumped to his feet, rearranging his hair and trying to cover his embarrassment with a dazzling smile.

"Yes, very good thinking, Severus! Showing the students the disarming spell. Of course, I could have blocked it if I'd liked, but I thought it would be good to let the students see how it's done."

Snape looked murderous, and this time Lockhart seemed to notice.

"Why don't we have you all give it a whirl?" he suggested quickly, "Let's have you pair off and practice."

Harry turned automatically toward Blaise, but in the next moment, Snape was sweeping down on them.

"I don't think so," he said in his oily way.

Harry turned hopefully to Millie, and Snape smirked.

"Guess again."

Harry decided to try a little reverse psychology.

"Please sir, I'd really like to try practicing with Malfoy. I've heard him say he's a great duelist, and I bet I could learn a lot from him," he said. Blaise tried to stifle a snort but was unsuccessful.

"My thoughts exactly," said Snape, beckoning his favorite student with a wave of his hand.

Malfoy seemed to be waiting for this very opportunity. He sprang to Snape's side, eager to do whatever was asked, and could barely contain his delight at being paired with Harry.

Harry didn't bother to hide his disappointment. Millie had been paired with Hermione Granger, and Blaise moved off to work with Ned Willowby. Harry felt like they had it easy. Granger was smart, but Millie could out-hex her any day. And though Willowby seemed nice, he was clearly a pushover. Blaise would have no trouble with him.

"Everyone have a partner?" Lockhart called over their heads. "Good! Now, on my signal! Three, two, one! Fire!"

Harry wasn't exactly sure what they were supposed to be doing, so he fired the first spell that popped into his mind. Unfortunately, the most of the others students were just as perplexed, and the result was complete pandemonium. Flashes of colored light fired left and right, closely followed by squeals and cries of pain. Harry managed to hit Malfoy in the chest with a tickling charm, and he fell to the floor in a fit of giggles. Unfortunately, Malfoy still had enough breath to shout his own curse at Harry, who was now performing a sort of one-man waltz around the floor, completely against his will.

"Enough, enough!" Lockhart cried, moving through the students and attempting to restore order. The students who were still attempting to fire off their spells abruptly stopped, and but for a few moans of pain, all was silent. Then a cry suddenly ripped through the still air.

"My teeth! You've knocked out one of my teeth!"

Harry's head whipped in the direction of the shouts, and he saw Blaise only a few yards away. He was holding his hand in front of his mouth, and even seen from a distance, it was obvious that dark blood was running down his chin.

Blaise continued to scream in outrage, repeating over and over that his tooth had been knocked out of his mouth by whatever spell had been directed against him. His fury was directed in the face of poor Willowby, who clutched his wand in both hands, as if terrified that Blaise would tear it away and beat him over the head with it.

Lockhart and Snape descended on them at the same time, the first pale and making soothing sounds, and the latter silent with an amused smile on his lips.

"Now, now, let's just see what the damage is," said Lockhart, trying to pry away Blaise's hand.

Blaise resisted him with all his might, and there was a brief struggle. Finally, Lockhart managed to pry his hand from his face, revealing Blaise's perfectly straight white teeth. Perfect, but for one missing tooth, right at the front, where only a black hole remained. Blaise's howls were more of outrage than of pain, though his face was covered in blood.

"Well, then. It's not so bad. If we can just find the tooth I can re-attach it in a jiffy."

Lockhart began casting his eyes around the floor, searching for the missing tooth. Several students jumped back a few paces, as if afraid that Blaise's missing piece had skittered under their robes.

"I think," said Snape coolly, "It would be far simpler to have Mr. Zabini visit the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey can regrow a tooth in minutes."

"I'll take him," Millie said, stepping forward from the crowd, "Not the first time I'll have to drag him to the hospital wing."

"Yes, thank you, Ms. Bulstrode!" said Lockhart, "Now, be on your way, Mr. Zabini! And my regards to your mother!"

Blaise appeared not to have heard him, he was still screaming at Willowby.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It was an accident, I swear!" Ned stammered in response, "I-I'm not very good at jinxes! I didn't know what would happen!"

"You're not sorry! But you will be!" Blaise warned in a threatening voice. Millie took his arm and began to physically drag him from the room. Blaise continued to scream until he was out the door, shouting over his shoulder, "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

Harry made as if to follow his two friends, but he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. Snape had caught him slinking away.

"I think it would be best to teach the children how to block spells," he said, his dull voice doing more to command attention than any posturing of Lockhart's.

Willowby looked prepared to faint, but Lockhart took no notice of him, and clapped his hands together to restore his place as the center of attention.

"You're quite right! And I think another demonstration is in order!"

"Might I suggest a pair of students lead by example?" Snape said, and Harry felt a feeling of dread coiling in his stomach.

Lockhart directed a side glance at Snape. He seemed to be recollecting the previous incident, in which Snape had propelled him against the wall with a simple disarming spell. He seized on Snape's offer eagerly, and it came as no surprise to anyone that his grasp landed on Harry.

"Marvelous idea, Severus!" He said as he pulled Harry from the bystanders and hauled him onto the makeshift stage. "And I think Mr. Potter won't begrudge a little opportunity to stand in the spotlight!"

"No, I daresay he wouldn't..." Snape replied with a thin-lipped smile as he motioned for Draco to join him.

Harry knew he was in trouble. Lockhart was completely useless when it came to casting spells. Of that he was certain. He dropped his own wand while demonstrating to Harry a complicated twirling movement that was supposed to counter hexes. Harry, on the other hand, had learned quite a few jinxes from Millie, but she lived by the philosophy of "the best defense is a good offense," and blocking techniques were not something that had ever come up in their private lessons. Harry watched as Snape whispered something in Draco's ear that made the blond boy grin malevolently, and he knew that Snape had something nefarious in store for him.

"There now, have you got it?" Lockhart asked Harry.

"Er..." Harry replied intelligently, having not absorbed a word of what was said.

Snape was already pushing Draco forward. Lockhart gave Harry a quick pat, saying "Not to worry, I'm sure you'll do just fine!" Then Harry found himself being shoved forward as well. He managed to catch himself before falling on his face, saving some of his dignity, and strolled toward Draco, feigning more confidence than he really felt.

The two boys stood face to face, raising their wands before them in imitation of their professors.

"Scared, Potter?" Draco asked as he flicked his wand to the side.

Harry smiled at him. "Are you?"

To Harry's credit, Draco looked slightly ruffled by this casual response. Harry spun away, relishing in Draco's confusion, and took his ten paces down the length of the table before turning to face his opponent.

Perhaps Draco wanted to catch him off guard, or maybe he was simply too excited, but Harry had hardly turned before Draco shouted, "Serpensortia!"

From the end of Draco's wand burst a long, black snake. It fell to the ground halfway between them, angered by the force of the fall. It rose up, fanning out its hood and hissing at the students nearest to it. They screamed and shuffled backward in terror, pressing their bodies against the students directly behind them, who seemed torn between wanting to get a better look, and preferring to stay as far away as possible.

"Relax," Snape intoned in his low voice, "I will remove it for you, Mr. Potter."

"Allow me!" Lockhart exclaimed before Snape even had a chance to draw his wand. Harry knew something horrible was about to happen, and he was quite right. With another sweeping flourish of his wand, Lockhart sent the snake flying into the crowd of students, who screamed and fled as the snake dropped over their heads.

A space quickly cleared away from one student in particular. Harry saw Willowby standing alone, abandoned by those closest to him. The snake had fallen around his shoulders and was hissing and spitting in outrage very near his ear. Willowby was standing still, his face as white as parchment. One wrong move and the snake would realize the warm perch it just found would be perfect to bite.

"Excuse me!" Harry shouted at the snake, hoping to draw its attention away from Ned. The snake's head swiveled in his direction, piercing him with its beady black eyes.

Harry was confident that he could reason with it. It may be an enchanted snake that manifested from Malfoy's spell, but if it could understand him, then perhaps it would be no different than talking to Noodle.

"Hello there, sorry about all the fuss," Harry said, not knowing if his attempt at a pleasant tone translated well into parseltongue. "No one here is trying to hurt you. This is all a misunderstanding."

The snake flicked its tongue out and hissed, Did you summon me?

Harry thought it sounded decidedly unfriendly, so he replied, "Er, no. Not me. Actually, it's that bloke over there."

He pointed to Draco, who looked like he was going to gag. The snake quickly slithered down from Ned's shoulders and began rocketing across the hall, straight at Draco. Perhaps it was looking for revenge, but with a wave of his wand, Snape had made the creature disappear to wherever it had come from.

Harry turned back to see how Willowby was faring after this near-death experience, but this time the boy really had fainted. Some students were crouched next to him, and they were all staring at Harry. In fact, all eyes in the Great Hall were turned toward him, and the room was deadly silent.

"Er, it's okay everybody!" Harry said, waving his hand to the crowd, "I talked to the snake and it was just a little miffed about the spell, is all. No harm done."

Whispers broke out across the hall like the hissing of many snakes, and it was a language Harry understood as well as parseltongue. He'd revealed his ability to the whole school. If they didn't think he was the heir of Slytherin before, they certainly did now.

Harry felt a vice-like grip on his shoulder and was suddenly being dragged from the room. Snape pulled him into the hall, away from the Dueling Club. Harry could just make out Lockhart's fading voice as he tried to restore order to his audience.

Snape didn't say a word to Harry until they reached his office, where he shoved Harry roughly into a wooden chair in front of his desk. Snape remained standing before him, leaning against his desk for support and rolling his wand between the fingers of his right hand.

"You speak parseltongue," he stated.

It wasn't a question, and he wasn't wrong. Harry said nothing.

"Why?" Snape demanded when Harry remained silent.

"Why can I talk to snakes? I dunno, I just can," Harry replied.

Snape's nostrils flared in anger. "And how long have you been keeping this ability a secret?"

"I wasn't keeping it a secret," Harry said, relying on a half-truth, "I've been talking to Blaise's snake all year."

He didn't know if it was wise to admit that Blaise and Millie had been aware of his ability, but the truth was out now.

"How long?"

"Since forever, I guess. I once talked a snake into chasing my cousin Dudley at the zoo. That was fun. I hope he got to Brazil..."

"Brazil..." Snape mouthed. Harry read the word more than heard it.

"The snake, not my cousin," Harry clarified, wondering if his story had confused the Potions Master.

A few minutes passed in silence, and Snape continued to stare at Harry as if he had sprouted horns from his head.

"I don't really see what the big deal is," Harry finally muttered.

"The big deal, as you put it Potter, is that the ability to speak parseltongue is incredibly rare. It is a trait known to be possessed by Salazar Slytherin himself."

"I know," Harry said. Then he waited. Perhaps Snape was about to accuse him of being the heir. Or perhaps they both knew that theory was ridiculous.

"Sorry, sir," Harry added, "But is it against the rules to be a parselmouth? Because if not, I'll just be on my way."

He expected Snape to make some excuse, but to his surprise, Snape allowed him to rise from his chair and make his way toward the door. Snape only had one thing more to say to him, which he stated just as Harry was about to close the door.

"If I were you, Potter, I would be very careful about how I use that ability."

Harry pretended as if he hadn't heard him, and continued out the door.

He knew that returning to the dueling club would be unwise, so he decided to see if Blaise was finished up in the hospital wing. He met him just as Blaise was heading out the door, his tooth fully regrown.

"Madame Pomfrey has this skele-grow stuff. Nasty, but it did the trick," Blaise said, offering Harry a wide grin to show off his pearly white tooth. It was a slightly brighter shade than the others, but Harry was careful not to mention this fact to his extremely vain friend. Instead, he asked about Millie.

"Still inside. The cat, you know," said Blaise.

"Right. Did you see Ned?"

"Do you mean Willowby? No, why?"

"I thought they might have brought him here," said Harry, and he quickly recounted to Blaise what he had missed.

"So much for our secret language plan." Blaise sighed.

"I can still teach you, if you want," offered Harry, who wasn't so keen on being the only parselmouth in school while rumors about the chamber were spreading. "But it will have to wait. I need to find Ned and explain what happened. I mean, I practically saved his life, and he probably thinks I was egging the snake on or something."

Harry planned to talk to Willowby during their shared Herbology class, but it was canceled that week. Professor Sprout had to tend to the Mandrakes, and she didn't trust anyone else with the job as the plants drew closer to maturity. Harry did not want to wait. The winter holiday was quickly approaching, and he wanted to clear up any misunderstanding with Ned before then. He tried the library first, seeing as it was close to exams, and most of the student body was busy with their studies.

He was used to the stares and the whispered conversations that broke off abruptly as he passed. He didn't much care what his peers thought about him, and even amused himself by asking a few passerby if they had seen Willowby, just to see the horrified looks on their faces when he addressed them. It was funny, until he overheard a conversation near one of the back corners of the library.

It was a group of Gryffindor boys. They hadn't seen Harry prowling among the bookshelves, and so they continued their conversation in loud whispers, thinking they were unobserved. Harry recognized Ron Weasley at the center of the group.

"It's definitely Potter," said Weasley as his friends nodded eagerly in agreement. "I mean, he's a parselmouth. How much more guilty can you get? Probably inherited from his great-great-grandad Slytherin. I've always said there wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."

"But the cat who was attacked belonged to Potter's friend," said a boy who was leaning on the back two legs of his chair. Harry thought he recognized him from Potions class, but couldn't remember his name.

"That's just to throw off suspicion," Weasley argued, "But Potter would have access to that cat, wouldn't he? And he wanted to send a message. Probably not satisfied with all the fame he got when his parents were killed. No, he wants to make a name for himself, and figured Heir of Slytherin had a nice ring to it."

Harry wasn't surprised to hear the harsh words. He already knew that most of the school suspected him. At one time, Ron Weasley's negative impression of him might have hurt Harry. But now, with the memory of their first train ride to Hogwarts long behind him, Harry only felt a touch of malicious enjoyment as he stepped out from behind the bookshelf.

"What? Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, isn't good enough?" he asked shamelessly.

Harry had to fight very hard not to burst into laughter at the looks of fear on their faces. Weasley's jaw had dropped to his chest, while the others whipped their heads back and forth between the two, as if expecting Harry to curse Weasley right then and there. Only the boy leaning back in his chair smiled, looking at Harry as if he wanted to congratulate him on a well-played prank. Harry wished he could remember his name.

Ron seemed to recollect himself under the suspenseful glances of his friends. Closing his mouth with a snap, he cleared his throat importantly, and replied, "Well, if it's not for attention, then you just hate muggle-borns. I suppose you got a distaste for them living with that muggle family of yours?"

"I don't hate muggle-borns," Harry replied in a level tone, "If you ask me, pure-blood wizards are just as bad. Not unlike your own family, Weasley."

Ron's face flushed as scarlet as his hair, and he stood abruptly from the table.

"If that's an attack on my father, let me tell you..."

"I don't even know your father," interrupted Harry, "I was talking about you."

He might have continued, but his eyes were drawn to a slight movement behind a bookcase in the invisibility section. Harry was certain he had seen Willowby's wide eyes watching him before ducking out of sight. Harry turned away abruptly and began to follow him, ignoring the outraged voice of Weasley behind him.

"Ned!" Harry called in a whisper.

The figure at the end of the row came to a stop before he could duck around the corner, and Harry knew that he had his man. He jogged up to Willowby's side and placed a hand on his shoulder, turning the boy to face him.

"Ned, I'm sorry," Harry began in a hurry, trying to get out what he wanted to say before Willowby could try to run away again, "I wasn't trying make the snake attack. I just wanted him to leave you alone."

"I know."

"You have to believe that I would never... wait, what?"

"I know you were only trying to help, Harry."

Harry's hand dropped from Willowby's shoulder and he took a step back. "But... You know I'm a parselmouth?"

"Of course. I was there, remember? The whole school must know by now."

"But you aren't afraid of me? You don't think it was me who...?"

"You're not the heir of Slytherin, Harry. I would swear to it."

Willowby seemed so confident. He was able to look Harry directly in the eye as he professed his belief in his innocence. But there was still something wrong. Willowby's voice was very quiet, even for speaking in the library. And he kept shuffling his feet, or breaking eye contact to look fearfully over his shoulder.

Something clicked in Harry's brain, and he asked, "If you're not afraid of me, then who are you afraid of?"

Willowby took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the sound coming out as a shudder.

"How well do you really know Zabini?"

"Blaise?" Harry repeated, flabbergasted, "I told you already, Blaise has nothing to do with any of this."

"How can you be so sure? Everything people are saying about you, Harry... Couldn't it be true for Blaise as well?"

"Blaise isn't a parselmouth, I am."

"I've seen him between classes, hissing at that snake of his. I didn't think of it before, because it was like people who meow at their cats, you know? But now..."

"He was probably just practicing. I've been teaching him and Millie how to do it."

"But what if he could do it the whole time and he's just pretending?"

"Ned, I know he scared you when you knocked out his tooth, but it's fine now. He probably doesn't even remember it."

Willowby shook his head back and forth, taking a few steps backward, away from Harry.

"I should have known you'd just defend him," he muttered quietly.

Before Harry had time to respond, Willowby turned and sprinted from the library, drawing curious stares from the students he passed. Harry watched him go in shock, then felt hot anger rise in his stomach at the injustice of the accusation against Blaise. Willowby couldn't leave without giving Harry a chance to refute his allegations. Harry quickly followed him. He figured Willowby must be running to the safety of Ravenclaw Tower, and though he wasn't sure where the entrance was located, he felt fairly certain he knew the general direction, if he could just keep up with Willowby and follow him there...

Harry slammed into something warm and solid at a dead run, and fell onto his bottom with a heavy thud.

"Harry!" cried an all too familiar voice. Harry pushed himself to his feet and rubbed his sore rear as he looked into the bushy, bearded face of the gamekeeper.

"Hello Hagrid," Harry said, fully prepared to dart away again, his mind on Willowby. However, his attention was caught by the feathered corpses dangling from one of Hagrid's enormous hands.

"Um, Hagrid? What are you doing?"

Hagrid lifted the limp forms for Harry to get a better look, which was entirely unnecessary for Harry's comfort. The dead, glassy black eyes of the chickens stared back at him.

"Someone's strangled my chickens. There isn't a soul left in the school. I'm off to report the incident to Dumbledore."

"Oh, I see. Well, don't let me keep you," Harry said, starting to move around his gigantic friend.

"Hold on there! What's yer hurry?" Hagrid called after him.

"I'll tell you after!" Harry called back, not wanting Hagrid to delay him another second. If he hurried, he could still catch up with Willowby before he made it to his common room. Rumor had it that Ravenclaw students didn't have a password for their dormitories. Instead, they had to answer a riddle. Harry was hoping that Willowby would be waylaid by a particularly difficult puzzle when he once again found himself toppling to the floor, this time falling forward. He had the briefest, most curious sensation of being doused in ice water before smacking both of his knees on the hard stone floor. He cried out in pain, wincing at the thought of the bruises that were sure to form, and turned to see what had tripped him.

He saw Willowby first. The boy was laying on the floor not two feet from him. He was on his back, his eyes wide open and his face in an expression of pure terror. Harry had never seen anything so frightening in his life, minus his revolting encounter with Voldemort the year before. Desperate to focus his attention on anything other than Willowby's pitiful face, he glanced upward, and saw what had caused the curious freezing feeling.

It was a ghost. He must have passed through her body when he fell. It took him a moment to recognize the figure. Her usual pearly white appearance had turned dark, like smoke, and she was hovering a short distance from Ned, horizontal and unmoving. It was the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw house ghost.

Harry was suddenly terrified. Willowby had been fine only moments ago. Whatever had done this had worked fast, and might at that moment still be in the corridor, lurking in shadows. Harry tried to calm the panicked gasps escaping his mouth and focus his attention on listening. He heard nothing. No mysterious voice whispering threats... Only the faint murmur of students in their afternoon classes.

Thinking of the other students made Harry keenly aware of how bad his situation was. If someone found him like this, the rumors surrounding him would seem to be confirmed. How many students had seen him chase Willowby out of the library? Harry needed to get away from there, and fast.

He jumped to his feet, ignoring the sting in his knees, and took several hurried steps back down the hall. He only made it a few feet before he stopped an turned back. Willowby and the Grey Lady were in the same spots, still staring blankly into space. Harry couldn't just leave them there. The Grey Lady was already dead, but what if the Heir came back to finish the job it had started with Ned?

Thinking quickly, Harry reached into his bookbag to draw out his invisibility cloak, thankful that he had resumed his old habit of carrying it with him. He threw the cloak over his head, secure in the fact that if the Heir or someone else did come along, he would be out of sight and suspicion. Then he raised his wand and muttered, "Tumultum."

Instantly their was a loud BANG that reverberated along the silent corridor. Harry heard some screams of surprise from the nearest classrooms, and a moment later Professor Sinistra had opened her classroom door to investigate the source of the noise. She gasped when her gaze fell on the two bodies, and she quickly tried to prevent her students from seeing. But many curious eyes were already crowded to peer around her, and all along the corridor heads were poking out of half opened doors. In a flash, the hall was crowded with people, all of them murmuring darkly. A few of the girls had started crying. Harry saw their Ravenclaw robes and wondered if they were friends of Willowby, or if like him, they were merely scared of what this meant.

Harry pressed himself as flat as he could against the wall as the hall continued to fill. He sidled along, trying very carefully not to trod on the hem of his cloak, and finally managed to break free of the throng at the entrance to the stairway. He spared one last glance behind him, comforted to see Professor McGonagall arrive on scene. Confident that Willowby would be taken care of, he hurried down to the relative safety of the Slytherin common room.