Disclaimer: One Piece and Harry Potter does not belong to me, each belongs to their respective author.

Challenge by TheBlackSeaReaper.

-.- The Writing on the Wall

October was coming to an end, and Halloween night suddenly became the most anticipated of all nights; The Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

Ace was enthusiastic about the parties, and who did not, really. But this time there were so many things that were rumored that it would not be a simple and boring banquet.

So at seven o'clock, Ace, Ron, Neville, Hermione and the twins walked straight to the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, the loud bustle of expectation flooded the place while each and every one of the students took a seat at the long tables decorated in golden tones, pumpkins, and dry autumn leaves.

They all sat together in the middle part of the Gryffindor table, commenting what they could eat, when all the teachers came in to sit at the main table. The tables were already full, all the students finished sitting down, when Professor Dumbledore stood up and announced in a calm voice: "That the Halloween feast begins" and clapping his hands the doors opened, letting several skeletons pass, instruments in hand, and they then they began to play.

After the meal was joined to the show a group of skeletons that danced to the sound of what the small group played and although Ace did not know all the songs, he shouted and applauded like the others, even louder.

They were in the middle of a song that spoke of a ghost or something when Ace stopped, being completely surprised.

It was a strange sensation like those in which you feel and know that there is someone behind you, before seeing, only that this time it was different, it felt that there was someone or something right on the other side of the great door of the great hall.

Something big and bloodthirsty, in his mind the image of Bluejam and Porchemy before attacking Luffy appeared.

Quickly, Ace stood up and jumped out of the bench, in the middle of the party no one noticed anything, only Ron and Hermione that exchanged a look as they stood up and went after the boy.

They found him in the middle of the hall directing his sight to all sides.

"What's wrong?" The girl asked.

Ace turned only to give them a brief glance, in which he only made sure of who had followed him, then continued to inspect the place in search of that unknown something.

"I felt it around here," Ace muttered agitatedly. "I felt something here"

"Haki?" Ron asked, to which the boy just nodded. "You said you did not know Kembushoku well."

"Kenbunshoku no Haki" corrected Hermione.

"I do not master it, I do not really know much more than the basics, but a lot of the Haki is instinctive"

Suddenly he stopped, all his senses alert. And then Ace heard it. " . . rip . . tear . . kill . . "It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard with Draco. Listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Ace, what're you…?"

"It's that voice again"

". . . soo hungry . . . for so long . . ."

"Listen!" said Ace urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching him.

". . . kill . . . time to kill . . ." The voice was growing fainter.

Ace was sure it was moving away — moving upward.

"Go back, I got this"

"No, we're going with you, and you will not be able to avoid that"

"Ace began to run, sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind him. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: ". . . I smell blood. . . . I SMELL BLOOD!" His stomach lurched…

"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps.

Death was not new to Ace, he had been around it for many years, since he was a child, and that had escalated as he grew up and left the island, his profession also kept him close to death. But this time, in this place, they were children, the idea that something so small and fragile was lost in something bloodthirsty made his interior turn in panic.

Ace hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ron and Hermione panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage. Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

"Look!" Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed 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?" Said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice. As they edged nearer, Ace felt his shoe sink in a large puddle of water on the floor; All three of them realized what it was at once what was hanging underneath, and two of them 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. For a few seconds, they did not move.

Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."

"Good idea, we don't want to be found here." But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends. The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Ace, Ron, and Hermione stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grayly sight. Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

For seconds that seemed eternal, the two boys kept their eyes on an internal duel. That was only interrupted when the powerful and frantic voice of Flilch, who stopped when he saw his cat.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked. And his popping eyes fell on Ace. "You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll —"

And he threw himself at the boy, while Fred and George came out of the crowd and jumped to the rescue of his friend, not that he needed it.

"Argus!" Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Ace, Ron, Fred, George and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. "Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too" and pointed to the three children who were originally on the scene.

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; Ace 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 laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her.

Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching. The tip of Dumbledore's long, 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 a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions. "It was definitely a curse that killed her — probably the Transmogrifian Torture… I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter curse that would have saved her. . . ." Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands.

Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed. ". . . I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once. . . ." The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net. At last Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, Argus," he said softly. Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented. "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 ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say. . . ."

"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Ace.

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

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He was there in first row" Filch's face worked horribly. "He… he!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows. "Portgas and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though I doubted it. "After all, we all saw him in the Great Hall, his whole group were very loud"

Ace could only smile, proud of himself.

"He was already there when everyone arrived, it must be them"

"We got tired, and decided to go to sleep," said Ron.

Dumbledore was giving Ace a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Ace feel as though he was being X-rayed, and sure he was, but as expected, a force pushed the old wizard away before he could even see anything, whatever Ace was doing. He was improving.

"Innocent until proven guilty" he said firmly. Filch looked furious.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he 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," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger. You may go," Dumbledore said. While a sound similar to drowning escaped from Lockhart's throat.

The children left the office, trying not to run, crossing the hall and up the stairs to the door of a room, where Neville and the twins were waiting for them.

"Are you okay?" Asked Neville

"Yes, but Mrs. Norris don't" answered Hermione

"She's petrified," Ron added.

"But how?"

"No idea"

Everyone's eyes were fixed on Ace, who was thoughtful.

"Ace, what happened down there?" Fred asked.

"I felt something, I do not know what it was exactly, but I felt something, and when we were outside I heard a voice," he said deep in thought, remembering how cold and bloody it sounded. "Maybe I should tell McGonagall"

"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world." Ace gave him a questioning look, as he raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that, I believe you," said Ron quickly. "But - you must admit it's weird. . . . "

"The whole thing's weird." said George "What was that writing on the wall about? 'The Chamber Has Been Opened'. . . . What's that supposed to mean?"

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

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," said Neville. "We'd better get to bed before someone tries to frame us for something else."

-.-

"If it make you feel more calm I can take you to the kitchen, not that anything is going to happen to you," Ace told Ginny days later, to which the girl frantically denied and walked away.

"You're really dense on the subject," Ron murmured.

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. 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. Neville had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy."

Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover. "But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her."

Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "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. The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nobody could get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.

Ace had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, he went upstairs to meet Ron in the library, and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. Ace had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction. Ace found Ron and Neville at the back of the library, the first measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a threefoot-long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards."

"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short. . . ." said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny."

"Where is she?" asked Ace, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Neville, pointing along the shelves.

"Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas." Added Ron scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible.

Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them. "All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Neville and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"Why do you want it?" said Ace.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" said Neville quickly.

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else —"

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it…"

"I only need another two inches, come on…" The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staffroom fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since. Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand. Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, 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. Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms. Professor Binns blinked. "My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with, facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers —" He stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again. "Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?" Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, Ace was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

"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 —" But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Ace could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest, and he found himself felling proud of his friend.

"Oh, very well," Binns said slowly. "Let me see . . . the Chamber of Secrets . . . "You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago — the precise date is uncertain — 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." He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued. "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. 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 on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school." Professor Binns paused again, pursing 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. 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 would be able to open it until his own 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."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. 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," he said. "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."

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," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing —"

"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it —"

"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore —"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't —" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!" And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

-.-

"I do not know why I'm not surprised that all the drama of blood purity started with him," George muttered after hearing the story a couple of hours later in the common room.

They had once again hoarded the armchairs in the corner by the window and Ace had fallen completely asleep because of his narcolepsy, while Hermione told the story again.

"This leaves us with whoever opened the camera has to be heir of Slytherin and hates all the Muggleborns"

"What leaves us with the whole house of Slytherin," murmured Ron. "Oh, wait," he added in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?" He looked at Hermione.

Hermione looked back, unconvinced. "If you're talking about Malfoy —"

"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him — 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!' — come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him —"

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.

"Look at his family," said Ron, closing his book. "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!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son. . . ."

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible. . . ."

"But how do we prove it?" said George darkly.

"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick 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 —"

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

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

"But that's impossible," Fred said as Ron laughed.

"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Ron.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago —"

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron as Fred cover his little brother mouth.

"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."

"Oh, I think I remember" mutter George.

"Right, It wears off after a while," added Fred.

"Correct" confirmed Hermione "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."

There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"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."

"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance. . . ."

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick. . . ."

But at that moment, Neville entered the room running, only to stop in front of the corner table, looking with relative anguish at everyone.

"Is Ace asleep?" Neville asked.

"Yes, he is," Fred said, glancing at the boy's face to be sure.

"Oh, it's just that ..." if Neville was trying not to draw too much attention, and sound more casual, he was not making it. Everyone's attention was on him.

"What happened, Neville?" Hermione asked.

"Do not tell us there was another attack," Ron murmured.

"No, nothing like that" the boy hurried "It's just that I heard a rumor from one of the other kids ..." He paused "... they say Ace is the heir"

"WHAT?!"

"They really do not have anything better to do," Ace muttered.

Everyone's eyes went to the boy who stretched his arms.

"You were awake"

"For a while" he answered without further ado.

"Oh" and tentatively the girl added "And are you okay?"

"Yes, why should not I be?"

The girl did not respond, she simply turned her eyes to the others, before Ace understood what it was.

"For the rumor?" Ace continued "They are just rumors, they will pass when they get bored of them or something better happens"

-.-

Author's Notes.

Thanks for the ten name suggested, soon I will upload a poll, please vote for your favorite in my author profile page, you have until 11/9 to vote.