Pansy returned minutes later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. She thrust it under Ron's nose with glee.

"That'll give you a laugh," she said smugly.

Arabella saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Arabella. It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it said:

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.

Mr. Aldrich Parkinson, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation. "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

"Well?" said Pansy impatiently as Arabella handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Arabella bleakly. She felt even more terrible.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Pansy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Ron's— or rather, Crabbe's— face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Pansy irritably.

"Stomachache," Ron grunted.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Pansy with a cackle of laughter. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," she went on thoughtfully. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. My father tells me that Lucious Malfoy shares similar sentiments, always saying old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never have let slime like Creevey in."

"Care to repeat that one more time, Pansy?"

Draco was now standing in front of the group, his expression sour. Blaise stood behind him, closely followed by Daphne and Lyla.

"It's true," Pansy said with a small twirl of her hands. "Our fathers share a very similar thought on crackpot Dumbledore, don't pretend otherwise Draco."

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you left my family out of conversations such as these," began the steely-eyed boy. "You can foul up your own family name, but leave mine out of it all."

"I'm hardly fouling anyone's family reputation," replied Pansy with a little smile.

She started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin:

"Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?"

Goyle howled with laughter, and quickly after, Arabella and Ron followed.

"Knock it off Pansy!" snapped Lyla loudly, pushing herself to the front. "That isn't funny and you know it."

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," said Pansy slowly. "Please."

Daphne and Blaise tugged on Lyla's and Draco's robes.

"Come on," said Blaise, grabbing Draco's collar, "best leave them be."

When the small group of Slytherins dispersed, Arabella inhaled a bit easier.

"Disgusting," spat Pansy viciously, "I don't know why Draco puts up with them– they're despicable."

"Yeah," said Arabella through a wave of irritation."

"And then there's Potter, another one with no proper magical pride," sighed Pansy, "it's a shame really, she wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger Mudblood if she knew what was good for her. And people think she and her sister Slytherin's heir!"

Arabella and Ron waited with bated breath: Pansy was surely seconds away from telling them it was her—

"I just wish I knew who it was," said Pansy petulantly, "we could help them."

Ron's jaw dropped so that Crabbe looked even more clueless than usual. Fortunately, Pansy didn't notice, and Arabella, thinking fast, said, "You must have some idea who's behind it all..."

"You know I haven't, Tracy. How many times do I have to tell you? And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was nearly fifty years ago, so it was before his time… but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing— last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time... I hope it's Granger," she said with relish.

Ron was clenching Crabbe's gigantic fists. Feeling that it would be a bit of a giveaway if Ron punched Pansy here and then, Arabella shot him a warning look and said, "Do you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah... whoever it was was expelled," said Pansy. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Arabella, puzzled.

"Azkaban — the wizard prison, Davis," said Pansy, looking at him in disbelief, "honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."

She shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

Arabella tried to force Tracy's dull face into a look of concern.

"Yeah..." said Pansy with a whooshing sigh. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor —"

"Ho!" said Ron.

Pansy looked at him, clearly startled. So did Arabella. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening— oh no! Their hour was up, and Ron was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly giving Arabella, she must be, too.

"Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted.

"I'll help him there!" shouted Arabella.

And without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against all hope that Pansy nor Goyle hadn't noticed anything. Arabella could feel her feet slipping around in Tracy's huge shoes and had to hoist up her robes as she shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the closet where they'd locked Crabbe, Millicent, and Tracy away. Leaving their shoes outside the closet door, they sprinted in their socks up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Parkinson's' drawing-room."

Arabella checked her face in the cracked mirror. She was back to being herself again. Ron hammered hard on the door of Hermione's stall.

"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you —"

"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.

"What's the matter?" asked Arabella, "Hermione, what– "

"You must be back to normal by now," said Ron, "we are."

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door, and Arabella had never seen her looking so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said gleefully. "It's awful —"

They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.

"What's up?" said Ron hesitantly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink. Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.

"It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! I took ah-hair that looked like hers r-right off her r-robes. And the p- potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

"Oh no," said Ron.

"You'll be teased dreadfully," said Myrtle happily.

"It's okay, Hermione," said Arabella quickly. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions..."

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw. "Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"

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