Before long, Vivian and Melissa were untied, Bruce and Mervin freed from their curses, and just as a precaution, Riggs had been tied to the chair in the vase room. His Petrified face was slack and staring.
"I can't believe it," said Vivian sadly, touching Riggs' frozen cheek. "He's always been so -- solid and -- practical."
Melissa felt no such sympathy. "Let's just leave him here," she hissed. "A summer laying Petrified ought to do it."
On Richard's tired and drawn face, there suddenly dawned an expression of horror. "Petrified," he breathed. "Oh no -- that girl's still in the Chamber! We've got to go warn someone!" He tore out the door, and the S.S.A. followed.
They rushed down the corridor toward the common room. "Snape --" panted Richard, at the front of the group. "Closest -- McGonagall from there --" He screeched to a halt in front of the stone wall that hid the entrance to the Slytherin dormitories. "Pagliacci," he gasped, and the door swung open. They tumbled inside, expecting to see the chaos and confusion that they had left behind a few hours ago.
No one was there.
"Where is everybody?" Richard practically shrieked. He looked very white. "They weren't -- evacuated or something, were they?"
"Take a breath, Rich," snapped Vivian. "Let's fan out. Melissa, you can get into the Gryffindor common room, right? Take Bruce. Mervin and Evan, go up to the prefects' lounge, the password is 'creme brulee'. Herne, you and Uther try to get to Snape's office. Beth and Dell, go to the Great Hall and out on the grounds. Rich, you and I are going up to Dumbledore's office to see if McGonagall is in. Anyone you find has to be told that the monster is a basilisk and where the Chamber is. We'll meet back at the Great Hall. Now move!"
They divided according to Vivian's orders. Beth and Daedalus darted up through the dark, twisted corridors toward the Great Hall. Beth had visions of whole classrooms full of Petrified students, or Ginny Weasley's mangled body in the hallway while Tom Riddle -- Lord Voldemort -- stood in Dumbledore's old office and laughed. She could almost hear the laughter ringing through the halls. Laughter and shouts of joy --
"Good lord," breathed Dell, and he slowed to a stop.
The Great Hall was filled with people. Beth thought at first they had been herded there for safety, but they didn't look afraid, or upset, or any of it. If anything, it looked like one enormous party.
Speechless, they walked slowly into the open doors. They were immediately grabbed and hustled further into the ruckus. Ecstatic cheers surrounded them: "He's done it, he's done it, she's okay! Haven't you heard? You-Know-Who was right here -- again! Don't you know?"
Daedalus stared at Beth, mouth gaping in confused shock.
Someone clapped Beth on the shoulder. She whirled around.
Aaron Pucey was there. His arm was still completely bound up, but he was beaming wide. "Beth, where've you been? You're missing the fun!"
Beth's mouth was dry. "What ... happened?"
Aaron shook his head gleefully. "Harry Potter went into the Chamber of Secrets, killed the basilisk -- it was a basilisk, did you know? -- and defeated the Dark Lord, who had taken over the body of the little Weasley girl! She's okay now -- Dumbledore's back, Hagrid's coming back -- can't believe you've missed this! Where were you?"
"Uh -- studying," blurted Beth. "I'll -- uh -- be right back, okay?"
"And wait till you hear what happened to Lockhart!" called Aaron after her.
She struggled through the crowd and found Dell in a mob of other seventh-years. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him back out of the Great Hall and into the corridor. He still looked mostly confused.
"They're saying it's all over," he said, sounding dazed. "Did we really miss it all?"
"That was --" Beth began bitterly, but she broke off. She had been about to say, "That was Riggs' fault."
The other members were racing down the halls toward them now, in various degrees of panic. Daedalus held up his hands as Evan and Mervin darted up, panting. "She's okay, everything's okay."
"What?" demanded Mervin, gasping for breath.
Daedalus got halfway though his explanation before Uther sprinted up to them and roared, "Why's everyone just standing around? Snape's gone!"
It took four tries before the tale was told and everyone had gathered to hear it. Just as he was finishing, Vivian appeared. She didn't look panicked -- but she looked worried.
"I know it's over," she said, raising her hands, as Daedalus launched into his story one more time. "But everything isn't done. Richard is up with Dumbledore now. We ... have to all go and tell him about Riggs."
The members fell silent. The laughter and gaiety from the Great Hall seemed more distant.
"What are we going to tell him?" asked Daedalus quietly.
Vivian shrugged. Her eyes were sad. "The truth."
They started up the many staircases to Dumbledore's office. The doorway was open, and Richard could be seen from the corridor, so one by one they went inside and stood behind their president: a tired but formidable group of students, on a mission that no one wanted to do.
Once again, Richard served as spokesman.
"We need to speak with you about a very important matter."
Dumbledore peered keenly at Richard, and at the rest of the S.S.A. gathered around him. "Of course."
Richard took a deep breath. "We would like to recommend that Randall Riggs be removed from consideration for the position of Head Boy."
It must not have been what Dumbledore was expecting; the old Headmaster looked startled, and sat up a bit straighter. "You do realize that if he doesn't get the job, it will certainly go to one of the prefects of another house?"
Richard nodded bitterly. "Yes."
"In fact, my second choice was Percy Weasley, of Gryffindor. You ... understand this?"
"Yes, sir."
There was a pause. Dumbledore licked his lips. "Well. May I ask what convinced you that he is unsuitable?"
"No, sir."
Vivian stepped up. "Yes, you can, sir," she said softly. "Two counts of attempted murder, Miss Penelope Clearwater and Miss Hermione Granger." She fell silent, giving Richard a guilty but challenging look. Richard said nothing.
Dumbledore gazed around at the assembled students until Richard spoke up again.
"Also, we recommend that he be removed from his position as prefect. Please trust us as members of the Society for Slytherin Advancement. We want nothing but the best for our house."
"Aha. Yes, I can see now that this whole matter would concern you all." Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "I'll consider your recommendation. Please send Randall Riggs to see me as soon as possible. Where is he now?"
"Tied up in the Vase Room, sir."
If this surprised Dumbledore, he made no sign of it. "Very well, when you see fit to release him make sure that he comes here immediately after."
"We'll do so right away, sir," said Richard. He turned around, and then turned back. "One more thing. We've been meaning to tell you, but you haven't been here, and we only just found out."
"Yes?"
"Professor Kettleburn is smuggling fantastic beasts through Hogsmeade village."
Dumbledore peered at Richard as if trying to draw forth his deepest secrets. "A serious accusation against a teacher. Do you have any proof?"
"The second drawer from the top, in the back left corner of his room," said Herne suddenly, "is full of golden snidgets."
Dumbledore's brow was heavily furrowed. "I'll certainly look into your claims, although I can't promise what action might be taken."
"That's all we ask," said Richard.
There wasn't anything else to say, so they left quietly. Dell and Uther -- their two biggest members -- went to the Vase Room to bring up Riggs to whatever fate he might meet in Dumbledore's office.
Down in the Great Hall, the huge party was still in full swing. The frozen students had been revived, and the whole school -- even the teachers -- were celebrating their return. The Weasleys were in one big red-headed clump around their little sister, who couldn't even be seen in the midst of them. A glance at the hourglasses on the far wall showed that Gryffindor had jumped ahead four hundred points (no doubt Potter had earned them all) and there was no way that Slytherin would ever catch up.
"We don't deserve the house cup anyway," Richard said bitterly. "One of our own, helping out the Heir, and we didn't even catch him. I'm disgusted."
The S.S.A. joined the excited throng, but none of them could really get into the spirit of things. Beth kept thinking about Riggs up in Dumbledore's office, wondering what they could be saying to each other and what would happen to Riggs. He had always been a slightly aloof but genuinely nice boy -- but then she thought of his wild eyes and his wand at Vivian's throat, and shuddered.
Still, everyone else was all right, and that was worth something.
On a whim, Beth fought through the crowd until she got to where the Weasleys still huddled around Ginny. The twins turned and glared at her.
"What d'you want?"
Beth swallowed. "I'm -- glad your sister's okay."
The twins exchanged a quick glance. Then one of them cleared his throat. "Thanks. Us too."
They stood and looked at each other for a second. Then Beth turned and went back to her group.
The party lasted all night long. Most of the Slytherins went to bed early. Draco Malfoy was found sulking in the common room. It eventually came out that he had lost his family house-elf and his father had been removed as a school governor all in that evening. To top it off, he was furious that "after all that, it didn't work."
"What didn't work?" asked Uther casually.
"Getting rid of the Mudbloods! They're still here, aren't they?" ranted Draco. "And Gryffindor's getting the House Cup again. Bloody disgraceful!"
"I'll say," said Uther, looking at Draco.
Finals were cancelled. In fact, all further tests and assignments were cancelled, except for --
"O.W.L.s," moaned Richard.
He was draped over piles of textbooks in the library, which had been completely abandoned except for the fifth years, who would be taking their Ordinary Wizarding Levels in two days, and the seventh-years, who were preparing for the N.E.W.T.s.
"I've spent this whole year thinking about things like who was the Heir, where's the Chamber, how are we going to get Daedalus restored -- and the O.W.L.s snuck up on me!"
"You'll do all right," said Beth. "You're no idiot, Rich."
Richard put his face in his hands in frustration.
The S.S.A met without the third-years on the last Wednesday of the year. Beth and Melissa got there early to find Daedalus hanging around, flipping through the Ledger. He looked up at them.
"Going to miss this."
"You're still a member," Beth reminded him.
Daedalus sighed. "I guess. It's going to be something to see what happens to us once we graduate and can't win any house points. Anyway, I've had my last big adventure."
"What's that?" said Beth.
"I took Rich down to the Chamber of Secrets, to look around," said Daedalus. "He was pretty thrilled. It's a mess down there -- blood all over the place, and the basilisk's still in there rotting. Smells awful. Oh hey, these are for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of long, red feathers, just like the ones they had found in the chamber a scant few months ago. Then he handed them to Melissa, who took them eagerly. "Like you asked. And you'd better be grateful, I had to bend over the putrid corpse to reach them."
"Thanks!" exclaimed Melissa in delight.
"What are you going to do with those?" Beth asked curiously.
Melissa shot her a secretive glance. "I shouldn't be telling you -- just keep it a secret, all right --"
"Sure," said Dell, and Beth nodded agreeably.
"Well, Ollivander's has been making wands out of unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix feather for like two millennia. Every once in a while they'll try something unusual -- leprechaun hair, griffon feather, something like that -- but nothing's ever panned out. I thought I'd get my uncle to try out some with the plume of a basilisk. Just for experiment, you know." She shrugged. "It might give it some interesting properties."
"Mel, that's a great idea!" said Beth. Then it occurred to her ... if Melissa could prove to her parents that she was capable of innovation, if she could develop something new or different for the company, it would make all the difference in her future. She gave Melissa a knowing look.
"That's the plan," said Melissa, looking back at Beth.
"Oh --" said Beth suddenly, remembering. "The student down there. Ulysses Donner. What can we --"
"Nothing," Daedalus said shortly, before sitting down on the low divan. "Rich and I had a chat with Rothbard. The statue's been there for twenty years, not aging, not breathing. The other victims didn't die because they must not have looked at the basilisk directly ... but Donner must have, he looked totally different from the others. We're leaving him down there." And that was all he would say.
By then the Vase Room had filled up and Richard was at the front of the room, trying to get everyone's attention. He didn't look as hearty as usual. Riggs's chair behind the Ledger was notably empty.
Richard looked out at them all. "First --"
"What happened to Riggs?" asked Vivian sharply.
"That was first," said Richard. "He's been expelled."
"What?" cried Uther. Vivian put her head in her hands. Daedalus shook his head numbly.
"Dumbledore got the whole story from him, and he was expelled," Richard said again. "But there's more. Riggs wasn't stupid. He'd already put in for a transfer to Durmstrang for next year. So he's going to go there for his last year of school."
"Durmstrang doesn't care that he's a Death Eater?" asked Melissa helplessly.
"Was a Death Eater," said Richard firmly. "I'm not giving up on him yet. And actually, from what Gypsy Arendt says about her headmaster, I don't think they do."
"It's going to be so weird without him," said Vivian softly.
"It would have been weird with him," said Daedalus. "At least he still gets to graduate from somewhere."
"Speaking of graduates --" said Richard, now looking at Dell and Vivian. "Daedalus Dellinger and Vivian Sicklewise are both leaving us after this year. You've both been fantastic members. Best of luck in the future, and stay in touch."
"Yeah, we'll see you next time somebody dies," cracked Uther.
Beth looked over at Vivian and Daedalus, who were sitting together on the divan and holding hands. "D'you get the feeling that whenever we see them again, they'll be together?" she whispered to Melissa.
Melissa nodded, a dreamy smile on her face.
"Anyway, that's two members that need to be replaced," Richard continued. "I want to hear who you guys want to replace them. Alphabetically: Bulstrode, Crabbe, Goyle, MacDougal, Malfoy, Parkinson, and Zabini. Vivian, what's the word on Millicent Bulstrode?"
"Not stupid, but distinctly mean," said Vivian. "She's very outspoken -- very aggressive. Not at all prone to keeping secrets. She doesn't have any real friends, and spends a lot of time with her pet cat. I think she's going to do just fine for herself in the future, but I think I wouldn't recommend her. She's just not a good match."
Beth thought this was a little cursory as a description of someone's entire personality, but Richard nodded as if satisfied. "Thank you. I had Vincent Crabbe. His dad was acquitted in the Death Eater trials and his mother's some kind of invalid. It's a very old pureblood family. If you see him around school, he looks like he's just Draco's lackey, but really he's got his own ambitions. He wants to be a writer."
Uther snorted into his sleeve. Bruce let out a little guffaw of disbelief.
"No, I mean it," Richard went on. "He's written some three or four novels already. Not half bad, either. I had to get through about a dozen curses on his trunk to read them, but he's really got a bit of talent. On the other hand," he added, "he's a bit greedy and doesn't have much foresight. But then, neither does Uther." Uther stopped laughing. "I'd say, I'd recommend him -- not as highly as I did Evan, for instance, but a bit."
Bruce had Gregory Goyle. He had nothing good to say about him, except that he was massive enough to be a formidable weapon. "But then, he's dumb enough that we could manipulate him even if he wasn't in the club," he added with a shrug. "There has to be somebody out there who's better."
"Morag MacDougal is," spoke up Mervin. "He's solid and smart, he never gets into trouble. Keeps a very low profile."
"Is he up for things like, going into the Forbidden Forest at night?" asked Melissa dubiously.
Mervin nodded. "Uh-huh. I didn't say he never did anything wrong, I said he never got caught. He's pretty slick. He already knows how to get out of the castle whenever he wants. And I caught him trying to Apparate. He's a good guy. He's got my vote."
Richard smiled at him. "Great, thanks. Uther? You had Draco Malfoy."
"Yeah." Uther got up out of his armchair like he was going to make a toast. "Everybody knows Draco. He's smart, funny, popular, athletic -- much like me, really -- and he's as ambitious as they come. His family's rich and pure-blood Slytherin for centuries. Draco's got it all." He frowned. "But he's a jerk and there's no getting around it. Even after being on the team with him, I don't think I'd trust him. Besides -- you saw how excited he was when the Chamber was opened. I'm kind of afraid he'll go the same way Riggs did." There was a moment of terse silence.
Bruce had been nodding in agreement. "Spoiled if you ask me. He's all right, I guess, but Uther's right -- I don't trust him at all."
"No recommendation, then?" Richard looked keenly at Uther.
"I'd recommend we keep this organization as far away from him as we can," said Uther lazily, sitting back down. Melissa looked disappointed.
"Pansy Parkinson?" said Richard.
"Oh, that's me," said Melissa, sitting up straighter. She made a face. "You know Antigone Von Dervish? She's a lot like that."
Vivian began to laugh. "Gee, Dell, I remember when you thought it would be a good idea to have someone of her -- how did you say it -- proportions in the club. Kind of to round it out, isn't that how you put it?"
Daedalus blushed a bright crimson. "Eh -- that must have been Uther."
Uther grinned cheekily.
"She's pretty smart," Melissa went on, ignoring them, "but very stuck up. And you should hear the way she makes fun of people -- even Millicent Bulstrode, in her own House and year. It's terrible. She hasn't got my vote at all."
"Fair enough," said Richard. "Beth? Blaise Zabini?"
Beth looked down, embarrassed. "I didn't get to know her very well," she said. "She gets good grades. She's shy, and she's nice ... she hangs out with Pansy and Draco, but she's not really like them ... She's pretty normal," she finished, running a high blush.
"All right, that's good," said Richard. "Sounds like ... Crabbe, MacDougal, and Zabini ... ready to vote?"
"Already?" asked Bruce in surprise.
"Sure, you already know who you want, don't you?" said Richard.
"Well, yeah ..." said Bruce. He shrugged. "Whatever."
One by one the names were called and they voted. Richard tallied the votes. It would have been Riggs's job, but no one mentioned that.
"Great! Next year we can welcome Morag MacDougal and Blaise Zabini. Have the rings and notes been finished?"
Uther and Bruce had gotten the rings made, out of the metal of Salazar Slytherin's old cauldron. Melissa and Daedalus were halfway through enchanting them; Melissa said she would take them home over the summer and finish them up. Mervin had been working with Riggs on the notes. They had finished just a week ago.
"Good thing," said Mervin. He didn't elaborate, but he didn't need to.
"That's the old business. Anything else?"
No one responded.
Richard took a deep breath. "Then I have some news. I've ... decided to resign as President."
There was a clamor of outrage.
"Nothing's gone right since I've been here. We lost the house cup and now Gryffindor's got a two-year winning streak. Twice now -- twice -- the Dark Lord's been here and we didn't even know it. I didn't find out that our founder is He Who Must Not Be Named, and I didn't realize that Riggs had been helping him." His shoulders slumped in defeat. "I gave up my chance to be a prefect and now my O.W.L.s didn't go well either, and even then I've done nothing to advance the Society. Anyway, it was founded by the Dark Lord. I don't know if I want to."
"Don't be silly, Rich!" Vivian scolded. "It doesn't matter who started the Society! Remember, Riddle himself said there was a division even way back then. Come on, it's not like we're a gang of Death Eaters."
Richard shook his head doggedly. "I can't. I've failed you all."
"All right, you've resigned," Vivian said angrily. "That makes me the President. Well, I'm appointing you to be President next year. Now you have to take it. It's in the rules."
"Rich, you're not a failure," said Daedalus.
"Anything but, old chap," Uther said concernedly.
"And we've done all right!" said Bruce. "I mean, our Quidditch team's still tops ..."
"Last year, you went and found Dumbledore before Potter could get killed up in the forbidden corridor ..."
"And we did find out about the basilisk. We just got sidetracked by Kettleburn, that's all."
"Good we found out about that, after all," said Melissa suddenly. "He had all kinds of things in his office, when they went through it. Turns out half the stuff in his classroom was contraband. He confessed to everything."
"I bet that means Dumbledore gave him a second chance," grumbled Mervin.
"Nope. Sacked on the spot," Melissa grinned. "I think they're going to keep that a secret from the students though." She didn't mention how she had found out about it herself.
"That reminds me -- how did Herne ever find out about Kettleburn?" Beth asked.
Richard perked up. "Saw him making another delivery to Hogsmeade. Herne stayed out all night and didn't get caught at all."
"Know what else?" Bruce interjected suddenly. "That missing hand of his. He lost it in the Middle East, all right, but it wasn't a manticore. He was caught poaching over there and they cut it off."
Beth shuddered.
Richard was looking at the ground thoughtfully. "So that's two new teachers next year?" he said slowly.
"New secrets to learn, Rich," Vivian wheedled.
"And I know you're not going to let us solve all those mysteries of the castle without you," Beth said challengingly.
Richard chewed on his lip. He looked up at Vivian. "All right then, if you say so. It's in the rules."
And any further doubts he had must have been overwhelmed by the cheers and encouragement that followed.
The last trip to Hogsmeade Village, which had been cancelled thanks to the attacks, was reinstated, and on a bright Saturday in June the older students all packed into the horseless carriages and rode down to the town.
Most of the students were thrilled to be outside, especially after having been caged up in the castle every evening for a month, but Beth and her friends were content to just stroll around and take advantage of the little time before they all went off for the summer.
"I hope you can visit this summer, Beth," said Melissa, as they walked down the cobblestone street past the Three Broomsticks and its rival tavern, the Hog's Head. "My parents are going off to Spain and taking Russell with them -- that's my little brother -- but I'm staying home with my Uncle Ollivander. I told them it's because I'm bored with Spain, but really he's promised to help me make those basilisk-core wands."
"You actually told someone about them?" asked Beth, half amused and half horrified, while Bruce snorted, "Bored with Spain," under his breath.
"It's all right, my uncle's the best wand maker in Britain. Plus, he was a member too, you know."
Beth grinned. "All right, sounds like fun. I'll see what my dad says."
They meandered into the broomstick shop with all the displays.
"Sad, really," sighed Bruce.
"What's that?" Beth asked.
He pointed to where a Nimbus Two Thousand and One hovered over a podium. "It's a great broom, but it's going to be totally outdated in maybe a year. Rumor has it that the Firebolt people are working on something that'll fly the Nimbus into the ground."
"At least you had it this year," grinned Melissa. "Just long enough to keep the Cup."
"I guess," sighed Bruce. "Next year's going to be a tough one, though. We've got to replace both Pucey brothers, and Gryffindor'll have all veterans."
"I like how you're not even worried about Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw," Melissa said, with a little snigger. Bruce shrugged and grinned.
They meandered over to the portraits of "Generous Contributors".
"I still say he looks like you, Beth," said Bruce idly, pointing at the picture of Beobub "Bob" Parsimmer, the blonde man with the protruding chin.
Beth snorted and looked up at the portrait. Her jaw dropped.
"That's him -- that's the guy that was talking to my father, over Christmas! I knew I'd seen him somewhere!"
"That's weird," said Melissa. "Why would your dad be talking to a Parsimmer? They're such a prominent family, and he's not even a wizard -- no offense," she added hastily.
"None taken," said Beth vaguely. She was looking up at the portrait intently. The name and face were so familiar ... A crazy thought started to come together in her head. She looked at the hair, the prominent chin (the Parson profile, she had called it, when she'd seen the vision of her brother in the S.S.A. sepulcher) and recalled how his expression had been identical to her father's. It was because they had been discussing the same thing, surely, but didn't it help that they had such similar faces ...
And she thought of what Bruce had said earlier that year.
"I'd run off and change my name ... start over like a Muggle so nobody'd know I ought to be something else."
"Oh goodness," said Beth suddenly. "That can't be right." But even as she said it, and looked into the face of Bob Parsimmer, she knew -- without knowing -- what he and her father had been talking about. Her father, William Parson, had chosen the life and identity of a Muggle over the life of a Squib. It made perfect sense, suddenly -- the Sorting Hat wouldn't have let anyone but a pureblood into the Slytherin house, and apparently Beth's blood was far more pure than she had ever guessed.
Melissa gave her arm a shake. "Are you all right?"
"Uh -- maybe." Beth sat down right on the floor. "I think I just found something out that I was never supposed to know."
The school year finished up more quickly than anyone could believe. Scores for the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s came back, and it turned out that Richard didn't do quite as badly as he had thought. ("Although," Rich said dejectedly, as he looked down at his score, "another two or three would have been nice.") Beth didn't tell anyone what she had guessed in the broomstick shop. There was plenty of time for that after she had confirmed if it was true.
She got her chance on the first night back home in her cottage in Dorset. Her father had picked her up from King's Cross Station in a rental car and, once they got home, put special effort into making a pasta casserole. After dessert, when they were almost finished catching up on what had happened over the year, Beth turned to her father.
"Mom was a Ravenclaw, right?"
"Yes, she was."
"And Chris a Hufflepuff. Lycaeon a Slytherin."
"Yes."
"What were your parents?"
William Parson stopped dead and looked over at his daughter. A muscle in his cheek worked. Finally he said, "Hufflepuffs."
"Thanks." Beth looked back at him for a little while. Then she got up and went to her room.
She waited calmly, and it wasn't long before she heard her father's slow footsteps start up the stairs. She smiled. No matter what he had to say, she could take it in stride. It wasn't a crime to be born differently. She was glad that she knew -- and gladder still that he was willing to talk to her about it.
Her bedroom door opened and her father stood there, stooped and shadowed. She smiled warmly at him. It was going to be all right.