You have no idea how much delight this chapter gave me. So many song references and Easter eggs! The fact that it's chapter 66 makes it even funnier.

Note: This chapter paraphrases/quotes from a few chapters in COS.

October 25th, 1992

The quidditch field was drenched and muddy from a week's worth of rain. So much so that Harry was covered in mud by the end of practice. Coupling that with the cold weather, the urge to soak in a hot bath was incredibly tempting. It was strong enough that Harry broke away from the rest of the team's descent to their dorms and went up, instead, to the room of requirement. Unfortunately for him, the door was already visible. It's alright, I'm sure she won't mind leaving for a bit... Harry walked into the room. The space echoed with a sharp twanging sound as Melly sang a song on her balalaika.

"-bodies in my wake, noose round my neck. I'm coming back again, better make it quick, better make it quick, better make i- Oh hi, Harry!"

"Hi, Melly."

"I'm glad you're here. I need some advice." She turned his way, fingers strumming along the strings in various chords. "I have some ideas for Saturday's setlist, but it's a bit complicated. I was thinking of something from Ghost Quartet, which has a perfect song for the occasion, but needs a band to pull it off; or I can do Happy Phantom, which is super easy and already exists, but the ghosts won't get a lot of the references; so then I was thinking of trying some murder ballads, but those might offend some of the guests-"

"I'm sure that whatever you come up with will be perfect, Melly." Harry interjected. "Though, is it alright if I use the room for a while? I'm freezing from practice."

"Huh?" The girl blinked, finally noticing his state of clothes before nodding. "Oh! Yeah, sure. No problem." She quickly collected her things and walked back out with Harry. The door immediately disappeared once emptied, and the two walked a few steps away to prep the change. "What do you need tonight?"

"A bathhouse. Something to wash all this mud away."

"Neat! Can I join in? We can make pools for both of us."

"Sure. I don't see why not."

The pair made two rounds in front of the door. On the third turn, however, they were startled by a camera flash. "Hi Harry!" A voice chirped from behind the camera.

Harry answered hesitantly. "Colin. Hello again."

"What are you up to? Can I come along?"

"Rather not-" Melly cut it. "Harry's helping me with something personal right now, but I'm sure you two can talk over supper."

"Oh." The boy slumped dejectedly. "Okay, I guess. See you around, Harry!"

Once Colin turned the corner, Harry let out an audible sigh of relief. Melly caught on immediately. "Fanboy?"

"Yes." He groaned. "Even weirder since he's muggleborn. Most kids at school got used to me just being me after a few months, but again this year…"

"Give it time." She assured him. "Though, that kid, Colin Creevey…"

"Did he already ask you for a photo?" Harry surmised.

"No. Something about him, though… Bah, it's probably nothing." She shrugged. "We'll need to start all over again. Come on. Let's get moving."

October 31st, 1992

Halfway through the Halloween Feast, Harry and Kevin joined up with Melly, Merton, and a couple older musicians down to the dungeons to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party. The dungeon felt colder and creepier than usual. The hallway was lined with jet-black candles burning with bright blue light, and deeper down the corridor came a sound reminiscent of fingers scraping along a blackboard.

"Is that meant to be music?" Clarice Ettington, the sixth year Ravenclaw harpsichordist, exclaimed in horror.

"I think so." Melly cringed.

"No wonder you offered to play for the party." Merton said. "I can't imagine being forced to listen to that the entire time."

"I'm going to need a drink just to survive." Lamented Danny Reid, a seventh year drummer from Gryffindor. "Let's get this over with."

They walked past a doorway lined with black velvet drapes and entered a sheer mist of pearly-white partygoers. Hundreds of ghosts filled the room, drifting in groups, tossing their heads, or dancing in a mournful waltz to the sound of thirty musical saws played by an orchestra on a raised stage. Their own breath added to the mist, as the presence of the ghosts caused the temperature to plummet below freezing. Above them, a chandelier burned with thousands of eerie blue flames, yet it did nothing to negate the chill.

"Would it be offensive to say that I could probably do a better job with those saws than any of those ghosts on stage?" Melly asked.

Merton answered painfully. "Giggles, I need you to never bring up that idea ever again. My poor ears are suffering enough!"

The conversation halted as Nearly Headless Nick floated over to them. "Ah! Mister Reid, Miss Bennett, fellow children, welcome to my deathday party! I am so pleased that you've come!"

"The pleasure is ours." Melly replied, giving the ghost a slight curtsey. "Though, if you could speak with the orchestra, we need to set up our instruments."

"Yes, yes, of course. Right this way, come along!"

Nick beckoned them through the crowd of ghosts. The rest of the living attendees followed suit. It was incredibly awkward to go through the dance floor. Each time a ghost floated through him, Harry felt an intense shiver of discomfort. It felt even stranger as the ghosts, too, stopped in their dancing to peer at the breathing newcomers. They eventually made it to the stage. To their relief, Nick stopped the orchestra from playing and had them fly off to join the other attendees. While the new band got onto the stage to set up, Harry and Kevin walked over to the banquet table; which was regrettably full of putrid, rotten food.

"I would have thought a party would be more… cheerful." Kevin commented.

"I suppose a deathday is meant to be dreary."

"Maybe. But the ghosts seem to like it."

"Guess this is their way of having fun."

Harry and Kevin paused in their musings as the Fat Friar flew over to them. "Mister Potter! Mister Entwhistle! What a surprise to see you here!"

"Hello Friar." They each greeted him.

"How are you liking the party?"

"It's… interesting." Kevin replied. "I've never been to a ghost's party before."

"No? Well you are always welcome to join our celebrations." The Friar boomed. "It's so delightful to have students take an interest in their elders."

A chill swept over them as a male ghost flew straight through them from behind. The ghost turned to face them. He seemed to be from the 16th century, judging by the noble dress; and sneered at them while stroking his pointed beard. Whatever the ghost seemed to be judging them on, it seems they failed in that judgement, as the man soon dismissed them and turned to the Fat Friar. "These are children from your school, I assume?"

"Yes they are. Students from the illustrious Hufflepuff House, Sir Carmichael."

The ghost, Sir Carmichael, looked back at them with a sneer. "Strange… When they passed, I could swear they had an aura of death about them. It appears I was mistaken."

The Friar waved his hand off playfully. "Ah, that would be Miss Bennett. The shorter girl over there with the strings. Such a charming feature for one of the living to have, isn't it?"

Kevin and Harry instantly snapped the attention -and confusion- towards the stage. The four older students were taking quick swigs from a bottle being passed around. Other than that, there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary with them.

"I'm sorry," Harry cut in, "what do you mean by an aura of death?!"

The goateed ghost huffed at him. "Do the concepts of auras and death need explaining to you, boy?"

"Now, now, be kind, Sir Carmichael." The Friar interrupted. "It's nothing for you to worry about, Mister Potter. It's only a faint touch of death. More a curiosity than anything. The Baron himself confirmed that Miss Bennett isn't aware of the source of it. Though it is delightful to find someone comfortable with having a touch of death to them without having any fright of it."

"That's… good." Harry looked over to Kevin, and both seemed to grimace at the thought. Harry, in particular, felt concern over the idea, as Melly has certainly never brought up something so morbid to his attention.

Wanting to avoid further conversation, the two walked away from the Friar and the pompous Carmichael. Instead they let themselves enjoy some music once the band finally played. The ghosts seemed to enjoy themselves while dancing to the music. Particularly as the first song was about ghosts being the best sort of dead person one could be. The other three songs also had similar, somewhat morbid or ghostly themes, and the ghosts all applauded with each song.

Once the set finished, however, the living attendees were all too eager to pack up and leave the party as soon as possible. It ended up taking longer than they wished, however, as Reid and Melly had taken a little too much from the bottle before and during the show; resulting in them both floundering in their steps as they walked the corridors.

"That was fun!" Reid exalted. His drum kit wavered haphazardly in concert with his wand.

"So much fun!" Melly cheered. "We should do that again, sometime!"

Merton snorted at their expense. "I think you're just too drunk to realize how strange that party was."

"You just gotta go with the flow, Merton." She suddenly gasped. "Your name is Graves and you don't like ghost parties? Sacrilege!"

"I like my name just fine. What I don't like is having ghosts flying through me."

"Ffpt! Nothing wrong with that. Ghosts are flying all up my dress, it's the sound of duress! It's not SAAAAFE here, with the dead!"

Melly and Reid started dancing around the hallway. The sudden change in action caused the drums to clatter loudly to the ground. The rest of them cringed at the sound. Merton and Ettington shrugged helplessly at the discarded instruments. Between a cello and a harpsichord, neither could help with the situation. Seeing the predicament, Harry and Kevin went down to pick up the set.

"That's weird."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Over there, look."

Following where Kevin was pointing, Harry spotted a trail of spiders running down the corridor, almost in single file against the wall. It was certainly curious. They seemed to be running from something, as opposed to being heading somewhere. "What are they running from?"

"What is what running from?" Ettington asked.

"The spiders. See?"

"Spiders?!" Melly asked. "Oh, that's a great one, too!" The others ignored as she broke into another song. Instead they all started walking against the path of the spiders. They seem to be running from upstairs. How strange. The group started to walk up the stairs when Melly shouted. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"We're following the spiders." Merton answered.

"Following the spiders?" Unbeknownst to Harry, a flash of concern crossed her face. "We shouldn't follow the spiders. We should go to the great hall instead, this time."

"This time?"

Even Harry found that comment to be curious. He turned to Melly, noticing a certain distance to her gaze. "Melly… is this a Magdalene?"

The comment seemed to shock her. Her eyes widened and she gasped, though it ended up being a happy gasp rather than anything of concern. "This IS Magdalene! Harry, I didn't know you were a fan?!" Bursting into giggles, she bounded up the steps towards him. Grabbing one of his hands, she pulled upward and spun him around. "Sing with me Harry! Must I be left for dead? Left alone in my head? It's so hard not to break!"

The rest continued to ignore the drunk and kept walking until they turned off to the second floor. The floor became damp as they drew closer. Water leaked everywhere, likely Moaning Myrtle has gone and flooded a toilet again. Due to the drunken dancing, Harry was unable to notice anything else until Reid spoke up.

"Hey Creepy! Creeve- uh -Creevey, right? What'chu looking at?"

Harry broke away from the dance, finally able to see Colin Creevey standing in a leaning angle, readying his camera to take a picture of the wall. He didn't take a picture, though. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge Reid's question. They drew closer to the boy. Suddenly, Ettington gave a sharp intake of breath and stepped back. "Is that blood?!"

The others all stepped closer. There was indeed blood on the wall, and the blood had been used to write a message. To Harry's horror, the message was something he knew all too well.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Harry and Kevin immediately met eyes. Silent communication of both confusion and fear. Kevin shook his head. He's told no one about the chamber. If not him, then who? And why?

"Oy, Creevey! What happened?!" Reid asked. Creevey made no answer. Frustrated and concerned, he went over to shake the boy's shoulder. "I said what happ-en- what the-?" The shake pushed Creevey backward. Yet the way he moved was bizarre. He didn't so much fall over as he did… topple. In pawing movements, Reid was able to catch him before he fell, yet nothing about his body changed. It was as though he were frozen, a perfect statue of a photographer in action.

"What's wrong with him?!" Merton asked.

"I don't know. He's completely frozen. His clothes are moving, though. Hey, Creevey, can you hear me?!"

Harry turned about the scene around him. They're very close to the entrance of the chamber. Too close. But he can't hear Caireen and he certainly can't risk investigating now. He walked over to Melly, to see if she could sneak into the loo quickly. She, herself, seemed to be looking about the floor, more puzzled than anything else.

"What are you looking for?"

"Mrs Norris. Isn't she supposed to be here?"

"I don't know, but-" A cacophony of footsteps caught his attention, and the sound was growing closer. The feast must be over! This is bad. A lot of students will be passing by here soon. He grabbed Melly's shoulders and pulled her in close so he could speak as quietly as possible. "Melly, I need you to listen to me! You cannot tell anyone what you saw or thought you should see here. Don't say anything about Caireen, or the chamber, or even the spiders! Understand?"

"Hum, sure. Okay." He stepped back to go call for a professor. Unfortunately, Melly chose that moment to pull him back into a hug. A hand patted the back of his head as she spoke. "Hey, hey, it's okay baby. You're fine. It's alright. No one's going to blame you."

"What? But I didn't do anything."

The footsteps waved into a halt and were replaced by a collection of gasps and whispers. Harry managed to push out of the hug and turn back to Reid, fighting to ignore the new students in the process. "We should take him to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will be able to figure out what happened to him."

"What did happen to him?" A voice asked.

"We're not sure." Ettington answered, then gestured to the wall. "But he had been looking at... that when we found him."

More whispers rippled through the hallway. Finally, or unfortunately, Filch broke through the crowd to find what the fuss was all about. Ettington and Merton seemed to take control and began explaining the situation to Filch as well as Dumbledore and the other professors once they made their way over.

Dumbleodore raised his hand up upon noticing the writing. "A moment, Miss Ettington." His eyes swept over the group of six. "If you could please follow me-"

Lockhart stepped closer to the group. "My office is nearest, Headmaster -just upstairs- please feel free-"

"Thank you, Gilderoy. Argus, Severus, please bring Mister Creevey with us." He gestured for them to follow as the gawking students parted for him.

Harry made his way to follow, though his arm was suddenly caught by the crowd. He turned towards the crowd, finding Draco holding tight. His eyes widened with fear. "Harry-"

"-Later." He promised the boy. He shook off Draco's grip and hurried to follow after the others.

They arrived at Lockhart's office (unsurprisingly, the room was filled floor to ceiling with paintings of himself) and Dumbleodre spent a number of minutes examining Colin's frozen state. He prodded him by finger and wandpoint, muttering spells and countercurses in an effort to unfreeze him. Lockhart, meanwhile, began chattering about his exploits and theories as to what might have killed Colin. The thought caused the children to start in alarm. Surely Colin isn't dead, right?!

Harry wanted desperately to ask and be sure, but he knew that all he could do right now was remain silent (and keep a close eye on the two drunks in the room). In the shadows, Snape seemed to be doing much the same. Though his face appeared fixed in a disgusted sneer in the direction of Melly as she chatted animatedly with a portrait of Lockhart with his hair in rollers, asking about his posing choices or something along those lines.

It seemed an age before Dumbledore straightened up. "Mister Creevey is alive." The comment stopped Lockhart in the middle of making some comment on his exploits. Not that Harry cared. "He has been petrified. But, how, I cannot say…"

"Perhaps he took a picture of his attacker?" McGonagall suggested. The camera had already been removed, exposing Colin's shocked face to those in the room.

"It is a possibility." Dumbledore opened the camera to check the film. The group reeled back as a loud jet of steam hissed out of the camera and filled the room with the smell of burnt plastic.

"It's melted." Minerva relayed. "How is that possible?"

"I can't be sure." Dumbledore swept his eyes over the group of students. He lingered for a moment on Harry. Then, again, on Melly. Though he pushed away from them and focused elsewhere. "Miss Ettington, tell us how you found Mister Creevey. Please spare no details."

Ettington launched into the tale. She began with leaving the deathday party, then to following the unusual spiders, before making it to finding Colin. The Headmaster enquired the rest of the group, each of them more or less confirming the story (the drunks providing the spectrum of differing answers). When they finished, the Headmaster dismissed the group and had McGonagall and Snape escort them back to their dormitories.

The Hufflepuffs followed after Snape in silence. Unfortunately for Melly, she was essentially shoved forward by the head while Snape muttered various disparaging comments about the effects of substance abuse damaging already damaged minds. Upon reaching the entrance, Merton quickly activated the door and stepped through. Kevin followed closely behind him.

"Potter, a word."

Harry froze a moment in fear. Snape surely hasn't looked inside his head, has he? No, he's sure the man hasn't used legilimency on him. Feeling assured, Harry nodded and stepped away from the door. Snape pushed Melly over to a wall and held a finger between her eyes. "Stay here. Do not move from this spot!"

The girl gave a one-fingered salute. "Toot, toot, Mister Trumpet, Sir!"

His face pinched with exasperation, but he pulled away and gestured Harry over to the other side of the hallway. "Yes, professor?"

Snape looked as though he'd bit into a lemon. "What do you know of the Chamber of Secrets, Mister Potter?"

Harry blanched. He bit the bottom of his lip. What he knew was a lot, but Snape doesn't need to know that. "It's where Salazar Slytherin hid a monster before he left Hogwarts. It's supposed to attack either muggles or muggleborns; and a girl died a few years ago… sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow, surprised at the forthcomingness of the information. "You know all of this, how?"

"It came up over the summer. Draco talked about it at Wayne's birthday party, and Uncle Sirius told me a bit more about the legend."

"...Draco Malfoy. I see… I trust you understand what it means, then, for people like Mister Creevey and… others..."

Snape turned his head slightly to the side. Harry followed suit in his friend's direction. "Yes, sir."

He nodded once. "Then I suggest you remain in your dormitories as often as possible. The last thing we need is another heroic adventure nearly getting students killed." He muttered disdainfully.

Harry ducked his head. "Understood, sir."

"Good. You're dismissed, Potter."

Harry fled from the professor's presence and made his way inside the common room. Everyone inside turned to stare his way. At once Harry felt self-conscious of the querying looks the others were giving him. Fortunately, Kevin had remained near the entrance and guided him up to their dorm. When they arrived, he was surprised to see Justin and Hannah waiting for them.

"What's going on?"

"We should be the ones asking that!" Justin said. "I thought she doesn't attack students!"

"She doesn't!"

"Then what happened to that boy?"

Kevin answered. "Dumbledore says he's been petrified. He's alive, but we're not sure what caused it."

"I think the answer's obvious!"

"No it isn't!" Harry retorted. "Basilisks can't petrify people."

"Because you're such an expert on all things Slytherin, right?!"

"Please, stop!" Hannah cut in. Her hands clasped tightly against her chest, and tears streamed down her cheeks. The other stopped, surprised and ashamed at the upset. "I… I'm scared and - I'm sorry, Harry- but I think Justin's right. It happened right outside the bathroom. That can't be a coincidence. We should tell someone what we know."

"No! If Caireen did this, I refuse to believe it was on purpose. If it wasn't her, maybe she'll have an idea of what caused it. Before we tell anyone, please, let me talk to her first."

"But, Harry, she-"

"She won't hurt me! Look, I know this is hard to understand, but Caireen is as much a friend to me as you all are." He gave pleading looks to all three of them. "Please give me a chance. I'll find out what caused this and put a stop to it! I promise!"

The other three looked nervously at one another. Each of them battling their own wars of insecurity. Slowly, they each began to nod. Kevin, though, was the one to speak. "Okay, talk to her first; but we can't wait long. There's no way we can keep quiet and risk something like this happening again. Not if we already know who's responsible."

"That's all I'm asking. Thank you, all of you. I'll find out who's behind this. You'll see."