The Potter Twins and the Chamber of Secrets

Chapter 3: Back to Hogwarts

Snape's Office, moments later….

The Evening Prophet is being held in the air. The headline reads: Flying Ford Anglia Mystifies Muggles. Below the fold a photo shows Harry, Michael and Lockhart at Flourish and Blotts.

Snape stands at his desk, newspaper in hand as Harry, Michael and Ron stare with dread. Filch lurks in the doorway, eying them with pleasure.

Snape, "you were seen! By no less then seven Muggles. Do you have any idea how serious this is? You have risked the exposure of our world. Not to mention the damage you inflicted on a Whomping Willow that has been on these grounds for hundreds of years."

Ron, "honestly, Professor Snape, I think it did more damage to us."

Snape, "silence! I assure you, were you in Slytherin and your fate rested with me, the three of you would be on the train home tonight. As it is-"

"They are not."

Harry, Michael and Ron turn. Dumbledore stands in the doorway. Alongside him is a distinctly annoyed McGonagall.

Harry, "Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall…."

Snape, "Headmaster, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry. As such…."

Dumbledore, "I'm well aware of our bylaws, Severus, having written more than a few myself. However, as Head of Gryffindor House, it is for Professor McGonagall to determine the appropriate action."

Ron rises gloomily and says, "we'll go and get our stuff."

McGonagall, "what are you talking about, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron, "well, you're going to expel us, aren't you?"

McGonagall, "not today, Mr. Weasley. But I must express upon all three of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be sending owls to your families tonight. And you will each get detention."

Snape casts a look of pure venom at Harry and Ron, but gives a kinder look at Michael.

Dumbledore, "splendid. Now, I suggest we return to the feast. There's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample."

Rising, Harry spies an envelope on the floor. Taking it, he reads the back:, "'Kwikspell. A correspondence course in beginner's magic.' It's addressed to: Mr. Argus Filch."

Michael, "Mr. Filch. You dropped this…."

Filch turns, eyes the envelope with embarrassment, then snatches it from Harry's hand and stuffs it into his pocket.

Harry and Michael looked at Ron before Michael whispered to his brother, "what the bloody Hell is a Squib?"

….

The Whomping Willow sulks in the courtyard, slings strung about its injured branches. We move on to see the exterior of a Greenhouse, where students hurry inside for the beginning of class.

….

As Michael, Harry and Ron enter, Seamus, Neville and some of the other Gryffindors hover nearby.

Neville, "detention. On the first day?"

Seamus, "that must be some kind of record."

Hermione, "I should think you'd count yourself lucky that's all you got."

Ron, "I should think you'd mind your own business."

Michael, "the only good that came out of it was learning that Filch is a Squib."

The others all looked shocked.

Seamus, "no way! A Squib?"

Neville, "my family thought I might've been one…. Before I cast my first spell by accident."

They glance at each other.

Professor Sprout, a squat little witch, taps her wand on a stack of pots and says, "welcome to Greenhouse Three, Second Years. Today, we will be re-potting Mandrakes. Now, whoere can tell me the properties of the Mandrake? Yes, Miss Granger."

Hermione, "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is used to return those who have been

transfigured to their original state. It's also quite dangerous. The Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it."

Sprout, "excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor. As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet. However, they will knock you out for several hours. That is why I have provided each of you with a pair of earmuffs. If you would then…."

Ron frowns. He's gotten a bright pink fluffy pair. Michael snickers at the misfortune. When the class is ready, Professor Sprout leads them to the garden area. She grasps one of the Tufty plants before her…. And pulls. Harry and Michael gasp. Instead of roots, a small, muddy, extremely ugly baby pops out of the earth, leaves growing right out of its head. Neville's eyes roll back, and he faints.

Professor Sprout plunges the bawling creature deep into a pot, removes her earmuffs, and the others follow suit.

Everyone, save Neville, who lies stretched on the ground.

Sprout, "hm. Looks as though Mr. Longbottom neglected his muffs."

Seamus, "no, ma'am. He's just fainted."

Sprout, "very well. We'll just leave him then. Come now. Four to a tray, plenty of pots to go round…."

….

Percy enters in the company of Penelope Clearwater, just as Nearly Headless Nick glides by.

Penelope, "there's Nearly Headless Nick!"

Percy, "hello, Sir Nicolas."

Nick, "hello, Percy. Miss Clearwater."

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione has her nose buried in Gilderoy Lockhart's Travels with Trolls. Michael rolls his eyes as he looks over a book by Newt Schsmander, while Fleet lays on his shoulder. Ron runs gobs of Spellotape over his broken wand and shakes his head grimly.

Ron, "say it. I'm doomed."

Harry, "you're doomed."

Michael, "big time."

FLASH!

A light blinds Harry and Michael. They blink and find a small boy standing before them with a camera.

Colin, "hiya, Harry. Michael. I'm Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor too."

Harry, "hello, Colin. Nice to meet-"

Colin, "they're for my dad…. The pictures. He's a milkman, you know, a Muggle, like all our family's been until me. No one knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till we got my letter from Hogwarts. Everyone just thought I was mental."

Ron, "imagine that."

Colin, "say, Harry, Michael. D'you think your friend could take a photo of me and you standing together? Ya' know, to prove I've met you?

Harry glances at Ron. He looks positively homicidal.

Mercifully, just then, owls stream into the Hall.

Dean Thomas, "post is here!"

One after another, the birds swoop gracefully down, clutching letters from home. All except one, who plops beak-first into Ron's soup. Errol.

Ron, "bloody bird's a menace…. Oh…. No…."

Seamus, "heads up, everyone. Weasley's gotten himself a Howler."

Michael, "what the heck is a Howler?"

Neville, "go on, Ron. I ignored one from my Grandma once…. And it was horrible."

Ron looks pale. Clutched in Errol's beak is a damp red envelope. Hands shaking, he takes it, opens it, and…. Mrs. Weasley's voice thundered, sending plates and spoons rattling.

"RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME", she suddenly softens, "oh, and Ginny dear. Congratulations on making Gryffindor. Your father and I are so proud."

Ginny, sitting a bit apart from the others, looks up shyly, then returns to the small black book she's scribbling in. Ron watches the envelope rip itself to pieces, then endures howls of laughter from the other House tables. Colin Creevey snaps a few photos. Harry and Michael look sympathetically at Ron, and even Fleet offers him a napkin in his tiny paws.

Harry, "look at it this way. How much worse can things get?"

Michael, "why do I get the feeling you jinxed us…."

….

Gilderoy Lockhart paces before the class. Hermione and the girls hang on his every word, while Harry, Michael and Ron eye the large, covered cage rattling mysteriously on his desk.

Lockhart, "let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most…. Charming-Smile Award…. But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

Lockhart awaits laughter. A few students smile weakly.

Lockhart, "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books."

Michael whispered, "I didn't."

Lockhart, "well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about. Just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in…."

Lockhart begins to circulate papers. Michael, Harry and Ron examine the questions.

Ron whispers to the twins, "look at these questions. They're all about him."

Harry, "'what is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?'"

Ron, "'what is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?'

Michael, "what is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?'"

Lockhart, "you have thirty minutes. Start…. Now!"

Quills begin to dart across pages….

….

Lockhart rifles through the completed exams.

Lockhart, "tut, tut. Hardly any of you remembered my favorite color is lilac. But Miss Hermione Granger knew that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair care potions. Good girl."

Hermione beams.

Michael whispers, "did anyone else find that creepy?"

Neville, Harry and Ron all discreetly nod.

Lockhart's expression suddenly darkens.

Lockhart, "now…. Be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourself facing your own worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here….", with a showman's flair, Lockhart turns slowly to the cage, "I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them."

A pale Neville draws back. Harry, Michael and Ron lean forward.

Lockhart lets the tension build, then whips off the cover. Inside the cage are several electric blue creatures. Eight inches tall, with pointed faces and wings, they rattle the bars and pull bizarre faces at the students.

Seamus, "Cornish pixies?"

Lockhart, "freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Unable to control himself, Seamus snorts with laughter.

Lockhart, "laugh if you will, Mr. Finnegan, but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters. Let's see what you make of them now!"

Lockhart flings open the cage. Instantly, the pixies rocket about, spraying the students with ink bottles, breaking beakers and shredding books. Two seize Neville by the ears, lift him into the air, and begin to circle the ceiling.

Michael, "let him go, you travel sized gremlins!"

Lockhart, "come on now, round them up, round them up. They're only pixies", he brandished his wand and yelled, "Peskipiski Pesternomi!"

The spell has absolutely no effect. A particularly obnoxious pixie makes a face, seizes Lockhart's wand and tosses it out the window. Lockhart joins the stampede to the door.

Lockhart, "I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage."

Slamming the door, he's gone. Harry, Michael, Ron and Hermione stand blinking.

Michael, "how the bloody Hell do we do that!?"

Several pixies fly at him, but bounce off of the barrier his scarf made around him.

Michael muttered, "thank you protective scarf."

Ron swats a pixie gnawing his ear.

Ron, "what do we do now?"

Hermione raises her wand and yells, "Immobilus!"

The pixies freeze in midair. Neville falls, plops onto Lockhart's desk, shaken but unhurt. He looks at Hermione.

Neville, "why is it always me?"

Michael helps Neville up and said, "why don't we get you looked over by the nurse?"

Neville, "thanks Michael."

….

Later, in the seventh floor corridor...

Fresh from the pixies, Michael, Hermione, Ron, Harry and Neville walk. Hair askew. Robes shredded.

Ron, "can you believe him?"

Hermione, "I'm sure Professor Lockhart just wanted to give us some hands-on experience."

Harry, "hands on? Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing."

Michael, "he was as clueless as an electrician trying to study a rock!"

Hermione, "rubbish. Read his books. You'll see all the amazing things he's done."

Ron, "he says he's done."

Michael, "I don't believe anything in those books. At least Newt Schamander showed proof of the fantastic beasts that he found."

….

Later, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry, Fred, George, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson, trail Oliver Wood through the courtyard, toward the distant Quidditch pitch. Several students are outside, studying.

Wood, "I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We're going to train earlier, harder, and longer", that's when he sees something that makes him go, "what the…. I don't believe it!"

Crossing the courtyard from the other side are seven boys in green robes, also carrying broomsticks. At their lead is Marcus Flint, the trollish Slytherin Captain. Ron, sitting at a table with Hermione and Michael, who was trying to learn to knit a little scarf for Fleet as they sat in front of him, look up.

Ron, "uh-oh. I smell trouble."

Wood, "clear out, Flint! I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today."

Flint, "easy, Wood. I've got a note."

As Wood snatches the parchment from Flint's hand, Ron, Michael and Hermione come up to join the others.

Wood, "'I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.' You've got a new Seeker? Who?"

A pasty-faced boy pushes to the front. It's…. Malfoy.

Harry, "Draco?"

Michael, "of course."

Draco, "that's right. And that's not all that's new this year…."

As one, the seven Slytherins hold out seven brand-new gleaming broomsticks.

The Gryffindors look stunned.

Ron, "those are Nimbus Two Thousand Ones."

Flint, "a generous gift from Draco's father."

Draco, "that's right, Weasley. You see, unlike some, my father can afford to buy the best."

Hermione, "at least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

Draco, "no one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

Everyone reacts as if Malfoy has said something horrific, everyone save Michael and Harry, who look puzzled. Even Fleet gave a little squeak of shock. Instantly, Fred and George fly for Draco's throat. Oliver Wood holds them back.

Wood, "save it for the match."

Ron, "you'll pay for that one, Malfoy", he whips out his wand, "eat slugs!"

Ron points his cracked wand at Malfoy.

PFFT!

A bolt of green light scissors out the wrong end, hitting Ron himself in the stomach. As he drops to the grass, Hermione runs to him.

Hermione, "Ron! Say something!"

Ron opens his mouth and…. Belches. Hermione draws back, and watches a trio of slugs dribble out his mouth. The Slytherins crow with laughter. Angrily, Ron rises, only to belch again. Fascinated, Colin Creevey runs up with his camera.

Colim, "wow! Can you hold him still, Harry?!

Michael, "get out of the way, Colin!"

Harry, "Hermione, let's take him to Hagrid. He'll know what to do…."

….

Later, at Hagrid's hut...

Hagrid rummages about, looking for something.

Hagrid, "got jus' the thing. Set 'im down on that chair o'er there."

As Ron sits, Hagrid pitches a bucket between his knees.

Harry, Michael and Hermione glance up questioningly. Hagrid shrugs.

Hagrid, "better out than in. Who was he tryin' ter curse anyway?"

Harry, "Malfoy. He called Hermione, well, I don't know exactly what it means…."

Hermione, "he…. He called me a Mudblood."

Hagrid gasps and yells in anger, "he didn'!"

The twins look confused. Hermione glances at them, then away, obviously pained by this.

Hermione, "it means dirty blood. Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born. Someone with non-magic parents. Someone…. Like me. It's not a term one usually hears in civilized conversation."

Michael, "sounds like the wizard equivalent to a racial slur. That's horrible."

Hagrid, "yeah…. See, Harry, Michael. There are some wizards, like Malfoy's family, who think they're better than everyone else 'cause they're what people call, 'pureblood.'"

Harry, "Michael is right. That's horrible."

Ron belches forth a slug and says, "it's disgusting!"

Hagrid, "an' it's codswallop ter boot. Dirty blood. There's 'ardly a wizard today that's not half-blood or less. If we 'adn't married Muggles we'd've died out long ago. Besides, they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do….", he takes her shoulder, "don' you think on it, Hermione. Don' you think on it fer a minute."

Hermione smiled with tears in her eyes and hugged Hagrid close. Michel and Harry joined the hug, and even Fleet scurried up and nuzzled Hermione's face.

Ron managed to pull himself together long enough to join the hug.

(I swear I'm gonna cry at every scene with Hagrid now.)

….

We later see the walls of Lockhart's office, lined with framed photos of…. Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry, Michael and Lockhart work by candlelight at an ornate desk. Bleary-eyed, Harry addresses envelopes, Michael puts the envelopes in a mail bag, while a cheery Lockhart puts his signature to the stack of glossy photos bearing his image.

Lockhart, "Harry, Michael, Harry and Michael…. Can you possibly imagine a better way to serve detention than by helping me answer my fan mail?"

Harry forces a smile while Michael doesn't try to hide his boredom.

Lockhart, "fame's a fickle friend, boy's. Celebrity is as celebrity does. Remember that."

Harry nods and Michael merely grunts, glancing gloomily at the towering stack of envelopes that remain. Dipping his quill, Harry starts to write, when…. A chilly voice fills the room.

"Come…. Come to me…."

Harry, "what?"

Michael looked at his brother in confusion as Lockhart said, "I was saying, six solid months at the top of the bestseller list! Broke all records!"

Harry, "no…. Not you, that…. Voice."

Lockhart, "voice?"

Michael, "what voice?"

Harry, "that…. Voice. Didn't you hear it?"

Lockhart, "what are you talking about, Harry? I think you're getting a bit drowsy. Great Scott, and no wonder, look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! Dinner's nearly done! If you hurry you might make pudding. Spooky how the time flies when one's having fun!"

Harry, "spooky."

Michael was supremely confused by what his brother heard.

….

Harry passes quickly through the lengthening shadows of the empty corridor, Michael following close behind, when….

"Blood…. I smell blood…."

Harry stops cold, looking around for the source of the voice.

Michael, "Harry? What's wrong?"

"Let me rip you…. Let me kill you…."

Harry steps to the wall, playing his fingers along the stone, then begins to walk, slowly at first, then more quickly, as if following something, moving faster and faster, Michael running after them as fast as they could, rounding the corner and coming face to face with…. Hermione and Ron.

Hermione, "Harry!"

Ron, "Michael!"

Harry, "did you hear it?"

Ron, "hear what?"

Harry, "that…. Voice."

Hermione, "voice? What voice?"

Michael, "I honestly don't know what he's talking about."

Harry's eyes start darting around as he says, "I heard it first in Lockhart's office and then again, just-"

"Kill…. Time to kill…."

As Harry stiffens, Michael, Hermione and Ron study him curiously.

Harry, "it's moving. I think it's going to…. Kill."

Harry runs off. Michael, Hermione and Ron exchange glances and follow.

Harry dashes madly, taking the steps three at a time. He makes the landing, rushes through the archway, and sleds to a stop, listening: Nothing. Slowly, he peers down. Water is oozing over the stone floor, surrounding his shoes. His own reflection appears and, behind it, undulating like a dream…. Words. Ron, Michael and Hermione come huffing up.

Ron, "Harry, what are you doing?"

Michael, "yeah, you're starting to freak us…. Out…."

He points. Shimmering on the wall are the words he saw reflected in water.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR…. BEWARE.

Hermione, "'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened...?'"

Ron, "what's that? Hanging underneath?"

Michael, "uh…. That ain't good, is what it is…."

Harry, "what's Filch's cat…. Mrs. Norris."

The cat hangs stiffly by her tail from a torch bracket, eyes open and blank. Harry's eyes shift to the adjacent window: near the topmost pane, spiders scuttle up a silvery thread, fighting to get through a crack in the glass.

Hermione, "look at that. Have you ever seen spiders act like that? Ron...?"

Ron starts backing away, "I…. Don't…. Like…. Spiders."

Suddenly, the stairwell is alive with voices and, seconds later, dozens of students stream forth, chartering. When they stop, seeing the wall and, standing before it, Michael, Harry, Ron and Hermione. A thudding silence falls. Then Draco pushes forward, eyes the wall, and grins nastily.

Draco, "enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Draco's eyes find Hermione.

Michael, "you better rephrase that Malfoy."

That's right when Filch appears.

Filch, "what's going on here? Go on now! Make way…. Mrs. Norris….", he turns toward Harry, "you! You've murdered my cat! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!"

Dumbledore marches forward, trailed by a phalanx of teachers. Seeing the wall, Dumbledore's face darkens.

Dumbledore, "everyone will proceed to their dormitories immediately."

Harry, Ron, Michael and Hermione try to walk away.

Dumbledore, "everyone except you four."

As the corridor empties, Dumbledore steps to the wall and, with extreme gentleness, removes Mrs. Norris.

Lockhart, "it was definitely a curse that killed her…. Probably the Transmogrifian Torture. Encountered it myself once, in Ouagadougou. The full story's in my autobiography…."

Dumbledore, "she's not dead. She's been petrified."

Lockhart, "precisely! So unlucky I wasn't there. I know the very countercurse that could have spared her…."

Michael just glares at Lockhart and his ramblings.

Dumbledore, "but how she's been Petrified…. I cannot say."

Filch starts pointing at Harry and Michael, "ask them! It's them that's done it. You saw what they wrote on the wall! Besides, they know I'm…. I'm a Squib."

Harry, "it's not true, sir! I swear! I never touched Mrs. Norris. And I don't even know what a Squib is."

Michael, "neither do I! We only heard the word a day ago!"

Filch, "rubbish! They saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might, Headmaster…."

The others turn and watch Snape separate from the shadows.

Snape, "perhaps Michael, his brother and his friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time…."

Could Snape be defending Harry and Michael?! The others blink. Them? Michael noticed that Snape seemed to try and defend Michael the most out of all four of them.

Snape, "however, the circumstances are suspicious. I, for one, don't recall seeing either Potter at dinner."

Lockhart, "I'm afraid that's my doing, Severus. You see, Harry and Michael were helping me answer my fan mail…."

As Snape's lip curls in disgust, Hermione leaps in.

Hermione, "that's why Ron and I went looking for them, Professor. We'd just found them when Harry said…."

Snape raises an eyebrow and says, "yes, Miss Granger?"

Harry, "when I said I wasn't hungry. We were heading back to the Common Room and…. Found Mrs. Norris."

Michael, "it's true, I was just making sure Harry got back to the common room before I went to get some food."

Snape eyes Harry coldly, and Michael warmly, knowing they're lying. Harry and Michael look away…. And find Dumbledore studying them as well.

Dumbledore, "innocent until proven guilty."

Filch, "my cat has been Petrified! I want to see some punishment!"

Dumbledore, "we will be able to cure her, Argus. As I understand it, Madam Sprout has a very healthy growth of Mandrakes. When they have matured, a potion will be made which will revive Mrs. Norris. In the meantime, I advise caution. To all…."

….

Reviews:

Canadude2029: well, glad you enjoyed the chapter.

Bailey Radcliff: glad you liked the chapter. Yeah, I wanna smack the Malfoy's too. I have a weiner dog.

….