A/N: Hello everyone! I know this chapter isn't terribly long, but between school and work and a 5-day power outage, it's actually a miracle that this chapter is finished at all. I hope you all enjoy it! :)

He should have just listened to Snape. He should have forgotten all about the deathday party, and just gone to the Halloween feast like everybody else.

Because ultimately, the professor had been right. Deathday parties were no place for the living.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood close together in a corner of the large dungeon room, too filled with revulsion to even pay much attention to the scene playing out before them.

A long stone table was pushed up against the opposite wall, and the entire length of it was piled high with all manner of rotten and spoiled food. The trio had nearly gagged upon entering the room as the foul smell of the salmon reached their noses, and they had quickly retreated to the far side of the dungeon to escape the stench.

"How can they stand it?" Ron asked incredulously, using the sleeve of his robe to cover his nose and mouth. "That's horrible."

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione replied, speaking through the hand that covered her own face. "Ghosts can't really eat food. But if they can smell it, they might be able to almost taste it."

"Well, I can't take much more of this," the redhead responded, shaking his head. "Harry, can we go now?"

Harry watched as a particularly portly ghost passed right through a platter of moldy cheese, sighing longingly as he drifted away soon after. "Yeah," he answered with a nod. "Let me just find Nick so I can wish him well."

"What are you supposed to say?" Ron asked, screwing up his face. "Happy deathday? Is it really right to congratulate someone on dying?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "But Nick is throwing a party. So he apparently thought it was worth celebrating."

"This way," Hermione said then, indicating that the boys should follow her out of their corner. "Hurry up."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, carefully navigating his way across the room so that he didn't accidentally walk through any of the other party guests.

"To find Nick. I thought I saw him over here a minute ago."

But as the trio began to walk, a long, loud, screeching noise suddenly reached their ears. And then there was a terrible scraping sound, like thousands of nails on a chalkboard.

"Aahhh," Harry groaned, his hands instantly flying up to protect his ears as, all around him, dozens of ghosts suddenly moved away from the walls and headed straight towards the dance floor.

"They call this music?" Ron continued to complain over the horrible sound. "Harry, can we please get out of here, now?"

But before he could respond, Hermione suddenly turned around and began pushing the boys back in the direction they had just come from.

"Hurry, I don't want her to see us!" the girl said quickly.

"Who?" Harry and Ron asked in unison.

"Moaning Myrtle!" Hermione hissed under her breath. "She haunts the girl's bathroom on the first floor. And I really don't want to—"

But Harry's eyes suddenly widened at the sight of who was approaching them from the other direction, and he instinctively took a step back, accidentally stepping on Hermione's foot in the process.

"Ouch!" the girl exclaimed in surprise. "Harry, what—?

But a gleeful cackle interrupted Hermione's question. "Ooohh! Potty has come to the party!" Peeves exclaimed, twirling a bright orange bowler hat around in his hands as he hovered in front of the three Gryffindors. "You haven't knocked over any more trophy cases, have you?" the poltergeist taunted, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"You knocked the trophy case over!" Harry shot back. "And you got me in trouble with Filch!"

Peeves just laughed harder as he began zooming in circles above Harry's head.

"Let's get out of here," Ron hissed, jerking his head towards the door.

"But what about Nick?" Hermione asked, glaring disapprovingly up at Peeves.

"I don't see him anywhere! Let's just go!" Ron answered, reaching out to grab both Hermione's and Harry's arms so that he could drag them to the exit.

But in the next moment, Harry jerked backwards, flinching away from Ron's hand as his eyes grew wider than they had a moment before and his gaze moved frantically about the room.

I smell blood…Time to kill…

"Did you hear that?" the boy asked urgently. "Please tell me you heard that."

But both Ron and Hermione just stared at Harry in absolute shock.

And then Harry was moving, bolting for the exit as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione called, the fear evident in her voice as she and Ron ran to catch up with their friend.

"There's a voice," Harry answered, still not slowing down. "A voice in the walls. It's going to kill somebody."

"What?" Ron and Hermione said together, now struggling to keep up with Harry.

But Harry didn't answer. He was too busy straining his ears, listening for that voice.

So hungry…need to KILL…

A sickening feeling settled in the pit of Harry's stomach, then. And he forced himself to run even faster.

Severus allowed himself one small sigh of relief as he exited the Great Hall through the door behind the staff table. The silence of the private corridor was most welcome just then, and the potions master couldn't help but to be grateful to the headmaster for allowing him to leave the feast so early. He had certainly had enough sweets and fun and dancing skeletons to last him at least until next year.

And now, to put himself into an even better mood, he was going to go down to the dungeons, drag Potter out of that infernal deathday party by his ear, and—

"Harry, please slow down!" called a young, terrified voice.

"What is it, Harry?" another voice followed, the sound echoing down the hallway that the potions master was currently occupying.

And suddenly, Snape was practically sprinting down the corridor in the direction of the entrance hall.

But by the time he reached his destination, he was alone, the last pounding footsteps on the Grand Staircase almost completely faded away.

Severus let out a low growl of frustration as he moved towards the stairs. Leave it to Potter to completely ruin the rest of his evening.

When he got his hands on the little brat, he was definitely going to make him pay.

"Harry!" Hermione called, for what must have been the hundredth time. "Please stop!"

And without any sort of warning, Harry suddenly complied, skidding to a halt as he rounded a corner onto another passageway. Both Ron and Hermione very narrowly missed running right into his back.

"What was that all about?" Ron demanded, clutching a stitch in his side as he panted for breath. Next to him, Hermione was also breathing hard, one hand resting against the stone wall as she took a moment to regain her bearings.

But there was no answer. Because Harry was suddenly moving again, racing to the other end of the corridor, where a small dark shape was suspended in the air, hanging from a torch bracket on the wall.

A few seconds later, Ron and Hermione followed after him, squinting their eyes to try to make out what the mysterious shape was.

But their attention was soon diverted by something shiny to their left, and Hermione let out an audible gasp a moment later as she saw the message written in bright red letters on the wall.

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

"Harry?" Ron asked tentatively, turning his attention back to his now silent friend, and following his gaze to the dark shape hanging in front of them.

"Is that—?" he began.

"Mrs. Norris," Hermione stated, her eyes widening in shock.

"No," Harry whispered simply, shaking his head in denial. "No."

The boy moved forward then. He needed to get the feline down. He needed to get her some help.

"Harry, what are you—?" Ron started to ask.

But then there was another voice in the corridor. And the trio immediately turned to face the new arrival.

"What exactly is going on here?" Snape demanded, as he swept down the hall towards the three second years.

Both Ron and Hermione eyed the man fearfully. What if Snape tried to blame them for whatever it was that had happened here?

But Harry didn't hesitate. He hurried forward to meet the potions master, nearly slipping in a puddle of water as he did so.

Snape's hand shot out automatically to keep the boy from falling over, his hand closing around the child's upper arm. "Why is it that you are always up to something, Potter?" the man asked menacingly.

But his tone went completely unnoticed by Harry, who began speaking just a second later.

"Please, sir! You have to help her! She's hurt!"

Ron and Hermione exchanged identical looks of shock, then. Was Harry really asking Snape to help save Mrs. Norris? What was going on?

Snape, too, looked surprised at the boy's plea, and his gaze lingered on the second year's face for a moment longer before moving over towards the wall, and then to the cat hanging by its tail.

"You can help her, can't you, sir?" Harry asked then, more quietly this time. "Like you helped Hedwig? Please?"

Snape was at a loss. This was not how he had expected this confrontation to go. But one thing was for certain. He needed to inform the headmaster immediately.

"Millie!" the man called, a certain level of urgency now clear in his tone.

A moment later, all three of the Gryffindors jumped as Millie the house elf suddenly popped into existence. Snape frowned at the violent flinch Harry exhibited in that moment, and finally released the boy from his grasp.

"You be calling me, Master Snape, sir?" the little elf asked in disbelief. The potions master almost never called on the house elves.

"Yes," the man bit out, irritated. "I need you to go to the Great Hall and inform the headmaster that he is needed here immediately. Tell him that all of the students should be sent straight to their dormitories. It is an emergency."

Millie nodded her head vigorously, her ears flapping against her head. "Yes, Master Snape, sir."

And with that, the small creature disapparated.

Snape sighed. He didn't like using the house elves very often. But in this case, he figured it would cause less of a stir than a patronus would.

The man turned back to the Gryffindors, then, his gaze now falling on a pair of expectant green eyes.

Trust. That was what Dumbledore claimed to see in those emerald depths.

Snape quickly looked away and opened his mouth to speak.

But before he could say anything else, there was another voice in the corridor.

"What is this? What is going—?"

And then there was silence for a brief moment, and a chill immediately went up and down Harry's spine at the familiar sound of that voice.

"Mrs. Norris?"

It was only a moment later then that the caretaker stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to the group.

A/N: Let me know what you think! As always, I will continue writing this story just as soon as I have a bit of free time (whenever that may be...)

Thanks for reading!

-Ailee17