Quiet filled the hallways as Hermione strolled through the castle during her night on duty the following week. She yawned, the sound echoing off the stone, disturbing the castle's slumber. Exhausted, she hugged her cloak closer around her frame and shuddered. It had been a long day, with the first and second years having major exams, the fifth years frantically studying for their OWLS, and the seventh years practicing diligently for their NEWTS. After classes, she had once again joined Harry, Ron, and Draco in the Room of Requirement for further training.

Coming upon a window seat in the Ravenclaw hallway, she sank down onto its cushioned bench. She wanted to sit down and rest for a moment. She was almost off-duty. Just two more rounds of the castle, then it would be two o'clock and Professor Flitwick's turn to patrol.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and, turning her head to the side, rested her cheek against her knees. Gazing out the window, she saw the stars twinkling down on Hogwarts. She loved this building, with its nooks and crannies and idiosyncrasies. It was home, and the people who lived here were her family.

A soft rustle caught her attention, and her head shot up in surprise. Withdrawing her wand, she whispered into the empty space, "Peeves? Is that you?"

From behind her, a crash sounded. She jumped, startled at the sound. Peering through the dark hallway, she slowly stepped forward, her wand extended in front of her. I'm just being paranoid, she told herself. There's no one there. You just imagined it.

No, you didn't just imagine it, another voice said inside of her. Something crashed. Someone had to cause it. Heavy stone objects don't just fall randomly out of the sky.

Suddenly, arms came around her from behind. She screamed, but it was cut short by a silencing charm. "You will be quiet," whispered an awful voice. It was the last thing she remembered before a heavy sleep fell over her.

Hermione woke slowly, a dull thud pounding the side of her head. She felt like she had drunk ten butterbeers in a row, and she knew that she would never do that. She was strong, opinionated, and stubborn, and she had too much self-control to overindulge. Restlessly, she gazed around, spotting Karl Moorehouse.

Lifting her head cautiously, she peered at her surroundings.

"Ah, so you are awake," mused Karl. He reached over with his wand and lifted her lank hair. "Pansy and I have been waiting for you."

Hermione lifted herself to shift further to the right. Sure enough, Pansy Parkinson was standing ten feet from her, her wand pointed directly at her, a slight tremor in her hands. Hermione sighed and lowered herself back down to the ground once again.

"So, you don't think you should be afraid," said Karl, his voice echoing off of the stone walls. He paced slowed back and forth, between a massive stone carving and a path that surely led out of this dark and dank place.

"Where… where am I?" Hermione croaked, her voice straining against the dryness of her throat.

Karl laughed humorously. "Haven't you figured it out, yet, Granger? Or, should I say, Professor?"

Hermione gave him a dark look. "Moorehouse, you will be graded poorly on your next exam."

Karl laughed again. "You still have a sense of humor. There is much admiration in that. I certainly wouldn't be laughing if I were in the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione lifted her head again. "So that is where we are? I had always wondered what it looked like. Harry described it, of course, but I never thought I would get to see the real thing." She dropped her body, too tired to keep it uplifted. She knew that she had to conserve her strength. She had more than she wanted to let them know. She sent a silent prayer to Draco, Ron, and Harry, hoping that they could hear her.

Up in a girls' bathroom on the second floor of Hogwarts, Draco, Ron, and Harry were arguing about how to descend into the depths of the building.

"I'm telling you, Malfoy, the only way to get down there is to open the chamber," said Harry. "I've done it before. I can do it again. We just have to hurry."

Draco, unconvinced by anything that Harry Potter said, grumbled, "How can you be sure that she is down there? It's going to take ten minutes to figure out whether she is there or not, and if you aren't right, then…" His voice drifted off and he shuddered. He didn't want to think of the consequences.

All three of the men had been taking turns following Hermione around during her night patrols, using the potion that Draco brewed to make them invisible. They had agreed to keep it a secret from Hermione, and an odd sort of bond had formed between the three of them. Ron, who had been on duty when Hermione was taken, shook his head and crossed his arms. "Here's your proof that she's down there… how come you didn't tell us that Parkinson could speak Parseltongue?"

Draco stopped his next sentence short and turned pink. "How did you know that? I'd forgotten, actually."

"Because she was speaking it when Moorehouse brought her up to this bathroom. I snuck in long enough to figure out where they were going before I got the two of you," said Ron.

"But you didn't physically see the Chamber door open?" asked Draco.

Ron shook his head. "But she's down there. I know she is."

Harry had taken the opportunity of the distraction to begin circling the sinks in the center of the girls' bathroom. At last, he found what he was looking for. A small snake etched into the faucet, glinting in the candlelight of the bathroom. Concentrating, he slowly began to hiss a command.

"Open," Harry stated, but his voice was normal.

Draco and Ron fell silent, staring at Harry, but he tried to ignore them. With complete concentration, he hissed out his command one more time. "Open the Chamber of Secrets."

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Draco become paler than he already was and Ron nodding his approval.

"Keep going, mate," whispered Ron in a voice of awe. A slight grinding noise rose from between two of the enamel sinks. The floor began to move and a flurry of activity ensued. Before their eyes, the sinks changed form to reveal a deep endless tunnel.

Draco's eyes bugged out of his face, but Ron and Harry looked grim. They exchanged a tacit agreement. They had to go back into the Chamber, as Harry had done once before.

"Whoa," said Draco quietly, his voice full of awe. He peered over the edge of the hole, his knees bent, his hands on his knees. Flipping his long blond hair out of his face, he leaned over further.

"Unless you want to fall down that tunnel headfirst, I wouldn't lean over much further," advised Harry, watching Draco's fascination with the entrance. "Are you ready?"

Draco stood tall and nodded fearlessly. "I'll go first." Sitting down at the edge of the hole, holding his wand in his hand, he shoved off and disappeared into the darkness below.

Ron and Harry followed and landed hard on the stone. Draco was standing, brushing off his robes. Harry and Ron rose, and pulled out their wands. The three men started walking towards a wall, an elaborate carving of five intertwining snakes etched in the stone.

Harry walked forward, ahead of the other two. Ron and Draco paused, unsure of what Harry was about to do. Harry hissed lowly, an incantation that caused the snakes to unweave and untangle to reveal a handle. Slowly, ever so slowly, the door creaked open to reveal the chamber inside.

Karl sat upon a precipice along the water in the underground chamber, twirling his wand in his hand. Pansy stood silently next to him, her wand still focused upon Hermione.

A noise startled them, and their heads shot up as Draco walked through the door to the Chamber.

Karl laughed humorlessly. "Ahh, I see that you found our 'secret' hiding place, Malfoy. Yes, your girlfriend is here. How does it feel to see your girlfriend lying here, on the ground, defenseless?"

Pansy joined Karl, laughing mirthlessly at Draco's situation.

"You are pathetic, Moorehouse, Pansy. Going so low as to kidnap a teacher," said Draco, slowly approaching them. He glanced at Hermione to see if she was okay. From what he could tell, she was still strong enough to move on her own.

"A teacher?" shrieked Pansy. "What did she ever teach us? Everything that we pretended to learn in class, we already knew!" Vile poured from her mouth. Her hatred overcame every bit of sensibility that she had. She walked forward, her eyes on Draco now. "We only pretended to learn something. We didn't wish to be expelled from Hogwarts before the Death Eaters finished their mission. We knew that we had to help them. You pointed that out to us." She stopped several feet away from him, her wand now aimed directly at Draco's heart.

Draco stared unflinchingly at Pansy. He watched the emotions flit across her face. She was jealous, he realized. She didn't really care about what Karl Moorehouse was doing. She was using the situation to get back at him, Draco, because she was hurt. She didn't understand. He had changed so much over the summer; he would never be what he used to be, the boy who had constantly wanted someone's approval, often her approval.

"Pansy," he said quietly, "this is not about us. This is about so much more. Did Moorehouse even tell you why he was trying to hurt Hermione?" He approached her slowly. She didn't back away. She never had. He had to admire her for that.

"He's trying to hurt me, because I killed his father. It has nothing to do with Hermione. He's using her as bait and you as an accomplice. He probably has it set up so that you'll be left with the body and a modified memory. Think about it." Draco was close enough to touch her now. He didn't, though. He kept his hands to himself and one eye on Moorehouse, who was watching the proceedings with an aloof manner.

Pansy tore her gaze from Draco's and glanced at Moorehouse and then at Hermione lying lifeless on the ground. "I don't care. As long as you suffer, I don't care what happens." Before he could stop her, she swung her right hand back, her wandless hand, and slapped him hard across the cheek.

The blow took Draco by surprise. He staggered a little, stars lighting up the peripheral of his vision. He heard Pansy screech a hex, and he threw himself to his left, nimbly dodging it. She threw another curse at him, and he agilely jumped to the other side. She was a witch gone beserk, her emotions reeling and hatred spewing forth in her actions.

Karl watched, slightly fascinated by the attack. When he had brought Pansy with him, he knew that she wanted revenge on Malfoy. But, he had never imagined such venom within her. With a flick of his wrist, Karl tossed a curse into the fray, "Crucio!" Instead of hitting Malfoy, it deflected off a rock and hit Pansy square in the chest. The hexes ceased, and she fell to the ground, shaking.

Realizing his mistake, Karl merely shrugged and turned his full attention to Malfoy. The precious moment of error had given Draco what he needed to recover. Straightening, he pointed his wand at Karl and screamed, "Impedimenta!"

Karl threw himself to the side, dodging the spell. From the other side of Draco, a female voice yelled, "Crucio!" The spell hit Malfoy in the middle of his back.

The curse took Malfoy completely by surprise. He fell to the ground, his entire body twitching with pain. Waves of excruciating pain washed over him. He ached all over, from his feet to his neck and everything in between. The pain was consuming and all he could think was that he wanted to die.

Pansy was laughing at him. Karl watched, his expression detached.

From the middle of the chamber, a low voice yelled, "Stupefy!" Karl was instantly thrown down, knocked out from the spell. Pansy whipped in the direction of the voice, letting the spell fizzle out. Draco, relieved from the pain but disoriented, scrambled to his feet.

There stood Ron, his form transparent, as if he were a ghost. The potion that he and Harry had taken was wearing off. Draco knew that Harry had been there, watching, and had run off to get help. Those were the plans, and he hoped that Harry had stuck to them.

"How did you get down here, Weasel?" cried Pansy, trying to keep her eye on both young men at once. She kept glancing from one to the other, for the first time looking slightly nervous. Her breathing came in fast and heavy.

"He came with me," said Draco, quietly, clutching his middle despite himself. "I told you, Pansy, that this was about so much more. You are a fool."

It was as if his voice brought her anger back. She wheeled around to face Draco, flinging a curse at his chest. Draco turned quickly to the right, allowing the curse to ricochet off of the rock. Unfortunately, it nicked Ron in the shoulder, knocking the wind from him.

"Sectumsempra!" Pansy was so close to Draco that the curse hit him dead on. Already weak from the Cruciatus Curse, Draco was flung to the ground, blood spurting from his chest. His wand flew out of his hand and he grasped at the air in front of him, before sinking to the stone ground.

Pansy laughed, the sound hysterical. She leaned over Draco and said, "Always thought you were better than the rest of us, didn't you? Always trying to make friends with that whore Granger, huh? In the end, the Dark Lord always wins."

"Stupefy!" cried Hermione, her struggling figure only feet away from Pansy. She had managed to crawl over to the pair without drawing attention to herself. Her hair hung limp around her face and a dark smudge covered one cheek. The hand holding her wand was scratched up.

"You bitch, nobody makes an ass out of me and gets away with it," said Hermione in a low voice. Her wand pointed directly at the back of Pansy's head. Pansy's expression was one of surprise. She had barely had time to register that she was being attacked before she was frozen. Her body fell gracefully to the ground, her hands folding underneath her to pillow her fall, her hair splayed unceremoniously around her.

Hermione lowered her wand and pushed her own unruly hair out of her face. "It's been a long day, and I've had it with the damn Slytherins." With a surprising amount of energy, she stumbled forward to the door of the Chamber.

A barely conscious Ron raised his upper body slowly, rubbing his shoulder and gazing at his retreating friend. He turned to Harry, who was standing in the doorway to the Chamber, Professor McGonagell and Professor Dumbledore behind him.

"She's gone mental, she has," concluded Ron. "There's no other explanation."