Thank you for responding so well to my plea for reviews on the last chapter. This made me a very happy bunny indeed. I am doing my best to get this written at a half decent rate and hopefully you enjoy the fruits of my labours. Halloween is finally upon us. Would you believe it, but the events of Halloween are a whopping 40% through Chamber of Secrets, which makes me feel less guilty about my 20,000 words to get here! Anyway, read, enjoy and please, please, please, review.


Chapter 6: The Chamber Is Opened

"Attention!" I call as I walk into my class. The second year group are all hyperactive and unmanageable with their anticipation of the Halloween festivities. "Anybody who is not sat down and quiet in the next ten seconds will be facing detention with Mr Filch."

Groans meet my announcement, but bottoms hit seats regardless and the classroom settles down into relative quiet. Under normal circumstances, this would still be too loud but I have a surprise up my sleeve today. After all, getting them to concentrate on Transfiguration when they are quite so excitable is far more trouble than it is worth.

"Right, many of you will have seen this sheet of parchment before," I state quietly but firmly, allowing the class to quiet further in order to hear my voice. Waving my wand lazily, I levitate the papers around the room effortlessly, dropping them onto desks as they go. "Those of you with older siblings in particular, or indeed with parents who have taken an interest in the new teaching methods and curriculum this year. Those of you without that advantage, particularly the muggleborn amongst you, may have only seen the lower year's changes that we have implemented, so this will be new to you."

It is, after all, rather difficult to involve muggle parents in the decisions of Hogwarts. It's an entirely different world to the one they are familiar with and descriptions of the more basic classes alone is beyond most of their ability to comprehend. Some things are easier than others; Herbology and Potions for example. But it would be impossible to explain the complexity of Transfiguration or the utter absurdity of some of the magical species, let alone their languages and politics.

"As I suspect you will all have guessed, today's lesson will not be focussed on Transfiguration," I continue, glancing across the room to check that I have the class's full attention. "Instead, we are going to look at the new curriculum and discuss how you might like to move forward with it as you enter your third year at Hogwarts."

"But that's ages away yet, Professor," a familiar voice from the back groans, as it's owner looks at the list in some dismay. "We've barely even started this year yet!"

"If you would prefer it, Mister Finnigan, you can complete an hour long test to demonstrate just how much you remember from last year?" The next groan is even louder than the first. "No. Well. Let us get on then. Why do you think it might be important to look at your options now?" I wait a beat. "Anyone?"

Typically, the Granger girl's hand is the first to rise.

"This curriculum looks far more complex than the Ministry approved OWLs and NEWTs," she says slowly, scanning a finger down the list as she speaks. "And there's a far greater inter-dependency with various courses. So whilst previously we were getting a standard generalised education, the changes allow us to specialise much earlier."

"Exactly, Miss Granger. Five house points to Gryffindor." I smile at the look of pride on her face. "Another five if you can tell me why it is therefore important for you to understand what is on offer now, rather than panicking later."

"Well, it's going to need a lot more thought and concentration," the girl answers, still looking at the list. "Not to mention research and a huge amount of organisation. I mean you'd have to balance your TOAD classes carefully in order to allow you to specialise in whatever subjects you might be interested in for IMP. Otherwise you will end up in a complete mess, Professor."

"Excellently analysed. Five more points to Gryffindor as promised." I look around the rest of the classroom. "Now, of course we are all here to help you and I am sure any of the staff would be glad to talk you through their classes in brief if you approached them. Alternatively, you can always approach myself or any other of the Heads of Houses for advice or support. But as an example… Mister Boot, what are your main interests?"

"Potions, Professor McGonagall," the quiet younger says immediately, without any hesitation whatsoever. "I enjoy Defence classes as well, but Potions is my best subject. Even before Professor Reynolds took over."

"Right," I decide to ignore his latter comment. It wasn't exactly insulting towards Severus and Merlin knows, my younger colleague more than deserves his reputation amongst the students anyway. "As you can see, there are three IMP level classes based solely around Potions; you have the option to study restorative potions, alteration potions and a special course focussed entirely on the more dangerous potions including toxins, poisons and battle potions. You have actually picked one of the simpler pathways to take, if that is the route you choose to go down. Any ideas, Mister Boot?"

"I'd just need the basic Potions class to take Alteration Potions and then Healing in order to take Restorative Potions, Professor. For Battle Potions I'd need to take Restorative Potions anyway as well as Healing. So that's only the three."

"Don't forget that the Healing Class requires you to continue with Herbology and Charms," I interject. "This is why it is so important to start thinking about this now. That would leave you with five classes, but both of the above may prove useful for Potions in terms of understanding your ingredients and being able to master the necessary charms for warming, stirring and such like. We are anticipating that the majority of students will take around nine courses at the IMP level. So where else might you focus your attention?"

"If you were interested in Healing as a main focus then Mind Healing would be a good option as you'd already have Potions, Charms and Healing, so you'd then only need to add in new Defence class, but that still only makes seven…"

"And are you specifically interested in healing?"

"Not really beyond the basics, Professor." The youngster admits thoughtfully, his quill scratching at the paper aimlessly. "I'd like to be able to make myself useful in an emergency, but it's not a career path I'd be really interested in taking…"

"So mind healing probably isn't for you…" I remark with a smile, impressed despite myself at his attitude. It isn't every second year with that kind of common sense approach to their future. "It is after all one of the most technically challenging, demanding and high risk specialities and requires utter dedication."

"Other than that Professor, I guess I'd mainly be interested in the new Defence classes, Magical Theory and maybe Alchemy. They don't link together so well, but…"

"Don't sell your choices short, Mister Boot," I cut across him. "I have certainly heard Alchemy described as a form of Transfiguration by way of Arithmancy, which is one of the reasons you would have to take both those classes as a precursor to even beginning to begin to dabble in the art. Additionally, it does have distinct similarities to Potions at the Masters level and certainly, Golpalott's Third Law takes its roots in both Potions and Alchemy. It would therefore certainly serve you well when it comes to how many possible routes you may have to whatever objective you choose. Defence and Protective Spellcraft is useful across the board, hence why it is taught as a mandatory subject right off the bat, however does it not occur to you to consider why Professor Snape has such an impressive array of spells at his disposal?"

"Yeah, 'cause he's about as dark as they come and everyone knows it…"

I don't need to look up to recognise the voice.

"That's enough, Mister Finnigan. You will treat all members of staff with respect regardless of your personal feelings," I snap, meeting his gaze with a look that could freeze fire. "Ten points from Gryffindor and I expect you to apologise to Miss Granger for undoing all of her hard work this class. Another comment like that and you will be joining Filch for an after class detention, missing all the Halloween festivities in the process, do I make myself understood?"

"Yes, Professor," the boy mumbles down to his desk. "Sorry, Professor."

"So, any thoughts? Mister Corner perhaps?"

"Well, I guess some potions can be really quite volatile and if something goes wrong they might explode or even worse, turn toxic." He looks up at me and I nod encouragingly. "So much like Charms can help you to prepare ingredients or heat and cool cauldrons, if you're working with highly unstable ingredients or substances, you'd want to be able to throw up a variety of shields in case something didn't work."

"Excellent, five points to Ravenclaw. There are a variety of spells that can be used to simplify or advance the art of potion making." I look back at Terry Boot before continuing. "And finally, Magical Theory is at the very heart of everything we do and can be linked to every subject and specialism. You will find it far easier to understand why certain things work or how different fields of magic interlink if you have a thorough grounding in this topic. So that leaves you with…?"

"Ten, Professor," the youngster replies with a frown. "Is that allowed? You said that most students will take nine?"

"It is all going to come down to capability and how much your Professors believe you will be able to handle. Some of you will do less than nine, some of you will do more. This may have nothing to do with aptitude in some cases though; there are certain combinations which will be far more difficult and indeed in some cases more dangerous. In those cases we may recommend that individuals drop other unrelated courses in order to maximise their learning where it is most important."

"What courses do you mean, Professor?" The Granger girl speaks almost before her hand is raised.

"A good example would be Warding and Curse Breaking," I watch as her quill scribbles hurriedly across the curriculum page. "Both require the same four courses; Arithmancy, Runes; Ancient to Modern, Protective and Defensive Spellcraft and Lore and of course Charms in order to take them at the IMP level. After all, both warding and curse breaking are strenuous, dangerous and exceptionally challenging specialisms to work in. Whilst it may be helpful to have a TOAD in Healing, we would likely suggest that most students drop it at the higher level in order to stick with the six courses or be very careful about what else they decide to take. Where a career in Gringotts is the aim, the courses in Magical Species Languages and Inter-species Relations may be of interest, but this would be managed on a case by case basis."

"Bill manages all right and he never had any lessons here about it!" the youngest Weasley interrupts somewhat scathingly, but I don't miss the clear pride in his tone. "Can't be that difficult then, Professor!"

"You may not realise this Mister Weasley, but your older brothers have been exemplary students all around," he scoffs and I know he's thinking of the twins. However, whatever else you can say about those two red-headed demons, they are more than above average in magical proficiency. Their concentration is the usual factor at fault for their low grades. "But even with that proviso, your brother would have had to undergo a gruelling series of training under the goblins and they do not take fools lightly. I can say with certainty that our new courses will reduce if not entirely cut the need for this further specialist training after graduation, particularly as Professor Weasley is running the courses under the direct guidance of Gringotts itself."

"I thought that the goblins hated witches and wizards, Professor?" A small voice from the very back of the room piped up. "What's changed?"

"Relationships certainly have always been strained between the goblin and human races of magical beings," I say, glancing once more around the room for my next victim. "Mister Longbottom, can you tell us why and what you think might be the reason behind the sudden change of heart?"

"Relations between the two races have been fraught for centuries," he answers surprisingly calmly and with an underlying confidence in his words. "If you talk to some pureblood factions of the wizarding population, they will lay the blame for this squarely on the shoulders of the goblins; that has certainly been the education systems mind-set when planning the curriculum, as all of us are more than aware of. It is important to realise however that just as much blood has been spilt on the goblin side of the wards and rebellions that we hear so much about. Much of their resentment comes from the abiding sense of most witches and wizards that the goblins are somehow subservient to us…"

"Aren't they?" Lavender Brown cuts in curtly, offense clear in her tone. I hold my breath, waiting to see if I need to jump in. "After all, they are…"

"They are hugely intelligent, as much or perhaps more so than the average wizard," the boy raises his voice slightly, in order to resume what he was saying, but otherwise doesn't seem to react to Brown's interruption. "They have a complex language that barely anyone outside of their own race bothers to learn, they have numerous skills and powerful magic that could easily overpower all but the strongest of wizards if they do chose to. Despite having this huge source of magical energy and power, they are refused the use of a wand due to inane legal bylaws and political power play. Despite this, they all but control the wizarding economy, could crash it with very little effort and you still call them inferior?"

"So why might they have changed their minds?" I ask, with some genuine interest. I hadn't expected a shrewd analysis of inter-species relations when I asked the question.

"I don't think anything has," Longbottom surprises me again with his blunt response. "Goblins still actively mistrust or even hate wizards. They still resent the fact that we will not permit them the use of a wand. The more extremist members would likely like to see us all murdered in our sleep, much as the most conservative and blinkered thinking purebloods see no role for muggleborns in wizarding society, despite the vast majority of Hogwarts students now being muggleborn or half-bloods. The prejudice is too ingrained to be easily removed now."

Interesting. I knew the boy was far more liberal in his thinking than many of the long-standing pureblood houses, but I hadn't realised just how liberal his earlier education must have been. The stance on blood purity was hardly radical, but the rights of magical creatures, even ones with a basically humanoid appearance like goblins, were a far more heated issue. I suppose we should be glad that in Britain the creatures we come across are generally relatively harmless and many have no interest in becoming part of the wizarding society. Replace our centaurs with the Asian aqrabuamelu however, and we'd be playing on a whole different board. I suppose we should be grateful that Hagrid never got his hands on a young one to introduce to the forest… the centaurs are more than prickly enough and at least they only have four legs and can't sting you to death.

"I think Gringotts has simply seen an opportunity to recoup some of their losses over the years," the Longbottom boy continues, cutting through my thoughts.

"How so?" I comment lightly.

"Since they are not permitted wands, there are several roles within Gringotts which have to be filled by a witch or wizard. Currently, as you yourself pointed out earlier, they have to expend a great deal of effort and financial resources to bring any hireling up to their exacting standards. If Hogwarts is able to take the brunt of this, the goblins get to redirect their efforts and embarrass the Ministry by funding wizarding education so openly. It's a win win situation for them really."

"Well analysed, Mister Longbottom. Another five points to Gryffindor." I glance around the class. "Now, if all of you want to start looking at the sheets in front of you and considering your future options here at Hogwarts." A wave of my wand brings a series of books crashing down on the back table, along with neatly organised piles of paper. "Behind you there are the basic syllabus lists for all of the courses and some introductory texts on many of the subjects. Feel free to peruse any of the resources and if there is something in particular you are looking for, I will be happy to locate it for you."

The rest of the class went relatively quietly and I am pleased to see that most of the students seem to be taking this seriously. There will always be a few exceptions, but that is neither here nor there.

"That will be enough," I bring the lesson to a close with a smile. "I hope you all have something to chew on for a while. I am sure you are all looking forward to the feast this afternoon, but you still have one more lesson to go."

There's the expected excited chatter as they all troop out of the door. I catch the words Deathday Party from somewhere, but don't pay it much heed. After all, I muse as I wait for the next class to arrive, when given the choice between a feast for kings and hanging around with ghosts, I know which most students would choose. It isn't until I sit at my place at the head table, surrounded by bats swooping down from the ceiling, fluttering streamers swimming lazily through the air and unbelievably large pumpkins that I realise that four of my charges are missing from the Great Hall.

"Have you seen Potter, Longbottom, Granger or Weasley anywhere?" I ask Filius, who is seated beside me. "I'd have thought the young Weasley boy in particular would have been keen to attend the feast."

"Strangely enough, I actually do think I have a good idea where they have disappeared off to," Filius replies with a glint in his eye. "Somehow or another it would appear that they got suckered into attending Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party for one reason or another. Mister Weasley sounded most aggrieved about it as a matter of fact. He was far less keen than Miss Granger on the educational opportunities and rather more concerned with his stomach."

"Do they serve food at a Deathday Party?" I ask, somewhat fascinated despite myself.

"You know what Minerva, I really haven't got the foggiest. I have never been invited to attend one personally, for which I will consider myself rather grateful if I must say so."

"I suppose I ought to go and rescue them," I stand up slowly, glancing longingly down at my full and as yet untouched plate. "Bathilda will have my guts for garters if she finds out I've been allowing the boy to skip meals. Any idea where it's being held?"

"Dungeons, I believe," Filius remarks through a mouthful of chicken. "Seems the most likely place, anyway."

Just what I need, I think glumly. Leaving the warmth and atmosphere of the Great Hall to go traipsing through cold, dank tunnels to find a party of ghosts and four wayward and likely very hungry teenagers. My thoughts drift back to the matter of Sirius Black as I walk, as they so often do recently. I attempted to visit him at St Mungo's shortly after my conversation with Remus, but the healer in charge was clear that he was having a particularly bad day and that further stress would simply cause to upset the man unduly. This does not fill me with great confidence.

Severus was right, mind you. Black must have a team of some of the most renowned healers of our time. The opportunity to study the effects of prolonged exposure to the dementors has caused huge interest in the medical communities, not just in the UK but internationally as well. I've been collecting various cuttings from newspapers and journals without knowing quite why I started. I pull the latest cutting from Magical Maladies my inner pocket and glance through it once more.

The health and magical implications of prolonged exposure to the magical creature known as the dementor are far from fully understood for a wide variety of reasons. Dementor attacks in the community are exceptionally rare in modern wizarding Britain, and the only known population of the creature serves the prison of Azkaban. One must be aware that differentiating the effects of the dementor from the natural psychosis and mania of the average inhabitant of Azkaban is no small task. It is however reasonable to assume that, given the control these creatures impose on the once magically powerful witches and wizards incarcerated there, that any dementor exposure will have a significant detrimental impact on health and magic alike.

And on it goes in much the same vein. Effectively, all they are saying – and using a whole lot of words to do so – is that they really don't know what the effects are. Black is therefore almost a medical celebrity. I pocket the item as I get closer to the dungeons and hear the sounds of what must be a hundred thousand fingernails on a blackboard of doom. I've been hesitant with how much information I have shared with the Potter boy regarding his godfather, keeping it as vague as possible. It is possible that Black will never regain his full faculties and I don't want to set the boy up for a disappointment. Even if the man does recover, nobody knows how long it will take or how the experience will impact on his personality.

"Ah, Professor," I am greeted at the door by Nearly Headless Nick himself, surrounded by black velvet drapes, his voice raised above the sound of musical saws. Behind him is the surreal sight of hundreds of translucent white forms floating around a dance floor or crowded around a table of what smells to be repulsively spoiled meat and fish. My nose baulks at it even from a distance. "Welcome, welcome… I wasn't expecting…"

"I've come to locate a quartet of my students, I'm afraid Nick," I say brusquely, trying very hard not to breathe too deeply. "They are missing the festivities and their meal. I don't think they can eat anything on that table, I'm sure you'd agree."

"Oh, but we've only just got started. I haven't even given my speech yet…"

"I'm sure it will be well received," I say without thinking, already scanning the room to find my missing students. I spot them in a corner of the room, looking as out of place in this ghostly crowd as I feel. "There they are!"

I'm halfway across the room, followed by a plaintive sounding Nick, when a dozen ghost horses and a dozen ghost men come bursting through the wall and gallop into the middle of the dance floor. I take advantage of my ghostly companion's distraction to scoot over to the small group who look torn between relief and horror to see me.

"If you would like to follow me, I have made your excuses for this evening," I announce as I swoop down on them, smiling at the sigh of relief the Weasley boy gives, even as he ignores the glare his bushy haired friend shoots him. "You must be starving. If we hurry, you'll make it back to the feast in plenty of time."

"Thanks, Professor," the red haired boy says with a cheeky grin. "You're a lifesaver, you do know that?"

"I've been called many things over the years, Mister Weasley, but that may well be a first." I reply, a small smile curving my lips. "Come on then. I haven't got all day. Try not to walk through anybody if you can."

We're about halfway back to the Great Hall when the Potter boy suddenly stumbles to a half, stopping short in the middle of the hallway, as all colour leaves his still angular face. Fear fills those bright green eyes as he glances frantically around him, looking for something only he can see.

"Mister Potter?" I inquire carefully, stepping closer to the boy. "Are you quite all –"

"Hush!" His tone is short, sharp and strangely urgent. I'd normally rebuke a student for being so disrespectful, but something in his expression stops me short. "Listen! You must be able to hear it!"

"Hear what, Mister Potter?" I reply, with growing concern over the child's health and wellbeing. Hearing voices is serious. I start to usher gently him towards the doorway, in the direction of the Hospital Wing, just in case but he refuses to move, standing as though frozen, now looking up towards the ceiling.

"It's moving. It's getting further away…" He looks up and suddenly bolts towards the stairs, towards the Entrance Hall. I meet Miss Granger's gaze but she seems just as perplexed and concerned as I do. The boys are no more help, with Longbottom shrugging before starting to follow his fast disappearing friend. "This way!"

I stumble into a run, following in the tracks of the boy as he sprints up the marble staircase, heading up towards the first floor of the castle.

"Harry, what is –" Miss Granger's voice cuts across the quiet of the hall.

"Be quiet!" The boy snaps, not even looking at his friend, instead staring searchingly around the area. Without any warning his voice rises into a panicked shout. "It's going to kill someone!"

With that cry, he's off again, this time hurtling up the next set of stairs, taking three steps at a time. Gaining the top of the stairs, he breaks into a sprint and I struggle to keep up as we charge around the entirety of the second floor. My knees are not made for this kind of exercise.

"Harry, what the hell is going on!?" Rom snaps, wiping sweat off his face and looking just as dishevelled as I feel having taken such an impromptu race around the castle. I know that I need to get the Potter boy to Poppy urgently. Whatever he's hearing, the voices must be coming from his own head and they are clearly both violent and upsetting. This is way beyond my abilities. "There's nothing –"

Then there's a gasp beside me and I turn to see Miss Granger pointing down the final, deserted corridor.

"Look!" Her voice rises into a fearful squeak on the single syllable.

We all turn towards the corridor uncertainly. Moving closer I can see that there is something shining on the wall ahead of us and after only a few more steps into the darkness, I can make out what it is. Huge letters have been daubed on the wall in blood like paint, spreading across the space of feet, making out words that make my heart stutter in my chest.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Taking another step forward gingerly, I spot what looks to be a bundle of fur hanging from the wall, held up by some spell or rope, it's difficult to tell from a distance. The children realise what it is before I do and the jump backwards, the Weasley boy stumbling over his feet in the process.

"It's only bloody Mrs Norris!" the red head hisses in horror.

I step forward into the gloom, reaching out a hand to untie the poor creature or release it from whatever enchantment is holding it. I expect to be clawed for my trouble, but the creature doesn't stir, instead hanging limply from what I now realise is a torch bracket. The light skitters unevenly across the wooden boards of the floor and I realise with a start of horror that Filch's cat isn't going to be moving again. It's eyes stare blankly down and as my hand finally makes contact with the thing, I shudder at the realisation that it's still warm. We must have missed whatever killed it by a hair's breadth. Whatever attacked it hasn't left a hair out of place, it could look as though it's merely sleeping if you didn't know better. But there is no life left in it.

For a long moment, I just stand there, looking dumbly at the creature. It takes effort to make my arm move and to mutter the incantation that will slowly ease the poor creature down to the ground. With a second wave of my wand I send my Patronus flying towards the Great Hall. Towards Severus. Towards Albus. All thoughts of food are forgotten as Miss Granger kneels beside the small, pitiful body of the creature, reaching out a hand to pet it awkwardly. Even the boys look unnerved. None of them have any particularly fond feelings towards Filch's pet, but none of them would have wished it dead.

Nobody would. Would they?