AN: I wasn't expecting to update today, but that's what happens when you get snowed in. I'm insanely surprised by the amount of response this fic has gotten. My one month anniversary is tomorrow, and I already have 597 followers and 349 favorites. And of course I can't forget my lovely reviewers who have helped me so much: phoebe turner, , Spring Raine, Majerus, B00kw0rm92, Cateagle, grlt, Tamira, posieden'sdaughter, MariusDarkwolf, serialkeller, RRW, shopaholic1369, Lightningblade49, serenityselena, Yana5, red-jacobson, Beth5572, Makurayami Ookami, and anthony37. The poll will be up for a little while longer, but see if you can catch some of them in this chapter. Some were subtle, some not so much.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.
"What did you do?" Percy hissed.
"Nothing! I mean, I didn't actually get into any fights," Oliver said guiltily.
"But what else did you do?" Percy pressed.
"Well, Davies and I may have had a slight disagreement, but I swear I didn't hex him or punch him or anything!" He shook his head frantically.
"So you're learning how to control your temper?" Percy asked skeptically.
"I wouldn't go that far. More like Burbage saw us shouting and broke it up," Oliver mumbled. "But it didn't seem like she was going to tell."
"She might not have, but Davies probably did," Percy said grimly.
"This wouldn't have happened if bloody Scott hadn't tricked me. I just thought that since he was a Hufflepuff, he wouldn't do anything serious!"
"Why would you assume something like that?" Percy groaned. "Now look what's happened!"
"What I wanna know is, why does McGonagall want to see you?" Oliver wondered, confused.
"Guess we'll find out," He shrugged. "Transformations," He said to the gargoyle, a sick feeling in his stomach as he climbed the stairs.
I knew it, Oliver thought victoriously as he saw Flitwick standing by McGonagall's desk. But where was Davies? Oliver was sure the awful git would want to be here to gloat over them.
Both McGonagall and Flitwick remained serious as Oliver and Percy took a seat. Oliver felt his heart sink. They can't possibly believe Davies, can they?
"Wood, Weasley," McGonagall began quietly, eyes fixed on a cat figurine on her desk. "Recently, you came to Professor Flitwick about a boy named Tom Riddle. Is this true?"
Percy nodded.
"Now, Hagrid was convicted of opening the Chamber of Secrets and killing Myrtle Henderson in 1943. Yet you say you have evidence to the contrary?"
"Yes," Percy drew out the word slowly.
"Why do you think that Tom Riddle is the true perpetrator, and that Rubeus Hagrid was framed of both charges?"
Oliver was getting tired of being politically and lawfully correct about it all. "Look professor, we know that Tom Riddle is Voldemort." Professor Flitwick squeaked but the others ignored him. "We know that he's Slytherin's heir, which means that he'd probably know where the Chamber of Secrets is and how to open it. We also know that Hagrid is probably the least likely person to want to unleash a monster that would kill a ton of muggleborns."
"Mr. Wood, while I admire the fact that you obviously put a lot of time and research into your theory, it most likely won't stand up in court," She told them severely.
But Oliver was ready. "Hagrid had an Acromantula as a pet, right? And that's what everyone thought was Slytherin's monster. But it isn't. Slytherin's monster is a Basilisk, and we know where it is." And with that, he leaned back in the stiff armchair with a smug look.
"Isn't this where we're allowed to ask for legal counsel?" Percy intervened, trying to keep Oliver from saying anything else incriminating. McGonagall motioned towards Flitwick. He pushed a small button on a recorder that Oliver hadn't noticed during his big reveal. McGonagall took a steadying breath.
"That was an official recording for the Ministry," She whispered in a strangled voice. "We are required to record an official statement by anyone who questions the events of the Chamber. Of course, now we'll have to re-record it, as there's some very sensitive information on there."
"Why can't you send it in? Let the whole world know that Voldemort's a total hypocrite!" Oliver raged.
"Do you hear yourself?" Percy asked incredulously. "Think of the possible ramifications. It might start another war, by some pureblood Death Eater who swears he can do what Riddle couldn't! It'd be insane."
"10 points to Gryffindor for logical thinking," Flitwick said weakly.
"How did you know about the Chamber?" McGonagall asked suddenly. "And about Tom Riddle? And where is the Basilisk?"
"Are you sure we can't still get that legal representation?" Oliver muttered to Percy.
Percy shook his head. "Hermione got the stuff about the Chamber from a book. One that she bought with her own money, so you can't take it away from her," He added quickly.
McGonagall and Flitwick gave him affronted looks. "We would never do such a thing, Mr. Weasley," Flitwick said stiffly.
"Right," Percy said. "Anyway, the stuff about Tom Riddle was pretty easy to find, and of course Professor Flitwick gave us a little more information."
"Are you sure it didn't come from any other source?" Flitwick pried.
Oliver narrowed his eyes. "We didn't ask Hagrid-well, okay, we did, but he wouldn't answer any of our questions, if that's what you want to know."
"And the Basilisk?" McGonagall steamrolled on ahead.
Percy winced. "That's the part we'd need a lawyer for. Our source wouldn't be too happy if we released their names."
"Can you tell us where it is?" Flitwick asked hopefully.
Oliver scratched his head. "Yeah, I think that'd be okay. So across from Myrtle's bathroom is this tapestry of a unicorn. Push that back, and then there's this little cave. One brick in the cave should stick out from all the rest, and if you push that in, it will open up a tunnel. You follow the tunnel to the very end. It's just a peephole to see inside though, not the actual entrance."
"That should be enough. Imagine, a real Basilisk. One hasn't been spotted in Scotland in over 400 years." Flitwick foamed at the mouth, dreaming of the possibilities.
"Filius," McGonagall reprimanded him. "No one can know, remember? This has to be kept secret. I don't want to even think of what would happen if parents found out that a Basilisk has been in this school for so long."
Oliver made a noise, part growl and part squeak, which startled McGonagall and Flitwick.
"Wood," The Headmistress started lowly. "Who knows about that Basilisk?"
"Er, well, you see-" He stammered.
"We can't tell you," Percy interrupted smoothly. "It would compromise our source."
She glared. "How many?"
"Well, including us, eleven."
McGonagall began taking deep breaths to calm down. "Alright, eleven, that's not so bad." Percy wondered who she was trying to convince, them or her. "You know that you must keep quiet about this? Don't tell anyone, anyone, about our conversation. We will sort this out. You are dismissed."
"What?"
"No!" Both boys sputtered at the woman. "You can't do this!"
"We want to help!"
"You are sixteen," She barked at them. "I will not allow two teenagers to go up against a deadly beast. You could at best be petrified, at worst dead!"
"Seriously?" Oliver gaped.
"We could help!" Percy insisted.
Her nostrils flared. "And what do two sixth years know that several highly trained witches and wizards don't?" The boys stayed silent.
"I'm sorry if I care more for the safety of my students than for fulfilling their sense of adventure. Thank you for bring this to my attention, but I'm afraid it's time for us adults to be adults."
Aurora Sinistra wrinkled her nose as the stench of mold filled the air. She, Minerva, Filius, Pomona, Septima, and Charity were on their way to destroy the Basilisk. Severus and Lockhart hadn't been informed of this venture purely because Minerva believed they would hinder the mission. Aurora wasn't altogether sure why six people were needed to kill a Basilisk. Only one person could perform the charm, and having the others there just meant that more people could die.
What truly bugged Aurora was the fact that Minerva refused to say who had told her about the Basilisk in the first place. Although, Filius seemed to know, which implied that it was a Ravenclaw.
Aurora had been a Claw herself, back in school. All of the others had found her love of Astronomy odd. Ravenclaws generally stuck to books and theory, rather than practical application. But the stars were something that had to be witnessed to truly understand. To Aurora, they were both beautiful and unreachable. Wizards could claim that they knew everything on earth, but the starts held a powerful aura of mystery.
She had realized early on that very few careers required Astronomy, and those that did were typically phony. But lucky for her, the Astronomy professor at Hogwarts retired just as she began to run out of temporary jobs. Dumbledore had hired her on the spot, probably because no one else applied. Hogwarts in general seemed to have a hard time receiving competent applicants, which was how they landed Lockhart and was the precise reason more teachers needed to stay safe.
After all, she thought glumly, we're already down a Transfiguration professor.
"Here it is!" Charity whispered excitedly.
A small peephole was the only thing at the end of the tunnel, unless you counted the hairy, dead spider.
"Who's going to do it?" Septima asked.
"Don't look at me, I just deal with plants," Pomona took a step back.
"I don't use a whole lot of magic anymore. I'm trying to imagine how muggles live," Charity explained.
"I don't think I'd be capable of doing this," Aurora denied.
"Arithmancy is just numbers, really. I'm not too sure I could handle this either," Septima said.
"Oh honestly! Isn't it obvious who will do it?" McGonagall declared. Everyone was relieved. Of course, the Headmistress would take care of things! "Filius, you're the one with a Charms mastery, you do it," She ordered sternly.
The tiny man gulped and slowly walked toward the peephole. "What if it looks at me?" He moaned pitifully.
"Just get on with it," Septima urged him.
Filius conjured up a little stool to stand on and cringed. Carefully, he put his eye up to it and saw a huge scale, green and shiny. He forgot to breathe for a moment.
"Come on," He murmured and shook himself. He concentrated firmly on the Basilisk and whispered a spell. He hadn't slept for 36 hours, trying to find something just right. He had come across an ancient curse that could shut down any living thing (beast or being)'s internal organs for 100 years. Minerva agreed to put the instructions in the Headmaster's log for whatever poor, unlucky soul had to deal with it. Virtually nothing could revive the Basilisk, which meant the school would be safe from another Chamber incident.
"It's done," He announced, and the six professors scurried back to their offices.
Harry had never been to a death day part before, and if they were all like Sir Nicholas's, Harry didn't want to go to another. The music was played by an orchestra composed of thirty saws. A very large amount of ghosts stood around, including The Fat Friar, The Grey Lady, and The Bloody Baron.
"Peeves!" The twins roared upon seeing the poltergeist headed for them. "How you been, old pal?"
"Great!" The little man whooped. "I've been teasing Myrtle, causing a ruckus, and annoying old Filchie!"
"Hey Peeves," Fred called eagerly. "Did you know that Filch is a-"
A hand was slapped across his mouth. "A little upset at you? Not a whole lot, though. I think he's starting to relax," Alicia lied as she dragged Fred away. "What do you think you're doing?" She hissed.
"I was just gonna tell Peeves that Filch is a squib, s'all."
"Why would you do that?" Alicia asked angrily.
"Because it's funny," Fred replied matter-of-factly.
"No it's not! Those pranks you play with George and Lee? That's funny. Making fun of someone who doesn't have magic? That's just sick and cruel," She proclaimed.
"I don't see Angelina nagging George," Fred grumbled jealously.
"That's because George isn't an insensitive jerk like you, Fred Weasley!" She shrieked and left him alone, feeling as though he'd gotten punched in the gut.
Lee, Katie, and Cormac were trying to make their way across the dance floor without walking through a ghost, a nearly impossible feat. They were almost halfway when a screech of "Lee!" caused the boy to slide through a knight. He shuddered with cold, turned to find Moaning Myrtle, and shuddered with a little something else.
"Hello," She cooed flirtatiously as she glided towards him. "Lovely to see you here. You know the Headless Hunt is supposed to perform?"
"Yeah, I heard that. Listen Myrtle, I'm kind of in the middle of something," He tried to dodge her.
"I'm sure it can wait a little bit," Myrtle said coyly as she blocked his path. For a moment Lee thought about just walking right through her, but he figured that would be considered rude.
"You two can go ahead," She called over her shoulder to Katie and Cormac. "This is gonna take a while."
"So, Katie," Cormac began awkwardly as they kept moving. "What do-"
"Hey McLaggen," Oliver appeared, breathless, just as Cormac was about to ask her. "Your sister wants to talk to you."
He nodded sulkily. "See you Katie."
"What was that about?" Oliver asked quizzically.
"He was just being friendly," Katie defended him.
"A little too friendly," Oliver said under his breath.
"What?"
"Wanna get some food?" Oliver quickly changed the subject. Colin stood by the buffet, taking pictures of both rotting food and dead guests.
"Hey guys!" He burst out ecstatically. "Guess what? It turns out that ghosts do show up on camera!"
A nearby group of nuns heard him and were very…vocal about their anger. Colin shrunk back in fear, but Katie and Oliver just glared.
Suddenly, the whole party went quiet and the orchestra stopped playing.
"It's time!" Oliver whispered frantically. Katie pulled Colin over to Nick.
"Ready Demelza?" She murmured. The young girl nodded. They couldn't forget why they were there: to help Sir Nicholas.
The Headless Hunt came galloping in, tossing each other's heads back and forth. The leader, who Katie assumed was Sir Patrick, stopped directly in front of them and put his head back on.
"Lovely little party you've got going," He said. "Even got a big group of live ones here! Guarantee they've never seen anything like the Headless Hunt, eh?"
"Actually sir," Demelza said strongly, stepping forward. "Muggles have shown things like that for years."
"What?" Sir Patrick jumped back in fake shock, his head falling off. The Gryffindors were neither amused nor afraid.
"Oh yes," Hermione nodded vigorously. "The Headless Horseman, for instance."
"Well," He huffed. "Those muggles think of everything, don't they?"
"Not really," Colin said. "They've never invented anything too gruesome." He glanced fearfully at Sir Nicholas.
Nick grinned and swung his head off his scruff. Everyone grimaced, gasped, and looked away. Everyone except little Demelza, who screamed loudly. Nick carefully reset his head and took a peek at Sir Patrick.
"Well, Patrick," He began gloomily. "I guess scaring just isn't what it used to be, is it?" He floated away, Sir Patrick quickly following.
"Nicholas, old chum, listen-"
"Good job," Angelina praised Demelza.
"Yeah, the scream was really real…sounding," Lee finished lamely.
Demelza beamed and moved to cut a piece of cake.
"Ugh!" She gagged. Click! "Colin!"
"Hey, do you think Nick will let me take a picture of him without his head?" Colin wondered.
"Who cares? I'm starving," Ron complained.
"Alright, I think we've stayed long enough. Let's go," Percy agreed and lead them to the Great Hall. They were almost there, just passing Myrtle's bathroom when Harry heard it.
…rip…tear…KILL!