Chapter Ten: Stuck Muck

Just seconds later Dumbledore arrived on the scene, followed by a number of the other teachers. It seemed that all of them were curious as to what was going on. Dumbledore billowed past in seconds, fuchsia robes following him, to examine Filch.

Harry, Blaise, and Theo waited in silence, as did the rest of school from their positions (which turned out to be quite a few meters from the scene of the crime).

"Come with me, you three," Dumbledore said gravely before turning away.

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My offices are nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore said.

The crowd parted in silent shock to let them pass. Lockhart (probably feeling excited and important, for once) hurried after Dumbledore. Professors Snape and McGonagall followed not far behind.

There was a flurry of movement at the entrance to Lockhart's office as the many photo-Lockharts fled from sight so no one would see their hair done up in rollers. (At this Blaise snorted slightly.) The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Professor Snape had Levitated Filch into the room and set him near the desk so Dumbledore could continue his inspection of the caretaker away from the entire school.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely a centimeter from Filch's skin, his fingers poking and prodding as he muttered to himself. Professor McGonagall was nearly as close, examining Filch with her eyes silently as opposed to Dumbledore's jabbing and mumbling. Snape loomed behind them, seemingly disinterested, but if Harry looked closely at the shadows concealing Snape's face, he could see that he was trying very hard not to smirk. Lockhart was hovering around making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed him—probably the Transmogrifian Torture—I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter-curse that would have saved him. . . ."

Harry noted that Snape rolled his eyes as Lockhart spouted this.

Dumbledore was now muttering strange words and tapping Filch with his wand. Nothing happened, and Filch remained stiff and frozen.

At last, Dumbledore straightened up.

"He's not dead, Gilderoy," he said softly, interrupting Lockhart's babble about some place called Ouagadogou and stopping his monologue of prevented murders.

There was a look of apprehension on McGonagall's face as her skin went a pallid white. She reached up a hand to cover her mouth as she whispered horrifically, "Petrified . . . ?"

"Yes," answered Dumbledore gravely, suddenly looking much older. "But how and why, I cannot say. He is, after all, a Squib. . . ." He exchanged an unidentifiable look with McGonagall.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows. "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Halloween feast?"

Harry, Blaise, and Theo were stumped. Until—

"I had to use the restroom," Blaise said quickly.

"Oh? And why, by any chance, did you decide to go upstairs instead of to the dungeons?" Snape interrogated.

"The dungeon loos are so cold and dreary. Who'd want to—?"

"That's quite alright, Miss Zabini," Dumbledore said with a slight smile that brought a bit of twinkle back to his bright blue eyes.

"Yeah," Harry continued. "We skipped the feast 'cause we weren't hungry, and none of us like Halloween much. We were walking down that corridor when we saw Filch, just like he is now—frozen."

Snape's smirk was wiped from his face. 'Damn that Potter boy and his alibi.'

Dumbledore was giving Harry and Blaise a searching look. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly, stopping Snape's rant before it had even begun.

"Our only caretaker has been Petrified," Snape whispered furiously with forced calmness. "And yet no punishment is being given?"

"As he said, Severus," McGonagall cut in, "innocent until proven guilty. We will deal out punishment when we have a perpetrator."

"Plus, we will be able to cure him, Severus," Dumbledore added patiently. "Professor Sprout has recently acquired some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have you make a potion to revive him."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done this one a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," Snape said icily, glaring at Lockhart. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

Dumbledore sighed and turned to the trio of students. "You may go."

And so they went, as quickly as they could without actually running or tripping.

As soon as they were a floor down from Lockhart's office Blaise grabbed the two boys and dragged them into an empty classroom.

"Do you think I should've mentioned the voice I heard?" Harry asked the two.

"Snape already knows you've heard it once. He could probably guess."

"No," Theo said immediately. "Hearing voices isn't a good sign, even for wizards."

"You do believe me, don't you?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Of course we do! But it is weird. . . . You're hearing this voice, and no one can hear it but you. 'Course we think it's a snake, so that could explain it, but we might not ever be for sure. You might really be insane," Blaise said, trying to lighten up the mood a bit. "And speaking of which, what's The Chamber Has Been Opened supposed to mean?"

"You know, it sort of rings a bell. I think my grandmother told me a story once about a hidden chamber at Hogwarts. . . ." Theo said slowly.

"And while we're here," Blaise began, "what on Earth's a Squib?"

Theo snorted, then busted out into hysterical laughter.

"Well—it's not funny really—but seeing as how you're probably talking about Filch," he said. "A Squib is someone born into a wizarding family that has no magic. Like the opposite of a Muggleborn, though very rare. It might explain why Filch hates the students. He's bitter."

Somewhere a clock chimed.

"Midnight," Blaise stated with a sigh. "Better get to bed before Snape comes along to frame us for something else."

"Too right are you, Rilla."

"Don't call me Rilla!"

oOoOo

"Damn," Blaise cursed, stomping her foot angrily and earning a glare from Madam Pince. "I still need five more inches."

The duo was in the library with Theo during their lunch break, Blaise finishing her History of Magic essay before their next class. History of Magic, consequentially.

Blaise gave her best puppy-dog eyes to Harry, who was just completing the last touches of his own essay. "Harry?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, Blaise?"

"Can I please borrow your essay?" she pouted.

Harry sighed for the second time in five seconds. "Yes, Blaise, but be careful; the ink's still drying."

"I love you!"

"I know."

Blaise set to complete her last five inches, writing as large as was possible for her to get away with.

"I can't believe it!" Theo whispered furiously as he came from around a bookshelf. "This library has no copies of Hogwarts, A History, and there's a two-week waiting list!"

Blaise's eyes glazed over a bit. "Why do you want it?"

"For the same reason everyone else wants it. If there's anything written about the Chamber of Secrets, it should be in Hogwarts, A History."

"I think I remember something about a secret chamber in there," Harry said, tapping his quill against his chin thoughtfully.

"Do you have a copy?" asked Theo hopefully.

"Yes, but it's hidden in the bottom of my trunk. It would take years to find it."

Theo shuddered as he thought of that mental image and groaned, putting his head in his hands on the table.

"Hey, that's my drying essay!"

He sat up quickly and looked as his arms, which were now covered in letter-shaped black markings. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"I can't believe it!" Hermione complained as she came up to their table. "This library has no copies of Hogwarts, A History, and there's a two-week waiting list!"

The three Slytherins before her looked at her in shock.

"Wow. . . ." Harry breathed.

"That's exactly what Theo just said. . . ." Blaise continued.

Hermione and Theo blushed and Blaise and Harry grinned evilly.

"I think you guys are hanging out a bit too much," Blaise said, going back to her essay to copy down the last two inches.

"Naw, you think?" Harry whispered sarcastically.

"I heard that," Theo and Hermione said together.

Harry and Blaise snickered.

Hermione cleared her throat as she glared. "Anyway, I was wondering if you had a copy, Harry?" She looked at him hopefully.

"I do, but have fun looking for it in my trunk."

Hermione's face brightened and then turned disgusted as she imagined the same image Theo had. "Well, I would have brought mine, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books." She sat down at their table heavily.

Blaise had just finished her last inch and was staring into space, chewing her lip as she thought. "There is one way to learn about the Chamber. . . ."

The other three looked up, interested.

Blaise turned to Hermione. "If you agree to ask Professor McGonagall to tell us about the Chamber tomorrow, we'll help you solve the mystery of whom or what is doing this. Deal?"

Hermione considered it. It was a win-win situation, and either way it would help them solve the mystery, so she had no reason to refuse.

"Deal."

oOoOo

The next day, after Potions, Harry and Blaise walked quickly to the Transfiguration classroom, eager to hear about the Chamber of Secrets.

If Hermione kept her end of the deal.

They entered the room and spotted Hermione in her usual seat at the front of the room. She gave them an almost imperceptible nod. Nodding back the affirmative, they walked to their own seats near the middle of the room and were soon joined by Theo.

The lesson started and they were set to transfigure pumice rocks into spare quills; Hermione still hadn't asked. Just as Harry and Blaise were considering asking the woman themselves, Hermione raised her hand.

"Miss Granger?"

"Professor, I was wondering if you could tell us . . . about the Chamber of Secrets?"

McGonagall sighed, as if she had anticipated that question, but wasn't quite ready for it. She looked around at the students, who were all eyeing her closely for a reaction, and sighed again.

"As you all know, Hogwarts was founded approximately a thousand years ago—the precise date is uncertain—by four of the most powerful witches and wizards of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin.

"The founders worked in harmony for many years, gathering young ones who showed potential and teaching them all they knew. But Slytherin wished to be more . . . selective . . . about the students. He felt that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families—purebloods. Eventually, Slytherin and Gryffindor formed a rift and Slytherin left the school.

"That's what historical sources tell us. However, there is word that Slytherin kept a hidden Chamber within the school, which the other founders didn't know of, and when he left, it sealed itself. Only descendents of Slytherin himself would be able to open the Chamber and unleash the horror within. The school has been searched many times, and naturally, no such Chamber has been found."

"Always knew Slytherin was a crazy old loony," Weasley muttered from his seat beside Hermione.

"Hush, Ron," scolded Hermione.

"That's quite alright, Mr. Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek."

Blaise raised her hand. "Professor, what do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"It is said that the Chamber holds a monster that only the Heir of Slytherin can control."

Hermione asked the next question. "But, Professor, what kind of monster would Slytherin—and only Slytherin—be able to control?"

"All we know is that it is a monster by legend, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

oOoOo

"You have to admit," said Blaise quietly as they exited Transfiguration to go to dinner, "Even though we are Slytherins, Salazar Slytherin sounded like a twisted bat."

"Yes, according to that story. There's bias, Blaise, I could hear it. I don't think Slytherin was evil. His ideas were certainly wrong, but his beliefs don't make him evil."

Blaise nodded. "True."

They entered the Great Hall to see Mandy and Hermione sitting down at the Ravenclaw table. "Harry! Blaise!" Mandy called out as she waved them over. When they got there and sat down, she continued. "I hear that you two and Hermione got McGonagall to talk about the Chamber?"

Harry quickly repeated to Mandy all they had heard, and Mandy was pasty-faced when he was done.

"But what could this mysterious monster be?" she asked.

Harry and Blaise glanced at each other. "We have an idea. . . ." Blaise started.

Hermione looked up sharply from her shepherd's pie. "You do?"

"We think it may be a snake, probably a large one," Harry stated.

Hermione's fork dropped onto her plate with a clatter. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent! Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth!"

"A what?"

"Parseltongue—snake language. Slytherin was famous for it, and it's a dominant trait in genetics. He would have passed it on to each of his ancestors."

Harry paled and pushed his plate away; suddenly he wasn't so hungry. What if he was the one who had done that to Filch and just couldn't remember it?

"Harry? Are you alright?" Mandy asked uncertainly.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go back to the common room." Blaise stood, pulling Harry with her.

"Hope you feel better," Hermione called as they left the Great Hall.

Harry allowed himself to be pulled along, but when he noticed they were heading in the opposite direction of the dungeons, he stopped.

"Where are we going?"

Blaise looked back, appalled. "Exploring, of course! I'm not having people accusing you of doing that, unknowingly, obviously, without conducting a thorough investigation of the crime scene."

"Oh."

They kept walking until they reached the corridor on the second floor where Filch had been Petrified. The writing was still on the wall where Professor Flitwick had been unable to charm it off. Otherwise the corridor seemed to be quite normal.

'Seemed to be.'

Blaise dropped her bag and crawled around on her hands and knees to search for clues. "Scorch marks! Here—and here!"

"Hey, Blaise?" Harry called from where he had been standing at the start of the corridor, by the window. "You might wanna come look at this. . . ."

Scuttling along the pane of the tall window was a row of spiders quickly making their way up a dangling silver thread. Harry had never minded spiders, as they were the only company he had had in the cupboard, and they had always been getting in his socks and his hair. However, he had never seen any spiders act like this.

"Why d'you think they're doing that? It's almost like they're running away. . . ."

"Dunno."

Blaise nibbled her bottom lip before continued her search, crawling over to where Filch had been when he was Petrified. "The water was all along here, but it had to come from somewhere. The question is, where?"

Harry took a quick look around the corridor, and then he found a bathroom with an OUT OF ORDER sign on the door. His hand was touching the doorknob and ready to turn it when he stopped. "Can't go in there. That's a girls' loo."

Blaise rolled her eyes as she opened the door. "Relax, Harry, that's just Moaning Myrtle's toilet."

Harry paled.

Blaise nodded. "Yep, that Moaning Myrtle."

"There's another one?" Harry squeaked, and, to his horror, made Blaise grin wickedly.

"No."

"Oh, thank God."

She entered the OUT OF ORDER bathroom, Harry following warily behind her. The room wasn't in the best of conditions, its sinks grimy and stall doors hanging from their hinges.

Blaise walked over to one of the dilapidated stalls and rapped lightly on the door. "Myrtle?" she called, and stood back.

The door swung open with a creak of its rusted hinges to reveal the moping ghost girl from Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party.

"What?" Myrtle asked sulkily. Her gaze flicked over to Harry. "What's he doing here? You're not a girl, are you?"

Harry flinched. "No, I'm not. I assure you, I have a—"

"Shut up, Harry," Blaise ordered, elbowing him hard in the ribs as she went red.

"Sorry."

"Anyway . . . Myrtle, we were wondering if you saw anything . . . odd . . . on the night of Nick's deathday party."

"If you're asking, no, I didn't," Myrtle sniffed. "But there was this strange rumbling in the pipes."

"Hogwarts has pipes?"

"Of course! How else do I travel around the school? Sometimes people accidentally flush me down the toilet and I end up in the lake."

Both of the humans went slightly green as they got the horrible mental image of Myrtle being flushed down the toilet with . . . other things. . . .

"Did you happen to see or hear anything else?"

"Well, you two are awfully curious! I came back from the party crying over all those horrible things that poltergeist said to me and I flooded the bathroom!" Myrtle wailed, splashing her way back down into her toilet.

"Well . . . that went well." Blaise shuddered.

Harry only grunted and they went to leave the bathroom, coming back into the corridor just as Fred and George walked by.

"Why, are little Harriekins and Blaisiekins—"

"—doing dirty things in bathrooms now?"

Harry and Blaise both went tomato red at the things Fred and George implied. "NO!" they shouted at the same time.

"Oh, well—"

"—we were just joking—"

"—but since you're both in denial—"

"—we'll just shut up now."

And the twins grinned . . . and kept on grinning . . . and grinning. . . .

"So. . . ." Fred started. "We've actually been meaning to talk to you." The four walked away from the corridor together, no destination in mind.

"We were actually wondering if you would like to try out one of our new inventions. We've tried it ourselves, obviously, but we wanted to see what more of the pranking populace seems to think," George continued.

"What is it?" Blaise asked hesitantly.

At her question, Fred dug in his robe pocket and pulled out a plastic package. "Stuck Muck," he said, handing them the package to look over, "You put some on the palms of your hands or the soles of your shoes, or both, and you can stick to walls, ceilings, and other things. You could move if you want but it's a good idea to keep one hand or foot stuck on the surface you're stuck on while you're moving, otherwise you fall."

Harry nodded. "Sounds cool."

"It is, isn't it?" George said pompously.

Blaise nodded as a plot formed in her mind. "It is," she said, staring at nothing in particular. "In fact, it may just help us, Harry. . . ."

oOoOo

"So, let me get this straight," Harry quietly told Blaise in the library after their alk with Fred and George. "We're going to listen in on a conversation with Malfoy and Thing One and Thing Two and see if they know who the Heir is, using Fred and George's invention?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because, if anyone knows who the Heir of Slytherin is, it's the pureblood ponce."

"And we're doing this tonight?"

Blaise almost growled. Almost. "Yes."

Harry bit his lip. "We'll need a way to stay invisible, even if we'll be on the ceiling. We could always use the Disillusionment Charm, I've read about that. It makes a phantasmal outline, but hopefully they won't look up. I'll have to get the charm right, though."

"Well, then, you'd better get to practicing."

oOoOo

"Are we ready?" Blaise asked Harry in the 'comfort' of his dormitory.

"Yeah, hold up." Harry tapped his wand against Blaise's forehead and then his own. The feeling of running eggs dripping down his head made him shiver, but they were now nearly invisible, only a chameleon-like outline visible where they were standing. Harry could see the warped image of the floor through his hands but the image was distorted by the now ghostly definition of his fingers.

They opened the package of Stuck Muck and put large patches on their palms and smaller ones on the tips of their fingers.

Luckily for them Blaise had thought that they might not be able to hear what Malfoy was saying (due to the exceptionally high ceilings in the dungeons), so Harry had already performed temporary Enhanced Hearing charms and the sounds of mice scurrying around were reaching their ears. Another useful spell they had done was a temporary Enhanced Vision charm, so they could see if Malfoy showed Crabbe and Goyle something. It also meant Harry didn't have to wear his glasses, which might fall off when he was hanging upside down.

"So . . . are we ready now?"

"I think. . . . Does Theo know?"

"Yep, he's sitting in the common room pretending to do homework, just in case we need to get out of a bind."

"Okay, good, then we're all set."

They exited the dormitory, trying to open the door as little as possible, and tried to squeeze through a crack about four inches wide. It didn't work.

"Oops. . . ." Blaise muttered as she tried to squeeze through the crack in the door and it creaked open.

"It'll be fine, Blaise, just don't move it back," Harry whispered in her general direction.

"Sorry."

They crept down the hallway and into the common room, immediately spotting Malfoy's blonde head and Thing One and Thing Two's bulky forms. Theo was over by the fire working "dutifully" on his Transfiguration essay, but looking up sharply from time to time.

Harry and Blaise clung to the walls, the Stuck Muck on their hands letting them quickly crawl up and out of general sight. Unless anybody looked up and saw their shapes clinging to the wall. Then they were in deep dragon dung.

Hesitantly, Harry crawled up to the ceiling, feeling more confident when the Stuck Muck held. He spider-walked over to where Malfoy, and One and Two were talking and looked down at them, sharply taking in details as he willed the charms on his ears to work. Gradually it worked until he could hear Malfoy chattering on about something. He vaguely heard Blaise do the same from beside him as he listened in.

"—surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported that attack yet," Malfoy was saying to his IQ-of-two goons. "I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if another one happens, I'll tell you that. Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggleborns. A decent headmaster would've never let trash like Granger in."

Malfoy stopped to look at Crap and Glop in disgust. "Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it would look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing—last time the Chamber was opened, a Mudblood died. So, it's only a matter of time before another is killed. . . . Personally, I hope its Granger," he said with enjoyment.

Harry and Blaise waited in baited breath, and then— "And I wish I knew who it was! I could help them."

The two Stuck Muck-ed Slytherins' jaws dropped in shock. Malfoy didn't know?

But just then, there was a terrible feeling in Harry's gut, and he got the feeling that he was falling in slow motion. And Blaise seemed to be falling with him. . . .

'Oh, no . . .'

Blaise knew they just did not fall into Malfoy's conversation! That was ludicrous! She was so suing the twins with Harry's gold. Then she did the only thing she could in her present situation. . . .

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" she screamed, with vocal cord help from Harry.

"What the—?" Malfoy had time to exclaim before he was bombarded with two phantasmal forces that were running for their lives. The attention of the entire common room was on him, so he did the only thing he could in his present situation. . . .

"Beep you all!" (The first word was censored with reason.)

Theo had given up on the act of doing his Transfiguration homework to burst into guffaws by the fire. Unbeknownst to him, his Transfiguration essay fell into the fire and burned to ash.

Still laughing, he ran up to the dormitory to see what his friends had found out.

oOoOo

Authoress's Note: Yes, Theo and Ginny know Harry is a Parselmouth, which they are thankfully keeping a secret. However, Harry and Blaise didn't know the ability had a name. Mandy and Hermione don't know of his abilities (yet), but the two bookworms served a good purpose in giving them the information.