Author's Note:

My apologies for the delay. I have replied to as many people as I could who asked if I was still writing this and about the Mudblood thing. I hope this clears up the reviews for everyone who thought I forgot what I wrote in the first story! I decided to make this chapter a little shorter so I could get it on-line. I love the reviews and hope to see them coming in but hope this will still the sometimes-unfriendly e-mails I have received about the "mistake" in chapter four. Mistake is in quotes because it wasn't a mistake on my end but an intentional building of Harry's character showing him as forgetful early on; however, a number of readers perceived it as an error.

Please be aware I am taking 6-credit graduate semesters back-to-back and am simply unable to update on any sort of a regular basis. I am also taking numerous steps to take care of several medical issues and possibly relocate to another state. I know you want me to post faster, but I am doing my best!

Hope you enjoy! Love, MysticSong

Chapter Five:

That night in the dorm as Harry relaxed on his bed, the words he had heard earlier filtered back through his consciousness. "Draco?"

"Mmm?"

"What's a mudblood?"

Draco looked up in surprise. "I told you that during first year after Ron and I had to explain it to Hermione; don't you remember?"

A sheepish grin surfaced on Harry's face. "I . . . er. . ."

"I'll take that as a 'no'. Really, Harry, you should pay better attention when I talk to you."

Blaise had stepped into the room at that moment, as he shared the small dorm with Harry and Draco. "Because everything that departs from the Prince of Slytherin's mouth should be written down and passed through the ages!"

"Oh, do shut it, Blaise. I simply meant that because Harry wasn't raised with a wizard family, he should pay attention when people tell him information about our society."

Blaise winked at Harry who grinned. "Alright, then, continue imparting your wisdom on Harry. What'd he forget this time?"

"He wanted to know what mudblood meant," explained Draco, shuddering a bit when he said the word. "I told him last year when Hermione needed to know about the term, but he forgot or wasn't paying attention."

Blaise nodded.

"A mudblood, Harry, is a really foul term for a witch or wizard that is born of Muggle parentage. It means 'dirty blood'. Why the sudden interest in the term? Did you hear someone get called that?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "When we were leaving the dungeons earlier today, I heard this soft voice whisper something about killing mudbloods, but no one else seemed to hear it. I thought maybe it was Peeves."

Draco and Blaise looked at each other and back at Harry. "I don't think it was Peeves, Harry," said Draco finally. "We can check with Professor Snape in the morning, but I don't think Peeves ever talks about killing anyone, just making them nutters."

Harry nodded and settled down into his bed, glad to be going to sleep early. The start of the school year was always stressful, and Dobby's warning in the back of his mind was adding to his anxiety. 'I should ask Draco about the … Dobby,' he mused as his eyes fluttered shut. Soon, the even breathing of the three boys was all that could be heard.

The next morning Harry promptly forgot about the strange voice, as did his dorm mates, due to the hilarity of breakfast in the Great Hall. None of the students were quite sure what had sparked the combative situation between the Head of Slytherin and the Defence professor, but Professor Snape looked irritated enough to kill the oblivious man who chattered away inanely to the Potions professor, obviously trying to convince him of something.

The Slytherin students could tell their Head of House had clearly had enough from Lockhart mere moments into the one-sided discussion, but in an attempt to be civil, he had let the man babble on, as he tried to eat his meal. Then Lockhart made his fatal move and placed a hand on the other man's arm, with what was meant to be an utterly charming smile on his face. Snape wasn't charmed. He rose from his seat so quickly he knocked it over with a loud clatter and glared down his nose at the blond man. "You will kindly remember to keep your hands to yourself from this point forward, Professor Lockhart," Snape seethed, "unless you'd like me to remove them to use as potion ingredients!" With that utterance, he turned, robes flaring out behind him, and strode out of the Great Hall.

Several weeks passed without Harry giving any thought to the mysterious voice until one night as he made his way back to his dorm from the Library. Hermione and Ron were following, Ron discussing the latest game for the Chudley Canons and Hermione talking about their latest assignment with Lockhart. The two voices overwhelmed Harry's senses as they joined as mush in his hears until he heard it.

"Kill . . . so hungry . . . all these years . . . Master . . . kill . . . kill . . . so hungry . . ."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

"Harry? Are you alright?" asked Hermione.

"Don't you hear it?"

"Hear what, Harry?"

"That voice . . ."

Ron and Hermione shared a look. Of course, they didn't know that Harry had heard this before. None of the Slytherins had mentioned it to anyone from sheer forgetfulness.

"You hear a voice, mate?"

Harry nodded. "It's talking about killing. . ." he looked apologetically at Hermione, "all the mudbloods and talking about how hungry it is."

Hermione frowned. "If this is some sort of prank. . ." she started to say until she realized how gray Harry's face appeared. He was obviously worried and she couldn't believe the kind boy would lower himself to tease her in such a manner, and in a rare moment of self-awareness, brought herself up short.

"Where do you hear the voice, Harry?" she went with instead.

"It's in the walls, moving quickly, as if the voice belongs to a huge creature. Do you think we should tell someone?"

"I don't know Harry. Even in the Wizarding world, I doubt it's good to be able to hear voices other people can't."

As they stood there, Draco suddenly rounded the corner with the rest of the group hot on his heels. "Harry! Ron! Hermione! You've got to come see this!" Draco looked quite alarmed, an unusual display of emotions for the reserved Slytherin. Even his exposure to his friends hadn't removed the years of training on how to be a Malfoy.

Curious, the three nodded and moved to follow Draco who immediately turned and raced back the way he had come. Shortly they came to rest, several of them breathing heavily, in a dim hallway full of water.

Hermione raised a brow. "You had us run up here to see that Moaning Myrtle has flooded the hallway from the girls' loo again?"

"Moaning Myrtle?" asked Neville.

"She's a ghost that haunts the loo on this floor," explained Pansy. "When she gets upset, which is quite often, she'll flood the loo and the hallway, so no one comes up here very often. Nevertheless, it isn't what Draco was referring to. Take a look there!"

The three turned to follow her pointing finger to discover Mrs. Norris hanging by her tail from a beam in the ceiling. She was completely stiff.

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Is she dead?"

"Don't think so," said Blaise. "But I'm not positive. She looks petrified to me though."

"Who would petrify Filch's cat and hang her up by the tail?" asked Ron. "I mean, I know pretty much everyone would like to, but who would actually do it?"

Before Blaise could answer, a throng of voices was heard moving their direction. "Drat! Dinner must have let out and we missed it!" exclaimed Ron.

Students came from one direction, professors from another, and the seven were trapped in the middle. Everyone came to a halt at the large pool of water. Even Filch was present and when he heard the splash of water as some students stepped into the pooling, he rushed forward, angry about another mess he would have to clean up until he realized it was completely silent and looked up to see . . .

"Mrs. Norris! Oh my beloved! Who has done such a thing to you?" He turned to see the seven students huddled the closest, and focused on them. "You! You killed my precious! How dare you! I will punish you for this, oh yes; I shall punish you for hurting my precious!"

Scared of the unpredictable man, Harry backed up into Draco who backed up into a solid, unmoving mass. He looked up to see the still form of his Godfather behind him. "We didn't do it, sir," he whispered. A twitch of the lips was all the response Severus gave but to Draco, it was enough.

Albus then stepped forward. "Argus!" The caretaker looked up in surprise at the volume in the Headmaster's voice. "Your cat is not dead, simply petrified. I highly doubt any of these students had anything to do with Mrs. Norris, as it would take a level of magic beyond their years for this sort of petrifaction. This is not just a simple spell; she will need to be treated with a cure made from Mandrakes, and Professor Sprout has just recently told me that she has a fine crop growing. It may take several weeks but your Mrs. Norris will be restored." With that, he raised his wand, with a silent spell, released the cat, and guided her down to Filch so that he could take her back to his office for safekeeping.

After Filch left and the students had been sent back to their dormitories, aside from Harry and his friends whom had been detained by Snape, watched as the Headmaster cast Finite Incatum to force the flooding to stop before he vanished the collecting water. As the flowing stilled, however, words, in an eerie shade of red – almost that of blood – came to life on the stone wall opposite the bathroom.

The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened . . .

Enem….Hei…

Beware . . . beware . . . bewa….

The writing was smeared at several points, before moving erratically to the right, while still dribbling down the wall as if the writer had been frightened away before completing their task.

There was no twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes and Snape's face was perhaps blanker than usual for a moment as he and Albus pondered the meaning of the words . . . and who the culprit really was.