(Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm back with a new chapter so I will gladly announce that Sophie Lestrange and the chamber of secrets is back after a two-month hiatus. Originally, the plan was to have one week off and continue the story in a effort to have it finished by early September at the latest, and start on the third book by late September. But I got side-tracked with work and other things and completely forgotten all about it. So now, let's get back into it. Now I hope to have this done by the end of November, if not, midway through December at the latest. As Before I don't own Harry Potter, Enjoy.)
Last time: The Chamber of secrets has been opened. Mr Filch's cat has been Petrified. Students and Teachers are scared. Now, Sophie, Harry, Ron, Hermione want to find out who the Chamber of Secrets. They suspect it's Malfoy, due to his family line being very loyal Slytherins. What does he know? What is he hiding? Who did open the Chamber of Secrets.
Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class, god, I still have Nightmares about that. Instead, re read passages from his books to them, and sometimes re-enacted some of the more dramatic bits. He would usually bring Harry out to the front of the class to help him with these reconstructions. So far, he had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a babbling Curse, a yeti with a hand cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him. I'll definitely say that Harry is not a great actor although he has been given some crap roles. Harry was hauled out to the front of the class during our very next Defence against the dark arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. I'm trying my best to hold a laugh in but you know, that's quite hard.
"Nice loud howl, Harry – exactly – and then; if you believe it, I pounced – like this – slammed him to the floor – thus – with one hand, I managed to hold him down – with my other, I put my wand to his throat – I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm – he let out a piteous moan – go on, Harry – higher than that – good – the fur vanished – the fangs shrank – and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective – and another village will remember me as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks." The bang rang and Lockhart got to his feet. "Homework: compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga werewolf! Singed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!" Me, Ron and Hermione went to the back of the classroom and we waited foe Harry.
"The way it's going, I'll will be passing the final exam for this class flying colours. Compose a poem, great, another reading session tonight." I said.
"You read Lockhart's books?" Ron asked in shock.
"It's either that or you will never hear the end of it from him."
"Oh, come on, guys. It can't be that bad." Hermione said to us.
"Says you." Ron said. Harry then decided to join us the back of the classroom, still embarrassed from recent showing.
"You guys ready?" He asked
"yep." I said. "Hermione, you know what you need to do."
"I don't think I can do it." She said.
"Why?" Harry said.
"I'm worried that I will be..."
"Starstruck?" I asked. "Alright, someone will have to go with her." At this point, both Harry and Ron's eyes looked straight towards me. "No!"
"You are her friend." Harry said.
"I won't go near him. Wait." I bended down to look in my bag for something that might help this situation. "Ha, found it." I pulled out some straws from my bag. "Hermione, your hand please."
"Straws?" Ron asked. "How does that help?"
"Muggles used this as a problem-solving solution." I said as I fixed the straws up in Hermione's hand. "Here we are. Obviously, there are three straws here. We simply just pulled them out, the person with the shortest straw goes with Hermione ." This idea sounded much better in my head. We all, slowly, pulled out one straw out of Hermione's hand and annoying, I got the shortest straw. "Oh crap"
"Come on." Hermione said as she grab my arm and pulled me to the front of the classroom. We approached Lockhart's desk, with the piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand.
"Er–Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to – to get this book out of the Library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece od paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the of the Library, so I need a teacher to sign for it – I'm Sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms..."
"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" Said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favourite book. You enjoyed it?"
"Oh Yes," Said Hermione eagerly. 'So clever, the way you trapped the last one with the tea-strainer..."
"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best students in the year a little extra help." Said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill and then scrawled a enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione and she folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "So, with that sorted, ah, Harry, Sophie, can I have a word with you two? No trouble, just a friendly chat."
"Oh god." I mumbled.
"Go. We'll meet you there." Harry said to them. They waved us goodbye as they left the room.
"So, tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season I Believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not?" He asked, looking at Harry.
"Yep" I answered but Lockhart acted like I wasn't there.
"Harry, I hear you're a useful player. I was a seeker, too. I was asked to try for the national Squad, but I preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players..."
"Thanks for the offer, Professor, but I think Harry will be 'just fine'." I said as me and Harry left the room and went off to catch up with Hermione and Ron.
"Out of all the people in this castle, why did he had to choose me?" Harry said out loud.
"Why?" I asked. "Because you are the Boy-Who-Lived. He sees as another way to gain more fame. Once he's finished here, he'll go around telling that he's friends with you."
"I hate him." Said Harry with a bit of anger in his voice.
"You're not the only one. Now, let's go and catch up with Ron and Lockart's girlfriend." I said.
"You do realise that she hates it when you say that?" Harry said as he let out a little laugh.
"Not by the puppy dog eyes she give him along with every other girl in this school" I said as I started making air kisses.
"Why aren't you?" Harry Said.
"Huh?" I asked
"Don't you like him, Lockhart?"
"I've never heard of the bloke. My cousin mentioned before the start of the year and the first time I've met him was at the book signing."
"So you really don't know much about magic, do you?" The question stop me dead in my tracks. Harry looked back at me with concern on his face.
"I've been under the impression that I live the life of a muggle, always being told that your parents died after I was born. Being bullied because I was a freak, an outcast. Only for the big truth to come out." I answered.
"What truth?" He asked.
"My parents are actually in Azkaban. For supporting and serving under the dark lord. I was told this last year by Dumbledore. They were told I was killed in a muggle fire to keep me safe, change my name. So I was being kept as a secret. And a dangerous one at that. My parents don't even think they know that I'm alive." I felt a couple of tears fall down my face. It has been tough without my parents. Even though I'm in a happy place right now, I still wonder what it could have been. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and Harry hugged me and I returned the favour.
"So, Voldemort took our parents away from both of us." Harry said. "Yours are in prison and mine are..."
"...Dead." I finished for him.
"Yeah." He said. We continued on our journey to the Library, in complete silence. Coming out like that was something that we both don't do very often. But we did agreed on one thing, Voldemort destroyed our live by taking away the thing that any children would cherish. We reached the Library where Hermione and Ron was waiting for us outside. Finally back together as a group, we entered the Library to collect our mystery book. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture.
"Moste Potente Potions?" She repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione, but Hermione wouldn't let go.
"I was wondering if I could keep it." She said breathlessly.
"What?" I asked.
"Oh come on," Said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince. "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough." Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a rather large and mouldy-looking book. Hermione carefully into her bag and we left. Five minutes later, we entered the Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom. Her cries echoed through the room but we ignored her. Hermione opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and the four of us bent over the damp spotted page. It's clear why it belonged in the restricted section. Some of these potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there was some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a men who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head.
"Here it is!" Hermione said exciting, as she found the page headed 'The Polyjuice Potion'. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. God only knows what that must feel like.
"This is it?" I asked her.
"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen." Said Hermione, as we continue to scan the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed and knotgrass." Shee murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves. Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn – don't know where we're going to get that... Shredded skin of a Boomslang – that'll be tricky, too – and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into."
"Excuse me?" Ron said. "What d'you mean, a bit whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it.." But Hermione continues on as though she hasn't heard him.
"We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last...'
"A-Add what l-l-last?" I asked. Ron turned, speechless, to Harry, who had another worry.
"D'you realise how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of Boomslang, that's definitely not in the student's cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea..." Hermione then shut the book with a snap.
"Well, if you three are going to chicken out, fine." She said. There were bright pink patches ilon her cheek and her eyes were brighter than usual. "I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threating Muggle-borns is for worse than brewing up an difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out id it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in..."
"I never though I'd see the day when you'd persuading us to break rules." Said Ron. "All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, OK?"
"How long will it take to make, anyway?" Said Harry, as Hermione looking happier now, opened the book again.
"Well, as the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the pacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."
"A month?" I asked. "We might not have a month."
"Sophie's right." Ron said. "Malfoy could have attacked half of the muggle-borns in the school by then!" But then, oh god, Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and quickly added. "But it's the best paln we've got, so full steam ahead I say."
"This better be bloody worth all the trouble we about to get into." I said. While Hermione was checking to see if the coast was clear for us to leave the bathroom, Ron Muttered something to us.
"It'll be a lot less hassle if one of you can knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."
"Oh, It will be my pleasure." I said. Well, that's if I can stay on my broom long enough to do it. The big match is in a couple of days and I'm nervous. I don't think that anything can stop me from thinking about this match.
"Sophie?" I snap out of my thoughts by my friend Harry, who is looking at me with concern. "You alright?"
"It's the match. It hasn't left my mind."
"You'll be fine."
"Says you. You're had experience at this. I only know how to fly a broom."
"You score Goals better than anyone else."
"I was lucky."
"look, Sophie, I'll be there. You will be fine."
"Okay Harry. I just hope you are right." No, it won't be alright. I'll will be leaving the pitch on a stretcher. Well, better plan my funeral. Still, It could be worse.
(Author's Note: Done and done. I know that the Quidditch match should be here but I have a busy this weekend so what I'll do is that I post this part then finish the rest of the chapter either Sunday or Monday. Also, I'll be putting more interactions with Sophie and the other characters so you can see more of Sophie's personality rather than just throw her in the story at certain moments. So more will be on the way, and I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter as much as I had writing this. So, until next time, Kizzard245 out!)