Part Twelve – Her
"Nother One! Th's'Bin 'Nother one!"
Minerva McGonagall looked up sharply from the work on her desk at the clattering slap of feet and distinctive yelling as it approached her door at speed. Barely had she done so, when the door in question burst open and revealed the perpetually dishevelled and unwashed figure of Argus Filch.
Leaping to her feet, she set her hands on her hips and scowled. "Mr Filch! Whatever is the meaning of this disgraceful commotion?"
Panting heavily, having apparently run some distance, Filch leant against the door frame and used his free hand to gesticulate wildly. "The Chamber Headmistress... s'happened again. "
"Another attack?!" Minerva snapped worriedly, moving out from behind her desk.
"s'a message Headmistress. I fink its worse thi'time."
"Show me."
~HpɸqH~
Curfew and the current rules about wandering the halls had an unexpected and not unhelpful side effect. Well at least Hermione liked to think so. The halls were empty; even the prefects had to abide by the rules, after what happened to Sir Nicholas the ghosts tried to avoid venturing far from the great hall and the teachers were so busy trying to keep the penned up students from going stir crazy they rarely seemed to patrol. Their nightly journey back from Hagrid's hut was actually pretty easy.
In fact they'd become so accustomed to the ease with which they could currently navigate the school, that they'd taken to shedding Harry's cloak and making their way undisguised. Of course they used it outside, on the grand staircase and kept it close at hand for emergencies, but for the most part it remained scrunched up under Harry's arm.
This of course pleased Hermione for many reasons. Not least of which was that travelling anywhere with Harry and Ron under that cloak for any length of time resulted in a fair amount of bruising and a familiarity with the way both boys smelled that Hermione wasn't entirely comfortable with.
So yes it was a bit of a risk, but it was so worth it to have the freedom to walk down the corridor without Ron's elbow in her ribs and her nose banging into the back of Harry's head.
Not that she was entirely relishing this fact at the moment. Instead her attention was otherwise occupied, her thoughts squarely back in Hagrid's hut. Tonight had been the first time they'd been down to see Black and Lupin in three days; Harry had said something about Sirius saying they had a lead on Dumbledore. Only it was clear they hadn't found the Headmaster, and more than that, when Hermione had asked them how they'd got on, neither seemed to understand for a moment what she was talking about. Now Hermione would admit she was no expert at telling when people were lying, well unless those people were Ron and Harry, but nevertheless she was convinced the story about looking for Dumbledore was a red herring.
Then there was Mr Lupin. The way he'd looked and sounded. The way he remained practically slumped in Hagrid's armchair the entire time they'd been there, where as usually he would be up and around, or would at least join them at the table. He'd slurred his words a bit, seemed vacant, absent minded and unfocussed. In short he seemed to be unwell. Really unwell.
Black had seemed torn too. Torn between focussing his attention on Harry, and hovering around Lupin like some kind of overbearing mother hen. She didn't like it. She never liked not knowing what was going on, but this niggled her more than that. She didn't like the thought of Mr Lupin being ill, and liked the suspicion he'd been hurt somehow even less. She hadn't missed how covered in scars he was. For a moment she entertained the thought that perhaps he and Black had gone up against the Basilisk, but then she dismissed it. If they had, they'd be petrified or worse, not groggy and sickly looking. And Black didn't seem to be hurt at all. Worried, but not hurt.
"You alright Hermione?"
"What?" Hermione blinked out of her thoughts to find Harry and Ron looking at her curiously.
"Ron asked if you were alright." Harry repeated, a slight chuckle in his voice. "You were miles away."
"Sorry." Hermione shrugged. "I was just thinking... no its nothing. Never mind."
Ron groaned. "Right, like you ever think about nothing. Go on, what's going on in that crazy head of yours?"
"I'm not crazy." Hermione huffed. "But as you asked, I was thinking about Mr Lupin."
"What about him?" Harry asked with a frown.
"Well, didn't you... I mean do you think..." Hermione huffed again and slapped her arms down by her sides in vague frustration as she struggled to articulate her thoughts.
Luckily for her, Harry just nodded. "There's something wrong with him. I noticed too."
"Noticed what?" Ron looked between the pair in confusion.
Hermione opened her mouth to express her general opinion of Ron's lack of observational skills, but another voice cut across hers. A loud yet highly familiar voice echoing around the stone halls.
"All students are to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers to the second floor corridor immediately."
Looking between her two companions, Hermione knew instantly what they should be doing, and also exactly what they would be doing instead. As they took off down the corridor, she absently wondered when it was that she'd decided rules were really more like a guidelines when the circumstances called for it.
~HpɸqH~
Minerva waited, eyes fixed on the bloody script scrawled across the wall as the corridor rang with the sound of many hurried steps. Tall, dark and imposing, Severus Snape was the first to reach her side. Turning to look at him, she caught the moment the severity of the situation hit. She saw the surprise, the shock and the horror flash across his features before being quickly forced back behind the mask of sneering cool that he was so famous for.
More and more members of staff were gathering, not quite all yet, but most. Gasps of surprise and shock, mutters and murmurs of confusion. Worried words whispering all around her. She had to say something. Bring them all back to focus. Something had to be done, something sensible and responsible. She was acting Headmistress. She had a job to do.
~HpɸqH~
There were just too many teachers and other staff gathered around for the trio to get close. Tucked into a small alcove out of sight but not so far they couldn't hear the loudest of the conversations bouncing between the adults present, Hermione, Ron and Harry struggled to see exactly what it was that had elicited McGonagall's summons.
"As you can see, the Heir of Slytherin has left another message." McGonagall spoke as the crowd of staff gathered in close. "Our worst fear has been realised. A student has been taken by the monster, into the Chamber itself."
In their alcove, the trio looked at each other in alarm, before Hermione frowned. That couldn't be right. A Basilisk was powerful, deadly, the worst kind of magical beast, but at the end of the day it was what it was. A huge great snake with a killer stare. It could kill, it could petrify, but she somehow doubted it could to take and carry anything or anyone anywhere. She was prevented from expressing this thought to the others however, as McGonagall was still talking. Her words ominous and the last thing Hermione ever wanted to hear.
"The students must be sent home." She continued, her voice laden with distress. "I'm afraid this is the end of Hogwarts."
Wide eyed Hermione snapped round to look once more at her companions.
"They can't close the school!" She hissed in a whisper.
"Priorities Hermione." Harry whispered back. "Someone's been taken!"
"I know that!" Hermione snapped in return. "What can we do?"
The other two looked about as lost as she felt.
~HpɸqH~
The heads of houses had all gone to find the nearest fireplaces to contact their prefects and make headcounts. Severus had already returned with the news his house was all accounted for. Not entirely surprising. Why would the Heir of Slytherin attack his own house after all?
No it was news from the other houses that she was anxiously awaiting. From her own house. Acting Headmistress she might be, but that didn't mean the ties of affection and responsibility that bound her to Gryffindor as its head of house had been severed. Quite the contrary. She felt them all the more keenly with the separation.
"No one missing from Ravenclaw Minerva." A squeaky voice from below broke her thoughts and Minerva looked down into the tense but resolute face of Filius Flitwick, his eyes red rimmed but his mouth set in a grim line. They'd often joked about the fact that the both of them had debated with the sorting hat prior to their sorting, both of them being given the same options when it came to their houses. While Flitwick had ultimately ended up in Ravenclaw, and she Gryffindor, Minerva could well see in this moment the lion behind the raptor sharp mind. Not for the first time she was glad of his presence.
As she was for the presence of all her heads of houses. Severus, Filius, Pomona and yes even dear sweet Charity. Thinking of the ladies in question, Pomona bustled up with her usual no nonsense stride, Charity shakily following behind.
Minerva didn't need to hear the words, but she let them wash over her none the less.
"All present and correct, thank Merlin." Sprout barked out.
Looking up, Minerva met the gaze of the acting head of Gryffindor. "Charity?"
"Four missing." Charity Burbage winced as she spoke.
"No prizes for guessing three of them." Snape drawled behind her.
"Not now Severus." Minerva snapped back over her shoulder, casting a furious glare at her Deputy. Looking back at Charity she gestured for younger woman to continue.
~HpɸqH~
"What are they saying?"
"I don't know." Harry whispered back from where he was straining to overhear the teachers' conversation. They were too far away and talking to quietly. The only person he'd been able to hear clearly was Snape, but what he'd said made little sense on its own.
"I think they've done a headcount." Hermione supplied, then she grimaced. "I think they know we aren't in the dorm, but I'm sure Burbage said there were four missing."
"So who's the other one?" Ron asked in concern. "We know where the three of us are."
"Shhh." Harry suddenly snapped, grabbing the other two and pulling them deeper into the alcove. "Someone's coming."
In the shadow's the three waited with breaths held as footsteps approached and passed right by. Next to him he felt Hermione sag.
"Terribly sorry." The meticulously coiffured professor announced himself amiably. "Dozed off. What have I missed?"
Lockhart.
Hermione's grip on Harry's arm tightened, and as he looked over at her, she smiled. "He'll know what to do Harry."
Looking back at the man who'd managed to unleash nothing but chaos around the school for the last two terms, Harry wasn't convinced.
~HpɸqH~
Minerva McGonagall had long respected Albus Dumbledore. She'd often wondered at some of the decisions he'd made, but ultimately the man's wisdom had always prevailed. As his Deputy it wasn't just a privileged of position but her responsibility to question and debate his choices when it came to the running of the school. The position of Headmaster did not make someone infallible after all.
There were only two issues however, that had given Minerva continued concern. The first being the placement of Harry Potter with the Dursleys. Not exactly a school issue until recently, but definitely an event that left her with a terrible doubt in her mind.
The second was the hiring of Gilderoy Lockhart. Unlike many, Minerva McGonagall was not taken in by the flashy clothes, the immaculate smile or the man's seemingly endless list of accomplishments. She'd worked in education long enough to know that people did change as they grew older. She knew that troublesome youths could become settled and productive adults. That quiet and introverted children could grow into outgoing and gregarious extroverts. That the studious could become lazy and the lazy hardworking. She'd seen evidence of all such metamorphoses.
What she had yet to see was a barely average student who although they excelled at theory, had not the latent talent to become expert in any field of magic, suddenly transform into a wizard of immense power and capability.
She remembered Gilderoy Lockhart the student. She remembered and what she remembered did not match the man who had just strutted up to her in the middle of a crisis as calm and blasé as a someone re-entering a dinner party conversation having just visited the lavatory.
The man was a braggart. A fraud. A charlatan. All bluster and hot air. As an old friend of hers was known to say; all mouth and no trousers. Whatever Albus was trying to achieve in hiring him she didn't know, although she secretly hoped his intention had been to expose the man for the sham artist he was. Even if that had been his intention, she wasn't convinced that such a petty achievement should come at the expense of the children's education and the school's reputation. She'd expressed her concerns, and while Albus had remained evasive as to his motives, she'd argued that very point to the Headmaster ad nauseum. Nevertheless, hire him Albus had, and now she had to deal with him.
And his bluster.
Turning an icy glare on the man who stood in the place of a competent DADA professor, in the place of someone who might actually have been able to help them, and the poor girl who had been taken, she resisted the urge to sneer.
She had no need to speak however. Severus, she knew, was equally unimpressed by the prancing peacock that held the position the potions master had once so coveted, and his derisive tone said more eloquently what they both felt than any words that were currently on the tip of the acting Headmistress' tongue.
"A girl has been snatched by the monster Lockhart. Your moment has come at last."
Inside Minerva felt a shrill of vindication as fear flickered in Lockhart's eyes. "M-my m-moment?"
"Weren't you saying just last night," Severus continued to drawl dryly, "that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"
There was a moment of silence. Minerva saw her chance and when Lockhart continued to stare dumbfounded at Severus, she took it. "That's settled. We'll leave you to deal with the monster Gilderoy. Your skills after all are legend."
Another beat. Then the fake smile, and fake confidence and fake reassurance. "Very well... ahh... I'll just be in my office getting... err... Getting ready."
As Lockhart turned and strode away, Minerva let her shoulders drop and the worry resettle. Gilderoy was no longer her concern. She knew his type. If he was still in the building in an hour's time she'd eat her hat.
~HpɸqH~
"McGonagall's gone mental." Ron exclaimed quietly. "She can't mean to..."
"Why wouldn't she?" Hermione interrupted. "If anyone can help whoever's been taken to the Chamber, Professor Lockhart can. He's a hero. Besides, didn't you hear? He knows where the entrance to the Chamber is! God, I can't believe you Ronald, are you so jealous you'd let someone die..."
"Guys!"Harry interrupted as his two friends hissed at each other. "Stop it. Look the teachers are leaving."
"They're coming this way!" Ron squeaked. "If we're caught we'll be in detention until we finish our NEWTs!"
"So be quiet then!" Hermione snapped, shoving Ron into the alcove and squeezing in beside him.
Just in time too. Once again holding their breaths, the trio waited as the procession of teachers passed by their hiding spot. Fierce and gloomy expressions worn by all.
"Who is it the monster's taken Minerva?" They heard Madame Pomfrey ask as she and McGonagall walked in and out of view.
"There are only four students unaccounted for" Their former head of house sighed in reply. "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and the two youngest Weasleys."
"The message said..." Pomfrey gaspsed.
"Yes." McGonagall agreed, "Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever. Until either Miss Granger or young Ginny Wealsey surfaces, I'm afraid I can't be certain which is our victim and which is merely somewhere they oughtn't to be."
He only held it in long enough for the last of the teachers to move away from their hiding spot. The words echoed round his head.
Her Skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.
"Ginny."
His knees gave. He was vaguely aware of Hermione letting out a startled yelp as he crumpled and the motion pushed her out of their hiding space, but he couldn't really think about it right now.
Her Skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.
Not Ginny. It didn't matter how many times he'd fervently wished she'd just disappear in a puff of smoke, or simply hadn't existed to begin with, he never really meant it. Not really. He'd never wanted this. He never wanted her to end up a snack for a ruddy great snake. Never wanted her to be a skeleton in some dark place hidden under the castle.
Merlin, his Mum and Dad would be devastated. It would kill them. He wasn't sure it wouldn't kill him.
"Ron! Ron! Come on snap out of it!"
Harry's voice. Harry's hand pulling on his arm.
He looked up, "The monster has Ginny."
He couldn't think of anything else to say.
"We know Ron. Come on. We have to see Lockhart." Harry pulled on his arm again, managing this time to haul him to his feet.
"How is that going to help!?" Ron exclaimed as panic broke through.
"Ron stop it!" Hermione barked angrily. "We need to tell Lockhart what we know about the Chamber and the Monster. Then he'll be able to get her out!"
"What we know? What we know?!" Hysteria crept into Ron's voice as he rounded on Hermione. "We don't know anything! And Lockhart isn't going to find Ginny! He couldn't find his bum with both hands!"
"Hermione's right." Harry broke in, catching hold of Hermione and encouraging them both to hurry along the corridor with him. "Lockhart may be useless, but he's going to try and get into the Chamber. We know about the Basilisk, he can go in prepared. And besides, remember what Aragog said about the girl who died fifty years ago?"
At the impatient glare from Hermione and clueless look from Ron, Harry groaned. "She died in a bathroom." Again nothing. "Well, what if she never left?"
"Moaning Murtle!" Hermione burst out, then she slapped Harry's arm, hard.
"Ow!" Harry yelped. "What did you do that for?"
"For not telling me what Aragog said we could have had this worked out weeks ago!"
"I forgot alright!" Harry defended himself. Having reached a set of stairs, he took them two at a time, looking back at Hermione and Ron only sparingly. "With everything with Sirius and Pettigrew I..."
"Right." Hermione backed down, charging passed Harry and slamming through the next door. "Sorry. I guess you did have other things on your mind."
"Hang on." Ron panted from behind them. "You mean to say you think the entrance to the Chamber is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"
"Makes about as much sense as anything." Harry shrugged.
"The water on the floor, the fact the Basilisk gets around in the pipes. And no-one's ever said how Moaning Myrtle actually died. Strange place for a student to die really. In a bathroom."
"Unless you're Elvis." Harry joked.
"Who?" Ron shook his head with a frown.
"He's... never mind. Bad joke." Harry shook his head and made for the stairs up to the Defence against the Dark arts classroom. "We need to tell Lockhart, and then he can ask Myrtle himself."
"What if we're wrong?" Ron questioned worriedly. "That monster has my sister."
"Then I guess we'll just have to hope Lockhart really does know where the entrance is."
"Of course he'll know." Hermione scolded. "Now come on!"
Compared to how the DADA classroom had looked for most of the year, practically packed with portraits and photographs of Lockhart, it now looked decidedly empty as they raced between the desks towards the office at the far end.
"Professor Lockhart!" Hermione yelled as they climbed the curved stairs up to the office. "Professor Lockhart!"
"Professor! We have some information for you!" Harry joined the yelling as the pair of them barged through the door.
Behind them Ron skidded to a halt as he crossed the threshold, almost running into the Hermione and Harry's frozen backs. Blinking he looked around, confused for a moment why his friends had gone silent, then realisation kicked in. Bags, boxes, crates. Everything that should have been out in the classroom was crammed into the small office and was clearly in the process of being packed by the rather harried looking professor on the other side of the room.
Even as they watched him he continued to cram belongings into any available space, his haste taking precedence over the interruption.
"Are you going somewhere?" Harry finally asked, incredulity and anger lacing his voice.
" ...Well err, yes..." Lockhart stumbled ungracefully, "Urgent call... unavoidable." Lockhart shrugged and made a gesture that seemed to imply an 'oh well, never mind' attitude. "Gotta go."
Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd been right. He'd been absolutely bloody right. Lockhart was useless, and McGonagall had put him in charge of getting Ginny back! "What about my sister!?"
"Well... ahh... as to that, most unfortunate..." Lockhart threw out like the words could possibly have any meaning or solace. "No one regrets more than I."
Anger. Real burning anger welled up in Ron. Striding to the desk, his face crumpled into a fierce scowl. "You're the defence against the dark arts teacher! You can't go now!"
"Well I must say, " Lockhart threw back with irritation as he picked up his bag and moved out from behind his desk, "there was nothing in the job description..."
Clearly Ron wasn't the only one not willing to let this slide. Harry blocked his path. "You're running away?!"
"What about all those things you did in your books? You're supposed to be a hero!" Hermione exclaimed, pushing herself into the space between Ron and Harry.
"Books can be misleading." Lockhart shot back absently, once against trying to muscle passed Harry. But Harry wasn't budging, and neither it seemed was Hermione. Turning to look at her, Ron finally realised why she'd been so quiet up until now. Her face turned from pleading to disappointed and disillusioned in a heartbeat. Hurt. There were tears forming in her eyes.
"But you wrote them!" Hermione accused pointing a finger, her voice choked.
"My dear girl!" Lockhart flapped in exasperation. "Do use your common sense! My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things!"
"You lied!" Hermione exclaimed with horrific realisation. "You lied about all those things... to make money!"
"You're a fraud!" Harry joined in. "You've just been taking credit for what other wizards have done!"
Why this was a shock to Hermione and Harry, Ron had no clue. He just had one question.
"Is there anything you can do?" He bit out, tacking on 'Other than keep your teeth sparkly and wear a wig that is,' In the privacy of his own head.
"Yes." Lockhart snapped snidely, his eyes narrowing. "I'm rather gifted with memory charms. Otherwise you see all those other wizards would have gone blabbing. And I'd never have sold another book. In fact ah..." Lockhart turned away, moving towards the back of the room again. "I'm ah... have to do the..."
"Immobilus!"
Ron blinked. He wasn't slow. He wasn't as dim witted as many thought. He'd worked out what Lockhart planned to do to them and he'd already caught Harry's eye to see the same realisation there. It was just that, as always, Hermione was just that one split second faster on the uptake.
"Great." Ron huffed, "Nice one Hermione, now he's frozen exactly how is he supposed to help us find Ginny?"
Hermione wasn't listening. Her expression was one of complete betrayal, her lower lip quivering. "I respected him. He was supposed to be a hero and he's just a... just a... Just a miserable lying cheating fraud!"
"Hermione..." Harry reached out, sympathy in his voice but worry in his expression as his hand edged nearer her outstretched wand.
Jerking away from him, Hermione pocketed her wand, turned on her heel and made for the door.
"Hey! Where are you going!?" Ron yelled after her. She couldn't just run out on them now. They needed her. They were on their own and they had to find Ginny. "Hermione!"
"I'm going to find a real Hero!"
Spinning back to Harry, Ron looked at him in panic. "Now what are we going to do?"
Harry gave him a slightly desperate one shoulder shrug. "Try the counter curse?"
~HpɸqH~
In the end it took three tries to un-immobilize Lockhart, and duly cowed by the righteous anger (and in Ron's case pure desperation) being directed at him by his two teenage guards, Lockhart had been directed towards Moaning Myrtles bathroom with only the slightest resistance.
Once in the bathroom however, there were two oh so teeny tiny hurdles to overcome, the first of which was currently floating somewhere near the ceiling moaning piteously. It wasn't that Harry didn't like Myrtle. That wasn't to say he liked her either. He had no real feeling about her at all other than the fact that she made him all kinds of uncomfortable.
He wasn't stupid, her flirtations were hardly subtle. But the first problem with that was that she was a sixth year; when she let her feet touch the ground she was a good six inches taller than he was. The second problem was the moaning; she was by far the moaniest, whiniest, and most waspish girl Harry had ever met (and he included all Slytherins, his Aunt Petunia and the really bratty girl from number eleven with the pigtails and braces in that assessment). Finally the third and perhaps the most significant hindrance to any chance of a romantic match, was the fact that she was dead.
So in short she was creepy. And really difficult to have any kind of civil conversation with.
"Hello Harry."
Harry winced. He'd actually forgotten about the giggle. Beside him he heard Ron stifle a snigger.
"Hi... Myrtle."
"What do you want?" Myrtle asked, head cocked to one side, her brow furrowing for a moment as she took in Harry's companions.
Now for the awkward part. Harry supposed there were some questions that simply defied any attempts to be asked tactfully. "I wanted to ask you..." He cringed, "How you died."
"Oh." Myrtle blinked at him for a second. Then she giggled, and finally she looked down, sad and forlorn. "It was dreadful." She sniffed, although how a ghost could have a runny nose Harry had no idea. "It happened right here in this very bathroom." She sniffed again, then blinked wetly. "I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I was crying. Then I heard somebody come in."
"Who was it Myrtle?" Harry asked with a hint of desperate impatience. Behind him he could feel Ron fidgeting, his momentary mirth having dissipated as quickly as it had come.
"I don't know! I was distraught!" Myrtle snapped angrily, then made a hiccupping sound before going back to her previous sad expression as she floated closer. "But they said something funny, a kind of made up language And I realised it was a boy speaking so I unlocked the door to tell him to GO AWAY! And... I died."
"Just like that?" Harry asked with a mixture of curiosity and disappointment. He'd been hoping for a little more to go on. "How?"
Myrtle shrugged, "I just remember seeing a pair of great big yellow eyes. Right there," She pointed to one of the sinks in the centre of the room. "by that sink."
Then with a moan and a flick of her pigtails she was gone, rapidly floating off to bob up and down above her favourite cubical.
Glancing at Ron to make sure he still had Lockhart covered – it wasn't like the fake professor knew Ron's wand didn't work after all – Harry moved cautiously over to the sink Myrtle had pointed out. It looked like any other sink. Rust and lime scale stains around the taps and overflow, tarnished mirror above, hair and what looked like a cake of pinky powder in the plughole. Sadly no little sign saying 'press here to enter Chamber of Secrets'.
Or maybe there was. Granted there were castings, carvings and engravings of the four house animals everywhere around the school, but it suddenly occurred to Harry that it was a little odd to find one on a tap in a bathroom that could be used by any house. Especially a snake, when if he wasn't mistaken, this bathroom was actually closest to the Hufflepuff common-room. Surely a badger would be more in keeping?
Reaching forward, Harry ran his fingers almost reverently over the side of the tap, feeling the ridges and curves of the snake cast into the metal.
"This is it," He nodded to himself. He was sure of it. Biting his lip, he stepped back. "I think this is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."
But just because he'd found it, didn't mean he knew how to get in. He'd tried the tap when he'd been examining the sink and that hadn't worked; there was no little button, catch or switch as far as he could tell either.
"Say something." Ron suddenly urged, an expectant and excited edge to his voice.
Turning to face his friend, Harry shot him a confused look.
"Say something in Parseltongue." Ron clarified.
"I'm not sure how." Harry countered apologetically. "It's not like I've ever done it on purpose."
"Just give it a try." Ron prodded urgently.
"Alright..." Harry sighed, turning back to face the sink. Narrowing his eyes he concentrated on the snake. "Open?"
"English." Ron shook his head.
OK so that hadn't worked. Harry looked again at the snake. The shape, the curves and scales. The way the dappled light of bathroom made it look like it was almost moving. The way the light glinted against the eye.
"Heshhahhasssahh"
It still sounded like open to him, but the way Lockhart suddenly looked like he wanted to wet himself and Ron grimaced let Harry know it probably hadn't been. The sudden sound of clanking and grating were also pretty indicative that he'd done something right.
The sink was moving. They were all moving, the stand of sinks coming apart, the top rising up into the high ceiling and the sink with the snake embossed tap slowly dropping into the floor with the sound of stone grinding on stone until finally, with one more last metal clank, a hole was revealed in the floor.
No, not a hole. A pipe. A pipe easily big enough for a man, or even a basilisk to move through.
As the three of them stared down into the seemingly bottomless abyss, Lockhart let out a shaky exhalation. "phew... well, yes. Excellent Harry... ah... good work. Now if you'll... there's no need for me to..."
Lockhart bolted. Unfortunately for him he bolted right into Harry and Ron.
"Oh yes there is." Harry bit out as they shoved Lockhart back towards the hole. There was no way either of them were going to let Lockhart wiggle out of this. Hadn't McGonagall been telling him all year that there were things that adults, that grownups like teachers should deal with that children should not? Well surely this was one of those things.
"What good will it do?" Lockhart argued.
Harry couldn't think of an answer to that. Lockhart was useless and they all knew it. But then Ron spoke, his voice a pure sneer. "Better you than us."
With two wands pointed at him Lockhart also seemed to see the logic in that statement. Turning carefully he peered down the hole.
And that was when Ron poked him in the back with his wand, effectively shoving him down the hole.
Clearly Ron was still beyond incensed by the cowardly DADA professor.
The professor's scream seemed to echo back up the pipe. It wasn't a comfortable sound to hear. Nor was the crunching thud that ended it. Oh god. They'd killed him. They'd actually killed him. A person. They'd pushed him down a hole and killed him. They'd...
"Really quite filthy down here."
Air rushed out of Harry's lungs. Breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Lockhart was alive.
Good.
Harry peered down the hole.
Now it was their turn.
~HpɸqH~
Hermione ran. Ran as fast and as hard as she could, robes flapping around her, school shoes slapping hard against the unyielding stone floors.
She was a fool. She was ten times the fool. She was a monstrous blithering idiot. She was the combined IQ of Crabbe and Goyle divided up between a bus load of earthworms.
She'd believed in Lockhart. Believed the books and the stories and the fancy clothes. The charming smile and perfect hair. She'd been duped. She'd been hoodwinked. She'd been taken in like some brainless airhead. It was humiliating. And worse than that, now her blind faith meant Ginny could die.
God. Harry and Ron.
They were still going to try and save her. She knew it. She didn't know whether they'd unstick Lockhart and still try to get his help or go alone, but either way she' knew they'd try. They were going to die too. Harry was amazing but against a basilisk?
They needed help.
They needed a real hero. Someone who really had done wondrous and amazing things. Someone who wouldn't turn and run away from danger.
Sirius Black.
She had to find Black and Lupin. Even if he was unwell Lupin would help too right? And even if he couldn't, Sirius wouldn't let Harry run in to danger alone. Sirius loved Harry. Sirius was Harry's godfather.
And Sirius knew his way around the school better than anyone alive. He'd know how to help. He would. He'd find Harry and Ron, he'd help them, keep them safe and save Ginny all at the same time. She knew it.
She had to get to him. She had to find him.
He'd still be at the hut right? That's where he'd been living.
She had...
Turning a corner, Hermione felt her forward motion abruptly halted and hands grab her robes.
"Oh dear, oh dear. Miss Granger. You 'ave caused quite a stir tonigh'. The Headmistress is quite keen to talk to you."
Tbc...