Chapter Nine: In Which Scarhead Goes Batty and the Malfoys Take Revenge
The Halloween feast, as always, was a rather joyous affair, for all four Houses. The candles that usually lit the Great Hall, floating in the air, had been replaced with jack-o-lanterns of all shapes and sizes, and a Saturday had been set aside to allow any student to wished to join in on the carving of the pumpkins grown by Hagrid.
In addition to all of the wonderful food fit for royalty, there were also sweets of all sorts. Lollipops, toffee, taffy, caramel, candy floss, sugared popping corn, and a wide variety of Honeyduke's finest sweets. Zeus had arrived early that morning with a package of Dobby and Jinky's homemade confections, including fudge, peanut brittle, and several different types of biscuits. Harry favored the chocolate mint ones, while Draco favored peanut butter.
In the darkened light of the Great Hall, the mood was set very easily, and the weather outside seemed to match, as the students observed the storm overhead, with the occasional boom of thunder and the flicker of lightning lighting up the sky.
"We'll have to get together in the Common Room and tell scary stories," Anastasia Nott was telling her first-year Slytherin friends, and the boys smiled at each other.
"Last year, there was a troll inside of Hogwarts," Nott informed his sister matter-of-factly.
"No way," she said, brushing him off, while tossing her cascading raven hair to the side. "You're lying."
"He's telling the truth," said Harry. "Professor Quirrell set it on us, thinking it would distract everyone so that he could get to the Philosopher's Stone, that was hidden here. Anyone can tell you." She looked at them skeptically for a moment, before she shrugged and resumed chatting with her friends, some of whom were sending Harry star-struck looks.
Daphne noticed this and scowled at them, leaning her head onto Harry's shoulder, who smiled into her hair.
"Well, this is new," he commented dryly, and she smiled up at him sweetly, batting her long eyelashes, causing him to focus on her eyes, the exact shade of emeralds… they were so beautiful.
"Well, it is my duty as your betrothed to keep away the other competition," she said, and he casually put his arm around her waist, still smiling.
"Isn't that supposed to be my job?"
"Well, yes, but all of the Slytherin boys know not to mess with you, so I'm left fending off gold-digging hussies." Harry chuckled and kissed Daphne softly on the forehead, as was an acceptable form of affection for a twelve year old to possess.
"You two are so cute, it makes me retch in my mouth a little bit," drawled Draco, and Daphne smiled sweetly at him.
"Jealousy doesn't become you, Draco," she said. "And besides, you'll be dealing with this, soon, as well. Aren't your parents looking for possible marriage arrangements for you, too?"
"Doesn't the oldest usually get betrothed first?" asked Zabini, looking slightly confused.
"Usually," said Harry, chuckling. "But I was the one who breached the subject with Father, so I took first priority." He looked at Draco smugly at this. "I must count my victories as they come."
"And I'm sure there will be many more to come," said Daphne, tilting her head back to shoot Harry a rather mischievous look and a coy smile. Harry laughed, and hugged her tightly for a moment, before the two of them returned to their meals. The band of Gryffindork misfits were noticeably absent from the feast, but for once, Harry didn't really care what was going on in their lives, so long as it didn't affect him.
The Slytherins, after the meal was finished, began their descent to the Common Room, when they saw the Gryffindork misfits standing in front of the body of a hanging cat… who at second glance, they were able to confirm it was Mrs. Noris. On the wall, the words were written:
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Harry and Draco, grinning identical grins, pushed their way to the front of the crowd.
"Enemies of the heir, beware?" asked Draco with a nasty grin. "You'll be next, mudbloods."
"And then the blood traitors," Harry added, the smile still tugging at his lips. The two of them gloated as the Gryffindorks looked at them with undisguised disgust, most likely for the fact that they were grinning at the hanging body of the cat, as it meant that the plans set forth by the Dark Lord and their father were working smoothly… as the artefact they'd sent off was disposable to the Dark Lord.
"What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by the shouts of the two Malfoy brothers, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.
"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked… and his popping yellow, lamp-like eyes fell onto Jamie Potter.
"You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll ––"
"Argus!"
Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Scarhead, Weasel-bee, Lardbottom, and mudblood Granger and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch basket.
"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Granger."
Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.
"My office is nearest, Headmaster –– just upstairs –– please feel free ––"
"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.
The silent crowd parted like the Red Sea to let them past, but not before Harry cast a listening spell onto Harry's robe, so that he and his fellow Slytherins could listen in.
"It was definitely a curse that killed her –– probably the Transmogrifian Torture –– I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…" Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs.
"Like the fool actually knows anything," said Daphne dryly as the Slytherins listened raptly in the Common Room. "Honestly, everyone knows he's a fraud."
"I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," Lockhart was continuing on. "A series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once…" there was a pause, and then the voice of the Headmaster sounded through the charm.
"She's not dead, Argus."
"Not dead?" choked Filch. "But why's she all –– all stiff and frozen?"
"She's been Petrified," said Dumbledore. "But how, I cannot say."
"Ask him!" here, the Slytherins assumed that Filch was pointing at Jamie Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-get-in-trouble-always.
"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced ––"
"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found –– in my office –– he knows I'm a –– I'm a ––" there was a pause. "He knows I'm a Squib!"
"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Scarhead erupted loudly.
"Rubbish!" said Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"
"If I might speak, Headmaster," came the smooth baritone of Severus Snape from through the listening charm. "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 was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?" The jumbled voices of the Gryffindors all protested at once.
"...there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there."
"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape continued. "Why go up to that corridor?"
"Because –– because ––" Jamie sputtered. "––because we were tired and wanted to go to bed."
"Without any supper?" asked Snape. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties.
"We weren't hungry!" Weasel-bee objected, and the Slytherins laughed as they heard his stomach rumble.
"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," said Snape. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." There were several cheers throughout the Slytherin Common Room, but they quieted down as McGonagall began to speak.
"Really, Severus," she said sharply. "I see no reason to stop the boy playing quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."
"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," came the grandfatherly voice of the Headmaster.
"My cat has been Petrified!" Filch shrieked, and the Slytherins winced. "I want to see some punishment!"
"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."
"I'll make it!" the Slytherins groaned as the voice of Gilderoy Lockhart once more butted into the conversation. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep ––"
"Excuse me," came the ice smooth voice of Professor Snape, once more. "But I believe that I am the Potions master at this school." There was an awkward pause in which no one spoke.
"You may go," said Dumbledore, and the Slytherins groaned as they heard the voices of the Gryffindor misfits leaving the room, and Harry quickly cancelled the charm.
"Well," he said finally. "That was interesting."
For the next few days, the school could talk of little else by the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though the attacker might come back. Harry and Draco had seen him scrubbing at the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy".
For once, there was actually an interesting History of Magic lesson, in which mudblood Granger asked Professor Binns about the Chamber of Secrets. Though he claimed it all to be utter poppycock, the Slytherins knew differently. It was well known between them that Harry was a parselmouth, and could therefore hear the sound of the Basilisk sliding through the pipes, and they all knew they were safe, and didn't bother telling anyone else, because Slytherins took care of themselves.
Soon, it was time for the November Quidditch match, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. After their close defeat the year previous, they were out for Gryffindor blood, and, a week leading up to the match, there were considerably more duels breaking out between the Gryffindors and Slytherins as animosity was at its highest, but Professor Snape always managed to keep his snakes out of serious trouble.
Soon, the two teams were gathered on the pitch, ready to mount their brooms, Harry and Draco wielding their Beater's bats, eager to take on the challenge that was presented to them in the form of the Weasley twins.
"On my whistle," said Madame hooch. "Three… two… one…"
With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Higgs and Scarhead flew higher than all the others, scanning for the Snitch. If there was one thing that Potter took seriously, it was Quidditch. Harry and Draco wasted no time in pelting the Gryffindors with Bludgers, managing early to almost hit Potter, who had dived rather spectacularly out of the way, and had hit Spinnet and Johnson in the back of the head.
However, one bludger seemed quite determined to knock Scarhead off of his broom, and kept coming back at him no matter how hard one of the twin terrors sent it away. Harry and Draco shared a grin, and knew that it was Lipsy's handiwork on display. They quickly got into the game, firing bludger after bludger at all of the Gryffindor players, and easily defending their own from the onslaught of the one flying ball not focusing on Potter.
"Slytherin lead, sixty to zero ––" Lee Jordan was saying. Draco and Harry soon got rid of Bell, and then continued their onslaught, allowing the Slytherin Chasers to score ten more goals… Wood was off his game today, and they didn't know why.
As Scarhead went to close his hand on the Snitch, the rogue bludger finally caught up to him, and with a WHAM he was down for the count.
From afar, Draco and Harry, along with the other Slytherins, shared a laugh at Potter's dispense when Lockhart vanished all of the bones in his arm, and then they left, laughing merrily, to celebrate their win against Gryffindor, 160-150. It was a lot more fun now that they were the ones who had won by ten points, and it was an even sweeter victory because Potter had caught the Snitch, but Slytherin had still won!
The next day, the student population discovered that another victim had been Petrified.
This time, it had been mudblood Creevey.
Harry and Draco shared a secretive smile, knowing things were going according to plan.