A/N: A couple of people have asked why Harry didn't speak Parseltongue during the Dueling Club. That decision was deliberate, both on my part and Harry's part. Harry knows that the voice he heard earlier belonged to the Basilisk, and he's smart enough to realize that if people knew that, they might suspect him of being the Heir. Also, the only reason Harry had to speak Parseltongue during the duel in canon was because the idiot Lockhart pissed it off and sent it towards Justin. Since the snake this time was only targeting Harry, his first instinct was not to speak to it but to neutralize the threat himself.

So the major difference at Hogwarts, besides the Basilisk being dead, is that this time Harry isn't suspected of being the Heir. There's a lot of fear about who the Heir might be, but not a lot of suspicion aimed at any particular individual. Harry's ability to speak Parseltongue is a source of confusion for him, and so far he hasn't shared it with his friends or teachers. That may change down the road.

This chapter has a lot of elements from canon, but it also represents a major shift away from canon – you'll see what I mean once you read it, and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Naruto

Chapter 12: Disturbing Discoveries

In the aftermath of the Dueling Club, Harry became something of a celebrity – that is, to the extent that someone who is already famous can become a celebrity. News of his duel with Draco traveled at near faster-than-light speed through the school's gossip channels, and soon everyone seemed to think that Harry was a Dueling prodigy. Harry was embarrassed by the attention, not least because it blew his abilities far out of proportion. Hermione and Ron were just as good as he was, and surpassed him in many ways: Hermione picked up new spells before he could even remember their names, and Ron was constantly taking the lead in devising their team strategies. But Harry had been the one on the stage, and so he was the one talked about. He worried that Ron might get jealous, but his friend surprised him with his maturity in shrugging it off.

"I know you didn't ask for that, mate," Ron said. "Besides, it's better if everyone focuses on you, right? Then they'll underestimate Hermione and me, and we'll have an advantage over any potential enemies." Harry could only duck his head, grateful that his friend was being so understanding.

It soon became clear that Draco was not going to forget his humiliation soon. His comments in class and at meals, while always mean, took a nasty turn for the worse in the days leading up to the Christmas holidays. "Mudblood" was the least of it – he made sly insinuations about Ron and Harry's parents, and never missed an opportunity to make a hateful comment about their friends. Harry and Ron came very close to hexing him numerous times, and it was only thanks to Hermione that they were able to keep their cool.

"He wants to get a rise out of you," she told them again and again. "If you attack first, he wins. That's why he makes sure not to say anything when there's a Professor or a witness around – so he can say that you cast the first spell without being provoked. The only way to beat him is to ignore him."

Still, the constant taunting would have grown to be too much to bear, if it hadn't been for the knowledge that in a very short time the Polyjuice Potion would be ready. There would be no greater revenge than sneaking into the Slytherin common room and incriminating Malfoy based on evidence that he gave them himself. Whenever Malfoy's barbed comments made Harry see red, he made himself focus on the prospect of the Headmaster kicking Draco out of school for good.

"Even if the greasy git is innocent," Ron had said once, after a particularly vitriolic comment about 'Muggle-loving blood traitor scum', "we can still set off a Dungbomb in his bed. That would make me feel a little better."

Though it seemed to the three friends to take forever, the days passed until, at last, the holidays arrived. Because of the looming threat of the Heir of Slytherin, there was a mad rush to take the Hogwarts Express home for Christmas. Many students, however, had elected to spend their holidays at Hogwarts out of solidarity with Dumbledore and the staff. They wanted to make a statement that they would not fear for themselves at Hogwarts while the teachers were there to protect them. Among these brave students were the Prefects, which meant that Percy Weasley would be staying. The rest of the Weasleys still at Hogwarts did the same, even Ginny. The girl had yet to make a coherent sentence in Harry's presence, but her decision to stay impressed him quite a bit. She had always seemed so frightened, yet she was willing to stay at Hogwarts like her brothers, in defiance of the still-mysterious Heir. Harry promised himself that before the year was over, he would have an actual conversation with Ginny. He didn't know when that would be, though, because the girl still disappeared like a ghost when he was around.

Christmas arrived in due time, and it was brilliant, as only Christmas at Hogwarts could be. Even though it was his second year experiencing a real Christmas, it was still almost too much good fortune for Harry to take in. With the small exception of the toothpick Harry got from the Dursleys, his presents were fantastic. His hand-knit sweater from Mrs. Weasley made Harry feel warm inside, and reassured him that she had stopped holding the incident with the flying car against him.

After they finished opening their presents, Hermione told them that the Polyjuice Potion was ready. Ron joked that it was certainly ready, if by "ready" she meant "disgusting and quite possibly poisonous." Harry had to agree – looking at the bubbling, squelching mess in Hermione's spare cauldron, he was definitely not looking forward to drinking it. Hermione did not think Ron's joke was very funny.

"Everyone will be at the feast, so it makes sense to go right after," she declared in her best no-nonsense voice. "All you need now are a few hairs from the person you want to change into. Crabbe and Goyle are always with Malfoy, so they're your best choices."

When Harry asked how Hermione thought they should get the hairs, he was shocked to find that she was advocating assault and kidnapping. She overrode his objections flatly. "We said we were going to do this, and it's too late to back out now. I'm going to make a simple sleeping draft and fill two small cakes with it – we just need to make sure your targets eat them, and then we can hide them somewhere until we're done. The potion only lasts an hour."

"Who's your target?" Harry asked curiously. Hermione's eyes gleamed.

"Pansy Parkinson. I swung by her cauldron after stealing the ingredients from Snape's cupboard, and pretended to trip. She was so angry she didn't realize that I yanked a few of her hairs. I figured she'd be perfect because she's always hanging around Draco."

Harry scratched his head. "That's good for you, but I don't know how I feel about practically poisoning Crabbe and Goyle. This is almost like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, only instead of a poisoned apple we're using cake. You know that makes us the bad guys, right?"

Harry was suddenly visited with the disturbing image of Crabbe and Goyle deep in an enchanted sleep, waiting for their Prince to come rescue them with a kiss. Blurgh. Maybe this wasn't like Snow White after all.

Ron was looking very confused – he wasn't very good with Muggle references. Hermione just shrugged. "Sometimes you have to be bad, if there's no other way to do a good thing."

Ron looked at her in astonishment. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?"

She blushed a delicate pink, then coughed and resumed her practical manner. "Right, so we know how we're getting the hairs. The only thing left is making sure that nothing goes wrong when we actually get to the dungeons. Harry, you wanted to use Fred and George's Map, right?"

"That's right. The Marauders' Map will lead us straight to the Slytherin common room, and it will let us find Malfoy and know who else is around. We'll also have bring the Invisibility cloak, just in case something happens and we can't escape before the potion wears off."

Ron was looking a little awed. "You know," he breathed, "this just might work!"

They agreed to split up, and meet up again before the Feast. Hermione had to make the sleeping potion, while Harry and Ron went to ask the twins if they could borrow the Marauders' Map again. The deal was the same as before – they could borrow the Map if they shared the details of its use. After hearing the details of their plan, Fred and George were once again left open-mouthed with surprise.

"Brother mine," Fred said gloomily, "if things continue as they are, history will forever remember us as the second-best pranksters of our time. I believe that the time has come-"

"-for us to step up our game." George finished. "I couldn't agree more."

As Harry and Ron left to meet back up with Hermione, the determined gleam that came into the twins' eyes made them shiver. They had a bad feeling that Hogwarts was about to get hit by a wave of pranking, and it would be entirely their fault for making the Weasley twins fear that they were losing their touch.

The feast was as fantastic as it had been the year before, if not more so. The decorations were unbelievable, featuring a dozen enormous trees and enchantments that transformed the Great Hall into a winter wonderland. Professor Dumbledore led everyone in singing a few carols, and he even prevailed upon Professor Sarutobi to sing a celebratory song from his home country. There were a few alarmed looks as students realized how many times the song contained the phrase, "blood of our foes."

Harry did his best not to look at Malfoy, who was being his usual intolerable self at the Slytherin table. He didn't want to give anything away, and he was sure that his anticipation was showing in his face.

They left early to lie in wait for the greedy Slytherins. They were easy to waylay, seeing as how they stayed in the Great Hall after everyone left in order to have fourth helpings of dessert. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hid behind a suit of armor after placing the cakes in full view of the stairs. Harry was vaguely astonished at how effective Hermione's plan turned out to be. Draco's goons saw the cakes and their faces lit up with joy. Thirty seconds after they stuffed them in their greedy mouths, they fell backwards in a deep sleep. The Gryffindors hid them in a nearby broom closet, stole their shoes and a few hairs, and made their way up to the third-floor bathroom.

"We're good at this," Harry whispered, astonished. "If magic doesn't work out for us as a career, we could always start a life of crime."

"Oh, stop kidding around, will you Harry?" Hermione snapped, still on edge from their blatant rule-breaking (it might have been law-breaking as well – Harry wasn't sure). "Here, put on these robes. I took them from the laundry – you two will need bigger sizes once the potion starts to work."

Harry and Ron went into separate stalls to put on the larger robes and shoes, and came back out to drink the potion. It seemed to stare at the three of them, bubbling rebelliously in its cauldron.

Hermione ladled a generous portion of the sludge into three glasses, and they each added the hairs they'd collected. At Harry's suggestion, they left to drink their potion in separate stalls.

Harry had experience with bad tastes before – even if you didn't count the slop that the Dursleys had fed him for years, he had had several unfortunate experiences with Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. But Harry still thought that Polyjuice Potion was officially the worst thing he'd ever tasted. It was like burnt cabbage, but slimy. And no Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, not even the vomit-flavored one he'd been unfortunate enough to eat once, had set his insides on fire.

At least, that was as close as Harry could come to describing what it felt like. He thought for sure he was dying, burning up from the inside as his body writhed. Then he saw his hands begin to bubble and bulge as the transformation began. All over his body he felt himself begin to stretch, and the pain only intensified as he grew. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped.

Harry rushed out of the stall to look in the mirror, and it was Gregory Goyle who stared back at him. The close-set piggy eyes, the short, bristly hair – in short, Harry was the spitting image of Draco's follower.

"Eeurgh!" the sound came from Ron's stall, but it didn't sound like Ron. He emerged, and even though Harry was expecting it, he still jumped when he saw Crabbe's ugly face. Hermione joined them a second later, nausea warring with satisfaction to make a very strange combination on Pansy Parkinson's face.

"Wow," Ron said in amazement, waving his hands around in front of the mirror. "You do good work, Hermione."

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said in Pansy's nasal twang. Harry wouldn't have been surprised to find out that this was the first time Pansy's voice had ever expressed gratitude. Equally surprising was the brisk, business-like tone that followed, which was so obviously Hermione even though the voice was Pansy's. "We don't have any time to waste – our hour's already begun. Let's get under the Invisibility Cloak and head to the Slytherin common room. Do you have the Map, Harry?"

Harry patted the inner pocket of his over-sized robes, where he had stashed the Marauder's Map after changing. "Right here."

They all huddled together and Harry draped the cloak around them. They'd grown a little since last year, and it was starting to be a tight fit with all three of them. Harry unrolled the Map and whispered the words to activate it. He found the Slytherin common room with little trouble – he already knew it was in the dungeons somewhere, and once in the vicinity the labeled room was quite easy to spot. The dot that represented Malfoy was not in the common room, but Harry could see that their nemesis was making his way in that direction. They would intercept him before he reached the common room, and that would save them from having to figure out the Slytherin password.

They left the bathroom and began navigating the halls, wanting to get somewhere a little less incriminating before they unveiled their Slytherin disguises. Harry glanced at the Map in order to make sure that the coast was clear.

Harry froze. The Marauders' Map showed the three of them as they were, walking down the third-floor corridor, but next to them… there was another name. A fourth dot traveled with them, and the name Peter Pettigrew was so close it overlapped with their own names. Harry gave a gasp of surprise and whirled about, searching for the person that, according to the Map, was right next to them.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked, as he and Hermione both tensed up, drawing their wands.

"The Map shows someone near," Harry whispered. "Peter Pettigrew…"

There was a loud squeak, and then Ron yelled, "Ow!" He jumped, partially pulling the cloak away from the two of them. He clutched his breast pocket, his expression one of complete shock. "Scabbers bit me!" he exclaimed. "Wait… where'd he go?"

They heard the scrabbling of little feet on the floor, and then Scabbers rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. Harry took another look at the Map, and his suspicions were confirmed – just as Scabbers was running away from them, the name Petter Pettigrew was also retreating on the Map.

"Scabbers!" Ron cried out, about to run after his pet. Harry grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Ron, stop!" He felt instinctively that something was not right, but they didn't have time to go chasing a rat all over Hogwarts. "We have less than an hour left! We can find him after we interrogate Malfoy!"

Ron cast one last, despairing look after his fleeing rat, and then nodded sadly. "Yeah. I'm worried about him, though – I've never seen him act like that. Lucky we've got the Map to find him, and he won't get far in just an hour. Hey," he said, turning back to Harry, "you said something about the Map earlier. Someone next to us, or something like that?"

Harry thought hard, wondering what was the best course to take. Somehow he didn't think Ron would take kindly to hearing that his rat was actually someone named Peter Pettigrew. Harry wanted to figure out what was going on before he said anything.

"Nothing," he replied quickly. "It's gone now." Harry noticed Hermione watching him with concern, but he mouthed at her, "later." She nodded reluctantly, knowing as well as Harry did that their mission to infiltrate Slytherin House was already behind schedule.

The rest of their trip to the dungeons went without any further incidents. Harry timed things perfectly, bringing the three of them into the stony hallway that opened into the common room just as Draco approached from a different direction. The Invisibility Cloak and the Map were tightly stowed inside Harry's robes, and together the Gryffindors approached their nemesis.

"Ah, so you two were with Pansy?" Malfoy drawled. "I thought you might still be up in the Great Hall. Honestly, you two eat more than a hungry giant."

"Um…" Harry stalled, not sure how to respond. But it seemed that Malfoy didn't notice anything odd about the way he was acting, so perhaps Crabbe and Goyle were often confused by simple comments. Malfoy led them to a blank section of the wall and said, "Pure blood."

Harry shivered with anger at the password, but restrained himself as a hidden stone door swung open. The Slytherin common room was in keeping with the dungeon theme, although green lamps hanging from chains cast enough light to see, and a roaring fireplace gave the stone room a bit of cheer. It was nothing like the Gryffindor common room, but Harry was willing to admit that he was prejudiced.

Hermione wasn't quite sure how to act, because she didn't know how close Pansy normally stayed to Malfoy when they were in the common room. Malfoy solved that problem by arching an eyebrow at her expectantly. "What are you waiting for, Parkinson?" he drawled. "I'm talking with Crabbe and Goyle."

Hermione started violently, and stammered that she was sorry. She began to move away and give the three of them some privacy. Harry coughed, interrupting her. He walked over and took the Marauders' Map out of his inner pocket. It looked like an innocent role of parchment, so Malfoy wouldn't suspect a thing. "Thanks for lending us your notes, Pansy," Harry said in his new growly voice. With his back to Malfoy, Harry risked making a motion with his hand, like he was checking a watch.

Hermione's eyes widened as she understood what Harry wanted. While they talked to Malfoy, she would be the lookout. She would keep time and make sure they left before the potion wore off, and she would use the Marauders' Map to ensure that nothing disastrous happened, like the real Pansy coming back or the unconscious Crabbe and Goyle waking up.

Hermione nodded, communicating with her eyes that she understood. "No problem."

Malfoy looked oddly at Harry. "Goyle, are you studying now? Don't work too hard – you'll hurt your brain."

"I… I just…" Harry muttered, wracking his brain frantically, "…didn't want to fail."

"Oh, is it that bad?" Draco said, a faint sneer appearing on his face. "I thought you two were scraping by all right. I've let you copy my homework enough that you should be doing just fine."

Harry shrugged, not wanting to stay on this topic any longer than necessary. Draco appeared to remember something, and turned to face Ron. "Did you do what I asked you to?" he demanded.

"I, uh-" Ron stammered, looking like he'd been punched unexpectedly in the gut. "What?"

"Come on," Draco snarled, "don't tell me you forgot already? I asked you to check with Filch to see if anything's been happening to my mail."

"Oh, I, um… forgot…" Ron finished lamely. Draco was annoyed, but didn't seem all that surprised. "I'll do it first thing tomorrow!" Ron promised.

"Make sure you do," Malfoy said firmly. "I'm sure something's wrong. Father usually sends me updates from work, and my mother never goes a week without sending a care package. But it's been almost a month, and there's been nothing."

Malfoy's expression was slightly… disappointed, making Harry feel something almost like pity. His jaw dropped, so shocked was he at this disruption of the natural order of things.

Harry had never before considered that Draco could experience an emotion as normal as missing his mother. In fact, thinking of Draco as actually having a mother was strange as well. A pet dragon, perhaps, or a hidden dungeon under his manor in which he tortured Muggles for sport – but not a mother that sent him care packages.

But Malfoy erased the seed of pity that Harry was beginning to feel with his next words. "I was hoping my father might send me more information on what happened the last time the Chamber of Secrets opened."

Ron shared a shocked look with Harry. "The last time?"

"That's right," Draco said. "The Chamber was opened fifty years ago. But last time, a student died. I wonder if that will happen this time, now that the basilisk's dead. The Heir will have to come up with something new. Oh, I wish I knew who it was!" he cried out in sudden frustration. "I could help them!"

That was it – Harry didn't care if Malfoy had a thousand mothers, and loved every single one of them. He was a foul little git who hated anyone different from himself.

Harry tried to fish for a little more information. "You don't have any idea who it is?"

"How many times have I told you?" Malfoy demanded. "You know I haven't a clue. But if the Heir is a true Slytherin, he'll find a way to weed out the Mudbloods without the Basilisk's help. All it takes is one lesson, and they'll go running. The Board would sack Dumbledore right away. Maybe we'll get lucky, and the Heir will make an example of that jumped-up Mudblood Granger," he said with a vindictive sneer.

Ron took a step toward Malfoy before he could stop himself, his face suffused with rage. Harry grabbed his arm quickly, hoping Malfoy wouldn't catch on. "What's the matter with you?" Malfoy demanded, staring at Ron as if he had grown an extra head.

"…stomachache…" Ron muttered through clenched teeth. Harry realized with regret that they wouldn't learn anything more from Malfoy. He didn't know how much time was left in their hour, but it wasn't much. Even if they loitered in the common room for another couple of minutes, they wouldn't come any closer to the identity of the Heir of Slytherin. That meant that now was the time to get out.

"I'll take you to the Hospital Wing," Harry said to Ron, winking at him subtly. It took his friend a second to catch on, but when he did he threw himself into the act, holding his stomach and groaning convincingly.

"Yeah…good idea, it really hurts."

Malfoy dismissed them with a snort, saying that it was no wonder Crabbe had a stomachache when he ate so much at the Feast. Harry left, still clutching Ron's arm as his friend had not gotten over the comment about Hermione. Hermione saw them leaving and gathered her things surreptitiously, rolling up the Marauders' Map and heading casually for the door.

Once clear of the common room they ran out of the dungeons, paused long enough to leave Crabbe and Goyle's shoes outside the broom closet in which they were trapped, and ascended the stairs to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

By that time they were back to their normal selves – the reversion process went much more smoothly than the original transformation. Hermione began cleaning out the inside of the cauldron by casting Scourgify, while Ron and Harry quickly put on their shoes.

"He's not the Heir," Harry told Hermione bitterly. "Said he doesn't have a clue who it is."

"What a waste of effort," Ron said with disgust. He hurried to clarify as Hermione looked up with outrage. "I don't mean it wasn't a good idea!" He waved his hands in front of him like a shield. "It was brilliant, I just wish it had helped us learn something."

Hermione let out a sigh, seeming to deflate before their eyes. "I guess it was a little too obvious to be Malfoy. He hasn't exactly been subtle about his hatred of Muggleborns. The Heir is probably much more circumspect. It might not even be a Slytherin at all!"

But Harry wasn't really concerned with the Heir anymore. His mind had been largely preoccupied with something else, ever since Scabbers had run away after hearing the name "Peter Pettigrew." He promised himself that he was going to get to the bottom of this mystery.

oOoOo

It wasn't long after they returned to Gryffindor Tower that Ron forgot about his disappointment that Malfoy wasn't the Heir, and remembered about his runaway rat.

"Where is he, Harry?" Ron asked, a little fear creeping into his voice. "You tracked him on the Map, didn't you?"

Harry had been dreading this question, for he had indeed been keeping an eye on where Peter Pettigrew's name was. And as of five minutes after they left the Slytherin common room, he couldn't find the name anywhere on the Map. There was no "Scabbers" anywhere, either. Harry feared that Ron's rat had scarpered.

"I, uh, don't see him anywhere," Harry stammered, feeling terrible. If they had chased after Scabbers instead of going on their useless mission to Slytherin House, then Ron wouldn't have lost his pet and they might be able to figure out the mystery of Peter Pettigrew.

Ron snatched the Marauders' Map away from Harry hastily, his face growing redder with each second as he scanned the parchment desperately for his lost rat.

"I don't understand," he muttered. "He's just a little rat – he couldn't have gone far. Oh, no… there's Mrs. Norris! D'ye reckon-"

"No way, Ron," Hermione declared firmly. "There's no way one wizard's familiar would eat another, I'm sure of it. There have to be loads of places in this castle that aren't on the Map. Scabbers is so small he could even be in the walls, or something. We'll find him, never fear! Neville is always losing Trevor, but he always comes back!"

Ron looked marginally more comforted when she mentioned Trevor's recurring disappearing acts, but as long as Scabbers was gone he was incapable of thinking or talking of anything else. Finally he stalked out of the Tower while clutching the Marauder's Map in white-knuckled fingers, determined to find his rat. They could hear his shouts of "Scabbers" even through the portrait of the Fat Lady, gradually growing weaker as he moved farther away.

The moment they couldn't hear his voice any more, Hermione rounded on Harry. "Spill!" she said. "You were holding out on Ron earlier. What's this about? Do you know why Scabbers ran away?"

Harry sighed unhappily. He felt terrible about not telling Ron the truth, but things would be much less complicated if he knew the whole story before he shared any suspicions with Ron. The poor boy really did love his rat.

"Remember when I said the Map was showing another person next to us?" he asked. Hermione nodded, eyes wide. "Well, when I said the name – Peter Pettigrew – that was exactly when Scabbers bit Ron and ran away." Hermione gasped, seeing where this was going. "That's right," Harry confirmed. "I checked the Map, and the name Peter Pettigrew left in the exact same direction as Scabbers, at the same time. There was no name for 'Scabbers,' just this Peter fellow. I think they're the same."

"But how…" Hermione started to ask, but her mind was already racing. Harry knew that she would figure out the possible implications much quicker than he could. "Scabbers must be Peter Pettigrew, whoever he is," she said at last. "Which means Scabbers isn't a rat at all – if he was just a rat, his name would be what Ron calls him. I mean, Hedwig shows up as Hedwig on the Map, right?"

Harry nodded, having checked this surreptitiously after leaving the Slytherin common room.

"So that means that Ron's rat is actually a person," Hermione said, horrified.

"That's the only explanation I can think of," Harry agreed, "and if so, it's a person that doesn't want to be found. Scabbers ran away when I said the name – that means he's keeping his identity secret for some reason."

Hermione looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Ron probably won't believe us unless we have proof," she said worriedly. "Especially since he's already angry at us for deciding not to chase Scabbers after he ran away."

She was right, which was exactly why Harry hadn't said anything to Ron in the first place. "We're just going to have to find proof," he declared. "There's two weeks left before next term starts, right? We'll have all the time we need to do research. If we found Nicholas Flamel, we can find Peter Pettigrew. What do you say?"

Hermione squared her shoulders with determination. "I'm in." Then she laughed, startling Harry out of his suspicious thoughts about rats in disguise. "Wow, Harry, I must be rubbing off on you - I never thought you'd want to spend Christmas break in the library!"