Here's the newest chapter for the "Harry Potter: the Serpent Lord", enjoy! This chapter is also a bit bigger than normal, to make up for the last one. =)

* Review response:
obsessivegirl73, thanks and no, I didn't.
Naginator, Highvalour, kazikamikaze24, Lupinesence, GoldenGod Rah, Penny is wise, Hanzo of the Salamander, gsteemso, thank you, folks!
c0dy88, thanks for noticing the errors. =)
Aura Knight-Lyrin, well, he is 12.
CrimsontheBloodyDemonKing, Harry is already suspicious of that, but the charms will be there for some more time.
Victorules, "Ronin" will be updated later today.
Still Not Dead Yet, do understand me right, Draconica is very capable in dark arts (theoretically - she is 12 (too)), but she is also quite good with 'light' arts and, actually, uses both almost equally in 'daily life', which is why she is lighter version of Daphne

* Disclaimer: I DO NOT own "Harry Potter" and its characters in any shape or form.

"human speech"
"wraith speech"
'human thoughts'
"spells / parseltongue"

This chapter was not beta-read. Yet.

chapter 17: The writing on the wall

October was coming to an end, spreading damn chill over the Hogwarts, and the rains were thundering against the castle's windows for days on end, causing the Black lake to rise to start flooding the grounds nearby... Students too were affected by the rain, as a lot of them were now busying madam Pomfrey with the spate of colds and general dampened mood...

A week before Halloween, Hagrid invited the 'golden trio' to see the pumpkins he had grown for the holiday. Finding a moment when it wasn't raining, Harry, Neville and Hermione slipped onto the Hogwarts' grounds to visit their half-giant friend... The pumpkins, indeed, were incredible, each the size of a garden shed, but the trio had some suspicions that some enlargement charms were used on them.

The rain started again and the trio, who made a mistake of not taking an umbrella with them, had to retreat to Hugrid's hut. Now they were having some tea, waiting for the rain to stop or at least not to rain pitchforks, while discussing various foods they were eating at Hogwarts.

"Did anyone notice that we have been having chicken a lot more often recently?" Neville asked, and his friends, after thinking for a moment, agreed with him. Hagrid looked uneasy for a couple of seconds, before replying.

"Someone 'as started killing the roosters at 'ogwarts." The giant man said. "I'd say that it's either foxes or a blood-sucking bugbear... Headmaster said dat 'e will 'ave professor Flitwick put some charms to protect the rest,.." The trio looked at each other: something was killing the roosters at Hogwarts? "But 'nuf about dat. Are you three looking forward ter pumpkin pies dis Halloween?" The half-giant asked, trying to change the subject.

"Those are always the greatest!" The scion of house Longbottom exclaimed, deciding that they shouldn't question Hagrid about this, lest any other facts surface.

"Yeah, but I don't know whether I want to go to the feast..." Harry added. The half-giant looked at him questioningly.

"And why is that, 'arry?" Then he remembered why. "Sorry, forgot about dat." The Hogwarts groundskeeper then looked at the clock on the wall of his hut. It was almost four in the evening. "You should be returning to the castle." He said, while getting an umbrella – not his pink one, but a much larger dark-gray one. "I will bring you to the front door."

Mysterious voice that only he could hear, someone – he didn't believe that it was an animals' doing – killing roosters... Harry hoped that whatever was happening at Hogwarts this year would go around him: he had already faced enough dangers for a lifetime and didn't need or want any more...

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On Sunday Harry, and the rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team had a training, despite the awful rain and cold wind: Oliver Wood, being his normal overly-enthusiastic self, decided that bad weather wasn't a reason to cancel the training session. At least they finished earlier today... While the team was showing their captain how much they enjoyed flying through the rainstorm, the young Potter, who didn't want to be a part of murder case, quickly returned to the castle.

As he was walking back to the Gryffindor tower, in one of the corridors he came across Nearly Headless Nick, who was staring morosely out of the window and muttering something under his breath.

"...Don't fulfill their requirements... half an inch, if that..." Harry heard as he approached the ghost. But sir Nicolas heard him approaching and, folding a transparent letter, turned around. "You don't look happy, young Potter." The Gryffindor ghost commented. The green-eyed boy's clothes and the broomstick were enough to guess why he appeared so gloomy.

"Hello, Nick. You don't appear happy either." Harry replied.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance... It's not as though I really wanted to join... Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements'." In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face. Then the ghost sighed and retold a shortened version of the story of his beheading – with Harry making sounds of agreement in the right places – before reading out aloud the part of the letter about 'not fulfilling requirements' and ranting a little more about his decapitation...

"Well, there is something that they don't have that makes you special, sir Nickolas." The young Potter said, deciding that he needed to raise the ghost's spirit.

"Half an inch of skin and sinew that holds my neck on?" Nearly Headless Nick asked. Harry shook his head, making his ghostly companion look at him with some interest.

"No. They might not let you join their hunts, but... How many of them can claim that they personally are kind of a symbol of a thousand years old school?" The green-eyed wizard replied. Sir Nickolas thought about this for a second, before smiling a bit.

"You are right, young Potter, you are right. Thank you." Forgetting about his status of a ghost, Nick tried to shook Harry's hand, but only managed to make the boy feel chill as he passed through him. The ghost than apologized for this mishap. "Hmm... This Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday. I'm holding a party at one of the roomier dungeons; friends of mine from all over the country will be there... You are welcome to attend, young Potter. Your friends are welcome too..."

"I''d be happy to attend your deathday party..." Harry replied, trying to sound as politely as he could. "But would living humans be OK with the rest of your guests?" Nearly Headless Nick looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Yes, you are right. I didn't think about this. If sir Patrick and his headless hunters will come, there might be a discomfiture... But if still you want to come, you are, of course, welcome." Harry nodded appreciatively.

"Thank you, sir Nickolas." Then the young wizard looked down at his clothes. Those were still a bit wet, despite the drying charms he had cast on them when he entered the castle. "If you would excuse me, I'd like to get back to the tower and change into something dry, before I catch cold." The ghost nodded.

"Of course, young Potter, I shouldn't delay you any longer." Nodding a thank you to Nearly Headless Nick, Harry continued on his way to the Gryffindor dormitories...

~/ *** \~

As Halloween was approaching, the feeling that something bad will happen on that day grew stronger within Harry. Of course, Hermione and Neville were saying that this was stupid and bad things don't always happen (to him) on Halloween, but that didn't help the green-eyed youth much. But they at least agreed that the deathday party wasn't a place for a living human to be, no matter how much Hermione wanted to go there, curios about the event...

Finally, October 31st arrived, and everyone was anticipating the glorious Halloween feast that evening. The Great Hall and many other public places, save for the library, had been decorated with the usual live bats; Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment...

Soon, sooner than he would have liked, as he still had the feeling that something bad would happen tonight, Harry found himself among his housemates, sitting at the Gryffindor table and listening to the headmaster's pre-feast speech... After a couple of minutes, Dumbledore finished his speech and the feast started.

The rumors about the dancing skeletons were proven correct, as next to the professors' table there were three wizards in black cloaks with hoods, that were controlling a group of 'skeletons' with their wands, making them play various tunes – at least their playlist was good, and not something like fingernails scraping a blackboard...

And the feast itself was great, possibly even better than the one at the beginning of the school year; the dishes were piled with food of any kind, though the pumpkin-related things were the dominating theme, of course... As Harry ate the delicious meal, the feeling that he had for last several days dulled a bit, but never disappeared...

The feast came to an end, and the students started leaving the Great hall as they were returning to the dormitories. The 'golden trio' was walking among the firsts of their house, but still behind most of the student body, so when the groups in front of them suddenly stopped, they had a hard time seeing the reason for that. Still, Harry, Neville and Hermione managed to push through most of the crowd, to see, what caused this pandemonium: the floor was flooded there and the wall next to girls' toilet (which was rarely used because of the ghost – moaning Myrtle – haunting it) had foot-high words daubed on it in red, blood-like paint that shimmered in the lights of many torches.

"The chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware." Hermione read out quietly. "Is this Chamber of Secrets even real? 'Hogwarts: a history' has nothing but a legend about it, I'm sure about that." Her to friends only shrugged: they knew nothing about this chamber as well... While they were thinking about what this Chamber of Secrets is, Basilius Malfoy pushed to the front of the cround.

"Enemies of the heir, beware!" He read out loudly, and in such a voice that one could think he was reading a paper proclaiming him the reincarnation of Merlin. "You'll be next, mudbloods! Hogwarts will finally be cleansed of your filth!" He added just as loudly; his cold eyes alive and his normally pale face flushed. Then the youngest Malfoy saw something and grinned even more... Following his line of sight, everyone saw saw an immobile cat that belonged to Argus Filch, hanging by its tail on one of the torches. Using his wand to levitate the poor creature down, Basilius 'studied' it, his face looking like that was a pile dung and not a cat. "Dead. Killed by the heir." He made his verdict. "Everyone, see this: this is what will happen to those who aren't of pure blood!" Several of the less intelligent pureblood supremacist booed in agreement... The school caretaker was now heard approaching in his flat-footed run, and the Malfoy heir decided that being caught with the cat held by his magic wouldn't do him any good... He quickly found his victim in the crowd. "This filth should complement your own dirtied blood... Potter, catch!" And he made the cat fly towards the green-eyed Gryffindor wizard... Thanks to his seeker reflexes, Harry caught the cat without even thinking. And while he was pondering on what to do with it, he suddenly felt a strong one-handed grip on his neck.

"You killed my cat! You've murdered her!" Argus Filch screeched as he lifted the young Potter into the air by his neck. "I'll kill you! I'll..." Seeing that the man was going to kill her friend for real, Hermione tried to save Harry.

"B-but... He didn't... He didn't do anything to your cat..." The caretaker looked at the bookish girl.

"Trying to cover your accomplice, are we? I'll kill you too! I'll have your head for what you did to my Mrs Norris..." Filch continued screeching, enjoying the look of horror on Hermione's face – and he still had Harry in the air with his hand on boy's neck...

"But they really didn't do anything to your cat, mr. Filch!" Neville came forward to protect his friends. The caretaker slowly turned his head to look at him.

"And you too? You too helped murder my cat? I'll... I'll... I'll have you hanged in the Great hall! You will make a good example of what happens to those who commit crimes against the school!" Argus Filch continued screeching... Thankfully for Harry, the professors, led by Dumbledore himself, arrived to the scene.

"Argus!" The ancient headmaster said, his voice radiating power. Filch made a face like the Christmas was canceled, but let Harry go... The young Potter fell on the floor, coughing and breathing hungrily, while nursing his neck... Dumbledore walked up to the green-eyed boy and picked the cat up, before casting a charm to help Harry's neck a little.

"Come with me, Argus." He said to Filch. "Mr. Potter, you too." The scion of house Potter wanted to ask why him, but he still was in no condition to do so... Meanwhile, Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is the nearest, headmaster – just upstairs – please, feel free to use it." Dumbledore nodded and headed there; Lockhart, looking exited and important, hurried after him; so did professors McGonnagal and Snape and Filch. Harry forced himself to stand up and headed after the adults. Hermione and Neville tried to follow their friend, but were stopped by Percy the prefect... The crowd, seeing no more source of entertainment there, started dissipating.

After Lockhart lit the candles on his desk, lighting his previously darkened office, Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. The tip of his long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonnagal was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"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 counter-curse that would have saved her..." Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs: the caretaker was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry, who had mostly recovered by now, couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him... At last Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead, Argus," The headmaster said softly. Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" Choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all... all stiff and frozen?" Ha asked.

"She has been Petrified. But how, I cannot say..." Dumbledore said, while the (useless) DADA professor was exclaiming that it was just how he thought.

"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tear-stained face to Harry.

"No second year could have done this," The ancient man said firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced..." The Hogwarts caretaker, though, didn't believe him.

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face turning purple. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He and his little friends of..." Professor McGonnagal coughed, 'telling' Filch to shut up and don't accuse her lions of things they didn't do.

"I willing to swear an oath that neither myself, nor ms. Granger or mr. Longbottom did anything to your cat. Or wrote anything on the wall." The scion of house Potter said as firmly as he could in his current condition. Dumbledore shook his head.

"There is no need for that, Harry. As I said, no second year, not even as knowledgeable as ms. Granger, could have have done this." The green-eyed wizard allowed himself to sigh in relief.

"But my cat has been Petrified!" Filch shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishments!" He paused for a moment to take a breath. "And this brat was the one who had my Mrs. Norris!" The headmaster shook his head.

"I know that mr. Potter didn't do this and was merely a victim of circumstances. I won't punish my students for what they didn't do." Filch grunted in displeasure: the man wanted someone – anyone – to be punished in the most gruesome way for what happened to his Precious. "We will be able to cure her, Argus." Dumbledore said 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." The Hogwarts caretaker nodded slowly, obviously wishing for the potion to be ready as soon as possible.

"I'll make it!" Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep and..."

"Excuse me..." said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school." There was a very awkward pause. Dumbledore coughed.

"Harry, you may go." He said... The young Potter nodded and quickly – but not running – left Lockhart's office and headed beck to the Gryffindor tower: the investigation of what happened to Filch's cat took a couple of hours, and it was already past curfew. The last thing he needed right now was getting a detention for being out late...

~/ *** \~

Theodore Nott was pacing in his room in the Slytherin dungeons: he had had an almost foolproof plan to remove the Malfoy brat from his position of the 'leader'... But the appearance of this mysterious heir of Slytherin destroyed this plan completely: Basilius managed to get a lot of extra support with his stupid ideas of removing anyone that didn't have pure blood – someone of a lower status was needed to do the dirty work, but it seemed that only few understood this.

And so Theodore was thinking of another way, the one that took the appearance of the Slytherin heir in account, to give him the leadership back... In the end, when it was nearly one in the morning, the young Nott created new plan. It would take a lot of time and work to remove the support Malfoy heir had right now, but the older boy was sure that he would succeed...

~/ *** \~

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the recent attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back... Many students, Harry included, had seen the caretaker scrubbing the Slytherin heir's 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 too loudly' and 'looking happy'...

Many students, the younger ones especially, were disturbed by the fact that someone dark and powerful enough to cast petrifying curse was in the castle. Among the Gryffindor students Ron's younger sister, Ginny Weasley, was worried the most about what had happened to Mrs. Norris: the girl was a great cat lover. Her brothers and classmates were trying to calm the young witch done, all with different levels of success (or, like Ron with this tactless jokes, made the situation worse).

Hermione Granger was also affected by the heir's message, but in a different way: the bushy-haired girl, it seemed, made it her personal mission to read all books in the library that had anything on the history of Hogwarts, and learn as much as possible about this Chamber of Secrets... Unfortunately, she couldn't find much. Other than the legend from the 'Hogwarts: a history', retold in different variations in several books, the only thing she had found was the rumor that the Chamber of Secrets supposedly had been opened half a century ago. But trying to learn more about that yielded no results. The Chamber of Secrets was still a secret...

That's all, folks!
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