disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella and her story. Hope you all like it!
The Writing on the Wall
"What's going on here? What's going on?"
Filch pushed 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 eyes then fell on Harry. "You! 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 Arabella, Harry, Hermione and Ron and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.
"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Miss Black, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."
Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My office is nearest, Headmaster – just upstairs – please feel free –"
"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.
The crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, hurried after Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape. Arabella, Harry, Hermione and Ron walked behind them.
Arabella quickly grabbed onto Harry's arm and brought him closer to her.
"Don't mention the voices," she whispered. Harry looked at her. "Trust me."
As they entered Lockhart's dark office, there was a flutter of movements on the wall. Several Lockhart portraits were moving out of sight. The real Lockhart lit candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Arabella, Hermione, Harry and Ron exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs, watching their teachers. Dumbledore was looking at Mrs. Norris closely, occasionally poking, while McGonagall followed suit, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, wearing an expression as though he wanted to smile. 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 countercurse that would have saved her…."
Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Arabella might hate the man, but she surely felt sorry for him, but not nearly as much. Filch already started pointing fingers and if Dumbledore believed him, they were going to be in trouble.
Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.
"… I remember something very similar happening in Ougadogou," said Lockhart, "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…"
At last Dumbledore straightened up.
"She's not dead, Argus," he 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?"
"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore. "But how, I cannot say…."
"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his red face towards Harry.
"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!" spat Filch. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found – in my office – he knows I'm a – I'm a – He knows I'm a Squib!"
Arabella was taken back. A Squib? Really? Everyone was now looking at Harry and he became considerably uncomfortable.
"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly. "And I don't even know what a Squib is!"
"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"
"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape. Arabella wanted to groan loudly. Nothing good was surely to come from Snape intervening. "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?"
They launched into an explanation of the deathday party.
"There were hundreds of ghosts," said Harry, "they'll tell you we were there –"
"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape. "Why go up to that corridor?"
Arabella spoke quickly. "Because we were tired and wanted to go to bed. We were surrounded by ghost the whole night and it was tiring."
"Without any super?" said Snape. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."
"We weren't hungry," said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble.
Snape's nasty smile widened and Arabella rushed on, "There were a lot of rotten and moldy food at the party – it was quite off putting."
But Snape's smile never fluttered. "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter and his friends are not being entirely truthful. 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, as for the rest of them –"
"Really, Severus," said McGonagall 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."
Dumbledore searched Harry's face for a moment before firmly saying, "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus."
Snape and Filch looked furious.
"My cat has been Petrified!" shrieked Filch. "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," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep —"
"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."
There was a very awkward pause.
"You may go," Dumbledore said to Arabella, Hermione, Harry and Ron.
They went as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Harry turned to Arabella, squinting to find her face.
"Why did you tell me not to tell them about the voice?"
"Because hearing voices is not common in the wizarding world."
"You do believe me, don't you?"
"Of course," Arabella said without any hesitation.
"But you have to admit, it's a bit weird," said Ron.
"I know t's weird," said Harry. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? 'The Chamber Has Been Opened'…. What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once… might've been Bill…"
"And what on earth's a Squib?" said Harry.
Arabella punched Ron's arm when he sniggered.
"It's not funny, Ron," she said. "A Squib is someone who is born into a wizarding family but doesn't have any magical powers. So, almost the opposite of a Muggle-born wizard. Squids are highly unusual."
"If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squid," said Ron. "It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much. He's bitter."
A clock chimed somewhere.
"Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."
As Arabella and Hermione entered their dormitory, Arabella passed her a Chocolate Frog. Lavender and Parvati were looking as them and whispering to each other. Arabella tried to ignore them as she unwrapped her chocolate.
"It's not much," she told Hermione, "but it's better than nothing."
Hermione nodded from her bed and then got up and sat beside Arabella. She leaned in and whispered, "Do you know anything about The Chamber of Secrets?"
Arabella made a face that was somewhere between a 'yes' and a grimace. "I don't know. It sounds familiar. But I have no idea. I think my aunt mentioned something about it once, but I honestly can't remember."
She remember Andromeda mentioning something about it years ago when Nymphadora brought up some sort of chamber. Was it possibly the same one? Did it have some sort of connection to Slytherin himself?
The attack was the talk of the school, and it did not help that Filch kept pacing the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. When he was not guarding the scene of the crime, he was lunging out at students for doing little to nothing. Ginny seemed to be very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a cat lover. The attack seemed to have an effect on Hermione. She was now doing nothing besides spending a lot of time reading.
They were doing their History of Magic homework in the library. They were in the back of the library when Harry finally joined them.
"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches shot…." Said Ron furiously. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny."
"Where is she?" asked Harry.
"Somewhere over there," said Arabella, pointing her thumb over to the shelves.
"Probably looking for another book," said Ron. "I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."
Harry then told them about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him just as he was about to say 'hello.'
"Dunno why you care," said Ron. "I thought he was a bit of an idiot. All that junk about Lockhart being so great –"
Hermione then emerged from the shelves and she looked irritable.
"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books. Say, Arabella –"
"Nope," Arabella said instantly. "I'm going to ask him, Hermione."
"Please, it'll be really –"
"No, Hermione."
"Ask who what?" asked Ron.
"Hermione wants me to ask Remus about The Chamber," said Arabella, "which I will not be doing."
"Why not?"
"It'll be too suspicious, and he's probably not at home right now," said Arabella. "And even if he was, he'll think that I'm snooping around again. And even if I do ask him to send me Hogwarts, A History," she told Hermione, "it's no use. I never read that thing. He'll just be suspicious of everything."
"Why do you want Hogwarts, A History?" asked Harry. "Is this about The Chamber of Secrets?"
"The same reason as everyone else," said Hermione. "I just can't remember, and I can't find the story anywhere else –"
The bell rang and they made their way to History of Magic. It was probably the most dullest class thought by their ghost teacher, Professor Binns. He would open his notes and begin to read in a deep, monotone voice until everyone was in a deep limpness. But today was a little different. Today someone actually put her hand up. It was Hermione.
Binns looked amazed as he glanced up during his lecture of the International Warlock Convention of 1289.
"Miss – er –?"
"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about The Chamber of Secrets."
Dean jerked out of his trance from the window. Lavender's head came off her arms. Neville's elbow slipped off his desk. Arabella, who usually doodled during this class, was now giving Binns her full attention.
"My subject is History of Magic," said Binns in a dry voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He then cleared his throat and turned back to his notes. "In September of that year, a subcommittee –"
Hermione's hand was up again.
"Miss Grant?"
"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"
Binns looked amazed. He then said, slowly, "Well, yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale –"
Arabella then raised her hand carefully and slowly. She winced when Binns said, "Miss Block?"
"Does The Chamber of Secrets have anything to do with Salazar Slytherin?"
The whole class was now looking at Binns, hanging onto every word he was saying. They looked form Arabella to Binns.
Binns then inhaled sharply and said, "Oh, very well…. Let me see…. The Chamber of Secrets…. Hogwarts was founded years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of their age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built the castle together, far from Muggle eyes, for magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution. For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, teaching youngsters who showed magical abilities and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift grew between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be within all-magic families. He didn't like taking in students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on that subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."
Professor Binns paused. "Reliable historical sources tell us this much. But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all those who were unworthy to study magic."
There was silence as he finished the story, but not the usual sleepy kind. It was uneasy as Arabella thought of the horror Slytherin wanted to release into the school.
"The whole thing in arrant nonsense, of course," Binns said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."
Hermione's hand was back in the air.
"Sir – what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"
"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Binns in his dry, reedy voice.
The class exchanged nervous looks.
"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Binns. "There is no Chamber and no monster."
"But, sir," said Seamus, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"
"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Binns, aggravated. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing –"
"But, Professor," said Arabella, "you would have to be related to Slytherin himself or do some sort of Dark Magic to open it because they can probably do some sort –"
"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Block," snapped Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore –"
"But Professor, like Arabella said, you've probably got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't –"began Dean, but Binns had enough.
"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"
And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into it usual inactivity.
"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twister old loony," said Ron. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his House if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home…"
Hermione nodded fervently, but Arabella and Harry said nothing. Arabella never told them that she herself had almost gone into Slytherin. She remembered the small voice in side her head the year before: Blacks have been placed into Slytherin for centuries…. I see determination and raw magic…. You would do well in Slytherin, there is no doubt, many famous witches and wizards were produced there…. I have imagined your mind to be much like your mother's, but I see so much of your father in here….
Perhaps that's what kept her out of Slytherin, her father's mind inside of her. Arabella then shook her head and thought, No, it must be Kassandra and Remus, it must be both of them.
As they were shoved along in the crowd, Colin went past.
"Hiya, Harry!"
"Hullo, Colin."
"Harry – Harry – a boy in my class has been saying you're –" But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall. They heard him squeak, "See you, Harry!" and he was gone.
"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" wondered Hermione.
"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Harry.
"People here'll believe anything," said Ron in disgust.
The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.
"Do you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" asked Ron.
"Yes," said Arabella. They turned to look at her. "No one would just write on the wall like that, and whatever happened to Mrs. Norris, well, it probably wasn't human, was it?"
As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat. The corridor was deserted.
"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Harry. He then dropped his bag and got to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues. "Scorch marks! Here – and here –"
"Come and look at this!" said Hermione. "This is funny…."
Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.
"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?"
"No," said Harry as Arabella shook her head. "Have you, Ron? Ron?"
Arabella looked over her shoulder to see Ron standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.
"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.
"I – don't – like – spiders," said Ron tensely.
"I never knew that," said Hermione, surprised. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times…."
"I don't mind that dead," said Ron, looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move…."
Hermione giggled.
"It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my – my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick… you would like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and…"
He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."
"It was on this floor," said Arabella, pointing to the area past Filch's chair. "At that door."
Ron composed himself and walked a few paces around Filch's chair. He reached for the doorknob and suddenly withdrew his hand.
"What's the matter?" said Harry.
"Can't go in there," said Ron. "That's the girl's toilet."
"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look."
They ignored the large OUT OF ORDER sign and opened the door. It was a gloomy washroom with large, cracked mirrors and chipped sinks. The floor was damp and there was a reflection of dull light from the candles. Hermione put her finger to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it, she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"
Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin. "This is a girl's bathroom." She was eyeing Harry and Ron suspiciously. "They're not girls."
"Does it matter?" asked Arabella. "There's an out of order sign on the door."
"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry whispered in Arabella's left ear. She blushed fiercely and grimaced.
"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at Harry.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "We wanted to ask –"
"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle. She was about to cry, Arabella could tell. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead –"
"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," said Hermione. "Harry only –"
"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"
"We just wanted to know if you've seen anything strange lately," said Arabella quickly. "Because a cat was attacked right outside the door on Halloween."
"Did you see anything near here that night?" said Harry.
"I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle dramatically. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm – that I'm –"
"Already dead," said Ron helpfully.
Arabella groaned and smacked herself on the face. Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air and turned over, and then dived headfirst into the toilet. Toilet water splashed all over them and Myrtle vanished from sight.
Harry and Ron stood there with their mouths open, but Arabella and Hermione shrugged.
"Honestly," said Hermione, "that was almost cheerful for Myrtle…. Come on, let's go."
Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's bathroom when a loud voice made all of them jump.
"RON!"
Percy had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge shining, an expression of complete shock on his face.
"That's a girl's bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you –?"
"Just having a look around," said Ron, shrugging. "Clues –"
"They just wanted to see Myrtle," said Arabella quickly.
But the damage was done. Percy heard the word clues and he swelled up.
"Get — away — from — there —" Percy said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner —"
"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"
"That's what I told Ginny," said Percy fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her, all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business —"
"You don't care about Ginny," said Ron, his ear red. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chance of being Head Boy –"
"Five points from Gryffindor!" said Percy tensely, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope this teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!"
And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.
That night, they chose seats as far from Percy as possible in the common room. Ron was still in a bad temper. He kept making smudges on his Charm's homework, and then he went to remove it with his wand, it set on fire. Fuming, Ron slammed his book shut, and Hermione followed suit.
"Who can it be, though?" she asked quietly. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"
"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"
"My family," said Arabella absentmindedly. "People in Azkaban, Vol –"
"Arabella!" said Ron and Hermione at the same time.
Harry looked at Ron. "If you're talking about Malfoy –"
"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him – You'll be next, Mudbloods! – come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him –"
"It's not him," said Arabella, shaking her head. "He's not the Heir of Slytherin."
"Look at his family," said Harry. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin –"
"So has my family," said Arabella.
"But he's always boasting about it," continued Harry. "They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His family's definitely evil enough."
"Be that as it may, that could mean the same for a lot of pure-blood families," said Arabella. "The Blacks, the Lestranges, the Notts, and so on. If he was the Heir of Slytherin, don't you think he would go around telling everyone that?"
"Who knows what goes on inside his head," said Harry. "His mum or dad probably told him to keep it a secret."
"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son…."
"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible…."
"You can't be serious!" said Arabella, furious. "He's no more the Heir to Slytherin than I am!"
"But it's hard to prove it, isn't it?" asked Hermione. Arabella glared at her. "Well, Slytherin himself lived centuries ago. There is a chance that any one of us are his descendants. I could even be a descendent through some sort of Squid ancestor or something, you never know."
"Isn't it worth trying to find out?" asked Harry.
Arabella sighed and closed her book as well. She took another deep breath and said, "There is one way, I've made it once, but it is very difficult and very dangerous."
"What is it?" asked Hermione, eyeing Arabella suspiciously.
Arabella glanced at Percy. She then leaned on her seat and the others followed suit. "Polyjuice Potion."
Hermione's eyes widened alarmingly. "But – but we'd be breaking about fifty different school rules –"
"It's the only way," said Arabella gravely.
"The danger – the rules – "
"When you two are done, do you mind letting us in on it?" said Ron irritably.
Arabella sighed and said, "Polyjuice Potion transforms you into someone else. All we have to do, once we take it, is to change into four Slytherins and no one will know. We go in and ask Malfoy a few questions. If he's not going around the school bragging about it, he'll probably be doing it in his common room."
"When did you ever make it?" asked Hermione.
"Nymphadora was making it for her Auror training – it's kind of like the police," said Arabella when Harry opened his mouth. "It's part of her training requirement, even though she doesn't really need to use it. So before she had to do it in front of her trainer, she practiced it with me. She's horrible at Potions and needed some help, and I was the only one willing to do it."
"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we're stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?"
"It wears off after a while," said Hermione. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. I don't suppose you could ask your family?"
She looked at Arabella, who shook her head. "They'll want to know what I'm up to. I'm sorry."
"Well, Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."
"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron. "If we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."
"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance…."
"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick…."
"Arabella, there's a letter for you on your table," said Parvati as Arabella got in her bed. "Came for you after dinner."
"Thanks, Parvati," said Arabella. She got up and grabbed the envelope. It was from Remus. She opened and read.
Dear Arabella,
I'm doing good. Yes, I am taking care of myself. The house seems very lonely without constantly badgering me.
I am glad to hear you opening up to one of your friends. From what you've told me about Hermione, she sounds like a lovely person and a good friend. I am glad to hear that you stood up for her. That sort of pure-blood prejudice is absolutely disgusting. Though I wish you did not punch the boy in the nose, I am also glad you did not stand by and do nothing. He might be Lucius's son, but violence is not always the answer. I doubt Draco will tell anyone, including his father.
If you are ready to tell your other friends, then I think you should. I never told my friends about my problem until they found out during our second year. I don't regret them finding out, but I wished I told them instead of them doing their own detective work. When you're ready, you should tell them, but not too into the future. You don't want to tell them when you're in your fifth or sixth year. If you trust them enough, you would want them to know.
I miss you too. Sometimes I wish I was with you as well, especially after hearing this. Dora's training is going well, though she's sort of on Mad-Eye's good side, and she's also not. She's one of the best in her class, but she goofs around a lot, and you know what Mad-Eye's like. She tried to make him laugh and that did not work out too well for her. Andromeda and Ted are going to Italy for Christmas this year and Dora will be busy with her training as well. Unfortunately, I will also be somewhere too. I will be going somewhere near York for a new job. I hope you don't mind, but it's a good deal and it's only for a couple months. I'll be back in time for when you get back. I'm so sorry. I will make it up to you.
Love, Remus.
Arabella sighed and nodded along the last couple words. Another Christmas without Remus, but it was necessary. He had a job to do, and if she was being honest with herself, she was going to write to him to stay back anyway. This just made it easier.
Hermione was lying on her bed, but she was not sleeping. She tapped Hermione on the shoulders and motioned towards the bathroom. They entered and turned on the shower. Lavender and Parvati were asleep, but this was just a precaution.
"Everything all right?" asked Hermione.
Arabella nodded. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. The letter's from Remus. He has to go somewhere for a job, so I'll be here for Christmas. We can start making the Polyjuice as soon as we get the recipe and ingredients."
"And we'll be able to get into the Slytherin common room by Christmas Day," said Hermione.
"Exactly," said Arabella. "But we'll need to find a way to knock the people we're going to turn into out. Just in case they're here when we do it."
"How about a Sleeping Drought?" said Hermione. "We should be able to make one pretty fast, but how are we going to be able to get the person to take it? It's not as though they're going to agree to it willingly."
"We'll figure that out later," said Arabella. "We first have to worry about the Polyjuice Potion and getting the ingredients and recipe."
Arabella then let out a big yawn and they both headed for bed. She could barely sleep as so many scenarios were running through her mind. If Malfoy was related to Salazar Slytherin, and that's a big if, then… was she related to him? Blacks and Malfoys have been related for years, centuries probably, could that mean…
She quickly turned in her bed and buried her head under her pillow. Blacks have been placed into Slytherin for centuries…. You would do well in Slytherin….
If Malfoy was related to Salazar Slytherin, and if she was as well, then perhaps she should have been put into House Slytherin.
Thank you so much for reading! Tell me what you guys think!