October 31, 1996
The Great Hall was filled with students. A few Professors and House-Elves were moving about and setting up the Halloween decorations. Large pumpkins had been charmed to float in the air with a mix of candles and fog. Along the centre of each table was a mess of supplies that students that were helping to decorate had laid out.
Harry had come into the Great Hall for his lunch and had to make some room for himself on the Ravenclaw table. He cleared away the mess and pulled out his Herbology essay. He had finished it the night before but had decided it would be best to go over it again before he handed it in. With his mind being so focused on his apprenticeship, Harry had been double-checking his other class assignments. Not that his grades had slipped in any way, but he spent so much time grinding his teeth over obvious mistakes that other students made in their own work, he'd become a little self-conscious about his own.
Taking a bite out of the chicken sandwich he had chosen for his lunch, he glanced up at Dylan, who was sitting across from him. His friend had started to seem more like himself lately, but throughout most of the day, he had seemed a little dazed. Dylan was currently staring at his Charms essay with a look of confusion. Professor Flitwick had handed back their essays that morning; both Harry and Dylan had received outstandings, so Harry wasn't too certain why Dylan looked so worried.
Swallowing his mouthful, Harry asked, "Were you expecting a worse grade than what Flitwick gave you?"
Dylan slowly looked up. He said, "No."
"Then why are you staring at your essay so intently? Are you trying to develop a wandless spell that you haven't mentioned?" asked Harry.
Dylan shook his head. "No."
"Then what is going on in that head of yours?"
Dylan rolled up his essay and then leant his elbows on the table. "I realised something, and I don't know if I should be concerned or excited."
Harry wanted to pry but didn't know if he should.
"I think I have a crush," added Dylan.
Harry couldn't stop the smile that graced his lips. Much like himself, Dylan had never really experienced a proper relationship. Harry's past with girls had been almost non-existent before Fleur, but Dylan was even less so. Not once had he ever shown that he had taken a liking to anyone.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Dylan leant back and frowned at his friend.
"Because you have never really shown interest in anyone before," explained Harry.
Dylan ran his tongue across his teeth and said, "Neither had you, before Fleur."
"Yeah, but I had this theory that you couldn't feel those types of emotions," Harry teased.
Dylan rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks!"
Harry chuckled. "I'm just teasing. Who is it?"
Dylan pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, I'm not saying."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't need your mockery."
"What is Harry mocking you for this time?" Jenna appeared beside Dylan and took a seat. "Because if it's about how picky you are with your handwriting, then can I just add that no one else cares."
Harry chuckled again.
Dylan frowned. "I made one comment, one time, and you never let it go."
Jenna smiled and shrugged. "But back to today, what did I miss?"
"Nothing," grumbled Dylan.
Harry smirked. "Dylan's got a crush."
Jenna's eyes went wide. "Who is she?" She grasped his shoulder and gently shook him.
"I'm not telling."
"Why not?" Jenna pouted.
"Because I don't know if it's a real thing or a passing fancy," explained Dylan.
Jenna rolled her eyes.
"Do you ever have anything more than a passing fancy?" asked Harry.
Jenna smirked. "Wow, harsh, Black."
Harry shrugged.
"No, he does have a point." Dylan's shoulders dropped. "I'm doomed to be alone, forever!"
Jenna and Harry laughed as he dramatically threw his arms up before lying his face on the table.
A loud screech made the three friends lookup. A few owls flew in from above, and a familiar snowy owl flew down towards Harry. Hedwig landed gracefully on the table beside Harry and let go of a box. Harry stroked her chest feathers for a moment before giving her a piece of chicken from his sandwich. She quickly gobbled it down before turning to nip at her feathers.
Harry grabbed the box.
"Whose sending you mail?" asked Dylan.
"Probably Fleur," said Jenna.
"Of course, dumb question," said Dylan.
Harry glanced at his friends. "Is there an issue if my girlfriend is sending me something?"
Jenna shook her head. "No, but it seems like all you do is write to Fleur, school work and your apprenticeship. Whatever happened to spending time with your friends?"
It was more of a teasing question than anything, but she had a point. Harry knew that he tended to get caught up in things; he should really spend more time with his friends. Carlisle had been his biggest concern since they had come back, but things seemed better with him and Amelia. There were more smiles, fewer tears, and Carlisle had stopped avoiding everyone and everything.
"I'm sorry if you are feeling left out," said Harry. He reached across the table and patted Jenna's hand.
She frowned at him.
Harry suggested, "Why don't we go down to Hogsmeade this weekend?"
Jenna's frown disappeared, and she smiled widely. "Yes, let's. I haven't had a Butter Beer in ages."
"Dylan?"
Dylan sighed, "If I must. But only after we finish Snape's essay."
Harry smirked. It seemed that Snape had decided to be mean and give out an unnecessarily long assignment.
Looking down at the parcel he had received, Harry tore the brown paper and ran his hand over the carved wooden box. Sitting on the top was a letter, his name in familiar script, staring back at him. He opened the letter and read:
Dear Harry,
I know it has only been two months, but I wish this year was done. Unfortunately, it has been nothing but drama since I returned to Beauxbatons, and it has left me feeling drained. What does help, is knowing that I get a letter from you every week.
Now, I know that my letter is late, but I was awaiting the arrival of your present before I sent it. Mother told me about an enchanted object that Father once gave her when they were separated for a short time before they married. She said it helped with the long-distance relationship.
Inside the box, you will find a mirror, one that is connected to its twin that is in my possession. This mirror will allow us to speak face to face whenever we like. All you need to do is hold it and think of me. My mirror will glow, and I will know you are calling, and vice versa.
I hope to be looking at you very soon.
All my love, Fleur.
Harry placed down the letter and opened the box. As Fleur described, framed in an ornate silver frame, was a mirror. It was small enough to fit comfortably in his hand. Holding it, he couldn't help but want to see her straight away. The mirror grew warm in his hand, and suddenly his reflection disappeared, and Fleur's beaming smile replaced him.
"Fleur!" he exclaimed.
Fleur giggled. "Hello, mon amour."
"What?"
Harry looked up at Jenna and Dylan, who was looking at him.
"What did she send you?" asked Jenna.
"A mirror that we can talk through," said Harry. He turned the mirror around to point Fleur at them.
Both his friends smiled and waved, before Harry grabbed his stuff and excused himself. He walked out of the Great Hall, out the front doors and into the Court Yard. It was mostly empty except a few students scattered about. Harry took a seat in one of the arches.
He said, "This is great."
Fleur smiled and said, "That it is; now we don't have to write and wait; we can just simply talk."
"I miss you."
Her cheeks grew pink. "I miss you too." Fleur asked, "How is Harvey doing? That house-elf make any more appearances?"
Harry sighed. "No. Dobby hasn't shown up, but if he is determined to get Harvey to leave, then he might come back. Otherwise, he was a little shaken after the whole petrified cat thing, but he seems alright."
She asked, "Have your Professors come up with an explanation?"
"No. At least—not one they are sharing. Snape won't even tell me what the Chamber of Secrets is."
"You said that you thought it sounded familiar."
He nodded. "It does. But I've read so many books in my life that I could have seen it anywhere."
Harry had spent a few afternoons in the Library trying to find some reference to a 'Chamber of Secrets', but there wasn't anything solid.
"Have you asked your father? Or maybe Remus?" asked Fleur.
"No. I don't need them to think I'm looking for trouble."
"Aren't you, though?"
"No. I'm not. Last years events were more than enough drama. I just want to keep Harvey and myself out of it."
"Harvey did say he would stay out of trouble."
"I know. But if Ronald finds out, I have a feeling it could go very badly."
"Then just make sure that he doesn't find out."
"Oh yeah, because twelve-year-old boys are great at keeping secrets." Harry groaned at the thought of Ron dragging Harvey into something else that could get them killed. "Enough about my drama; what's happening over there?"
Fleur's face dropped. She leant her chin on the palm of her hand and said, "Oh, don't get me started."
"Are the other girls being mean?" he asked.
She said, "Not to me. But it seems that someone let it slip that they are attracted to girls, and now the rest of our year are treating her like she is some sort of pariah."
Harry frowned. "Is it that big of a deal in France if someone likes the same sex?"
She said, "No, not at all. The girls here are all just assholes."
"Who are you talking to?"
Harry paused at the voice. Then, he asked, "Who's that?"
Fleur looked back at Harry and smiled. "Oh, it's Blanche."
"The mysterious best friend."
Harry had heard lots about Blanche; she had been Fleur's closest friend since they had started at Beauxbatons. They just hadn't had the chance to meet yet officially.
Fleur nodded. "That's her…I'm talking to Harry."
"Can I finally meet him?" asked Blanche.
A face pushed up against Fleur's. Long dark locks mixed with Fleur's bright ones and a pair of blue eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief.
"He is delicious, Fleur," said Blanche.
Fleur chuckled and said, "And he can understand you."
Blanche's cheeks went red.
"I appreciate the compliment," said Harry.
Blanche shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "You're welcome. Just know, no matter how good looking you may be, you hurt my friend, and I will castrate you."
Fleur rolled her eyes.
Harry smiled. "And I will let you."
Blanche smiled widely and nodded. "Good." She disappeared from the mirror and left Fleur shaking her head.
"I like her," said Harry.
Fleur sighed. "I'm glad. She is certainly a character."
"To change the subject back to me, are you able to convince your parents to bring you to my Quidditch match?" Harry asked.
Fleur nodded. "Mother said she could bring me, but she wouldn't stay. So I could spend the whole Saturday with you."
Harry's heart lept. "That sounds great."
"Only, let's keep the game relatively chill. I don't want to be watching a bludger chase you around the whole game."
Harry shrugged. "No promises…then again, we are playing Hufflepuff, and they're pretty tame."
"That's Cedric's house, isn't it?"
"Yep."
"If Blanche came, would that be alright?" Fleur asked.
Harry asked, "What happened to our day all by ourselves?"
Fleur smirked. "I think she'll be too distracted by your handsome single friends to be much of a nuisance for us."
"Who has single handsome friends?" Blanche's voice screeched from Fleur's side.
Harry laughed. "I'll make sure to warn the boys."
They spent the rest of the time they had, talking about whatever they could think of. When it was finally time to say goodbye, Harry found himself feeling great. Fleur's letters always perked him up, but actually talking to her was something else. But the few great minutes he got to spend talking with Fleur brightened his mood for the rest of the morning.
The Gryffindor common room was quiet. Harvey had just come back from the library after spending the last hour with Hermione and Ron. They had tried their best to do their Charms and Transfiguration homework, and Harvey was proud of himself for getting it done. He was normally always rushing to finish the last bits and pieces due for classes the day they were due, sometimes finishing moments before the Professor asked for their work. But Hermione seemed determined to whip both Harvey and Ron into shape. So the library had become somewhat of a commonplace to find the three friends.
Harvey had left Hermione and Ron to finish their work—well, for Ron to finish his and Hermione to help—and had come back to his dorm to collect his stuff for Quidditch practice. Normally, on a Thursday evening, the team would practice after dinner, but tonight was the Halloween Feast, and no one would be willing to train after eating so much food.
He put his school books and bag back into his trunk and grabbed his Quidditch uniform and broom. He also grabbed the cleaning kit that was sitting in his trunk. He carried his stuff down into the common room and laid it out on the coffee table in front of the fire. A few other Gryffindor students were sitting about in the room; a couple were studying, others were talking.
As Harvey grabbed the polish for his broom, Hermione came into the common room. She huffed as she walked over and dropped onto the chair opposite Harvey. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.
"I left you less than twenty minutes ago; what happened?" asked Harvey.
Hermione let out a firm huff. "That ridiculous moron we call a friend is what happened."
Harvey cringed.
Hermione and Ron were friends, especially after everything that had happened last year, but they tended to butt head's a lot.
"I thought you were just helping him finish his work?"
She nodded. "That was the plan, but once you left, Ron wouldn't do anything. Instead, he kept going on about that bloody 'Chamber of Secrets' everyone's gossiping about."
Harvey frowned. He had been trying to do what Harry said, not talk about anything to do with Dobby or the Chamber of Secrets. The plan had to be to avoid all mention of it and hope that Ron wouldn't try and drag them all into trouble again. Last year had been enough adventure for Harvey.
"I thought it was just a myth," said Harvey.
Hermione shrugged. "No one really knows. I tried to check out Hogwarts: A History, but all of the copies the library had were already gone. I thought it might mention something about it."
"Don't you have your own copy?"
"I do," she said, "but I left it at home because it wouldn't fit in my trunk."
Harvey scrunched up his brow. "What else did you bring?"
"All of Lockhart's books took up a lot of room."
Harvey wanted to roll his eyes but made sure not to. He still wasn't certain why Hermione, of all people, would be so convinced by Lockhart. He was all talk, and they hadn't learnt a single thing about Defensive spells since the term started. Harvey just knew more about Lockhart's life than he ever wanted to.
"I'm surprised that you aren't even the least bit curious," said Hermione.
"What do you mean?" asked Harvey.
She sat forward in the chair. "Well, someone mysteriously writes that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened and then left a petrified cat hanging from a torch sconce. That doesn't pique your interest?"
Harvey put down the cloth he had been using to wipe polish along his broom handle. "After last year, I don't want anything to pique my interest." He laid back on the couch. "And with the barrier at King's Cross keeping me from the train and a stray bludger deciding I was its one and only target, I want to stay away from creepy messages and frozen cats."
"I get that, I suppose. Did you ever find out anything about the barrier or the bludger?" Hermione asked.
"No. Harry turned it to dust, remember."
"Right." Hermione tapped her chin. "I wonder if they are related?"
Harvey felt a flicker of panic. "What do you mean?"
"The barrier and the bludger. Maybe someone is trying to get you to leave the school," she suggested.
He tried to keep his face calm and not show the panic that wanted to come out. Harry had said to keep Dobby under wraps.
"I don't know," Harvey said.
"Can you imagine if someone was? How crazy would that be? If it was anyone, it would probably be Malfoy; he seems like the type."
"Or maybe you're overthinking this?"
"Probably, but sometimes I can't help myself."
"Whatever it may be, let's not talk about it, especially in front of Ron."
"Right," Hermione laid back and nodded.
The two fell silent for a short while. Harvey finished cleaning his broom and stood up to head down towards the pitch when Hermione lept up.
"We should ask Harry," she cried.
Harvey frowned. "About what?" He picked up his broom and headed towards the door.
Hermione followed. "About the barrier and the bludger. Or maybe he knows more about the Chamber of Secrets."
They walked out the door and headed towards the main staircase.
"Why would Harry know?" Harvey asked.
"He reads more than I do. I guarantee he has heard of it."
"He hasn't."
"How do you know?"
"Because he told me."
"When?"
"When I was in the Hospital Wing after the Bludger broke my arm."
"What did he say?"
"That he doesn't know anything about it."
Hermione stopped midstride. "How would he have told you in the Hospital Wing? You left the Wing before you found the message on the wall."
Harvey paused. He had slipped up. What was he supposed to say now?
"You knew about the chamber before the message? How?" Hermione jumped in front of Harvey.
Harvey cringed. "I can't tell you."
She frowned. "Why not?"
"I'm not allowed."
Hermione scoffed. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm not Ron."
Harvey sighed and closed his eyes. It was true; she wouldn't spread anything. But he had also promised Harry to keep his mouth shut, and technically he hadn't mentioned Dobby yet, only the chamber. But Harvey also knew that Hermione wouldn't let it go; she would push and prod him until he cracked.
"So?" she asked.
Harvey huffed. "Fine. A house-elf told us."
"A house-elf?"
He nodded.
"One from the kitchens?"
"No, his name is Dobby, and apparently, he is the Malfoy's house-elf."
"Why did he tell you this?"
Harvey started walking towards the Quidditch pitch, and Hermione followed. He explained to her everything Dobby had said, about his belief that something bad was going to happen, how he had been the one to shut the barrier and send the bludger after him. And how Dobby had slipped up and mentioned the chamber. Harvey also admitted that Harry had told him not to say anything, less the Malfoy's find out and Dobby gets punished.
By the time they reached the changing rooms at the Quidditch pitch, Hermione's mind was churning with possibilities. She left Harvey standing beside the changing rooms yelling something about research.
Harvey wasn't certain if telling Hermione was the best idea, but she was one of his best friends, and he knew she wouldn't tell anyone—at least, he hoped she wouldn't.
The sound of his shoes hitting the cobblestone floors echoed through the dungeon. Harry had his head buried in a potions book as he left Snape's lab and headed back to his dorm. He had about an hour before the Halloween feast began, and he felt like he needed a shower. There were moments when he realised just how gross potion brewing could be, and after spending the last four hours brewing, Harry needed to wash his hair and a fresh set of clothes before dinner.
He followed his feet up the stairs, only glancing up occasionally as he headed back towards Ravenclaw tower. A storm that had gathered as the sun had set grew louder as he moved between other students who were making their way towards the Great Hall or had stopped to congregate with their friends. Thunder rumbled through the castle, and rain started to smack harshly against the windows. A few laughing students rushed to get undercover as a large flash of lightning lit up the sky.
Harry reached the stairs leading to Ravenclaw Tower and spotted a familiar mop of blonde hair. Lockhart was standing at the top of the stairs, in between Harry and the corridor that lead to his dorm. Lockhart was dressed in one of his outlandish outfits; this one was a soft lavender with white lace. His face held his bright smile, but Harry could see how his eyes weren't holding the same emotion.
Harry reached the top of the stairs; he had every intention of passing the baboon without acknowledging him, but Lockhart slid in front of him. Harry halted to prevent himself from colliding with the man. He projected his very best Snape inspired sneer and snapped his book shut.
"Mr Black," Lockhart started. He held up his hand and said, "I think we got off on the wrong foot." He wiggled his fingers towards Harry. "There seems to be some form of discourse between us that I cannot understand; I was hoping we could put whatever differences or grievances we have aside and start again…as student and teacher."
Harry wanted to hex the fool. He said, "The only way I would put aside the grievances I have about you would be if you announced to the world what you truly are."
Lockhart's smile cracked, and his teeth clenched. He asked, "And what is it that you believe I am?"
"Where do I begin?" Harry tapped his chin like he was actually thinking up the different things that the fool was. "There are so many things that I could call you, but let's start with the most obvious one." Harry sneered at him and poked him in the chest. "You're a fraud and a liar."
Lockhart's face turned bitter. His mouth twisted into a grimace. It would have almost been comical if the man didn't reach out and grasp Harry by his shirt. "How dare you call me that." The charming professor was gone, and in place was a very angry man.
Harry grabbed Lockhart's hand and pulled it off of him. He pushed the man away. "Don't touch me."
"You will take those lies back," Lockhart snapped.
"Unlike you, Professor, I tell the truth."
"Do you now? Well then, go ahead. Tell everyone I'm a fraud." Lockhart laughed bitterly. "Tell them how I tracked down the witches and wizards who actually did those things, how I used a memory charm to wipe it from their memories. After all, I couldn't have them blabbing out the truth."
Harry shook his head. "You should be ashamed of yourself."
Lockhart shrugged. "Not really…after all, I did have to put in a lot of work to get where I am."
The sound of shoes squeaking on the ground caught their attention. Harry turned to see a first-year, Colin, standing there. His eyes were wide open, his camera in his hands. His cheeks went red, and he let out a squeak before scampering off.
Looking back at Lockhart, his face had turned red too. Except for the anger that flared in his eyes, that was almost startling.
"Looks like your secret is out, Professor," said Harry.
Lockhart stepped towards him.
Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the man. "You may be proficient in memory charms, Professor, but my father and Professor Snape are extremely proficient in duelling. So please, I dare you to just try it."
Lockhart seemed to understand that he was outmatched and backed off. He held up his hands, and the familiar smile replaced his glare. "Very well, Mr Black. You win…for now."
The Defence Professor turned and went down the hall and around the corner that Colin had fled down. Harry hoped that the boy hadn't actually heard anything said between them; it seemed Harry had underestimated how desperate or dangerous the Fraud would become with his secrets at risk. Harry would make sure to mention his encounter to Snape the next time he had the chance.
Harry made it back to his dorm room, showered and cleaned away the potion grime and had dressed in some clean clothes when Dylan came in. His cheeks flushed, his hair damp. Harry glanced at his friend as he dropped onto his bed.
"What happened to you?" asked Harry.
Dylan swallowed and opened his mouth but then closed it. A sudden laugh came out of his mouth, and he fell back on his bed. "I kissed him."
Harry's eyes went wide. "Him?"
Dylan smiled and sat up. "Yeah."
"Wait, this girl you were telling me about is a guy?"
Dylan nodded.
"I had no idea you liked guys," said Harry.
Dylan laughed and rubbed his hands across his face. "Neither did I. But then again, I haven't ever really gotten to know someone like him before."
Harry smiled as he watched his friend. He imagined that he looked the same when he thought about Fleur. Goofy smile, that genuine happiness.
He said, "I take it from your face that the kiss was accepted by whoever he is?"
Dylan nodded. "He was the one who started it." The blush on his face grew, and his ears also went red.
"I'm happy for you." Harry stood and patted his friend on the shoulder.
"Thanks, mate."
Harry was glad that Dylan was feeling great; he knew how much loving someone could help someone. Fleur had made a big difference for him, and after the last year Dylan had dealt with, he needed a good thing just as much as Harry had.
The two friends ended up making their way to the Great Hall together. They were running late, and the feast would have already started, but Dylan needed to shower and change himself. They were almost to the hall when Harry heard it again. The strange voice.
"Let me kill…."
The raspy voice echoed past.
Harry frowned and turned around.
"What is it?" asked Dylan.
Harry wanted to say nothing, but this was twice he had heard it now. "You can't hear it?" he asked.
"Rip and tear. Kill!"
"Hear what?" asked Dylan.
"That voice," said Harry.
Dylan frowned.
The voice seemed to grow softer, so Harry followed it.
"Kill…kill…."
Dylan chased after Harry. He followed it down the hall, and then it stopped. Harry paused and looked left, then right.
"Harry, there was no voice," said Dylan.
Harry shook his head. "I heard something…and it wasn't the first time."
Dylan looked uncertain. "Mate, hearing voices…."
"I know," said Harry, "I sound crazy."
Dylan shrugged. "No more than usual."
Harry almost laughed, but then he heard a cry of panic.
The two friends glanced at each other before racing towards the scream. They rounded the corner and found something almost unbelievable. Lockhart was standing against the wall; Harvey had his wand out and pointed at the man. Hermione was kneeling on the ground beside someone, and Ron was standing to the right—his face almost unreadable.
"Harvey?" Harry walked closer.
Harvey glanced over at his brother then back at the Professor. "He did something." He gestured to Lockart.
The man scoffed. "I found the kid like that; I didn't petrify him."
Harry looked at the student lying on the ground beside Hermione. It was Colin. His skin was a pale white, his eyes were clenched shut, and his camera was in his hands. Kneeling down, Harry touched his skin. He was ice cold.
"Dylan, would you please go and get the Headmaster?" asked Harry.
Dylan went without question, rushing past them towards the Great Hall.
"Harvey, lower your wand," said Harry.
Harvey glanced over his shoulder at Harry and then turned back to Lockhart. "I found him leaning over Colin; he did something."
Harry stood and walked over to take Harvey's hand. He couldn't believe he was about to defend Lockhart. "This type of petrification couldn't be caused by a spell."
Harvey allowed Harry to push his arm down.
"Exactly!" exclaimed Lockhart. "Foolish child."
Harry spun around and glared at the Professor. "Shut it."
"Harvey, do you think that voice you heard is the cause?" asked Ron.
Harry frowned. "You heard a voice?"
Harvey nodded. "It's not the first time," he mumbled.
Harry went to explain that he had heard the voice when Dylan, followed by Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, came around the corner.
"Albus," called Lockhart. He pushed past Harry and stepped over Colin. "I found this poor child. I was a moment too late to save him."
The Headmaster glanced at Lockhart and sighed. "You didn't happen to see what happened to him?"
Snape stepped around Lockhart and Dumbledore to examine Colin. He touched the boy's hands and gently pried the camera out of his hands. "Petrified," said Snape, "the same as Filch's cat."
"Would his camera have caught anything?" asked Hermione.
Snape opened the back of the camera, and a jet of steam hissed out the camera. "Melted."
"Headmaster, with all due respect," said Harry, "what is going on?"
Dumbledore sighed, and his shoulders sagged. "Something bad, very, very bad."
Colin was taken to the Hospital Wing before any other students could come across them. Harry and Dylan took Harvey, Hermione and Ron to the kitchens to grab some food before taking them back to the Gryffindor common room. Once again, they were left with questions and no answers.
When they stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry said, "Now listen, all three of you."
Harvey and Hermione turned. Ron huffed and paused.
"Don't go spreading anything about Colin. Let the Professors handle it," said Harry.
Ron scoffed. "What's Lockhart going to do? Smile at whatever is doing this?"
Harry would have laughed in any circumstance.
Harvey cracked a smile, but Hermione turned to glare at the redhead.
"Not the point," said Dylan.
"Whatever is causing this could be a prank gone bad or something dangerous. We don't need students…" he frowned at Ron, "…going off and trying to find out what is happening and ending up the same way."
Ron rolled his eyes.
"We will stay out of it," said Harvey.
Harry smiled at his brother. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow."
They watched the three friends walk into the dorm before turning to head back to their own dorm. As they walked, Dylan said, "How long until the three of them are knee-deep?"
Harry frowned. He wanted to say they wouldn't, but he had started to think that there was no way they could all stay out of trouble. He said, "I give it twenty-four hours."
