History of Magic was a subject that Eleanor and Draco agreed was one of the dullest ones they had. Despite the momentary interest it could offer on the rare occasions where Binns would mention a tidbit of history that seemed like it might include a reference to the mysterious Hemlocks or Ottilie herself, Eleanor often found herself struggling to stay awake. Luckily, reading from the textbook wasn't so difficult, and Eleanor didn't have the worst time with simple memorization, so she wasn't too hard on herself about the frequent times she tended to doze off.
This lesson, however, proved to be the most interesting yet.
Professor Binns, a ghost, had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand. Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.
"Miss - er -?"
"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.
Draco, who had been absently fiddling with the end of his quill, sat up straight, his pale eyes locked on Hermione. Eleanor pulled her head up out of her hands, and Daphne put down the mirror she had been using to adjust her hair.
Professor Binns blinked. "My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends."
He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk scraping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers " He stuttered to a halt.
Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.
"Miss Grant?"
"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"
Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, that Eleanor began to wonder if ghosts could shout.
"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale -"
But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his.
"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see ... the Chamber of Secrets ...
"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."
He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued. "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."
Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.
"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "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 the 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 who were unworthy to study magic."
There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more.
Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed. "The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he 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 Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice. The class exchanged nervous looks.
"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."
"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "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 Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing -"
"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it-"
"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore –"
"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't -" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had 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 its usual torpor.
After their lesson, Nell couldn't help but notice a change in the behavior of their classmates. It wasn't long before what had been revealed in their History of Magic class made its way around the school, cementing for everyone the rumored connection between Slytherin and the Chamber, and therefore the attack on Halloween.
The Slytherins had always been a sort of odd-house-out at Hogwarts, but it had typically been only in a general sense. Not all students shared the belief Eleanor once had that Slytherin was solely the evil house, and most students usually found a friend or two in the green and silver. And there were always a handful of Slytherins that barely anybody could deny weren't enjoyable to be around. Daphne Greengrass, for example, was far too pretty to be shunned, and there was Blaise Zabini, who usually had no issue befriending Ravenclaws.
But after the school legend that the Chamber of Secrets was built by Salazar Slytherin to enforce a grand plan of blood purity, Nell found herself the target of a greatly increased number of terrified stares. Even around Daphne, kids started ducking out of their path, or tensing and cowering when Blaise would reach into his pocket, even though it was only to retrieve a tube of chapstick.
Eleanor, no stranger to the idea of being feared for something she was only just associated with, didn't take the changing tide too hard. It was an easier thing to deal with when she could commiserate with her housemates, all more than willing to laugh at the idea, as if the paranoia were nothing more than the result of a silly rumor. Afterall, Eleanor hadn't released any monsters, so, as for the Chamber, she was entirely guiltless.
On the following Monday, after lessons, Nell sought out Hermione Granger in the library, eager to finally fill her in on the Pandorette. She hadn't had a chance over the weekend, as she had gotten rather behind in her homework with everything that was going on, and she had spent Saturday watching the Slytherins practice for their upcoming game. It cut into her studying, but the sheepish smile on Draco's face when he saw her in the stands, bundled under jumpers, had made it worth the loss.
Nell found Hermione nose-deep into a book that was bigger than her head. She almost felt bad for interrupting her.
"Er– Hermione?"
Hermione startled up, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. "Oh! Hello, Eleanor."
"Can I talk with you for a moment? I've got something to show you."
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed before she nodded, and let Eleanor pull them away to a quieter corner, away from listening ears.
Once they sat down, Nell pulled out the Pandorette, explained everything Daphne had told her, and watched Hermione's eyes widen when she pricked her finger. She pulled out the notebooks first, most eager to see what Hermione might make of them.
Unsurprisingly, Hermione tried the same two spells that Draco had when Nell showed him. Unfortunately, she was just as unsuccessful.
She followed this attempt by pulling out some sort of funny eraser that was apparently charmed to reveal hidden words, and gave it a try on the notebooks. Still nothing.
Nell sighed and they moved on. She let Hermione read over Ottilie's letter, and watched the expression that played across her face, finding herself somehow more nervous than she had been when Draco and Daphne had their time with it.
Her nerves hadn't been unwarranted, Nell learned, because when Hermione next spoke, she said the last thing that Nell would have expected.
"I think you should turn this all over to Dumbledore," Hermione said, placing the letter back down on the table with an unnecessary hesitancy.
"What?" Eleanor asked. "Why?
"Because your mother was a Death Eater," Hermione said simply.
"Thanks, I'd forgotten," Nell responded in turn, sarcasm sharp.
"All I mean is that he'd probably be able to reveal whatever's in these notebooks," Hermione said. "And they could be cursed, you know. Especially that necklace." She pointed to the small box, refusing to touch it. Nell didn't want to bolster her accusation by telling her that Draco had said the same thing.
"They're not cursed!" Nell said, her temper higher than she had realized. "Why would my mother curse me?"
Hermione shrugged. "Why would she leave you journals you can't read?"
Nell glared. "You read the letter. She wanted me to understand something…"
Hermione pursed her lips, and waited for Nell to continue.
So she did. "Maybe… maybe she wanted me to clear her name." Nell's own words surprised her. It was the nagging thought that had been hiding in the back of her mind, suddenly uprooting itself with crystal clear urgency.
"Oh, Eleanor," Hermione said, her voice laced in something like condescension or pity. She reached out to pat Eleanor on the back of her hand, but Nell yanked it away, and out of Hermione's reach, ignoring the surprised look that crossed her face. Instead, Nell began to pack the box back up.
"My mother left me this box. It's mine . If she wanted Dumbledore to have it, then wouldn't she have left it for him?" Nell argued.
"Eleanor, your mother was a Death Eater."
"You've already said that."
Hermione's face became pointed again, the same expression Nell saw her giving Harry and Ron after they had crashed their flying car into the whomping willow. "You do realize that that box could have something in it to help Dumbledore with this whole Chamber of Secrets business, don't you? Maybe it's somehow connected. It's not safe for you to keep it."
Nell sighed, annoyed to have been reminded of the bigger picture. "Sorry. But I'm not giving it away."
They stood there for a moment, the air heavy with tension.
With Hermione's eyes uncharacteristically cast downward, she said, "Do you… er– know anything, by the way?"
"About?" Nell asked.
"About… about the… well, about the whole Chamber business," Hermione said, fiddling with her thumbs. "Or… maybe about the heir of Slytherin?"
Nell glared at her, Hermione's eyes still cast away. "Don't you think if I knew anything, I'd have already told you?"
"Not if it were about–" Hermione started, before she stopped herself suddenly, her eyes wide and fearful on Nell's.
"About… what?" Nell demanded.
Hermione sighed, and gave up the delicacy she had been attempting. "Fine! About Malfoy, alright? I mean, you've heard how he's been this year! It must be him who is doing all of this, isn't it?"
Nell's jaw fell open. She had never even considered for a moment that Malfoy had been responsible for what they saw on Halloween. Malfoy was a lot of things, Eleanor knew this, but ominous and subtle, and cruel to cats… well, Draco was none of that.
"No, Hermione. Draco had nothing to do with it," Nell said firmly.
Hermione's eyes scanned Nell's face, as if searching for a lie.
Nell continued, Draco's words from Friday still on her mind. "Listen… I know Draco can be an absolute prat most of the time, but… you don't really know him, alright? What he said to you was horrible , and I don't condone it at all… but you have to know that there's more going on with him. There's other factors at play here."
"I heard him threaten all of the muggleborn students," Hermione said coldly. "That includes me, if you've forgotten."
Nell ground her teeth, guilt and anger roiling a confusing mixture beneath her skin. "I haven't forgotten."
In silence, they stared at each other, unbreaking. This all had not been the reaction Nell had expected, and she wasn't sure how it all had gone so pants up. Draco and Daphne had both been much kinder about the box, about Nell's letter. She thought Hermione would have been kind too.
But, Nell remembered, Draco and Daphne didn't have to think about Death Eaters in the same way that Hermione did.
With a heavy sigh, Nell said, "I'll ask Draco what he knows, okay? But when I tell you that he doesn't know anything, then you've got to believe me."
Hermione's eyes only narrowed. "You really should give that box to Dumbledore."
Nell shook her head, and stood up, as she had nothing else to say.
The upcoming Slytherin vs. Gryffindor quidditch game was the welcome distraction they all desperately needed. Nell was able to forget about her argument with Hermione and the weird thought she had about her mother's innocence, while Daphne braided her hair back, tying it all up with a long green velvet ribbon. Pansy was also wearing a ribbon around her black bob, and Nell thought she looked quite lovely with her dark fringe sharp against her pale skin.
The three of them sat together in the stands, and Nell felt her hands trembling with a new sort of excitement. After a whole year of training with Draco, she was finally getting the chance to see him play in a real game. It gave her an odd rush of pride, all mixed up with a tremor of anxious nerves. She still didn't care much about quidditch, and she figured she might never, but she had never wanted to win so badly.
"They're off!" Nell couldn't help but shout as she watched the green blur of Slytherin players rocketing into the air.
Together, the three of them cheered, Nell shouting out Draco's name.
And Draco was fast . Far faster than he had been on the broom last year. She watched him as he circled beneath Harry, no doubt calling up taunts she couldn't quite make out, and Eleanor felt relieved to see one thing that remained constant from the previous year.
But Nell's focus was only temporary, as she was pulled away to the sight of Fred and George on the Gryffindor team, batting away a Bludger that had been aiming for Harry.
"They're… quite strong, aren't they?" Nell said, mostly under her breath.
Daphne giggled beside her.
Nell turned to her.
"Have you got a crush, Nellie?" Daphne teased with a smile, and Nell felt her cheeks go red.
"Who's Nell got a crush on?" Pansy asked suddenly, her eyebrows so high they disappeared under her fringe.
"Nobody!" Nell defended, looking up at the gray sky above them. "Hey, is it raining?" she tried.
Daphne grimaced up at the clouds, and Nell watched as a heavy raindrop hit the slope of her cheek. But before they were drenched by the sudden onslaught of rain, a Slytherin prefect from higher in the stands cast a spell that shielded the rows of spectators. It was almost cozy, then, underneath the rain that couldn't reach them.
"We're winning!" Pansy interrupted, pointing as Marcus Flint shot a Quaffle through a hoop, just out of Oliver Wood's grasp.
Nell cheered, and tried to seek out Draco again in the darkening pitch. But before she could find him, a whistle blew a timeout.
"What's happened?" Nell asked, trying to see through the sheets of rain.
"I think it was Gryffindor," Pansy answered, leaning back in her seat and extracting a packet of licorice wands. She offered some to Nell and Daphne, who both took them eagerly.
"So, a crush?" Pansy asked, smirking.
Nell busied herself by shoving the licorice into her mouth and gumming up her teeth. She shrugged a response.
"On Draco, then?" Pansy asked.
Nell grimaced and shook her head.
"Ooh, it's like a game!" Daphne said, beaming. "Pansy, how about you get three asks, and if you get it, then Nell has to say yes. But, if you don't, then you've got to give up!"
Nell glared at Daphne, who just laughed her off.
"Here, guessing Draco already counts as one, how about that?" Daphne offered.
Nell chewed on the licorice while Pansy smirked and looked back to the field, no doubt scanning over her options.
"Oh, I've got it! It's Potter, isn't it?" she said, her face bright with excitement.
Nell shook her head even harder. Somehow, Harry Potter being her crush was just as ridiculous of an idea as the thought of her fancying Draco, though she wasn't quite sure why.
Pansy scowled, disappointed, and looked back to the field.
"Only one chance left!" Daphne said with glee.
But before Pansy could continue, the teams were in the air again, and Lee Jordan's commentary was booming around them. Nell distracted herself from Pansy's contemplation by pulling out the binoculars Draco had left her to use since he wouldn't need them while playing.
The rain had somehow gotten even heavier, Nell noticed, as she looked around the field, ricocheting her view from player to player. She started with Fred, because she couldn't help herself, but found him looking uncharacteristically grim.
Confused, she followed his stare, which brought Harry into sight. Harry was flying very strangely, zigzagging through the air and rolling over his broom like he was doing some sort of complicated dance. Briefly, Nell wondered if there was such a sport as synchronized flying.
"What's Harry doing?" she asked Pansy and Daphne.
She felt Daphne shift beside her, and say, "Hmm… I'm not sure. But he looks rather funny, doesn't he?"
Pansy snorted.
Nell moved on to Draco, and found him yelling to Harry.
Just barely, no doubt due to some magic in the binoculars, she heard him yell, "Training for the ballet, Potter?"
Nell rolled her eyes though nobody could see it.
She noticed then, a funny golden glint, and focused. Her heart thudded with the realization that she was seeing the Snitch! It was hovering right beside Draco's head. She felt a wonderful rush at the victory that was no doubt moments away.
But she watched, and watched, and waited for Draco to notice. But his eyes were steady, his focus entirely on Potter and the strange dance he was still doing.
Nell shot up in the stands, and screamed as loud as she could, "Draco, you idiot! Look!"
But her voice was drowned out by a collective groan from the audience as Harry was nailed in the arm by a Bludger.
"Oh, Merlin , did you two see that?" Daphne asked, sounding queasy.
Nell focused on Harry through the binoculars, and said, "His arm looks broken," as she watched him cradling it in the air.
She looked to Draco again, whose smile was now gone, though his eyes were still trained on Harry, and the Snitch was somehow still buzzing beside him, completely out of his notice.
Before Nell could shout again, Harry was suddenly flying, aimed directly at Draco, who went still, frozen in place.
Nell watched with a groan as Harry caught the Snitch from right beside Draco's head, securing yet another win for Gryffindor.
"Did Potter just catch the snitch?" Pansy asked, shocked. "From right beside Draco?"
"That thick idiot," Nell answered.
"Er– is Harry alright?" Daphne asked.
Nell looked again, and saw Harry careening to the ground, with Draco following close behind. Harry crashed, a rumpled mess on the muddy ground, his arm still cradled close to his chest.
Nell was up in an instant, ignoring Daphne and Pansy's questions, and rushing down the wooden stairs, just as she had done the year prior, during the last Gryffindor-Slytherin game. Distantly, she wondered if Quidditch was really all that good of a sport for children.
She caught up to a circle of Gryffindor players standing around Harry in the pouring rain that she was no longer shielded from. She felt it seep through the plaits Daphne had given her, as she ran over by Draco, the only Slytherin there, who was currently being elbowed back by Oliver Wood.
"What's happened?" she yelled out into the group, as she finally saw Harry, eyes closed and still, rain pattering against his blank face.
"I think he's fainted!" answered one of the girl Gryffindor players whose name Nell never learned.
"That Bludger broke his arm," Draco explained. "I heard it snap."
"Nobody asked you, Malfoy!" shouted Oliver, whose face seemed to be shifting from excitement to dread, back and forth, as if he didn't know where to land.
"Hey!" Nell shouted at him. "Draco's only helping!"
Nell saw in the corner of her eye as Draco looked up at her, his face shocked. The rest of the Gryffindors did too, pulling the attention that had been focused on Harry away. Nell realized that she had never raised her voice like that before, not at anyone other than Draco, at least.
"Not to worry, not to worry," came a new voice, and Nell, hopped up on emotions, groaned out loud.
"My heavens, Miss Capulet, you sound ill," Gilderoy Lockhart said on hearing Nell's response to his presence. She had to try very hard not to roll her eyes. "What's happened here?" he asked as he kneeled beside Harry.
"Bludger broke his arm, professor," said a girl from the Gryffindor team who Nell remembered distantly was called Katie Bell. "We think he's fainted."
"It was bewitched," said a different girl, and Nell did not miss the way her eyes flicked to Draco.
"A broken arm, you say?" Lockhart asked. "Oh, how wonderful! Why, that's just the very thing I was known for in Japan, you see. Small village outside Okinawa, you see. They were having just the most terrible time with a local gang of Mountain Trolls. You would not believe the state of the bones I had to mend! I became known as the Bone-Mend by the end of it."
"More like bone -head ," Nell whispered to Draco.
Draco snorted into his hand.
Lockhart took this as a sign of worry, however, and said to Draco, a face full of sympathy, "Oh, please, Mr. Malfoy! Harry will be just fine. Don't fret – he's in my hands, afterall!"
Perhaps at the sound of his name, or the realization of his impending doom, Harry awoke.
"Oh, no, not you," he moaned, his eyes fluttering open to Lockhart's grinning face.
"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."
"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks…"
Nell turned to Draco again, whispering. "He's going to kill him, surely."
"Professor!" Draco said suddenly. "Perhaps we ought to bring him to Pompfrey."
But they were all interrupted by a furious clicking sound breaking through the crowd. Nell turned, and saw Colin Creevy, his camera in hand, snapping away.
"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," Harry said loudly, and Oliver Wood stepped between Colin and Harry, blocking out his sight.
"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times -"
Nell watched as he angled his face toward the gap Colin was still able to peek through, face lighting up in the flash of the camera.
"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.
"He should really, Professor," said Oliver, before turning to Harry, grin replacing his worried expression. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say -"
Nell sighed, and tried to look around for backup, another professor, or anyone. All she saw nearby were Fred and George, who were wrestling one of the Bludgers into the crate. The Slytherin team was nowhere to be found, save for Draco, who was looking increasingly put off.
"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.
"Professor, really!" Nell tried again. "Pompfrey healed me up all last year when I broke a load of bones. We really ought–"
"My girl, you've gone hysterical! Mr. Malfoy, would you please escort Miss Capulet to the hospital so she can have a chance to calm down?"
Draco's jaw fell open and Nell saw red.
But she didn't have a chance to respond because Lockhart had already cast his spell on Harry's arm.
Nell had to look away to stop herself from retching. Instead of mending Harry's broken bones, it seemed Lockhart had removed them entirely. Harry's arm flopped around from inside his robes, looking something like a horrible fleshy tube sock.
"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Wood, would you escort him? - and Madam Pomfrey will be able to - er - tidy you up a bit."
Nell felt rage rise up her throat, and she realized she was moments away from doing something she never thought she would. She was about to shout at a professor.
But just as her mouth opened, she felt Draco's gloved hand yank her away, nearly pulling her arm out of its socket and moving them both quickly off of the pitch.
"Draco!" she shouted at him instead. "Did you not just see what that blithering idiot did?! Why have you–"
"I'm not letting you get detention over Potter!" Draco said back, glancing over his shoulder at Oliver Wood, who was now joined by Ron and Hermione as they carried Harry off the pitch. "Pompfrey will sort it."
"How in the bloody hell can that man be allowed to teach here?" Nell demanded.
"This school is full of idiots," Draco answered. "Don't lose your head over it. It's not worth it."
Nell seethed, her face so hot she could have sworn the raindrops were sizzling off it. She took a breath, struggling to compose herself, and changed topics through clenched teeth. "What happened with that bludger? Someone said it was bewitched?"
"Yeah I suppose. It was a bit focused on Potter."
"Who bewitched it?"
"Probably the same person as whoever left that ludicrous message about the Chamber."
"The same? How do you reckon that?"
"It's obvious – some tosser's idea of a joke, isn't it?"
"Like… what, like, a prank?"
Something flashed across Draco's face. "Perhaps."
"Do you…" Nell started, uncomfortable but unable to avoid the question. "Do you not think the Chamber is really open, then?"
"How would I know?" Draco asked, shrugging. "I doubt it, though. You heard Binns. Nobody's ever found the Chamber, have they?"
Nell watched his face, searching for any sign of deceit or evasion. She found nothing.
Before she could answer, they heard the barking shout of the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint.
"Malfoy!" he shouted, pointing. "Get over here. Now."
Draco went pink despite the cold drizzle. "Bollocks."
"He sounds miffed," Nell said.
"Er… yeah," Draco said.
"The snitch was right–"
"-Right beside me, I know."
"Why didn't you notice it?" Nell asked.
Draco shrugged, and Marcus shouted again.
"Alright, I'll see you at dinner, I guess, if Flint hasn't murdered me."
Nell snorted, and Draco marched off, looking quite like someone walking the plank.
And at that moment, Nell realized how silly she had been to entertain the idea of Draco being the one to open the Chamber of Secrets, if it were even opened at all. Draco didn't have the focus to catch a Snitch in the middle of a Quidditch match, when it was meant to be the only objective he had. How could he ever be sneaky enough to pull off anything bigger?
Soaking wet, Nell walked back to the castle, running through a list in her head of who might actually be sneaky enough.
