Well, this one's been a while. This chapter is probably going to feel the slightest bit disjointed, owing to the fact that portions of it were written literal months apart from each other, though I did run through and attempt to "blend" it, so to speak.

Enjoy.

Chapter Eight: A Badgered Prince

-GINNY-

On the first Saturday of November, with the ceiling of the Great Hall mirroring the murky gray rainfall battering the grounds, Dru passed out the first issue of the Weekly Badger, all but skipping along the aisles between the tables to place them before students with a flourish.

It had of course been a collaborative effort, with the bulk of the legwork and interviews (or the actual badgering, if you asked Antony Granger) done by Dru with the occasional assistance of Ginny and Zinn. The writing had then been spearheaded by Antony himself, with occasional input from Heather and Cedric for some much-needed perspective from older students.

"Plus, they know a lot of bigger words than me," Dru admitted, looking around with pride at the number of students actually giving the paper a read over their breakfasts.

"So do I," Antony protested, and Dru rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but you use them too much just to look fancy," she said. "It's a newspaper, not a Jane Austen novel."

"You know who Jane Austen is?" Antony asked, sounding too impressed to be offended at her jibe.

"Pride and Prejudice is one of Mum's favorites," Dru said. "Dad took her to a muggle library on one of their first dates, and she fell in love with muggle books."

"I love muggle stories," Ginny said through a bite of eggs. "Their lives are so boring, so they have to be extra creative to tell a good one."

"I use—used to g…go to th-the lib…brary a l…lot," Zinn said. "To g…get aw-way from the D…ursleys. I like the N…Nancy D-Drew b…books."

"Oooh, those were Dora's favorite," Dru said, grinning. "She'll chatter your ear off about them. It took her ages to actually get through the things because she's horrible at actually reading, but she stuck it out because she enjoyed the mysteries."

"Is she slow at it?" Antony asked with a frown, and Ginny shot a small glare at the Ravenclaw boy.

"Even if she is, you're making a face like it's some big deal," she said. Antony looked momentarily abashed, ducking his head to stared down unseeingly at the book before him. Ginny felt slightly bad, but only very slightly.

"S-some peop…ple d-d…do thi…ings s-slower th-than others," Zinn pointed out with the tiniest of smirks, and Dru snickered as Antony's face went a bit red.

"I suppose patience isn't my strong-suit," he said.

"Y'think so?" Ginny asked, doing her best to keep her voice as casual as she was able. Antony Granger…annoyed her for some reason. Maybe it was his haughty attitude or the way he seemed to look down on others just because they didn't care for scholastic pursuits the way he did. Maybe it was his thinly-veiled impatience whenever Zinn struggled for her words. Granted, he was making the effort to rein in said impatience, but it still irked Ginny, especially because Zinn was rather perceptive; Ginny could see the way she grew tense, her stutter more pronounced, as she tried to muster through her words for the boy.

It was honestly a mystery as to why she grew so bothered over the whole thing; Ginny would happily make the swotty ponce wait.

"Oi, Dru!" Susan called out, hurrying up to the Hufflepuff table. "Professor Dumbledore wants you in his office."

"What did I do?" Dru asked with a little huff, and Ginny peered at her with a quirked eyebrow.

"You did just pass out a newspaper spilling a lot of secrets that I bet Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to know about," she said.

"If he didn't want anyone to know about a man-eating three-headed dog in the third-floor corridor, he either shouldn't have put it there or locked the door better," Dru insisted, and Zinn let a tiny squawk of a giggle.

"I-it's his—own f-fault, r…really," she said, and Dru winked at her.

"Exactly! Alright, I'm off to get the riot act, I guess," she said, standing from the table. "Zinn, could you be a dear and owl Mum over this? I think she might have a thing or two to say to the professors. After breakfast of course. No need to interrupt your tea."

"Ok…kay," Zinn said with a smile. Dru leaned and pressed a kiss to Zinn's cheek, and Ginny giggled as that smile grew large and toothy. Now that the two were officially sisters, Dru had taken spiritedly to the concept of being a "big sis" to Zinn, despite being only a few weeks her senior. It might have been sickening to watch if it weren't simply so wonderful to see Zinn smiling and at ease for once. Her stutter had even started to improve now that the Dursley family wasn't looming in the future like some doomed fate she was consigned to.

Dru made her way from the Great Hall while the other three girls lingered about and enjoyed a second cup of tea—Antony excused himself to the library to work on an Herbology essay. Sipping at their drinks, they watched the students around them studying the Daily Badger, at first with amusement at the antics of the enterprising first year but fading to shock and intrigue at the actual contents. Dru had not pulled any punches, going for an exposé as her breakout. Not only was Snape's bullying covered in detail (with research done by Heather to prove that he had done incalculable damage to the wizarding world as a whole by stunting their crop of potential potion masters), but several pages had been devoted to the three-headed dog (they had settled on the name Clifford, from a muggle children's book series) and an anonymous interview with Antony Granger speculating about its purpose and what lay beyond the hatch at its feet.

Already, mutterings were springing up around them, students discussing the trapdoor and what secrets it could possibly hide. Ginny saw Fred and George frowning at the paper, and she knew it was only because they had gotten a letter from Mum the day before, expressing a preemptive but blistering outrage and spelling out the horrific punishment that awaited them should they even entertain the notion of having a go at the door.

Ginny felt a small bit of guilt over tipping her off, but she didn't fancy seeing her beloved brothers get eaten by a mad dog.

"Alright, shall we head to the Owlery?" she asked, and Zinn nodded, popping the last bit of a scone in her mouth before the three girls stood and headed from the hall.

…

Ever since Dad and the Board of Governors had swept through Hogwarts, things had actually begun to improve, much to the obvious chagrin of Dumbledore. While the headmaster would clearly have rather kept his dangerous and unsuitable learning environment exactly the way it had been, the message had been clear: shape up, or you're out. While serious action had yet to be taken, there was still a board member dropping in every week or so to check up on the school, and Dumbledore had been forced to comply with their demands, starting with the long-awaited sacking of Argus Filch. The caretaker—whose constant talk of his desires to string children up by their toes and whip them had long been a source of terror for students young and old—had been found to be not only categorically unqualified for the job but a danger to keep around youngsters in general.

Next on the chopping block (according to some of the prefects privy to gossip amongst the teachers) was Severus Snape, to the delight of most of the student body.

"It leaves you to wonder, really, why has he been allowed to teach for this long?" Ginny asked. "It really seems that no one likes him except for half of Slytherin house."

"If he was actually good at his job, that'd be something," Susan agreed.

"B-b…but he's—rubbish," Zinn said. "D…Dumb-b… Dumb says h-he's sssmart with p-potions, b-b-but th…at d-doesn't mat-ter if he's r…rubb…ish at teaching."

"Miss Potter," a cool voice spoke behind them, and Ginny saw Zinn's eyes shoot wide with fear. Almost instinctually, she moved herself between Zinn and the speaker, causing a sneer to curl at Snape's lips as he glared down his hooked nose at them. "Wandering the corridors? Up to no good?"

"Is there a rule against walking about the castle on a Saturday?" Ginny asked him. She wondered how much Snape had heard, though she couldn't bring herself to worry over the matter; Zinn had only been speaking the truth, after all.

"Perhaps," Snape said. "The last thing three young girls such as yourselves need to be doing is squirreling around, conjuring up more nonsense and pointing baseless accusations at hardworking staff members."

"As if!" Ginny spat. "The only thing Filch worked hard at was chasing down anyone that so much as tracked a bit of mud on the floor and yelling at them until they're about to cry."

"S…ssssound f…f-fam…miliar?" Zinn squeaked out, clutching at Ginny's arm with a grip like iron. Glancing back, Ginny saw that her eyes were downcast; she couldn't even look at the menacing professor, but there was still fury written on her small face.

"If you cannot handle my teaching methods, it's hardly any failing of mine," Snape said in flat tones.

"It absolutely is," Susan insisted. "You don't even teach, you just belittle us for not knowing how to brew a potion."

"Which it's your job to teach us," Ginny added. "So it is your fault, isn't it?"

"You insolent – "

"Severus," a stern voice spoke behind them, and Ginny saw Professor Sprout stride around the girls, glaring fixedly at the Potions professor. "Harassing my students? Not a good look for you in light of recent events."

"I wasn't aware that you encouraged your students to mock a professor's teaching methods, particularly in the form of a self-aggrandizing tabloid," Snape spat, and Professor Sprout merely smiled right back at him, placing her hands on Zinn's shoulders.

"Shouldn't we encourage freedom of the press?" she asked. "Or would you like to make a case for libelous claims? Feel free to explain where they told anything except the truth in the article they wrote about you."

Snape stared down their head of house, but despite being a fair bit shorter than him, she bore down on him with a cool confidence that amazed Ginny.

"I won't intimidate like one of your little first-years," she said. "I remember when you were this little. Don't you?"

Snape seemed to bristle at that statement, sneering before spinning away in a whirl of robes and stalking down the hallway without so much as a backward glance.

"I swear, he tries to act like a vampire," Ginny muttered, and Professor Sprout hid a small laugh behind her hand.

"On your way, ladies," she said. "Enjoy this beautiful day."

"Thank you, Professor Sprout," they chorused at her.

"Is Dru going to be in trouble?" Ginny asked in worried tones, and Professor Sprout smiled warmly at her.

"As I said, freedom of the press should be encouraged," she said. "So long as you're not spewing lies or sensationalist claims, of course. Where is Miss Tonks anyway? I expected to see her along with you lot."

"She got called to the headmaster's office," Susan said. "Probably about her article."

"Without her Head of House present?" Sprout wondered aloud, a very slightly dangerous edge to her voice. "Well, I'd best go and investigate. Ladies."

She set off at a brisk walk, and Zinn snickered a bit as she left.

"D-D…Dumble—is in t…trouble," she giggled.

"Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation," Ginny said.

…

-DRUELLA-

"Never in my years have I found myself so very…disappointed in a student, Miss Tonks," Dumbledore spoke in a tone that was probably meant to make Dru feel guilty or squirm in her seat or other such behaviors a small child might fall to when confronted with wrongdoing.

But Dru did none of those things, only meeting those forget-me-not eyes with a hard gaze. She had of course done nothing wrong; if anything, Dumbledore was the one inviting disappointment.

"And I've never been so disappointed in a headmaster…Headmaster," she said. "Granted, you're the first, but I feel you've really dropped the ball here."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore spoke, looking bemusedly across his desk at her. "How might that be?"

"Well, hiring Snape, for one," Dru pointed out. "I've outlined exactly why in my article. Have you read it?"

"Professor Snape, Miss Tonks," Dumbledore corrected her, and Dru rolled her eyes. "Severus Snape is a very capable potion-maker, and he has been teaching at his post for a decade now. I believe he is perfectly qualified for his position."

"So you haven't read the article," Dru said. "Or you would have read that some of my sources found that the number of professional potioneers in our world has dropped a lot since he took the post, and the ones that do make the grade have needed remedial lessons to undo what he's taught them. Not every ingredient should be minced into paste, you know."

Folding her hands neatly in her lap, Dru fixed the man with her most simpering smile. Heather had coached her on exactly what to say should such a situation as this arise, and she had even taken some time to practice in front of the mirror. She did not want her first confrontation as a journalist to end with her stumbling over her words or coming off as some bratty little girl.

Granted, she was by all accounts a bratty little girl, but Dumbledore needn't know that.

"Nevertheless," Dumbledore said, which was a very fancy way of saying that he was listening to none of what she said and only wanted to hear himself talk before handing down judgment, "it is my decision and mine alone who teaches at this school. And while all are welcome to take issue with such appointments, I will not have my professors mocked in front of the whole of the school."

"I wasn't mocking 'Professor' Snape at all," Dru said, making sure to provide air quotes. "None of what was said in that article was anything but the truth. No embezzlement."

"Embellishment?" Dumbledore corrected her, and Dru felt her face warm up. She never remembered that word right.

"Yeah, that," she muttered. "Are you against the telling of the truth, Professor? Do you like to hide things because you know people won't like to hear the facts?"

"Miss Tonks," Dumbledore said in warning tones. Dru fell silent but glared defiantly up at the man who had consigned Zinn to such a horrible life, who had stolen away precious years Dru could have spent with a sister her own age, a friend to take care of and cherish. He'd had no right to do so, and now he was sitting here trying to tell Dru that she was in the wrong for nothing more than telling the truth.

Dumbledore heaved a small sigh at the small girl and her equally small but angry pout. "I know that my actions in the past have likely baffled you," he said. "But everything I've done has been in the best interest of the students."

"Even Zinn?" Dru said.

"Especially Miss Potter," Dumbledore intoned gravely. "While I'm sure you among many take issue with her placement at the Dursleys, I did so only because I felt it was where she would be safest."

"Yeah," Dru said, studying her nails. "So why does she have a stutter? Why is she so malnourished? Why did she feel like running away from home and living on the streets rather than staying with them? And why did you never bother to even check up on her?"

"I understand your frustration," Dumbledore told her, "but this is a matter to be discussed between adults."

"Then by all means, Albus," a new voice spoke, "allow me to second all of those questions. I would also like to add, 'Why was I not invited to this meeting when it concerns a member of my house?'. I'm very interested in the answer to that one."

"Pomona," Dumbledore said with a deep nod, and Dru turned in her seat to see Professor Sprout making her way into the room, the door swinging shut behind her. "I merely wished to discuss the severity of Miss Tonks's actions today. Wouldn't you agree that this newsletter of hers has caused quite an uproar?"

"I can certainly agree with that," Professor Sprout said. "However, it would seem that all Miss Tonks has done is gather the facts and present them to the students in a comprehensive manner so as to enlighten them to the happenings at this school. In fact, I daresay that this young lady has a fine future as a journalist if she can put this sort of thing together at the age of eleven."

Dru preened at the praise, feeling a warmth inside at her Head of House's words. "Well, it wasn't only me," she admitted. "I had lots of help."

"You see, Albus?" Professor Sprout said, settling into a seat next to Dru's across from the headmaster. "Dedication to her work, team effort, and solidarity with a fellow student. This girl is an exemplary Hufflepuff, and I for one am not really sure what the point of this whole thing is. Are you going to punish her for exercising her right as a student? This newsletter of hers is completely within the bounds of the rules. Unless you're merely punishing her because it paints an unflattering picture of you? That, Albus, would be a serious abuse of your station."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Dru muttered, though both professors chose to ignore that.

"I merely wished to express my disappointment in Miss Tonks's actions and beseech her to in the future perhaps select less inflammatory topics to cover," Dumbledore insisted. "She was not to be punished in any way."

"Right," Professor Sprout said. "If that's the case, then I do believe we're done here, yes?"

"…Of course," Dumbledore said. "Thank you for your time, Miss Tonks, Pomona."

"Come along, dear," Professor Sprout said, getting to her feet. "Really, I thought it might be best to clear the office before your mother inevitably storms in."

"Oh, but I want to see!" Dru said, skipping along behind her Head of House. "Will you at least come back and take pictures?"

"You silly girl," Professor Sprout said with an exasperated smile. "Run along with your friends and leave this to the adults to work out. I'm sure you'll hear your dear mother ranting about her visit anyway."

"She does quite enjoy a good rant," Dru agreed. "Maybe she'll send Dumbledore a howler!"

"We can only hope," Professor Sprout chuckled.

000

To Dru's immense disappointment, Mum did not send Albus Dumbledore a howler, though if chatter from the portraits was to be believed, she'd done quite enough shouting in person that one wasn't really necessary. A letter came the following Monday informing Dru in no uncertain terms that neither she nor Zinn were to ever visit Dumbledore's office unaccompanied by Professor Sprout.

"That's a bit scary," Ginny voiced, once Dru had relayed the letter to her friends. "What does she think he'll do?"

"Probably try to get Zinn back to those foul Dursleys or get me expelled because The Weekly Badger won't stop telling the truth on him," Dru huffed, spearing a sausage on her fork and taking a bite. "As if I'd ever let him take my new little sister away."

"I-I'd p…unch him in h…h-his fffoul c-crooked n…nose," Zinn said with a little pout, miming a punch.

"You tell 'em, Zinn," Ginny said with a fond grin at the girl. "Get it even more crooked."

Zinn let a squawk of a giggle, and Dru gave her a fond little bump with her shoulder.

"Finished eating?" she asked, and Zinn studied her plate, taking one more bite of eggs. "Atta girl."

"F-ffatten—ing me u-up," Zinn said with a rueful smile.

"Just preparing you for Christmas," Dru said. "Mum's going to send you back to Hogwarts fit to burst."

"D-d…did she—m-m…anage to in—vite B-B…Biscuits?" Zinn asked, and Dru had to stop herself from interrupting the girl in her excitement.

"Yes!" she said. "She's coming by, and Mum's already making sure the wards won't interfere with her visit."

The absolute beaming smile that split Zinn's face at those words made Dru's poor heart melt to see. Zinn was only allowed to be this beatifically happy from now on; it was only right and proper.

…

Defense Against the Dark Arts brought with it yet more strangeness; Professor Quirrell was absent. Stranger still, it didn't seem that the faculty was aware of the fact, as no substitute showed even five minutes after the second bell had rung, leaving the classroom empty save for quite a few confused first-years.

"Is he ill, d'you think?" Ginny asked quietly. "He's always looked sort of sickly."

"How long you suppose before we can just leave?" Zacharias asked.

"I'm not sure that's allowed," Ernie said. "We should just wait. A professor'll be along."

"Maybe we should get someone," Dru said, already getting to her feet. "We should go find Professor Sprout, right?"

"All the way out in the greenhouses?" Zacharias scoffed. "You'll spend all lesson getting there and back. I say we just leave."

"Right, and then a teacher catches us all wandering off, and we lose every point in the hourglass?" Ginny scoffed. Zacharias stuck his tongue out at her, which she returned with record levels of sass.

"They probably wouldn't deduct points," Dru said. "Just give us all detention in the Forbidden Forest."

"What if we just head to McGonagall's classroom?" Hannah suggested. "It's only down a floor, right?"

"That's a good idea," Ginny said, also standing. "Reckon only a couple of us would do, though, right?"

"I'm going!" Justin said, and he sprang to his feet as well.

"Hey, I wanna go!" Hannah huffed. "It was my idea!"

"Oi, you're not leaving me here!" Zacharias said.

"I really think I should go as well," Ernie said.

Dru snickered a bit as the rest of class slowly congregated near the door, and she and Ginny shared a look while Zinn made her way over to gently grab at Dru's sleeve, picking gingerly at the fabric.

"C-can I…c-come, too?" she asked, and Dru gently took her hand.

"Well, we can hardly leave you here alone, can we?" she asked.

"She might set the floor on fire," Ginny pointed out gravely.

"I d-do…hhhave a p…roblem with th-that," Zinn admitted, and the other two giggled. Nearby, the rest of the class had already spilled into the corridor, evidently on a mission.

"Alright, field trip, then," Dru shrugged, gently leading Zinn toward the door as Ginny fell into step on their small friend's other side. Zinn, as ever, seemed quite content wedged between her two best friends.

Clustered together, the first years made their way for the stairs, chatting and muttering to each other as they speculated on exactly what had become of Professor Quirrel. While Ravenclaw boasted some of the cleverest minds, Hufflepuffs at least didn't want for creativity.

"Reckon he finally chucked it, I do," Zacharias said. "Stress, from being so bloody terrified all the time."

"No, he probably just lost track of time," Megan Jones insisted. "I bet he's still having a cup of tea, reading the paper or something."

"Maybe he's caught up on the toilet," Wayne Hopkins chuckled, and Anthony Goldstein cackled next to him. "D'you think? Ate something funny at lunch, and now he's – "

"You are disgusting!" Susan huffed. "Ew, I don't need to think about that!"

Wayne and Anthony burst into laughter, the sound echoing down the corridor as they emerged onto the second floor. The lot of them fell silent, however, as a foul odor met them.

"Ugh, did someone let off a dungbomb?" Dru muttered, covering her nose and mouth with her sleeve in an attempt to block the stench.

"A few, smells like," Ginny said in a voice muffled by the collar of her shirt.

"Oh, this is the second floor," Hannah said, gagging slightly before covering her own mouth and nose. "Myrtle's lavatory."

"Probably flooded the pipes again," Megan muttered into a handkerchief.

"That the ghost that haunts a toilet?" Justin asked with a look of mild disgust. "Can't imagine being a ghost and deciding that's my haunting ground."

"I'd haunt the girls' locker rooms on the quidditch pitch, I would," Wayne said, ducking away with another laugh when Megan swung her bag in his direction.

"Would you two cut it out!?" Ernie said, pointing toward the wall near Myrtle's bathroom. "Look!"

In the distance, Dru could see that the floor of the corridor was currently flooded with water that was slowly creeping toward them, and with a curl of her lip she ushered the other two girls back from what had to be toilet water.

"Gross," she muttered.

"D-D…ru," Zinn whispered in her ear, nudging her and pointing to the wall near the puddle. Following her finger, Dru gasped at the sight of words scrawled onto the brickwork, crimson paint that might have been blood still wet and running down the walls in macabre rivulets:

'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.'

"…What's the Chamber of Secrets?" Megan whispered.

"Never heard of it," Wayne said with a shake of his head.

"Is that blood?" Zacharias asked in apparent fascination, making his way closer and sending ripples through the puddle on the floor as he splashed through it.

"Ew, Zacharias, that's toilet water!" Hannah fretted. Heedless of her words, the boy soldiered on while the rest watched in anticipation. Glancing about, Zacharias seemed to spot something in the entrance to the boys' next door, moving closer to inspect it before jolting back and nearly falling into the water.

"Oh, bloody hell!" he said. "There's someone—he's all frozen up, like a statue!"

"Who is it?" Ginny asked, wincing a bit as she splashed her way closer as well. Steeling herself, Dru followed with Zinn hurrying along beside her—she desperately tried to ignore the way the cold water soaked right through her trainers and into her socks. Ew. As they neared, Dru made out the figure of a first-year boy she vaguely recognized, lurking in the doorway to the boys' lavatory.

"I know him," she said as the memory clicked in her head. "That's Dean Thomas. He was right before me during the Sorting. He went to Gryffindor."

"What's happened to him?" Ginny said, waving her hand before Dean's face. "He's frozen."

"Dunno," Dru said, examining the boy. He looked like he'd been on his way out of the lavatory when he'd noticed the puddle on the floor and simply…gotten stuck. His eyes were downcast, his expression one of shock at the state of the corridor. "Could it be some spell?"

"Have to be a powerful one," Susan said, appearing at Dru's elbow. "Really powerful. I don't think even a seventh-year could do something like this."

"What if it was Quirrel?" Zacharias suggested. "That's why he was late."

"Oh, shut up," Hannah huffed. "We should go to McGonagall."

"There will be no need for that," the crisp voice of their Transfiguration professor cut through the babble, bring a total and tense silence to the group. "What are you all doing out of your classroom? Miss Bones!" she held a hand up as the whole class hastened to answer her. "You answer."

"Please, Professor, we were waiting for Professor Quirrel, and he never showed up to class," Susan explained. "So we were on our way to your classroom to tell you and we found this. It's Dean Thomas, ma'am, he's been…frozen."

To her credit, once she found out there was a student that had been harmed, it seemed McGonagall was ready to put aside the matter of their impromptu field trip. With a look of revulsion, she whipped her wand at the floor, which was instantly bone-dry, along with their feet and socks.

Thank goodness.

Striding through the group with the utmost authority, McGonagall's expression of consternation faded to one of shock at the sight of Dean Thomas. Abruptly schooling her features, she turned back toward her classroom, calling toward the open door.

"Maynard! Welkley!"

Two students emerged, and Dru recognized one as the sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect, Robert Maynard, who studied the flock of first-years with evident curiosity.

"What are you lot doing wandering – "

"Maynard," McGonagall cut him off smoothly. "Escort your first-years back to their common room. Remain there with them until I send word."

"Yes, ma'am," Maynard said, turning to the little ones. "C'mon, you lot. Stay close. This all of you?"

"Yes," Susan said.

"Blimey, no one wanted to be left behind, did they?" Maynard said with a chuckle. As they walked along, McGonagall could be heard instructing Candace Welkley to conduct a study session while McGonagall went to Dumbledore.

"Well, Hufflepuffs always stay together, don't they?" Dru pointed out, and Maynard let another jovial laugh.

"You bet they do," he said. "Reckon Snape's figuring that out the hard way."

"Aren't you in the Herbology Club as well?" Dru asked, digging into her pocket and withdrawing a pen and notepad. "The one that's stopped sending Snape their ingredients?"

"Oi, off the record you little nosey," Maynard said with a rueful smile. "But yeah, he's had to spend a bit more of his stipend than he'd prefer, I'll bet."

"What's a stipend?" Dru heard Ginny whisper to Zinn, who shrugged.

"D'you think Snape'll lose his job with all the inspections happening?" Dru asked.

"You've a future as an investigative reporter, I bet," Maynard said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Can't say for sure, but I won't be surprised if they at least tell him to lighten up a bit. I wanted to go for NEWT Potions, you know. There's a lot of overlap between Herbology and Potions. You understand the ingredients, you understand the potions they make. But I had to kiss that dream goodbye. Snape only accepts O-level OWL students, and I got an E."

"But an E is still really good!" Hannah protested.

"That's what Mum said in her howler," Maynard chuckled, and the first-years all laughed at that. "He still dogs me in the corridors when he sees me, but as I'm not in his class, there's not much he can do."

"Robert," Dru asked after a moment, remembering the scrawled words on the wall, "what's the Chamber of Secrets?"

"…Not a clue, kid," he said. "Saw that scribbled on the wall, though. That your next big story?"

"Might be," Dru said, peering over to see Ginny and Zinn watching her. Ginny wore a little grin, while Zinn had look of resigned amusement on her face. "What?"

"You planning to drag us into some horrible mystery?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, it could be a laugh!" Dru insisted.

"Dean Thomas has been turned into a statue or something!" Susan fussed behind them. "I'd stay out of this one, let the teachers handle it."

"He's not…dead, is he?" Megan asked in a small voice.

"I don't know much about petrification, but that looks like a petrification," Maynard said as they descended into the basement. "It's dark magic, real bad-guy stuff, but it's fixable. Just needs a spot of mandrake draught."

"Mandrake?" Dru asked.

"It's a plant," Ernie said. "The root's this massive ugly baby-looking thing that can kill you if you hear it scream at you!"

"You're making that up!" Hannah insisted.

"No, it's true," Maynard said as he rapped his knuckles against the barrel that led to the common room. The door swung open, and he stepped back to usher them through. "They sell them up at the Dogweed and Deathcap in Hogsmeade. Shouldn't be more than a week to get a hold of some and whip up a cure for Dean, and then we'll ask him what he saw, get to the bottom of all this. Now, in, you lot."

"Well, that rather puts a damper on my investigation," Dru muttered, though she could hardly grouse overmuch; poor Dean Thomas would very likely appreciate the quickest solution. "But, in any case, Zinn, we've a letter to write to Mum, don't we?"

"Sh…should we t-t…tell her ab-bout this?" Zinn asked as Crookshanks slunk over and wound between her legs. Dru grinned at her.

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "I can't wait to hear the howler she sends Dumbledore over this."

Yes, plot development! I had a sudden and actually rather fun idea that I wanted to explore, which was what prompted my return to writing this story. It'll still be slice-of-life goodness, just with a plot happening mostly in the background, though Dru's nosiness will probably lead to some antics.

Reviews and feedback are always appreciated!