October had officially arrived in Hogwarts. Hagrid had already begun to harvest the massive pumpkins that grew in his garden, letting some of the second and third years use them for Transfiguration.

Bringing Jack O Lanterns to life was not easy but it was fun to make them sing Thriller in the Great Hall, even if half the population didn't know what that song was. Madam Pomfrey was kept busy with a constant string of sudden colds from both the staff and students.

Aurora Sinistra, their Astronomy teacher was out for two days before she'd been dragged down the infirmary and a pepperup potion shoved down her throat.

Just another reminder not to get on McGonagall's bad side.

Percy had been so worried for the pale-looking Ginny that he'd bullied her into going three times already. It had been a bit funny to see her walking around with steam pouring from under her bright vivid red hair. It kinda gave the impression that her hair was on fire.

The weather wasn't any better. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered against the castle windows for days on end, the lake rose seven inches and the flower beds turned into muddy streams.

Nearly every person, student or teacher alike could be found hanging indoors and away from the torrent of storms that had swept through Hogwarts.

Except for Oliver Wood, whose enthusiasm for training sessions only increased. This is why only a few days before Halloween, Harry found himself standing outside in said weather, coated in mud and dirt from the rain with the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Fine work today, men!" Oliver Wood grinned at his team, unusually chipper despite the downpour that continued to drench them.

"And women," Angelina cut in, glaring at her captain as if he had personally offended her. Her normally dark wavy hair was out of its ponytail and had fizzed up like a big poofy cat that had been electrocuted.

Katie Bell wasn't having much luck either with mud splattered across her clothes and face.

Alicia Spinnet, the only girl on the team who had the sense to wear a hood over her training clothes, was relatively unharmed but she was still clearly unhappy with the very early and intense training.

It was only Oliver, Harry, and the girls as the twins had somehow gotten away with avoiding practice by going to spy on the Slytherins.

"Normally, we'd stop here," Oliver declared, nodding to himself, "but I think we can go for another two hours! Who's with me?"

Oliver shrank as three harsh glares of three very angry girls landed on him.

"Let's just call it then?" He suggested with a nervous smile.

That was how Harry found himself trudging to the Gryffindor common room, tracking muddy footprints through the deserted corridors.

"Did training go well?" Hermione asked with a nervous smile as she caught sight of Harry covered in mud.

"Just Peachy," Harry said, deadpanned.

Mara took one look at him and burst into giggles, enough that she fell out of her seat with a crash, landing on the carpeted floor as she continued to laugh.

"Where's the rest of the team?" Neville asked, curiously.

"Oliver is still doing rounds and Fred and George went to spy on the Slytherin team," Harry answered, roughly as Hermione began digging through her books.

"Aha, this one should work," Hermione declared triumphantly and then pointed her wand level at Harry's clothes and said, "Scourgify."

The dirt and mud-coated on Harry's clothing vanished without a trace, leaving them in the pristine condition they were before he went outside.

"Neat," Neville said, wide-eyed, "Could you do that to make my bed?"

"It's just for cleaning things, Neville," Hermione huffed but looked quite pleased with herself as Harry sent her a thankful smile.

"Thanks, Hermione," He sighed in relief as he took the open spot Mara had fallen from.

"Guys!"

The passage to the common room opened up and in came a blur of red. Ron grinned widely as he ran straight for them, only stopping to heave from the exertion before he glanced up at the group and shouted incomprehensibly. Harry only caught two words "Filch" and "Squib".

"What was that?" Hermione frowned, "You really need to speak clearer, Ronald."

"Filch is a Squib!" Ron all but yelled in the middle of the common room. Several students glanced over at them, startled by the outburst but Ron didn't seem to care as he grinned at them, waiting for a response to his shocking discovery.

"So?" Harry only shrugged.

"Wasn't that obvious?" Hermione frowned in confusion.

"Oh, that makes a lot of sense," Neville nodded casually in response.

Only Mara lurched up from her place on the floor, eyes wide as she gave Ron the reaction he was expecting.

"What?" She gasped, "No way!"

"I know!" Ron turned to Mara, ignoring the others.

"How'd you find out?" Mara asked, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"I ended up getting caught in one of Peeves' pranks and so Filch caught me and while I was there, guess what I saw on his desk? A kwikspell!" Ron explained.

"Those are scams," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "Preying on the hopes of squibs to earn a quick buck? Despicable but effective, unfortunately."

"Why would Filch be wanting to learn a quick spell?" Hermione frowned in thought, "I thought squibs couldn't learn magic?"

"They can't," Harry explained, "and he's not learning a quick spell but a Kwikspell. A bunch of nonsense letters and books claiming they can help squibs learn 'Modern magic' without being a witch or wizard. With how squibs are treated in the wizarding world, you can imagine how desperate some of them might be."

"That's horrible," Hermione spat out, looking quite affronted that someone would even dare to do such a thing. "I can't believe somebody could be so cruel."

"Yeah, yeah, Filch is a sucker but come on, we can use this against Filch next time he tries to give us detention for something stupid!" Ron declared, a smug grin on his face.

"No," Harry said immediately, shutting down that train of thought.

"Wha- why not?" Ron sputtered, shocked by the blatant refusal.

"Because it's not right, Ronald!" Hermione said angrily, "You should've never been looking through his stuff in the first place but now you want to embarrass him just to get out of detention?"

"Oh, come on!" Ron threw his hands in the air, "The bloody coot deserves it! Yesterday, he threatened to hang me by my toes in the dungeon just for dropping a drop of mustard on the table! A drop!"

"You know, I have to agree with them, Ron," Mara piped up, "It wouldn't be right to use this against Filch. He deserves to have his privacy just like anyone else. No matter how annoying he may get. He's already hated, imagine what would happen if you started telling everyone he was a squib? He'd be done for."

"Squibs are treated like third-class citizens in this society, Ron," Neville spoke up, for once being incredibly firm. "Don't make it any worse."

"Oh, fine," Ron rolled his eyes, slinking onto the red couch next to Neville, "You lot and your reasoning and logic."

"Oh no, how terrible," Harry said, sarcastically but then straightened in his seat as he remembered something, "Oh, I do have one piece of interesting news."

"Ooh, what's that?" Mara learned forward, eagerly.

Harry shot her a smirk as just behind them appeared a ghostly visage they were used to seeing.

"Nick!" Mara greeted with a huge smile as he appeared. Despite his somewhat glum appearance, he returned her greeting with a simple, "Oh, hello, hello."

"Did you get into the Headless hunt like you wanted?" Neville asked, conversationally. It had been all Nick had been talking about for days.

There was a lot of great bitterness on his face that just screamed no.

"You would think, wouldn't you," He said, pulling a transparent letter from his doublet and waving it around, "That getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless hunt?"

"Well, yeah," Ron said, "You're headless, aren't you?"

"Nearly headless," Nick sniffed, rather put off, "That's what they call me. Apparently, half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on isn't good enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore! Most people would think that's good and beheaded but no, I'm only nearly headless!"

"Oh," Hermione said awkwardly, "I'm sorry?"

"Ah, a matter of no importance," He waved his ghostly hand, "It's not as though I really wanted to join."

"But didn't you go around saying it was your lifelong dream?" Ron blurted out.

Harry smacked himself in the face, shaking his head as Nick's cheeks turned a bright silverish color. As much of a flush as you'd get from a ghost apparently.

"Nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean and my head had come off properly!" Nick defended himself, "I mean it would've saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule-"

"I'm sorry, Nick," Mara cut in with a frown, "I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless hunt."

Nearly Headless Nick stiffened in place, his eyes latching hungrily onto Mara's form and she squeaked, realizing she had made a critical mistake.

"But there is something you could do for me," said Nick excitedly, "Mar – would I be asking too much – but no, you wouldn't want–"

As he went back and forth, Mara took pity on the poor ghost and asked, "What is it, Nick? I'll help if I can."

Harry shook his head at his sister's naivety. Caught in a trap and she didn't even know it.

"Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday," Nearly Headless Nick said, drawing himself up like he was posing for a dignified painting.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said at the same time that Neville said, "Congratulations."

The two looked at each other confused.

Nick paid them no mind. "I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honor if you would attend. You all would be most welcome, too, of course!"

With how delighted the nearly headless ghost looked, it was hard to say the rejection that Mara had on the tip of her tongue.

"Um," She said.

His face fell, "Oh- I should've realized. I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast, wouldn't you?"

"No," Mara corrected quickly, a bit too energetically, "I'll come–"

"Fabulous!" Nick cheered, "Mara Potter at my deathday party. Oh, and do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me? It'd be a great help."

"Of— of course," Mara said, forcefully smiling.

Nick beamed before he shot off, waving his letter and declaring to the rest of the common room that Mara was coming to his birthday party. A lot of glances were shot her way and Mara grabbed one of Hermione's books, standing it up so she could duck behind it.

"Guess we're going to a deathday party," Harry said, crossing his arms, "I didn't really want to attend the feast anyway, considering…last year's incident. Plus I've never seen a deathday party before. You guys can go to the feast though."

"I'd be delighted to go," Hermione clapped her hands together, "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those – it'll be fascinating! This could be an optimal chance to study ghosts! I can ask Nick all the questions I've been dying to ask."

"Pun not intended," Mara added, casually.

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" grumbled Ron, "Sounds dead depressing to me."

"Pun intended," Mara nodded to herself.

"I'd like to go. I'm pretty sure the Weasley Twins have something planned for Halloween anyway," Neville frowned, "I heard them discussing bats the other day and when I asked them what they were talking about, they just hurried away."

The group of twelve-year-olds shuddered all at once, like a great force of terror had struck them all at once and Ron's eyes narrowed as he stared at the entrance.

"Speak of the devils," He said bitterly just before the door flung open and the grinning mischievous brothers clambered in.

"Behold!" Fred thrust his arms above his head, declaring for all of the common room to see. The countless students who sat reading, talking, and doing homework stopped to watch.

"Is that…" Mara asked, her mouth wide open.

"Unfortunately," Harry sighed.

"We have rescued this poor defenseless creature!" George boasted, grinning just as widely as his twin as all eyes stared up at the creature Fred was wielding over his head.

A brilliant orange coloring with a long windy tail, the fire-dwellin amphibian creature puffed out a ring of smoke from its mouth as it licked its long tongue against its large bright orange eyeballs.

"You kidnapped a Fire-dwelling salamander?" Hermione screeched, looking quite pale.

"Yeah," Ron said, quietly, "Maybe a deathday party wouldn't be so bad."

Soon, the day of Halloween arrived, and with it, Nick's Deathday Party. By that time, however, Mara and Ron were severely regretting their decision to go. The rest of the school was anticipating their annual Halloween feast.

The Great Hall had been decorated with live bats swooping from the ceiling, Hagrid's pumpkin patch had been harvested and carved into jack-o-lanterns large enough for three men to sit in and there were rumors Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for entertainment.

But Mara had promised and so at seven o clock, Harry and Hermione dragged the rest of their gang off to the deathday party. Breena had decided to take a cat nap in the dorm room and Aura had decided to head off for a hunt after Harry had nearly caught her trying to eat Scabbers, much to Ron's ire.

"A promise is a promise," Hermione said, bossily, dragging Mara around as Harry led Neville and Ron right past the packed Great Hall, which looked temptingly inviting. The cheers and smells from the feast were one thing but the golden plates and candles made it look just magical.

But they trudged onwards to the dungeons.

"They better have food at this," Ron's stomach grumbled unhappily.

"I don't see why they would," Hermione said, curiously, "They're ghosts. They can't eat, can they?"

"I don't think so," Harry shook his head, "But I'm not the expert on ghosts."

The passageway to Nearly Headless Nick's party was lined with candles, though the effect was far from the cheerful great hall. These were long, thin, and jet-black tapers, all burning a bright blue that cast an eerie ghostly glow over their own living faces.

With how cold it was in the dungeons, the deathday party was turning into a fantastic decision already. Especially as they heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping along an enormous blackboard coming from the end of the hall.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered incredulously and they turned the corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at the doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," He said mournfully, "Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…"

None of the five twelve-year-olds had known that they had been expecting to see at a deathday party but this was not it.

The dungeon was full of hundreds of translucent people, drifting around on the dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful caterwaul of third musical saws. A chandelier overhead blazed with more black candles and eerie blue lights and it was so cold that their breath rose in a mist.

"Did we step into a freezer?" Mara shivered.

"Mara!" A cheerful voice called out through the hundreds of ghosts. It was a flash of bright red and Mara gasped in surprise as Lily Moon stepped through the calpacades of ghosts and right up to them.

"I didn't know you were invited too," Lily said, happily. She was like a beam of sunshine in the middle of a graveyard as she beamed at them genuinely. Her messenger bag was tucked by her side as always but she was dressed in a more casual purple sweater dress.

"Lily? Nick invited you?" Mara asked, confused.

"Of course," Lily laughed, "I'm friends with most of the ghosts in the castle. The Fat Friar is a hoot to talk with and the Grey Lady knows so many interesting stories. I haven't quite cracked the Bloody Baron, yet but I'll get there, I'm sure."

Mara was almost impressed as a few ghosts floated by, giving their greetings and smiles to Lily, who greeted them by name.

"Real creepy, isn't it?" A sly voice asked from behind her and Mara jumped, turning to the new offender. Another breathing person stood there. Killian Grey leaned against the wall, looking unusually tense.

"You too?" Mara declared.

Killian sighed. "I'm just here to babysit those two." He thumbed over to one of the corners and Mara's jaw nearly dropped.

Her eyes set first on the Bloody Baron, the gaunt Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains. He had always been creepier than the other ghosts for he never said a word, only the sound of chains around his neck and feet rattling gave any clue he was near.

Right by his side were two blonde little first-year-olds dressed in Ravenclaw blue and bronze. One Mara recognized and one she didn't.

"Isn't that the girl from the bookstore?" Mara asked aloud.

"Malfoy's sister?" Ron growled, swerving his head around to search for the offending figure, "She's here?"

"Over there. Do you know that girl? And why is she not wearing any shoes?" Mara wondered.

That caught Harry's attention and he glanced over at the two first years, his eyes going wide.

"Isn't that that creepy girl from the train?" Hermione blurted.

"Luna Lovegood," Killian replied, "Daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, author of the Quibbler. She's an odd nut but she's rather taken to Malfoy's little sister. They've been glued to one another since term started and unfortunately for me, I have to watch the two of them."

"Why?" Harry asked, glancing at Killian meaningfully.

Killian smirked, "You could say it was an exchange of services."

"Oh, gross," Ron cried as he walked straight through one of the ghosts. That turned out to be a massive mistake.

"Oh, no," Hermione said, stopping abruptly, "Turn back, turn back." She furiously grabbed Harry and Mara and tried to tug them away but it was too late.

"Gross?" A wailing voice called out, "Is that all you have to say to me? Walk through me and call me gross? Stupid miserably moaning, moping Myrtle is gross!"

Ron paled as he stared at the squat ghost of a girl he had walked through. She had the glumest face Mara had ever seen, half-hidden behind thick spectacles and lank hair. Fat silvery tears rolled down her face as she wailed unhappily.

"Uh, sorry about that?" Ron asked, unsurely.

"Oh, Bollocks," Hermione said under her breath and then swooped in between Ron and Myrtle with the best smile she could muster as she said in a falsely bright voice, "How are you, Myrtle? It's nice to see you out of the toilet."

Myrtle sniffed pitifully.

"You're making fun of me!" She said, tears welling rapidly in her small eyes.

"No, honestly –" Hermione tried to smooth over but Myrtle only let out another wail, beginning another meltdown before-

"Your glasses look quite smart on you, Myrtle," A shy voice piped up, saving Hermione from the disaster that was Moaning Myrtle.

Carina Malfoy and her friend, Luna Lovegood had made their way over. The little Malfoy gazed at the ghost with a sincere and shy look, absolutely nothing like her family.

"You're just making fun of me!" Myrtle cried, the waterworks beginning again but Carina shook her head.

"No, I noticed you cleaned them for the party. It must've taken some work," Carina said, kindly, "You should wear them like that for your deathday party. I was hoping to attend if you'd let me."

"Oh," Myrtle blushed, a silvery color, "Thank you."

Crisis averted. Harry stared stunned at how easily the little Malfoy had handled it and once Myrtle was properly handled, she floated off, the peace of the party kept without incident.

"Uh, who was that?" Harry asked bewildered.

"Moaning Myrtle," Hermione sighed, "She haunts one of the toilets in the girl's bathroom on the first floor."

"She haunts a toilet?" Ron gaped.

"Yes. It's been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you–"

"Look, food!" Ron exclaimed, a one-track mind as always as he took off to a long table covered in black velvet. The silver platters of food were hard to miss.

"I wouldn't," Luna Lovegood piped up, serene lit to her voice as she stared at the wall, "You'll get food poisoning and in one universe, you die from salmonella."

Ron halted in his tracks, staring at her with wide eyes before he shrugged, "I'll take that risk."

He rushed off to the table. Neville sighed as he rushed off to stop him.

"How could you possibly know that?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms doubtfully as she turned to Luna.

"She's actually probably right," Lily agreed with a small smile, "The ghosts can't eat or smell so they rot their food to give it a stronger flavor when they pass through it. It doesn't really work but it's close enough."

Sure enough, they spotted a ghost floating right through the table, his mouth held wide so that it passed through a silver plate of salmon. He only looked disappointed in the end, though.

"I'd actually like to see him try the haggis," Killian smirked, "It'll be interesting to see what happens."

Killian followed them just as a sharp wail came from the other side of the room as Moaning Myrtle began to sob once more. Peeves- dressed in a bright orange party hat, a revolting puce bow tie and a broad grin on his wide wicked face was dancing around her in circles, crying "Pimply! Pimply! Pimply!"

"Oh, dear, I'd better help," Carina said softly as she headed for Myrtle.

"I'll come with you," Lily called, looking extremely concerned for the moaning ghost.

"Enjoying yourselves?" Nearly Headless Nick asked as he drifted towards them through the crowd.

"Oh, yes," Harry and Hermione lied.

But Mara only grimaced in response.

"Not a bad turnout," Nick said, proudly, "It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and–"

But the orchestra had fallen silent and they and everyone else in the dungeon looked around in excitement as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go," Nick said bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly began to clap loudly- and Neville politely started to clap along until he caught the growing glum look on Nick's face and quickly tucked his hands behind his back. It was easy to deduce exactly who had just burst into the party from that.

The head horse galloped into the middle of the dance floor and reared, giving a ghostly and echoing screech that very much did not sound like a horse at all. At the front of the pack was a large armored ghost carrying a bearded head tucked under his harm from which he was blowing the horn despite having no lungs.

"How'd they get the horses, you think? Surely they weren't executed with them," Hermione wondered aloud.

"It's the Headless Hunt," Nearly Headless Nick grumbled, "Come, you must meet Sir Patrick and tell him how terrifying I am!"

Nick whooshed off to meet his new guests and Mara blinked in surprise, turning to her brother as she pointed at herself in question. He nodded, gesturing to follow and she groaned, hanging her head as she followed after the ghost.

"Oh! This is a perfect chance to learn more about ghosts!" Hermione beamed. She rushed off to follow Mara leaving Harry alone with Luna Lovegood.

Harry sighed, leaning against the wall as he eyed the unusual girl beside him. She was humming something, a song that sounded familiar but not.

Harry glanced at Ron, Neville, and Killian at the food table, all of them staring disgustedly at the plates, which to Lily's credit must've been rotten like she said. Ron was looking rather horrified at the large "cake" settled in the middle of the table. An enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone with tar-like icing that spelled out "Sir Nicholas De Mimsy-Porpington. Died 31st October 1492".

Across the room, Lily and Carina were still trying to calm down Moaning Myrtle as Peeves continued his little song and dance, spraying a bowl of fungus-covered peanuts over the ghost, which simply fell through her and dropped to the floor of course.

Mara and Hermione were properly attempting to hold a conversation with the leader of the Headless Hunt, Sir Patrick who was paying Nick no mind and attempting to start a game of Head hockey with his fellow members.

Nick tried to regain his audience by delivering his speech which turned out to be quite useless as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers from the guests. Nick glumly gave up, standing sourly by his cake that no one was able to cut and serve.

"Well, this is depressing," Harry mumbled to himself, just thinking about leaving early and heading to the feast after all when two very pale silvery eyes appeared in front of him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Luna Lovegood said, mysteriously. "You don't want to be wandering the halls right now."

"Why?" Harry asked, cautiously, not afraid of admitting that this Luna girl really freaked him out.

She hummed, tilting her head as she seemingly saw straight through him. It sent chills down his spine as her eyes glowed a bright white for a moment – a faint but familiar glow. Harry saw the same glow appear on the girl's inner left wrist like it was lighting up the room but only half as bright.

Startled, Harry looked at her with wide eyes before it was over, everything was normal once more.

Luna's lips were curled into a knowing smile.

"You–" He stumbled over his words but she just shook her head.

"There are works at play you cannot understand. You have awakened but you have not answered the call," Luna said, mysteriously, "We must master Time before the last snow falls."

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded, a glimmer of hope in his chest as he faced the one person who might know the answers to what had been happening to him and his sister.

Luna just smiled and before Harry could grab her and demand a straight answer, Killian and Carina had returned.

"There you are," Killian said, irritatedly, "It's time for you two to get back to the common room."

"Of course," Luna smiled amicably.

"Thank you again for accompanying us," Carina said, sweetly, "I very much appreciate it."

"Whatever, just get going," Killian grumbled but he wasn't as displeased as he seemed. As he passed by Harry, he heard him mumbling to himself.

"I do think we should stop by the kitchens on our way," Luna said, sending Harry a knowing smile, "But if you wanted some pudding, I don't think the Great Hall is finished yet. Though you probably shouldn't go that way."

Harry frowned at the hint, wanting to ask so many questions but the ghosts were working for the Headmaster and Harry still didn't trust Albus Dumbledore. Revealing any secrets here would only end badly.

"Happy Halloween," Mara returned just in time to call out to the three of them as they headed out.

"Happy Samhain, Miss Potter," Carina replied shyly before ducking her head and following Killian out.

"Samhain?" Neville asked as he and Ron came up beside them, "I thought they replaced it with Halloween years ago?"

"Not replaced," Lily spoke up, smiling as she told them, "It's simply a dying religion. Halloween is more relatable due to the Western influence. As such, when more muggleborns were accepted to the school, it was easier for the muggle holidays to replace the traditional ones. Old families still celebrate the wheel as our ancestors did."

"You mean the Wiccan Wheel?" Hermione frowned.

"It was originally ours, the Wiccan faith was started by squibs in the non-magical world," Harry replied easily.

"Halloween's better if you ask me," Ron shrugged, his teeth chattering from the cold, "Free candy, masks, and pumpkin pies. Which we're missing by the way. Can we go?"

"Oh, right," Mara nodded, "I hope the house Elves at least saved us a few slices."

The group plus Lily who decided to tag along quickly made their escape into the passageway, sighing in relief as they left. Ron took the lead in heading straight for the entrance hall and Harry wondered about the weird advice he'd gotten from Luna.

"Pudding might not be finished yet," said Ron hopefully, his mouth watering at the thought of the Halloween desserts.

But dessert was the last thing on Harry's mind. The warning from Luna Lovegood had settled in his head like a bad omen and there was a bad feeling in his gut telling him that something was wrong.

"Maybe we should just head to bed-" Harry suggested but cut off when he heard something. It was faint, almost impossibly hard to hear but Harry heard it.

"...rip….tear….kill…"

Harry halted in his tracks, paling as he turned around. The hall was empty but he knew he had just heard that voice again- the same cold, murderous voice he had heard picking up Mara from Lockhart's office.

Determined to find the answer, Harry clutched the stone wall, pressing his ear against it with all his might as he listened intently for any sign of the voice.

"Harry, what're you doing?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"Yeah, the Great Hall's this way-" Ron complained but Harry shushed them, glancing at Mara, who had turned a very alarming shade of pale.

"Did you hear it too?" He asked his sister.

"Hear what?" Her voice was incredibly high pitched, too squeaky as she stepped away from the walls like they were cursed. "I heard nothing- I'm not hearing things. I'm-"

"Shut up!" Harry hissed as the same voice whispered again.

"...soo hungry…for so long…"

Mara squeaked, looking ready to faint but the rest of the group only sent them weird looks.

"Do you hear it?" Harry asked Hermione, who only looked around for help, clearly internally panicking.

"Harry, we don't hear anything," Neville is the one who spoke up, an alarmed look on his face. "What's going on here?"

"...kill…..time to kill…."

Mara and Harry flinched, both staring straight at the wall as the voice got fainter. Harry was sure it was moving, upward and a mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling above them.

How could it possibly be moving upward? A phantom? Is a ghost playing a prank?

"This way!" He shouted and he took off into a run, up the stairs towards the entrance hall. It had been in the general direction of movement but the talk from the feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted up the staircase to the first floor, not bothering to look if his friends were still following.

"Harry!" Ron complained as he passed by the Great Hall.

"SHH!"

Harry listened, straining his ears and there, he caught it again. Distantly from the floor above and growing fainter still.

"...I smell blood….I SMELL BLOOD!"

His stomach lurched-

"It's going to kill someone," Mara said in a deathly pale whisper, staring directly at the ceiling above them.

"What?" Hermione screeched, bewildered.

"There's no time to explain! Hurry-" Harry, with his friend straight on his heels ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, struggling to listen over his own pounding footsteps, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Harry, what the bloody hell was that all about?" Said Ron, wiping sweat off his face as he leaned on the wall.

"Harry and I have been hearing voices in the wall and now it's going to kill somebody!" Mara blurted out, hyperventilating as she clutched her head in pain. Harry stiffened, spotting the faint light pink color bursting under her hair.

Lily had noticed as well and before Harry could even think to jump in to help, she'd pulled Mara to the side, gently coaxing her through the panic attack.

"Hey, calm down, it's okay, nobody's going to die," Lily muttered to her soothingly.

"Voices?" Hermione whirled on Harry with wide, accusing eyes. "You're hearing voices in the wall?"

"Great, if I get something else stabbed through my leg, I will disown you both," Neville stared daggers at him. "If I die, you will attend my deathday party every single year, I swear to Merlin, Harry-"

"Nobody's going to die!" Hermione threw her hands up, looking cross but unfortunately for all of them, Ron had a different opinion.

"Uh, I think someone already has," Ron said numbly, staring at the wall just ahead of them.

Harry whirled around, squinting through the darkness as they approached the wall Ron was standing in front of. That bad feeling in his stomach tripled as Harry pulled out his wand, and flicked it silently and the glow from Lumos revealed what he was staring at to them.

There, between the two windows and shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches and the Lumos of Harry's wand, were words written four feet up the wall in a disgustingly dark red and dripping color that was clearly not paint.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"Is that…blood?" Hermione muttered pale.

"Yes," Harry said affirmatively, having seen enough of it to know by now. Hermione shuddered, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"What's that thing," Ron swallowed, "Hanging underneath?"

Harry stepped closer, almost slipping as they only now noticed the massive puddle of water on the floor. Ron and Neville grabbed him to steady him and Harry nodded at them in thanks, before stepping closer to the message.

With his eyes fixed on the dark shadow beneath it, all of them realized exactly what it was at the exact same time.

Harry jumped backward with a splash just as Lily gasped loudly, covering her mouth with a horrified look.

It was Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring and her fangs still bared at an invisible enemy.

For a few seconds, they didn't move. Too shocked and utterly dismayed at what they had found before Ron grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him backward with a grim look, and said firmly, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help-" Neville began awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.

"Trust me," Ron sent him a very serious look. "We don't want to be found here with this."

"He's right." Harry agreed, turning on his heel but it was too late.

The sound of the marching of footsteps was already approaching, announcing the end of the feast as from either end of the corridor where they stood came hundreds of loud, happy, and well-fed students.

The prefects stopped cold in their tracks, of all different houses, their eyes latching onto the six kids and then to the bloody words on the wall.

All of the noise died away like a scream being cut off and all eyes were upon the group of second-years, who no doubt looked absolutely guilty standing alone in the middle of the corridor, right in front of the most grisly sight any of them had seen.

"We're bloody fucked," Ron cursed.

Harry suddenly spotted the familiar face of Luna Lovegood standing beside the Ravenclaws with a small frown on her face. Meeting his eyes, she mouthed something that he could only barely catch, something that made his blood run cold.

'I warned you.'