Chapter 12: A/N I do not own Harry Potter, there are verbatim sentences from the actual books, those aren't mine. So, my computer broke over Christmas hols and I also was having trouble logging onto my account. Sorry for the wait. Big treat though, for those who read my other fic, I'll be updating that one soon. Maybe next week. I just have to finish the Mark of Nimueh episode and It's proving hard to do after writing Harry Potter for a while. Hope you like this. I swear It wasn't writer's block, I just didn't have access to any of my files. I wrote this one on my brother's computer, but I can't exactly be begging him to give me his computer all the time to write fanfic, he'd probably disown me, say it's a waste of my time and blah blah blah. But I like it, it's a creative outlet.
Halloween came far too soon for some people's taste. Harry was having second thoughts about agreeing so quickly to go to Sir Nick's Deathday Party. Cassie, on the other hand, was having a partial meltdown, she had no clue what one wore to a deathday party! Merlin told her she could just go in her school robes, seeing as he and the three Gryffindors would be going dressed like that. But not Cassie. She liked to dress up for all occasions. After all, there is no such thing as being overdressed, which she immediately pointed out to Merlin. She ended up wearing a navy blue tea length, straight across dress that had lilies of the valley embroidered from the waistline across the front of the dress diagonally to the hem and a straight across neckline with baby pink heels and a light pink satin headband.
"You might want a cloak. It gets cold among so many ghosts." Merlin told her when he saw her.
"Thanks." Cassie said with a smile, running back up to her dorm and grabbing her black velvet floor length cloak with the silver clasps. "Ready?" she asked when she went back down. All the other kids had already gone to the Halloween feast in the Great Hall and they were the last two left in the common room.
"After you." Merlin said, holding out his arm for her to take. "Let's grab some food from the kitchens first. The ghosts won't have anything edible at their party, and I have a feeling Harry, Hermione, and Ron won't know that." Merlin said, looking at her sideways.
"Won't that just give the house elves more work?"
"No, they'll have food there."
"Whatever you say, Merlin." Cassie said, allowing him to steer her towards the kitchens before going down into the dungeons for the party.
"In that case, may I just say how beautiful you look tonight?" Merlin said, laying the charm on thick.
"You may, good sir." Cassie said smiling, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks "And may I say you could look just as dapper, if you'd only let me transfigure your school robes."
"No," Merlin said, shaking his head and smiling. He tickled the pear and walked into the kitchens, greeting all the house elves. "Would you be so kind as to pack us a few roast beef sandwiches and some shepherd's pie, with some of your delicious desserts?"
"Right away Master Merlin! Would Miss Cassie like anything?"
"A ham and beef sandwich? With cheese, please." Cassie said with a smile.
"Ham and beef? You must be hungry." Merlin said with a smirk.
"No, I just like meat!" Cassie said, smiling broadly at him. They thanked the house elves profusely and left, descending into the dungeons and finding a miserable looking group of Gryffindors. The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, though the effect was far from cheerful: These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took.
"Thanks for the tip about the cloak." Cassie said, seeing her breath in the air.
"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome... so pleased you could come..."
He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside. It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.
They found the three Gryffindors on the other side of the dungeons, near what seemed to be a table of food, sporting equally miserable looks. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in fuzzy green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words, SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492
"Can you taste it if you walk through it?" Harry asked a portly ghost.
"Almost." he answered sadly before floating away.
"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor," said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.
"There you are! We were beginning to think you wouldn't show up." Ron said, looking at Cassie with wide eyes.
"We had to make a stop first." Merlin said, "Although, we might want to move a bit farther from the table first."
"Definitely. I feel sick." Ron said, agreeing with Merlin.
They turned and managed to move a few feet before a little man wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face moved to float in midair before them.
"Hello Peeves." Harry said cautiously.
"Nibbles?" he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.
"No thanks," Hermione said.
"Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," said Peeves, his eyes dancing. " Rude you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed, "OY! MYRTLE!"
"Oh great!" Merlin and Cassie groaned under their breath as Hermione frantically begged Peeves not to tell her. The squat ghost of a girl glided over to them, face half-hidden behind lank hair and pearly spectacles.
"-er, hello Myrtle" Hermione said.
"What?" Myrtle asked sulkily.
"How are you, Myrtle? It's nice to see you out of the toilet." Hermione said amiably-well forced- to which Myrtle just sniffled.
"Miss Granger was just talking about you -" said Peeves slyly in Myrtle's ear. "Just saying-"
"Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight," said Hermione, glaring at Peeves. Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously when she saw the glare.
"You're making fun of me," she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.
"No - honestly - didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?" said Hermione, nudging Harry and Ron painfully in the ribs and looking pointedly at Cassie and Merlin.
"Oh, yeah-" Harry said half-heartedly, same as Ron.
"She did-"
Cassie and Merlin just nodded their heads, not wanting to send the girl crying any quicker.
"Don't lie to me," Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder. "D'you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!"
"You've forgotten pimply," Peeves hissed in her ear.
Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with moldy peanuts, yelling, " Pimply! Pimply! "
"Oh, dear," said Hermione sadly.
"Peeves can be so mean! If someone said those things to my face I would be just the same as Myrtle." Cassie said just as sadly.
Nearly Headless Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd.
"Enjoying yourselves?"
"Oh, yes," they lied.
"I wanted to extend my sincerest condolences for today, Sir Nicholas. I'm glad to see so many of your fellow ghosts and friends showed up!" Cassie said jovially, making the ghost smile as warmly as he could at her.
"Why thank you, Cassie! You look splendid, as always. Not a bad turnout," said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent... It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra..."
The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.
"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.
"Don't worry Nick. You're too good for them anyways!" Merlin told him, cheering him up some.
"Thank you, Merlin!" Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly; Harry, and Hermione started to clap, too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nick's face.
The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.
"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?" He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.
"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.
"Live uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting the five students and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).
"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.
"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow-"
"I think," said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, "Nick's very - frightening and - er-"
"Ha!" yelled Sir Patrick's head."Bet he asked you to say that!"
"No, not at all! Sir Nick is one of the scarier ghosts in Hogwarts castle! We don't have anyone the likes of Sir Nick at Beauxbatons." Cassie piped up from beside Harry. The five of them were huddled together to retain some warmth.
"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick loudly, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight. "My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow..." Unfortunately, Sir Patrick had begun a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.
"I can't stand much more of this," Ron muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.
"Let's go," Harry agreed.
"I'll just go and bid Sir Nick a lovely Deathday and see you out there." Cassie said. "Sir Nick! Thank you for extending your invitation to us. We really must leave now, it's quite chilly down here and my companions are getting hungry. I do hope you have a splendid rest of your party!" Cassie said.
"Thank you, Cassie. Have a nice night!" he said, turning to talk to another of his ghosts after she turned to leave.
"Come on. I'm freezing! Should have worn stockings!" Cassie said, rubbing her legs on the stairs quickly before catching up to them.
"Harry, what're you -?" Merlin started to ask him but was cut off.
"It's that voice again- shut up a minute."
"Listen!" said Harry urgently, and Ron, Cassie and Hermione froze, watching him. Merlin tried hearing what Harry heard, but nothing sounded.
"This way," he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind him and Merlin and Cassie only a few paces behind them.
"Harry, what're we-" Hermione tried asking but was shushed strongly by Harry.
"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces and Merlin's and Cassie's alarmed faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps - Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, the four panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything..."
"Look!" Hermione and Cassie gasped simultaneously, pointing down the corridor.
Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Cassie looked at Merlin from the side of her eye. She felt rather than saw him stiffen, almost panicking. She could hear his thoughts going a kilometer away.
"What's that thing - hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.
As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped - there was a large puddle of water on the floor; Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward, Merlin and Cassie getting their legs soaked from the splash. It took only a second longer before Cassie saw exactly what had startled them so.
Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.
For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."
"Shouldn't we try and help -" Harry began awkwardly.
"No!" Cassie and Merlin said at the same time while Ron said, "Trust me, we don't want to be found here."
But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends. The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry and the other four stood alone in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.
"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, mudbloods!" Malfoy said through the quiet of the corridor, his usually pale, face flushed and his eyes alive as he grinned at the sight of the hanging cat.
What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked. "You!" he screeched, his eyes falling on Harry. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"
"Argus!" Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past the five students and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.
"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Gratien, Mr. Rhydderch"
Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free-"
"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore. The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight while Merlin and Cassie stayed standing, watching to see what had happened to Mrs. Norris.
The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile.
And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions. "It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her..." Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as she abhorred Filch, Cassie couldn't help the tears that were forming in her eyes at his anguish.
Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened. She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.
"...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once..." The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net.
At last Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.
Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.
"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"
"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say..."
"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.
"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced-"
"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found - in my office - he knows I'm a - I'm a -" Filch's face worked horribly. "He knows I'm a Squib!" he finished squeakily.
"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls. "And I don't even know what a Squib is."
"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"
"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows, and Harry's sense of foreboding increased; he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good. "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"
Harry, Ron and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the deathday party. "...there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there-"
"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?"
"Merlin thought ahead. He-we went to the kitchens just before joining the ghosts at Sir Nick's party. Here's the basket. I'm pretty sure there's some treacle tart left, Professor." Cassie said, offering them the basket she held in her hand, Merlin just stood there, observing the cat and not saying a thing at all.
"Yes, but I'm sure Weasley was still hungry. He eats like a horse." Snape drawled, ignoring the basket in Cassie's hand.
"Because - because -" Harry said, his heart thumping very fast; something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear, "because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," he said.
"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest."
"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."
Dumbledore, meanwhile, was looking at Harry intently, studying him with twinkling light-blue eyes that seemed as though he were looking into his very soul.
"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.
So did Filch. "My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"
"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."
"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep-"
"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school." There was a very awkward pause.
"You may go," Dumbledore said to the five students.
They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, much to the Hufflepuff's annoyance, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Harry squinted at his friends' darkened faces.
"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" he asked warily.
"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."
Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"
"Course I do," said Ron quickly. "But - you must admit it's weird..."
"I know it's weird," said Harry. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened ... What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once... might've been Bill..."
"Salazar Slytherin was said to have built a secret chamber somewhere. That's all I know." Merlin answered curtly.
"And what on earth's a Squib?" said Harry, taking in what Merlin had said about the chamber.
To his surprise, Ron stifled a snigger. "Well - it's not funny really - but as it's Filch," he said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much." Ron gave a satisfied smile. "He's bitter."
"I'm sure you would be too, if you were the only one of seven to not have magic!" Cassie said, defending the caretaker, even though she disliked him as much as the next person.
"Are you seriously defending him?!" Ron asked incredulously, his mouth hanging open.
"Yes. The man has just had his only friend in the world petrified! He deserves some sympathy. Besides, I'm still feeling bad for the whole frog-brains-on-the-ceiling-thing he had to clean up alone." Cassie said sheepishly just as a clock sounded from somewhere.
"Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else. See you tomorrow, guys." he told the two Hufflepuffs as they parted on the Grand Staircase.
"Bye, Harry." they said at the same time.
For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. The second year Hufflepuffs all gathered around Merlin and Cassie and demanded to know the story. Much to their disappointment, the two remained tight-lipped and outright refused to acknowledge the other's presence if they brought it up. Cassie had half a mind to help Filch with the writing, but quickly changed her mind when he yelled at her and gave her detention with Lockhart for 'looking happy'.
The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Cassie was often seen with her in the library, carrying books back and forth and scribbling notes down. Nor could Merlin, Harry and Ron get much response from them when they asked what they were up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out. Harry found Ron and Merlin at the back of the library, Ron measuring his History of Magic homework as Merlin read over his. Professor Binns had asked for a three foot long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards;" and Ron barely got two and a half, while Merlin had a good eight inches of the essay. "I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short! And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny. Not to Mention Merlin has eight freakin' inches! How much did you do Cassie?" Ron asked her. She barely registered the question as she was thinking deeply at that moment. "Cassie?" Ron asked again, shaking her shoulder.
"What? Oh, sorry. Daydreaming. What was the question?" she said, flushing deep red.
"How long's your History of Magic essay?"
"Oh, um six inches I think, Why?"
"Ugh! I'm hopeless!"
"Where is Hermione?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.
"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald." Cassie said simply, turning back to her Charms homework.
Harry told them about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him.
"He's being ridiculous! They think that you were the one who petrified the cat and now they're convinced you're after Justin!" Cassie said in an annoyed tone rolling her eyes.
"Great." Harry said dejectedly.
"Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great-"
"Don't worry. It'll blow over soon. They don't actually think that. They're just scared." Merlin said, rolling his eyes at Cassie exasperatedly.
Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them.
"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."
"Why do you want it?" said Harry.
"Guess." Cassie said sarcastically as Hermione said "The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."
"What's that?" said Harry quickly.
"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else-"
"I doubt you will, 'Mione. I've helped you look, and nothing. Maybe in the restricted section, but I doubt anyone's going to sign something out to look up the chamber." Cassie said, still looking away thoughtfully. "What exactly do you know about it Merlin? You mentioned something that night, but I can't really remember." Cassie asked Merlin, taking in all his reactions.
"All I know is that it's Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber. Honestly. I'm sure people have searched the school up and down to find it, but… well it's obviously never been found." he said.
"Where did you hear about it, or read about it?" Hermione asked excitedly.
"I don't remember. I think I heard about it from one of my uncle's friends. I'm not sure." Merlin said carefully, noticing how Cassie was analyzing him closely.
"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch as the essay was due next period.
"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it-"
"I only need another two inches, come on-" Ron pleaded.
"No." Hermione said sternly.
"Cassie? Please?!" he begged.
"Sorry, Ron. I don't think I could stand Hermione's withering look. Besides, it's on my nightstand." Cassie told him, looking at him plaintively.
"Hermione, please!" Ron kept on, even after the bell rang for class and the three Gryffindors left for History of Magic.
"Let's go. We'll be late for Potions. And you know how much Snape loves it when we're late!" Merlin told Cassie grinning cheekily.
"Après-vous, monsieur." Cassie said, straightening up and motioning with her hand for him to continue.
"What, age before beauty?" he said with the same stupid grin.
"More like brawn before brains." Cassie muttered back just as cheekily.
After the potions lesson and dropping off their belongings in their dorms, and changing for dinner, Cassie and Merlin took off to find Harry and the others.
"They shouldn't be very far. The corridors are always crowded to get back and they were pretty far away from the Gryffindor Tower." Merlin said, waiting for Cassie outside the door to the girls' dorms.
"Hmm. Merlin?" Cassie said as she took his arm and let him lead her out of the common room.
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't you telling them the truth?"
"What?" Merlin asked, startled.
"About the chamber. You're not telling the whole story. You know more, I'm sure of it."
"Slytherin was said to have left a monster within the chamber that only he or his Heir could control." Merlin told her quietly, looking around to make sure nobody heard.
"But why keep it from them?"
"You've heard what they did last year. I'm sure they're off trying to figure it out as we speak! Do you really think I'd tell them and have them go off and try to find it!? " Merlin asked urgently.
"Well, no. But it's not like they're that stupid."
"They fought a troll a month into their first year. I think they are that stupid when it comes to some things." Merlin said with a pointed look.
"Still. They should know. You heard Filch, Harry could get expelled!" Cassie whispered furiously at him as they wound their way up the staircase towards Gryffindor tower.
"Yeah, come on." Merlin said, grabbing her hands and leading her off the main staircase through the corridor where the attack had occurred. "I'll tell them, I will!" he said when Cassie looked at him in disbelief with a raised eyebrow.
"Why are we even going through here? They'll be at the Great Hall by the time we get to Gryffindor Tower."
"I have a feeling they'll be investigating."
"Okay, at least it's not as crowded as the Grand Staircase." Cassie said, allowing him to pull her towards the end of the corridor.
"Guys! Merlin's remembered something else about the chamber!" Cassie said as they finally found them.
"If it's about the monster, we know. Hermione had the brilliant idea of asking Binns." Ron said..
"Oh." Cassie said, her smile faltering a little.
"Told you so." Merlin couldn't help but say.
""Come and look at this!" said Hermione. "This is funny… Have you ever seen spiders act like that?"
"No, have you Ron? Ron?" Harry asked, looking over his shoulder to see Ron and Cassie resisting the urge to turn tail and run.
"What's up?" said Harry.
"I don't like spiders." Cassie whispered at the same time that Ron gritted the same thing out tersely.
"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times..."
""I don't mind them dead," said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move..."
"I don't like them at all." Cassie said in a slightly quaking voice.
Hermione giggled.
"It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick... You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and..." he broke off, shuddering, as Hermione kept stifling her laughter. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."
"Around here. Near this lavatory." Merlin said, ignoring how Cassie practically clung to him out of fear. She moved on to clutch Ron's robes.
"Can't go in there," said Ron gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."
"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look." she said, grabbing Cassie's hand from Ron's robes and dragging her over.
No matter how many times she'd accidentally went in there, forgetting it was the haunted bathroom, Cassie still thought it was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom she'd ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.
Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall with Cassie still in tow. When she reached it she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"
Harry, Merlin and Ron went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.
"This is a girls bathroom," she said, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously. " They're not girls."
"No," Hermione agreed. "I just wanted to show them how er - nice it is in here." She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.
"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed at Hermione.
"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "We wanted to ask-"
"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead-"
"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," Cassie said. "Harry only-"
"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"
"We wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately," said Merlin quickly. "Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."
"Did you see anyone near here that night?" Harry added.
"I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle dramatically. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm - that I'm-"
"Already dead," said Ron helpfully.
Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.
Ugh! Gross." Cassie said from beside Hermione. "I'm covered in toilet water."
Harry, Merlin and Ron stood with their mouths open, Merlin's hanging open in amusement, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle... Come on, let's go."
Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump. "RON!" Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face. "That's a girls bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you -?"
"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know-"
Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of Mrs. Weasley. "Get - away - from - there -" Percy said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner-"
"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"
"That's what I told Ginny," said Percy fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her , all the first years are thoroughly over excited by this business-"
"You don't care about Ginny," said Ron, whose ears were now reddening. " You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy-"
"Three points from Gryffindor! And two from Hufflepuff!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work , or I'll write to Mum!"
And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.
"Come on. Let's get to dinner." Merlin said, dragging them away from the corridor and towards the Great Hall. They took seats at the end of the table, making sure there weren't many people around to eavesdrop and discussed what they found even further. However, that topic was finished rather quickly as they began to eat.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. Ron was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his homework, Ron slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. To Harry's surprise, Hermione followed suit. Cassie and Merlin, who had gone up with them after dinner, looked up in surprise at the loud noise and Cassie gave a slight jump.
"Sorry. Easily startled." she said, blushing a bit when the three Gryffindors looked at her funny.
"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"
"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"
He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.
"If you're talking about Malfoy-"
"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him - You'll be next, Mudbloods!'- come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him-"
"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.
"Look at his family," said Harry, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."
"It's not Malfoy." Cassie said
"Why not?"
"His family's definitely evil, and completely pompous, but he's not the heir."
"You haven't given us a reason." Hermione pointed out.
"I don't have one. It's just a feeling. He's not the heir." she said, shrugging.
"So I suppose you think I am, just like the rest of the school is bound to be thinking." Harry whispered hotly to her.
"No, you're definitely not the heir. The Potters are descendants of Peverell and Stinchcomb, not Slytherin." Cassie said, looking down at her work, not seeing their open-mouthed expressions.
"How do you know that?"
"Genealogy. I'm a pure-blood and my grandfather forced me to learn all the pure-blood families, even the ones excluded from the sacred twenty-eight, to 'preserve the purity of your blood.' Up until you, Harry, the Potters were all pureblood, even if they weren't on the list." Cassie said, not looking up from her work.
"I didn't know you were a pure blood." Ron said thoughtfully.
"Yup, purest blood, trace the family back to the twelfth century." Cassie said dully.
"Maybe it's you." Merlin teased her.
"Sorry to break it to you, Merls, but French blood, not English. Can't be the Heir." Cassie said, looking at him sideways.
"I still think it's Malfoy." Ron said, "They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son ..."
"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible..."
"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly.
"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect-"
"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.
"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."
"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.
"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."
"What's that?" said Ron and Harry together.
"You know. It's a wonder you two pass Potions if you don't even hear what Professor Snape says." Cassie said, catching onto Hermione's thoughts.
"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago-" Hermione said at the same time.
"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" muttered Ron to Cassie.
"It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into five of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him."
"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," said Ron, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like five of the Slytherins forever?"
"It wears off after an hour. You need to keep taking it on the hour to maintain the effects." Cassie answered impatiently, waving for Hermione to continue, her work lay forgotten.
"Polyjuice Potion is incredibly difficult to make, though. It's a sixth year potion. We wouldn't even have access to the book with the recipe!" Merlin hissed.
"Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library." There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.
"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ron, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."
"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance…"
"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ron. "They'd have to be really thick…"
"One teacher might." Cassie said with a machiavellian look on her face.
"Oh, that look means trouble." Merlin said, dropping his head to the table with a thud.
