Part two done and dusted. Not that long, but eh.
Chapter Two: Gentle Streams
A hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him to the side. Theodore stumbled into the tight alcove, bracing himself as his arm flung out against the cold, tiled wall.
Lavender stood opposite him, her eyes narrowed.
He shouldn't have been too surprised to see her, since she was the only person who would do something like that. That being something idiotic. These Gryffindors had issues, always sneaking about and being in places they shouldn't be.
Professor Snape was still in the classroom, and it was only a matter of time before he'd leave and then see them. He had absolutely no intention of being caught in a small, dingy alcove by his head of house.
He was a model Slytherin – at least, that's what everyone thought – and it would be a shame if he tarnished his reputation so early on.
"What are you doing?"
Lavender rolled her eyes, but let go of his wrist.
"I need to tell you something," she said in a hushed tone.
"I'm sure it can wait," he said. He moved towards the opening.
"It's urgent."
It was a universally known fact that Gryffindors were overly dramatic. It was always the end of the world when it came to those lot.
He took a step into the corridor when,
"Hermione asked Professor Binns about the Chamber of Secrets."
His leg went back into the alcove. He moved further back, so the Gryffindor was hidden away.
Maybe they weren't always dramatic?
"And what did Binns say?"
Lavender blinked. "That Salazar Slytherin built it to hide a monster which could only be released by one of his heirs. And then he said it was just a story." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "You don't think it could be..." she leant forward slightly, "...a student."
"I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.
According to his father, the chamber could only be opened using dark magic. As far as students were concerned, there was absolutely no way any of them had the skill to perform such a feat.
"It could be a teacher though," he said slowly.
"What?"
Footsteps echoed in the dungeons, the sound getting louder and louder. Three Fifth Years scurried down the corridor, heading towards them.
He grabbed Lavender's arm and shoved her to the side, behind the wall.
"Ouch. Wha-"
"Shut up," he whispered.
The three Slytherins stopped by the alcove. A rather tall blonde – Dolohov – pulled a small bottle out of her pocket. She glanced around before slipping it to the other girl and whispered to the boy.
The boy took the bottle off the other girl and took a sip. Under the torch, it became clear that the bottle wasn't in fact a bottle. Rather, it was a flask.
Theodore doubted it was filled with Butterbeer.
"What's happening?" Said Lavender.
He glared at Lavender, but the girl didn't seem particularly fazed. In fact, she had the nerve to push him out of the way.
Was she an idiot?
"They're having Firewhiskey?"
"Be quiet," he hissed, "you'll get caught."
"I don't think I'm the one who needs to be worried about getting caught."
Honestly, she wasn't only going to drag her own house through the mud, apparently, she wanted to take the Slytherins along for the ride. It would be mortifying if anyone found out he was friends with Gryffindor.
Draco and Blaise would kill him. Or threaten to anyway. And then the whole of Slytherin would know, and he'd be a laughing stock for the rest of his time at Hogwarts.
Lavender's eyes shone dangerously, and well, her smile wasn't one to be trusted.
"What are you-"
He couldn't look. Not as she strode out into the corridor, with more determination than he could ever dream of mustering.
Theodore reached for his wand, ready to hex the Gryffindor. A good jelly legs curse, or a petrifying spell would do the job.
Except, his hands were met with nothingness. He'd left his wand in the potions classroom.
"Can I try some?" asked his idiotic friend.
He dared not open his eyes. Hearing the girl make a fool of herself was bad enough.
It would only be a matter of time before Dolohov's voice rang out.
One beat. Two beats. Three beats.
Silence.
Theodore opened his eyes a fraction, only to see the Gryffindor standing in an empty corridor. No Fifth Years or Firewhiskey in sight.
And then Lavender burst out laughing.
"They left ages ago," Lavender grinned. "Even I'm not dumb enough to walk in front of a bunch of half-brained Slytherins. "You should've seen your face," she said between bouts of laughter, "It was like the time Ron ate a whole lemon in the common room."
Theodore wasn't anything like Weasley. He told the girl as much, who simply shrugged and muttered something under her breath, far too quiet for him to hear.
Though he did catch the word "sidekicks" in there somewhere.
"I can't believe you decided to watch the quidditch instead," grumbled Lavender.
"I told you beforehand," he said weakly.
"But still," she glared at him, "all for bloody Malfoy."
Theodore had promised Draco that he'd come and watch his first game for Slytherin. He'd asked nicely, and Theodore wasn't exactly going to say no to his friend. He wasn't that stubborn.
"But I'm here now?"
Sat on the wet grass entertaining his friend, or at the very least, attempting to. Three games of chess had done nothing to mellow her irritation. And it was bloody cold.
Lavender rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you're gutted to be missing the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff game."
Fair point.
"At least you guys won?"
Draco had been absolutely distraught for the past two weeks, and well, it was getting rather irritating. The very idea of sleeping had been long forgotten since Draco had decided the dormitory was now a place to rant about cheating Gryffindors and referees.
So naturally Theodore and the rest of his dorm mates had become make-shift therapists and reassured Draco. Well, it was only Theodore who did the reassuring, Blaise spent more time asking the blond whether Flint had actually bewitched the bludger to follow Potter.
"You cheating gits deserved to lose," said Lavender.
"Don't you start now," he said, wincing slightly.
"I'll do whatever the hell I want."
Theodore wouldn't expect anything else from the Gryffindor.
"Go on then," he said, tapping a broken knight against his knee. The other half had somehow gotten lost in their previous game of chess, which was the only reason they'd moved on to Exploding Snap. "It's not like Draco hasn't been crying about the game for the past two weeks."
"Your dear Draco can shove his-" she broke off, and slapped a card down on the pile with way more force than necessary.
And yeah, a part of him was glad she didn't complete that sentence. There may even have been a relieved sigh.
Obviously, that was then followed by a sharp glare from the direction of the Gryffindor.
"You're such an arse."
"I haven't even said anything," he said, smothering a grin. "You're the one who keeps bullying me and my friends."
"I'm not bullying anyone," she said, "You're the one who's being stupid."
"I'm sorry for being stupid?" He placed a bowtruckle card on the pile.
"As if I care," she sneered, placing another card, "whilst you're at it maybe you should try out-"
Theodore slapped his wand on the blue card. "Snap."
The pile of cards in Lavender's hands exploded into thin strips of confetti. The paper rained down on her, flecks of blue and red landing on her robes, and adorning her hair, like she was a hybrid Gryffindor-Ravenclaw mascot, or something.
"Good game?"
Lavender didn't even spare him a glance as she replied, her voice seething. "Don't even."
The heir of Slytherin certainly complicated matters, especially when it came to things like playing chess or Exploding Snap by the Great Lake. Theodore personally thought that banning students from going outside without adult supervision was a bit much. The danger was much, much bigger inside the castle, after all, that's where all the incidents had taken place.
And so thanks to these new rules, Theodore found himself in the library, double (and triple) checking his Charms homework. It was something about the invention of the memory charm, and how Radford became the first Obliviator in the Ministry.
Of course, the students hadn't yet started learning the charm. That would only happen once Flitwick marked their homework, to make sure they could be trusted.
"Er Lavender," he said, prodding the girl with the end of his quill, "you've missed the last 's' in Hogwarts Express."
"Thanks," she muttered before squeezing the letter in.
It was more a blob than an 's', but then again, most of her parchment was blotted with round ink blobs, the liquid bleeding into the desk.
"I think you might be dyslexic?" he said, the words more a question than a statement.
Lavender pointed her quill at Theodore, spattering black ink onto his robes. Some of the ink stained the library's carpet, dotting the rough green, like stars made of thick tar.
"Are you insulting me?" The girl narrowed her eyes.
Theodore shook his head.
Now, Theodore wasn't a perfectionist, but, when terms like forgetfullnes and bigest consealment operation, practically glared at him, well he wasn't going to ignore it. Especially since it was an exceedingly regular occurrence.
And the fact that Theodore was a good friend obviously, who cared very much about his friends. Honestly, people like Blaise and Draco were rather ungrateful, and well Lavender was well... Lavender.
"The hell's a dyslexic?"
"Erm it's, like, when you struggle to spell words and stuff."
Like he said, he wasn't really a perfectionist, he just sort of knew the bare minimum and rolled with it. Of course, the wide breadth of knowledge was thanks to his mother's interests in all things including muggle things. His lack of depth was all thanks to his father, who decided to throw all things non-magical into the attic after his mum's funeral.
"Right," she said, "that can't be real."
"It is," he nodded. "You can get these charmed lenses which help you read better."
They'd been a recent discovery, based on some muggle research. Well, recent as in, they'd only been discovered about fifteen years ago. 'Magical Things Inspired by Muggles' perhaps wasn't the most creatively titled book, but it certainly contained some interesting things.
Like, the inkless quill had been made after the Minister of Magic (not Fudge, it was about a hundred years before him) had seen the Prime Minister using a lead instrument called a 'pencil' in their annual meeting.
"I don't struggle to read."
"Which must be exactly why you always ask me to read out recipes for potions after Snape sets us homework."
A faint hint of colour dusted Lavender's cheeks. "It's because I can't be bothered reading. It's boring."
"Right." Theodore raised a brow.
Lavender stared blankly at the parchment in front of her, rolling a quill between her fingers.
"It's not like there's anything wrong with it," he said shrugging slightly.
"How do you even know this stuff?" she asked refusing to meet his eyes.
"Mum had some books on muggles and stuff."
She flung her stuff into her schoolbag, crinkling her homework in the process.
"Are you calling me a squib?" The chair made a grating noise against the floor as she stood up.
Theodore shook his head quickly, "Of course not. It's just that, off the record-" his voice dropped to a whisper, "-sometimes, muggles know more than us."
Lavender's mouth twitched slightly before she bit her bottom lip. Her brown eyes, however, held a feather of amusement.
"I'd appreciate it though, if the whole school didn't find out about the weird Slytherin Second Year who thinks muggles might be better than us."
"I'll be waiting at the school entrance with a sign, so everyone coming back from the Ravenclaw-Slytherin game knows," she said, attempting a glare.
A rather poor attempt, if you were to ask him. Although a small, tiny, miniscule part of him was terrified that she'd do exactly that.
A scorned Gryffindor had no limits.
"You won't actually do that, will you?"
She beamed at him.
"And miss the chance to see the whole of Slytherin stropping about?"
Crap.
Naturally, Theodore followed the girl back to the entrance of Gryffindor Tower, just in case. Though if she really wanted to drag him through the fire, well, Gryffindor's weren't exactly known for being quiet.
"Is everything okay?"
The question was a massive understatement, but he didn't know what else to say.
She gave him a sombre look but nodded nonetheless.
"Professor McGonagall said she's going to be fine," Lavender said quietly.
"Are you okay?"
If Granger could get attacked, then it could hurt anyone. Whatever this bloody monster was. And though it hadn't hurt any purebloods yet, it wouldn't be long before it went after muggleborn sympathisers.
A part of him had expected Draco to be overcome with joy at the news about Granger, but even he seemed to realise the gravity of the situation. Or maybe he was just upset about quidditch.
Someone from his house was responsible for all of this. And yet, it was impossible a student was the perpetrator. Not impossible, but highly unlikely, given that no one had taken credit for the attack.
His father had sent many a letter, but not a single clue as to who the heir of Slytherin could be. It had been implied that perhaps an older student was responsible, maybe a Sixth or Seventh Year.
Lavender leant back against the wall, her fingers trailing the line of engraved crests, pausing as it reached the badger.
"I'm fine, Theodore. It's just that-" She broke off.
"What is it?"
Lavender shook her head. "They'll find the monster, won't they?"
"We've got the most powerful wizard as our headmaster, and the minister himself looking for the monster, I think we'll be fine."
If they had found the monster fifty years ago, surely they'd be able to find it again. And this time destroy it for good, despite how much it'd annoy some of his housemates. Some of the Seventh Years, especially.
"It's scary."
Lavender breathed heavily against the stone, her eyes squeezed shut.
"I know," he murmured.
"Hogwarts is supposed to be safe," she said, "that's what everyone keeps on saying, but I'm not even sure if it's true anymore." She paused for a moment, "You know, Hermione used to spend all night reading Hogwarts: A History. It was annoying, but weirdly reassuring in a way."
"I'm sorry about Granger," he said quietly.
"We're not even friends," continued Lavender, as though she hadn't heard him. "But the dorm feels so empty without her."
"I've heard Professor Sprout's made loads of progress on the mandrakes," he said, "It's going to be ok-
"I might throw a gobstone at you if you say 'okay'," she said tiredly.
Luckily, he didn't get the chance to say anything, because just then a shrill, piercing noise rang through the corridor. The bell signalled their new six o'clock curfew.
It had been established exactly two days ago. The day when all quidditch had been cancelled with immediate effect, the day a prefect had been attacked, and the day someone from their very own year had been petrified.
The Gryffindor jerked away from the wall and stumbled forward slightly. A fresh black scuff marked the pale grey floor.
"You should start tying your shoelaces," he said dryly.
She rolled her eyes half-heartedly, "I'll see you in Potions tomorrow."
"Be careful," he kept his voice steady, measured. But his heart quickened, flooding his mind with terror.
What if he knew the heir? What if they closed Hogwarts down? What if Lavender got hurt?
"You too."
(Obviously, it was Saints Potter and Weasley who saved the day. Because of course, it could only be those idiots.)
Thanks for reading chapter two. Next chapter to arrive in a week, or maybe earlier