Ellinor Parkinson stomped through the mud, her elegant ankle boots coming out of its clammy grip perfectly clean and shining. Pansy had kept her lips pressed together tightly the entire journey, but now, walking up the path to the brightly illuminated castle, her fear got the better of her.

"Mum, are you sure this is going to -"

Her mothers turned around slowly, and before Pansy saw the blazing hatred of her weak offspring painted like make-up on her face, she knew she had made a mistake.

"Dare you doubt his genius?", her mother whispered. "Him, the wizard who has pushed the boundaries of magic further than any other?"

"No, but -"

"Well, you're not asked too much, don't you think? After what you've been doing all summer?", her mother said, and Pansy knew perfectly well what sermon was waiting for her. Her mother, for once, did not disappoint. "If you're not above - - messing with mudbloods, it is hardly too much to ask -"

"You guys did not exactly ask me, did you?", Pansy felt an unexpected rage swell inside her chest. "Ever since you know we've had -"

"I do not wish to hear about it", her mother hissed, "The crucial point is, I can expect you to perform adequate."

"Millicent and Theodore -"

"- are still behaving themselves properly", Ellinor cut across her, "As you should have. I am ashamed of you, and this is your one and only chance to restore our honor and, hopefully, the most of our reputation."

The hell they are, Pansy corrected silently, but kept the comment to herself. If she snitched on Millicent, her best friend would only be next in line for the stunt her mother had set her up to.

They hustled through the mud up until they reached the grey and cracked staircase. Without the dust, the damage from the recent Battle was only more prominent.

"If your father had properly recovered, I'd have him take our Unbreakable Vows that you follow through as you've been told", the older witch snapped at Pansy. Some rummaging in the wide, black robes later she shoved a tiny, silk shrouded package into her daughter's hand.

"Now repeat to me the crucial steps", Ellinor commanded.

"Room of Requirement first, dungeons second, wait for the appearance", Pansy repeated reluctantly. "Then the spellwork. Straight back to Room of Requirement again, use this -", she nodded toward the package, " - in front of the Room, then - basically the same procedure, except from the rear end."

"I don't wish to get any details", her mother said, "Have it your way. But it must happen tonight."

"Yeah, I've been let in on that part for quite a while now, haven't I?" Pansy tore the package from her mothers grip, uncertain if she would start to cry any moment or hit her. Hard. What kind of mother set her daughter up for such a kamikaze move?

"What if it doesn't work?", she blurted. "What if I can't -"

"Then you will have ended your unworthy existence in His service, and your family won't suffer from the abysmal shame you've brought over us", Ellinor put her down, not a trace or flinch in this expression of repulsion. "Now go, this won't work with a corridor full of nosy children who don't know what's good for them."

Pansy, too struck by her mother's clear-cut attitude, accepted defeat, stored the package safely into her pockets and pulled the heavy door open just wide enough to slip through.

Seventh floor was completely deserted, as predicted. I need to get out of this castle, Pansy forced herself to think as she crossed the corridor. The Room would not appear if she lied to herself, Greyback had instructed her, so her focus must be on the needs she truly felt. I need to hide this package my mother gave me. Her legs, apparently, had woken to a mind of their own: When she turned for the final crossing of the corridor, Pansy felt her knees grow softer and softer. I need to leave and come back without anyone noticing.

The third crossing had led her to face a blank stone wall. Moment of truth. She turned.

A tiny, slim door, held together by suspiciously uneven and loose screws, had appeared on the wall. A lump rose in Pansy's throat. Judging from the weight sitting in her stomach, a part of her must have hoped to fail at this part already. Sorry, Mum, couldn't get in. I'll try next month, I promise. Four weeks would have been enough to come clear about the whole enterprise, with Slughorn himself if she had to, and plenty of time to save her neck. But so far, no excuses on the horizon.

The door was much heavier than its size suggested. Perhaps it doesn't work anymore, this faint and treacherous voice whispered. Perhaps Draco destroyed it last summer. Pansy forced herself through five inches between the frame and the handle, only to see that last hope destroyed.

The Room was crammed as ever: Shelves and half-open cupboards full of stuff students were not supposed to have in their possession. Stacks of parchment from unfinished homework, failed essays and sloppy research towered above widgets and devices that had long stopped working or had never worked at all. A limp hat with tiny "W" on its brim sat on a frayed Nimbus 1990, quite opaque except for a patch, and Pansy suspected the sparkler at its feet had originally produced enough sparks to at least set the broom on fire, except that it coughed up only smoke that smelled like burnt hair. As much as she would have loved staying and watching the remains of more whiz-bangs, rather than proceed, she had to get on and find what she had come here for, and fast. If the fest ended before she had reached her destination, she would have missed her chance. Speaking of chances… she quickly checked the old-fashioned watch her mother should never see her carrying around. But then, perhaps she had long descended beneath her mother's rage about a „muggle toy", handy as it might be. Ten past eight. Time management would be crucial in their plan.

Pansy did not have to look for it for long: Its heavy, dark wood and pointed end at the front made it look even larger. Can't believe they did not think of disposing of it, Pansy thought. Must be the arrogance of winners. Then an ice cube slid through her throat into her stomach. As the Vanishing Cabinet was still here, there could be no excuses. Quarter past eight. Heart racing like she had just covered miles between the corridor and the Cabinet, Pansy turned around, heading to leave again, fist clenched tightly around the package from her mother. Its content pressed firmly against her palms, but she needed to pain to focus right now.

The corridor was still empty. Twenty past eight. Pansy rushed over the cold and careless stone, down the marble staircase, which bore shiny new pieces of marble in it. Obviously the castle had decided not to let a mere battle over the wizarding world's fate ruin its interior. Flesh memory guided her way further down to the dungeons, straight to Slytherin common room. The plan was simple as fuck. She only had to find it, speak the incantation, and -

What would it be like?, she wondered. People fantasized about something like this all the time, and she had stood in front of a muggle shop with cheap camcorders only too recently, but not come with the courage - the audacity -

Her legs had carried her to the blank, humid wall hiding the entrance to Slytherin common room. But that was not quite what she had been heading to. Pansy turned - bathrooms to the left, potions class to the right. Acting on a hunch, she headed right again. He would never have accepted the indignity of hanging next to a loo, might it be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets itself.

Her guts had not let her down.

From a fine ornamented silver frame, the pale and handsome face of the most famous Slytherin stared down at her.

"At last." His voice was quite soft and pleasant to hear, but Pansy felt her skin crawl between her shoulders. „I trust you have been taught the incantation?"

"Yes, Mr - my Lord -"

"Oh", his lips curled in what could have been a smile, if it had not shown beneath grey insidious eyes, „It's still Tom Riddle." The smile grew broader. „For now."

"Yes, Mr … Riddle."

„You will have to step up for the procedure", he said. There was no hint of demand in his voice, but every fiber of her body told Pansy to obey.

"Lumos", she whispered, as she closed the gap between herself and the portrait.