Chapter 8

Harry's mind was going a billion miles a second, thinking of all the different possibilities of what the mysterious voice could be.

"Think any harder, Harry, and you're going to have smoke coming out of your ears," said Clint.

"As much as I hate to agree with Bird-Brain," "Hey!" "We need more variables and evidence before we're going to be able to break this mystery wide open." Toni said.

"Okay," said Harry. He relaxed his poster, and wasn't going into overdrive into the mystery, but it was playing in the back of his mind, like a puzzle that was missing whole chunks of it.

Chapter eight: The Deathday Party

"We went to Nick's DeathDay party. Once." Sirius said, beginning on a happy note, and ending on a dismal one.

"'Went to'? Don't you mean, 'Crashed'?" Remus pointed out.

"No, because I remember that we were invited to it." said Sirius.

"Didn't we only go to it, because McGonagall was hot on our tails and we needed an out, an alibi?" James queried.

"That is-" Sirius said, then noticed that McGonagall was giving all of them her best 'Disapproving Professor' look. "That is beside the point."

"Oh?" said McGonagall, "And what is the point?"

"The point is, that um-"

"The point is that no living person should ever go to a DeathDay party. They are cold, and the food is completely inedible." Remus finished, seeing as both James and Sirius were too scared of the look that their former teacher was giving them.

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. And Harry was frustratingly nowhere with his search of Toni Stark. The answer is at the tips of his fingers he can just feel it. The movie nights were going well however. They had watched Toy Story 1-3

"There's a snake in ma boot!" Penelope Clearwater said, doing a decent American Western accent.

and they'll be watching The Incredibles later that week.

"Honey! Where's my Super Suit?!" Nick Fury called out, shocking everyone raised in the Muggle world. First with the fact that he watched the movie. Second, he apparently has a sense of humor. And third, and most importantly, is the fact that he sounds just like the voice actor.

"Um, Mr. Fury Sir?" Peter, oh that brave soul, nervously said. "Did you do the voice for the character?"

Fury looked at Peter and at all the curious faces staring up at him, before turning back to face the book, "Classified."

"Dude." was the general reaction around the room.

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire.

Ginny buried her face into her mother's side as the Hall started to giggle at the mental imagery.

As Harry squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, "...don't fulfill their requirements…half an inch, if that…"

"Hello, Nick," said Harry.

"You look troubled, young Potter," said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.

"So do you," said Harry.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance…. It's not as though I really wanted to join…. Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements' -"

In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five time in the neck with a blunt ax would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Forty-five times…?" Clint said, rubbing his hand against his neck.

"Oh - yes," said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree. "I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However -" Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously:

"'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"

Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away.

,,,

He looked down and found himself gazing into a pair of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mrs. Norris, the skeletal gray cat who was used by the caretaker, Argus Filch, as a sort of deputy in his endless battle against students.

"You'd better get out of here, Harry," said Nick Quickly. "Filch isn't in a good mood - he's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place -"

Harry groaned, "Here we go."

"Filth!" he shouted, his jowls aquiver, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that had dripped from Harry's Quidditch robes. "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter!"

"Uh oh." said Fred.

"Name… Harry Potter. Crime…"

"It was only a bit of mud!" said Harry.

"Yeah!" Ron exclaimed, "It's only mud!"

"It's only a bit of mud to you, boy, but to me it's an extra hour scrubbing!" shouted Filch, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose. "Crime… befouling the castle…suggested sentence…"

Dapping at his streaming nose, Filch squinted unpleasantly at Harry, who waited with bated breath for his sentence for fall.

But as Filch lowered his quill, there was a great BANG! On the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle.

"PEEVES!" Filch roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of roge. "I'll have you this time, I'll have you!"

"Never thought I'd be saying this," Harry said, "but, THANK YOU PEEVES."

Thinking that he should probably wait for Filch to come back,

"Harry, what are you doing?" James said.

"Run!" said Sirius, completely flabbergasted at Harry.

"I'm being responsible."

Harry sank into a moth-eaten chair next to the desk. There was only one thing on it apart from his half-complete form: a large, glossy, purple envelope with silver lettering on the front. With a quick glance at the door to check that Filch wasn't on his way back, Harry picked up the envelope and read:

KWIKSPELL

A Correspondence Course in Beginners' Magic

Intrigued, Harry Flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. More curly silver writing on the front page said:

Feel out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Ever been taunted for your woeful wandwork?

There is an answer!

Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of witches and wizards have benefited from the Kwikspell method!

Madam Z. Nettle of Topsham writes:

"I had no memory for incantations and my potions were a family joke! Now, after a Kwikspell course, I am the center of attention at parties and friends beg for the recipe of my Scintillation Solution!"

Warlock D. J. Prod of Didsbury says:

"My wife used to sneer at my feeble charms, but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course and I succeeded in turning her into a yak! Thank you, Kwikspell!"

"You call going through other people's mail 'Responsible'?" Lily asked, one brow raised.

"...Noooo…" Harry said slowly, never lifting his eyes from the table.

"So he's a Squib?" Ron said, his mouth ajar.

"This makes so much more sense," said George.

"No wonder he hates the students." Fred said.

Filch's pasty face went brick red. Harry braced himself for a tidal wave of fury hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope, and threw it into a drawer.

"Have you - did you read - ?"he sputtered.

"No," Harry lied quickly.

Filch's knobbly hands were twisting together.

"If I thought you'd read my private - not that it's mine - for a friend - be that as it may - however -"

Harry was staring at him, alarmed; Filch had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one of his pouchy cheeks, and the tartan scart didn't help.

"Very well - go - and don't breathe a word - not that - However, If you didn't read - go now, I have to write up Peeves' report - go -"

The entire student body looked at Harry in awe. As of that moment in the book, Harry is the first person to ever walk away from Filch's office, without a detention. Harry himself was just thankful. Who knows what Filch had planned for him.

"I persuaded Peeves to crash it right over Filch's office," said Nick eagerly. "Thought it might distract him -"

"Was that you?" said Harry gratefully. "Yeah, it worked, I didn't even get detention. Thanks, Nick!"

"Yes, thank you Nick!" Harry called, a big smile on his face.

"You are most welcome, Harry." Nick said, while giving him a dip of his head, without it falling to the wayside.

"What is it?" said Harry.

"Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified.

"Oh," said Harry, not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this. "Right."

"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. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would be most welcome, too, of course - but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?" He watched Harry on tenterhooks.

"No," said Harry quickly, "I'll come -"

"My dear boy! Harry Potter, at my deathday party! And" - he hesitated, looking excited - "do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me?"

"Of - of course," said Harry.

"A DeathDay Party? That sounds fascinating." Hermione said, and then got lost in thought.

Ron gave Harry a deadpanned look from across the Hall.

"I don't want to be rude." Harry shrugged.

Nearly Headless Nick beamed at him.

Before they parted ways, Harry spoke up, "Oh, Nick. Really quick. Since at the very least I'm going to be there, and I'm going to be missing the feast, could you make sure to have food that I, and my friends should they come, could eat and enjoy?"

"Oh!" said Nick, looking surprised that he hadn't thought of that. "I completely forgot about that. Don't worry, I'll make sure that the kitchen staff have food set out for you and your friends."

"Thanks Nick." With that, they went their separate ways.

"Well, at least there'll be something to eat." Ron muttered to himself.

Harry was half way to Gryffindor Tower, when his path was blocked by Malfoy and his bookends.

"I heard Weasley got cursed with his own wand. Wish I could have seen it." Malfoy said. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled, almost as if it was planned.

"Move out of the way, Malfoy." Harry said, suddenly tired from his long day.

"Come on, Potter." Malfoy laughed. "Could you describe it to me? Maybe you could draw me a picture?"

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, his ears already turning red.

"Hey Malfoy," Harry said, thinking, well… Okay he wasn't really thinking. He was just reacting. He was tired, hungry, and dirty. And Malfoy here just wouldn't leave him alone. The only thing he was thinking about other than food, and a shower, was what he said about Ron. He thought about Ron's failed attempt to curse Malfoy here.

Sliding past him, Harry whispered so that Malfoy was the only one to hear, "I hope both sides of your pillows are warm."

"What?" Malfoy said, confused. "What did you just say? What do you mean by that?"

But Harry didn't stop. He quickly made his way up to his dormitory.

Later that night, Malfoy laid in bed. He couldn't stop thinking about what Potter said to him.

"What is a 'Crayon'?" Malfoy thought to himself, as he flipped over his pillow.

Only to feel that that side is warm too. That's when he remembered what Potter said.

"Oh, Potter's going to pay for this." Malfoy muttered to himself.

"Really?!" Malfoy said. "You curse me with warm pillows? Your pettiness has gone too far, Potter!"

"Wrong!" Harry said, standing up from his chair, and pointing at Malfoy. "It can go a lot further!"

Bucky leaned over and whispered in Steve's ear, "Remind you of anyone? He gets that from you."

"Shut up Buck."

"A deathday party?" said Hermione keenly when Harry had changed at last and joined her and Ron in the common room. "I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those - It'll be fascinating!"

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?" said Ron, who was halfway through his potions homework and grumpy. "Sounds dead depressing to me…."

Ron rubbed his eyes and squinted at his Potions homework, staring at it for a minute, before grumbling under his breath and reaching for his wand to erase his mistake. Harry had noticed Ron doing this quite the past couple of months and last year as well.

Ron looked down at the table, his ears and face turning a shade darker than it already was, embarrassed that anyone noticed.

"Ron, are you okay?" Harry said.

"Yeah. Fine." Ron said, continuing on with his homework, staring at what he was writing intently.

Hermione had taken notice as well. "Are you sure? Because you're staring at your homework like it just kicked your puppy."

Ron tried to continue on with his homework, but after a couple minutes, he sighed in defeat. Throwing the pen that Harry had given him at the start of the year on the table, and putting his face in his hands, "No. I'm not fine."

"What's wrong? Maybe we could help." Hermione said, comfortingly.

"There's nothing that you can do. This has been going on my entire life, I've been to see healers for this, and they all say the same thing. 'There's nothing physically or magically wrong with you.' And because of this," Ron angrily waved at the words on his homework, and then at his head. "I've been labeled as stupid, and crazy, and so many other things by people when they find out about it. My own family says them too. So no, Hermione. There's nothing that you can do."

The teachers and Weasleys found themselves under the intense heat of the rest of the Hall trying to glare holes into their heads.

They were all silent for a minute as Ron's angry rant came to an end.

"Ron, why don't you tell us what it is," Harry said. Ron went to interrupt, but Harry held up a finger silently telling him to wait. "As you know, Hermione and I were raised in the Mugge world. So we may have a new and different perspective than what the magicals have. We could at least help find an answer."

Ron sighed, and slowly he said, "The words. Ever since I was a little kid, whenever I tried to read, the letter would seem to swim off and around the page, mixing everything up. It took me at least twice as long to learn how to read. It makes it next to impossible to read and write."

"Ron," Hermione said slowly after Ron finished talking. "Are you dyslexic?"

"Bless you." Ron said, looking at Hermione.

Hermione, while usually she would have given him a deadpanned look and then a lecture on what dyslexia is. Instead, she responded to Ron with compassion, what with everything that they have read so far.

Ron looked at her strangely. "Gasutight."

Half of the Hall giggled, but the other half, the half that had never even heard of dyslexia, listened intently.

Hermione deadpanned at him, "No, that wasn't a sneeze. It's a word."

She then took the time to explain the basics of dyslexia. "If you want, I can send a letter to my parents and ask them to send me all of the books that they have on it, and get their opinion."

"We could even start researching ways on how to get words and letters to stay still. Even if we have to create our own spell." Harry said, his words losing volume as his mind began to go a million miles an hour.

"So, what is Dyslexia, exactly?" Tracy Davis asked.

"Dyslexia is a general term for disorders that involve difficulty in learning to read or interpret words, letters, and other symbols, but that do not affect general intelligence." Hermione said, sounding like usual, like she had swallowed the dictionary whole.

"So," Ron said, "You mean, I'm not stupid?"

"Exactly. It just means that you learn differently than other people."

"Dyslexia is actually quite common. About one in five people, or 20 percent, of people worldwide have Dyslexia." explained Dr. Strange. "I can give you a list of books that you could use as a reference."

"Thank you." said Mr. Weasley.

"Potter!" Malfoy came storming up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they were leaving the Great Hall.

"What now, Malfoy?" Harry sighed.

"What did you do?" Malfoy said.

"What are you on about Malfoy?" said Ron.

"You cursed me with warm pillows!" Malfoy said.

"Is there even a spell for that?" Hermione said, as she got lost in thought.

"When did Harry do this, 'allegedly'?" Ron asked. You could hear the finger quotations, even though he didn't show it.

"Yesterday!"

"Did anyone witness this 'curesing' taking place?" Hermione asked.

"Crabbe and Goyle were there." Malfoy said, almost desperately.

"And did they see or hear anything?" asked Ron.

Malfoy glared at them, as he knew that they hadn't.

"My father will hear about this!" Malfoy threatened. He then spun on his heel and stormed into the Great Hall in search of his breakfast.

"Hey Malfoy!" Harry called before he could go too far. "Here's another curse for you! May all your bacon burn."

"No!" Cried Clint, "Not the bacon!"

The Muggle raised students laughed, and when it died down, at the end of the Gryffindor table a group of fourth year muggle-borns sat from all of the houses.

One Hufflepuff girl turned to her friend and said, "Are you a howl?"

Her friend, who just so happened to be a redhead, said, "No, I'm an extremely powerful fire demon, named CALCIFER!"

This caused the laughter to resume.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione then turned and walked away.

"You didn't actually curse him with warm pillows did you?" Hermione said.

"No." Harry said. But Hermione and Ron thought that he answered a little too fast.

Malfoy sat down and began plating up his breakfast. Taking a bite out of his bacon, he chewed it once, twice, before spitting it out. Looking at the bacon he had spit out, it was burnt to a crisp, but the bacon in his hand was perfect.

"Potter." Malfoy growled. Squeezing the strip of bacon in his fist.

As Halloween drew nearer, Harry split his attention between school, helping Ron, and finding Toni, and his other side project. Malfoy had tried to get Harry in trouble for cursing him, but when he went to the teachers and Madam Pomfrey, they could find no evidence that he had been cursed. They had questioned Harry and his friends, tested Harry's wand, but the fact remained, Harry didn't have his wand out when the Malfoy supposedly cursed. Malfoy's dad had even brought in a curse breaker. And even still, no curse. Malfoy was pissed, judging by the glares that he was constantly sending Harry.

"What kind of magic did you use?" Hermione asked.

"I would tell you. Really I would, but this is taking place in the future, so I don't know." Harry shrugged.

From his seat, Malfoy glared at Harry.

Then, in the early hours of Halloween morning, Harry was about to turn off the hologram and let his program continue looking for Toni while he went looking for his breakfast. When the computer started beeping.

Twisting back around to face the hologram, he stared for a moment. Right there in the middle of the projection was a blinking red dot. Harry dived back towards his laptop, and started tapping away.

After confirming that that was where Toni Stark is, he switched to another screen. He was monitoring the United States progress in locating Toni. Seeing that they still had no idea where she was. They would have given up if it wasn't for Harry poking and prodding, and for a certain Colonel James Rhodes demanding that they keep looking.

Toni smiled at the mention of her best friend, knowing that he was out there looking for her and that he never gave up, it brought a smile to her face. She doesn't have many people in her life that she can count on.

What happened next, was kind of. Sort of. Maybe? Probably…. Okay technically, illegal.

As everyone wondered what Harry was getting himself into, Nat said, "It's okay. Depending on what it is, the punishment will be pretty light."

Harry hacked into the Pentagon.

"Okay, that," Clint said, pointing at the book floating in the middle of the Hall. "Is very illegal!"

Toni, along with the rest of the Hall, slowly turned to look at Harry. "Harry you-"

"Before you give me a punishment, just remember, that this happens in the future, and it hasn't happened yet, so you can't punish me for it!" Harry said, in a panic.

"Harry, Harry!" Steve said. "It's okay. You aren't going to be punished for something that you haven't done. Okay?"

"Okay." Harry took a couple deep breaths, to calm down.

"Why do I get the feeling that Harry's going to be saying that a lot through the rest of the books?" Lily whispered to her husband.

"Because he probably is." James said.

Going as slowly and as quietly as he dared, Harry made his way through the Pentagon's servers, making sure to not leave so that they wouldn't know he was there. Like footprints in the sand.

Getting to the right files and programs that are incharge of the search for Toni, Harry rewrote a few bits of code so that it would look like they found Toni all on their own. Then he made his way out just as quietly as he did getting in. Double checking that there was no evidence that he was ever there.

On his way out of their servers, he slipped his own little program in. One to keep an eye on Toni Stark from within the Pentagon, and let him know when she is in mortal danger. Because he figured that if the two of them are anything alike, then Toni Stark was going to be a danger magnet just as much as Harry is.

And he wants to help, be useful.

Toni was still looking at Harry. She had never taken her eyes off of him when the book said that Harry had found her.

"Toni?" Steve said, trying to see if she was okay.

Toni snapped back to herself. She reached over and scooped Harry up in her arms, and pulled him onto her lap. Wrapping Harry up in a big hug. Seeing as they are both touch starved, and crave positive attention, they could both definitely use a cuddle.

Toni took a moment to catalog just how light Harry is, before filing it away, and burying her face in Harry's hair.

"My little angel." Harry could just make out the words that Toni was muttering into his tresses. "Thank you, so much."

He then settled down into the cuddle, enjoying every last bit that he could get.

"A promise is a promise," Hermione reminded Harry bossily. "You said you'd go to the deathday party."

So at seven o'clock, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons.

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

"Oh, that 'music'." James shuddered.

Sirius and Remus both rubbed their ears as they remembered when they were at Nick's DeathDay party sixteen years ago.

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

"Oh, no," said Hermione, stopping abruptly. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle -"

"Who?" said Ron as they backtracked quickly.

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," said Hermione.

"She haunts a toilet?"

"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!"

"Is that all you think about?" said Hermione, frowning.

"Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," said Peeves, his eyes dancing. "Rude you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and bellowed, "OI! MYRTLE!"

"Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset," Hermione whispered frantically. "I didn't mean it, I don't mind her - er, hello, Myrtle."

"Miss Granger was just talking about you -" said Peeves slyly in Myrtle's ear.

"Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight," said Hermione, glaring at Peeves.

Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously.

"You're making fun of me," she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.

"Don't lie to me," Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeve chuckled happily over her shoulder. "D'you think I don't know what people call 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, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly; Harry started to clap, too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nick's face.

"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 the meaningful look from Nick, "Nick's very - frightening and - er -"

"Ha!" yelled Sir Patrick's head. "Bet he asked you to say that!"

"This Sir Patrick sure sounds like a jerk, brother." commented Shuri.

"As well as many other things that Mother would never allow you to say." T'Challa said.

"That Mother would never allow me to say, or you would never allow me to say?" Shuri asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I believe the book is starting again," said T'Challa.

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…"

Harry was very cold by now, and while the food that Nick had the kitchen staff set out for them was excellent, Harry, Ron, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to warm up by the fire in the common room, before going to bed.

"At least you three got food when you went to Nick's DeathDay party. When we went, all the food was rotten, and moldy, and just plain nasty." James shuddered as he remembered that night.

"Try having a sensitive nose." Remus said.

"No thank you." James shook his head, "Changing Harry's diaper with the nose I've got was bad enough. I don't want to have a sensitive sense of smell."

"What do you mean, 'changing Harry's diaper'? You just stood there and watched while I changed Harry's every single one of those diapers." Lily rounded on her husband.

"Yes, and being as near as I was was bad enough. Plus it was really gross." James said, matter of factly.

"You're an Auror. You look at dead mutilated bodies all day. And when we were in school, you and your friends spent two years trying to find the legendary 'Brown Noise'. And you think that changing Harry's dirty diaper is gross? Really? Mhm."

"...Yeeeeeeesssssss."

"I - I can't even look at you right now." Lily turned away from James, completely irritated with him right now.

"... rip… tear… kill…"

"Great it's back." a Hufflepuff said.

"Can't we have just one normal year for once?" Seamus asked.

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard in Lockhart's office.

He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Harry, what're you - ?"

"It's that voice again - shut up a minute -"

" … soo hungry … for so long … "

"Listen!" said Harry urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching him.

"... kill … time to kill … "

Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: "... I smell blood…. I SMELL BLOOD!"

"Hearing voices that no one else can hear. Never a good sign." Clint shook his head.

Nat elbowed him in the ribs.

Something was shining one 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.

Hagrid looked like a ghost, with how much he paled.

"Not again." He muttered to himself.

"What's that thing - hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.

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.

"Trust me," said Ron. "We don't want to be found here."

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

"Mr. Malfoy, I told you that that is not appropriate behavior." McGonagall scolded, however on the inside, she was just as worried as the other teachers.