16 : mud everywhere!

Draco

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The freezing rain that seeped under his Quidditch robes was not the reason Draco was shivering. He landed piteously and made his way to the stands as slowly as possible. He could feel the disappointment and anger spinning in his head.

As everyone rushed to the precious Potter who had fainted after his fall, Draco found his parents waiting at the bottom of the Slytherin tower. From a distance, he could see his mother looking around, probably worried about how people would react to her son's terrible performance. Next to her stood Lucius, who looked about as angry as he had when Draco had burned the Manor lounge carpet with Blaise when they were seven.

"Do you know how much that broom costs, Draco?" he asked in his icy voice as Draco came up to his level.

"No, Father..."

Draco stared sheepishly at the ground.

"Two hundred Gallons, Draco." replied Lucius dryly. "I offered it to the entire Slytherin team. Did you do the math?"

Draco lowered his head further, he could feel the raindrops pounding on the back of his neck.

"Yes..."

"So do you understand my disappointment when I see... this?"

He pointed to the field with a wave of his hand. He was furious, you could clearly hear it in his voice, which trembled a little, and the fact that Narcissa wasn't stopping him. Draco nodded:

"Yes Father."

"Quidditch, it was supposed to be the thing you were best at. Given your performance today, am I to conclude that you are deplorable at everything you do?"

There was a silence before his father shouted:

"Answer me!"

"I... No, the rain... It's Potter..."

"Stop talking about that Potter! He was much better at this than you. He grew up in a Muggle family and he can catch a Golden Snitch, unlike you! What have you been using all those broomsticks for all this time? What were you doing at your friend Blaise's house all those afternoons?"

"I was training!" protested Draco.

"Clearly not. Can you really tell me that..."

"Lucius, stop it, people are watching." interjected Narcissa.

She gave a fake smile to some people walking by who were looking at them strangely, which calmed Lucius down.

"I'm not proud at all, Draco." said his father, straightening up slightly. "So either train twice as hard to reach some semblance of a level, or stop humiliating yourself like this."

Draco nodded several times. Then, to change the subject, he dared to ask:

"Did you receive my letter, Father?"

Lucius replied without looking him in the eye, busy checking that no one around them could really hear them:

"Yes, I received it. As I've explained to you several times, it's not exactly wise to speak ill of Potter these days."

"But the Chamber of Secrets? Does it really exist?"

Lucius waved his hand to stop him from speaking:

" Quiet, Draco! Not in front of the school! I'll answer you by owl. And don't show anyone what I write to you, is that clear?"

Draco nodded again. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Potter was being taken to the hospital wing, and his arm had a strange shape to it, as if it was hanging on a thread. He paid no attention to it, too busy being subjected to his father's wrath.

"We have to go." Lucius continued, picking up his cane again. "See you later, Draco."

And he walked away. His mother then moved closer to him and pulled the collar of her dress up properly. She was avoiding him with her eyes, too.

"That was still good, Draco..." she said softly. As always, she was always rounding up after Lucius. "You did some nice tricks. Potter just got a lucky shot. Maybe you'll win the next one, okay?"

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and said goodbye, before disappearing into the crowd. Draco suddenly felt exhausted, drained of all his energy. All he wanted to do was find his friends and go back to the Common Room to get a snack and forget about what had just happened. He turned around, but there was more to come: Marcus Flint stood in front of him, and his face was contorted with rage.

"Are you kidding, Draco? What was that?"

"I don't know." snarled Draco, who was sick of being yelled at. "The rain..."

"Rain?!" shouted Flint. "The rain? Are you really going to use the rain excuse now? During training, you could see the Golden Snitch from miles away! Don't talk to me about the rain, Malfoy!"

Draco felt his grip tighten on his broomstick as a new wave of anger began to rise within him. He answered nothing, waiting for Flint to stop yelling:

"No, it's Potter! It was Potter who broke your concentration! You were so focused on taking the piss out of him that you missed the Golden Snitch. It was right above your ear, I fucking saw it! How did you miss it? We could have won and taken the championship!"

Flint was so close to Draco that he could feel the spittle on his face. He glanced over the captain's shoulder and saw the entire Slytherin team giving him dirty looks.

Great.

"You better make it up to me at the next practice. Thursday, 8pm. Just because your father is rich and giving us presents doesn't mean you deserve to be here."

And off he went to yell at Adrian Pucey.

Draco did not stay, he hurried to look for his friends in the crowd that was returning to the Castle. He saw Blaise a little further on, his head sticking out at everyone, but he was already too far away. Draco swore through his teeth and headed for the shed to drop off his Nimbus 2001. He then walked up the path to the Castle alone and didn't even bother to cast a spell to stop the rain from falling on him. He was devastated.

He arrived at the dungeons and felt the disappointed looks of the Slytherins at his back. He ignored them and walked into the Common Room, which was packed, and went straight to his dormitory. His shoes were full of mud and his hair was soaked from the rain.

Pansy was sitting in the chair that Nott often occupied.

"Where are Blaise and Theo?" he asked curtly.

"In the Common Room."

Draco raised his eyebrows and said nothing. Pansy stared at him, waiting for a reaction. This annoyed him. He locked himself in the bathroom without saying a word and pulled off his green robe that was sticking to his body from the rain and mud and turned on the hot water.

He stayed in the shower for a long time, partly to wash himself, but also to get rid of the anger that had built up inside him.

When the water in the shower turned cold, he finally got out and walked back into the dormitory with a towel around his waist. Pansy was still there, she had nothing in her hands and was just looking at her nails while waiting for him. When she saw that his face was so blank, she sighed:

"Draco! It's okay, it's over, you can stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting, I'm just pissed."

"At who?"

"At myself." he replied coldly.

He opened his dresser drawers to pull out a pair of comfortable cotton trousers. Even after the shower, he felt like he still had mud on him, and he was even colder than when he'd come in. Pansy watched him choose his clothes with a look of deep boredom on her features:

"Did your father say something to you?"

"He yelled at me, more like. Did you know he was going to be in the public?"

"How should I know? I just saw him coming with your mum at the beginning of the game, that's all."

He went back into the bathroom to change but left the door slightly ajar to hear Pansy speak:

"Marcus Flint yelled at you too? That's not very fair, Adrian Pucey missed quite a few times too, he could have scored twice as many goals when he had the..."

"That's not the point, Pans'," Draco cut in. "I sucked."

She let out a sigh and watched him exit the bathroom.

"It's just a game, Draco. Who cares?"

This sentence irritated Draco even more. Pansy had never understood Quidditch. She had helped Draco and Blaise during the summer and watched hundreds of games, but she had never understood the importance of Quidditch to him. To her, it was just a sport.

He sighed and decided to go and see the only person in the world who understood what it was all about: Blaise Zabini.

He left the dormitory. The Common Room had emptied completely during Draco's shower, everyone had gone about their Saturday afternoon business. He recognized Blaise's face from behind, in his usual sofa. Theo was in the armchair next to him, his legs resting on the armrest, reading.

As Draco approached, Blaise gently closed his magazine and watched Draco sit in the armchair on the other side of the sofa. Then he said:

"Not great, eh?"

Contrary to what he might have thought, this sentence did not upset Draco. On the contrary, it was the first honest and sincere sentence he'd heard since the end of the game and it consoled him, without him really knowing why.

"No."

Blaise handed him a cup of tea and Draco arched an eyebrow at the sight.

"I was going to serve you Firewhisky , but it turns out it was hard to find some in here." Blaise explained with a smirk. Draco took the cup and drank a sip of tea.

"Potter was faster. It's okay, you'll catch up." his best friend continued calmly. "We can practice. Tomorrow, if you want?"

Draco nodded. Blaise's calmness managed to make him stop brooding. It was more effective than a shower and a yelling session from his father, the only one who managed to pin Draco down enough to know what to say and what to offer.

"Your field tricks were great, though. You should have kept going, that's how you get the Golden Snitch the best. Why didn't you go through with it?"

"Because Potter kept doing weird things, did you see? It was like he was bewitched, like in first year. I laughed at him, obviously."

"You don't think that was a technique to distract you?"

Draco shrugged.

"That Bludger was really strange." Blaise pointed out, remembering the game. " It really only attacked Potter. It was the first time I'd seen that. I thought it was Flint who rigged it to knock him off his broom."

Draco sighed and leaned back against his chair. He didn't feel like remembering the game anymore, it was over anyway. They had lost.

All of the sudden, Theo broke the silence:

"What gamblers usually regret above all is less the loss of their money than of their foolish hopes."

He looked up and met the two stunned faces of his friends, and lifted his book slightly to explain what he had just said:

"It came from there. I thought it fit the situation pretty well."

Blaise burst out laughing, and Draco couldn't help but smile too.

"Really weird, those Muggles."

Hermione

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Dear Mum and Dad,

I hope all is well in London and that you are not too busy with work. I'm doing well here, spending my time in the Library. I'm preparing for the exams and I've managed to get Ron and Harry to do it too. We spend our time immersed in books!

The teachers also give us more homework than usual. There are a lot of practical exams to do, and I'm afraid it's going to be difficult to work at home without being able to practice magic. Do you think it would be possible for me not to spend Christmas in London this year?

I'd love to be with you on the 25th of December, but with the amount of work I have, I don't think I'll be able to enjoy it as much as I did last year. Harry and Ron are staying too, Harry because he doesn't want to go home at all, and Ron because his mother advised him to so he can work straight at school.

I'm sorry, I know how much you love Christmas. I miss you very much, and it will be very difficult not to see you until June.

I look forward to hearing from you,

Hermione.

Hermione put down her quill with an unpleasant feeling in her stomach. She hated lying, especially to her parents, but she didn't want to worry them by telling them about the current climate in the Castle due to the petrification. She reread her letter several times and showed it to Ron, who was sitting next to her at the big table in the Library.

"Very good!" he said as he finished reading.

"I don't really like lying to them like this..." confessed Hermione as she folded her letter.

"It's for a good cause, Hermione. We absolutely have to question Malfoy. It was your idea the Polyjuice, and you yourself said that Christmas time was perfect to be able to confront him."

Hermione nodded, but she was still a little sullen. Ron had never really understood his relationship with his parents, it didn't bother him at all not to see his own for so long. Maybe because half his siblings were with him at Hogwarts. This was the first time Hermione was going to spend Christmas without being with her parents, and that made her a little sad.

She took out another piece of parchment and began to write a letter to Danny. He too was going to be disappointed not to spend Christmas with her.

"Another letter?" laughed Ron.

"Yes, it's for a friend."

Ron raised his eyebrows:

"London will fall apart without you!"

She laughed at this and Ron fell back into his Quidditch book. Harry returned to the table at this point and they were silent while the three of them were busy: Ron reading, Harry finishing his homework, and Hermione writing a letter to Danny in which she was trying to slip in a casual note that she wouldn't be there for Christmas.

The term ended in a tension that Hermione had never experienced at Hogwarts. Between the petrification of Colin Crivey, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nick-Quasi-Headless and the revelation that Harry was a Parselmouth, the Castle seemed about to explode at any moment.

Everywhere they went, the students turned as they passed, staring at Harry and whispering amongst themselves. Harry was probably used to this kind of reaction since he'd arrived at Hogwarts last year, but Hermione couldn't help but notice.

Hermione hadn't lied to her parents when she'd mentioned an impressive amount of work, except that it wasn't homework. She had never seen a potion as complicated as Polyjuice, and Ron and Harry were no help to her. Hermione felt as if she spent her days checking that the potion was in good condition, sitting for hours in the small toilet cubicle that smelled of rotting water. But she was motivated by the fact that she would finally be able to understand this strange boy Draco Malfoy.

Ron was convinced that he was the heir to Slytherin, and even though he had some pretty convincing evidence, Hermione couldn't imagine the arrogant boy doing anything so evil.

Draco Malfoy had taken to threatening her whenever she dared to walk past him. Obviously their debate in the owlery had given him a new reason to hate her even more, and even though Hermione knew for a fact that he didn't really mean what he said, it didn't really help take away the pressure she'd been feeling for the past few days.

"You're next, Granger!"

"Are you going to join your friends in the hospital wing?"

"Don't walk the corridors alone, unless you want to meet the monster, Granger!"

Hermione paid no attention to his attempts at provocation. She knew that Draco Malfoy was just a stupid, jealous, haughty boy who didn't deserve her attention, just as Danny had told her in his last letter.

But Colin and Justin's petrifications proved that the Muggle-borns were indeed in danger, and before she knew if it was indeed Malfoy who had done it, Hermione still felt a little anxious.

Without them realising it, Hermione only walked with Harry or Ron in the corridors. When they weren't around, she always made sure she was next to a Pureblood, like Neville, the Weasley twins, or Ginny. The only time she was 'alone' was in the Library, because she doubted the monster would attack her in a room full of other people.

She no longer sat at the table at the back of the room, but always at the big table where Ron and Harry would join her from time to time, so that she was in the middle and exposed. Whenever she heard a suspicious noise, she would pull out her wand and run through defensive spells in her head.

No one had noticed the change in her attitude, except for two people. It was an evening in December, after dinner. Harry had gone to a Quidditch session and Ron was with Seamus and Dean. So Hermione was alone on her way back to the Common Room, and took advantage of the Weasley twins getting up from the table to join them.

"Hi boys." she said as she walked them towards the stairs.

"Hi Hermione." replied George. "What's up?"

"Not much... How about you?"

"We've been having fun changing Percy's badge again, and we're waiting to see how long it takes for him to realize it." giggled George.

When they reached the corridor of the Gryffindors' tower, Fred asked:

"Are you sure you're alright, Hermione?"

"Yes, why?"

"You think we haven't noticed what you've been doing since Justin Finch-Fletchley petrified? You don't want to wander the halls alone anymore?"

Hermione widened her eyes:

"Wh- How?"

"Not to us, Hermione!" chuckled George.

"Unlike Ron, we're very observant." Fred explained with a smile. "And we can see that it scares you. Don't take it the wrong way, we understand why! If we were you, we'd probably do the same thing. It's only natural you'd take precautions."

"Ginny's in the same state as you." George continued with a frown. " We've explained to her several times that she's a Pureblood and not a target, but that doesn't stop her from freaking out."

"That's why we joke with Harry about him being the heir. To stop her stressing." Fred says.

"But it doesn't really seem to be working too well." George admitted. "Poinsettia!"

The portrait swiveled and they entered the Common Room. George went to join Ginny who was sitting at a table writing, and Fred leaned in a little towards Hermione so that only she could hear what he was saying:

"Don't worry, we understand. If you need an escort into the Castle, we'll be happy to go with you. Although I have no doubt you'll be able to defeat the dragon or whatever that famous creature is with the snap of your fingers."

"Thanks, Fred."

He smiled when he heard his first name, which showed that she recognized him, and went to join Ginny too.

Draco

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Dear Draco,

As promised, I am replying to your letter about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. I remind you that you cannot show this letter to anyone. I have my reputation to uphold, and I don't want rumours to get around the Castle.

First of all, you must know that you cannot brag about knowing anything about this Chamber. It's still considered a myth by many people, and it needs to stay that way until the Slytherin heir gets rid of the Mudbloods. I don't want you to know too much so that you don't bring suspicion on your family, or get into trouble with Dumbledore.

The Chamber of Secrets exists. It was opened about fifty years ago. The last time, a Mudblood was even killed, and the one who opened it was expelled from school and sent to Azkaban for life. Obviously, I don't agree with this decision at all, but the wizarding world believes that killing Muggle-borns is a crime...

I don't want to share the details of this sordid tale with you until the Slytherin heir acts. At the moment, no one is talking about the petrifications that are taking place at Hogwarts, and it's best to keep it that way to keep the coast clear. I don't want you to start investigating on your own to find out who the heir is, Draco.

That's all I can tell you about this Chamber of Secrets. You can reassure Pansy, she shouldn't have any problems, she's a Pureblood from a respectable family, the monster will never come after her.

I would ask you not to ask me any more questions about it, from now on. I've told you all you need to know, and your mother is angry enough that I've told you so much. We've got business to attend to, the Ministry are still searching, and I've got the Hogwarts Board to deal with, and your aunt's will, who lives in Siberia and whose house we're going to attend for Christmas.

I wish you a good end of term and hope that the Malfoy name will continue to be respected.

Best wishes,

Lucius Malfoy.

Completely ignoring his father's warnings, Draco handed the letter to Pansy without thinking. She was next to him in bed half asleep. In fact, Pansy had slept every night since the message on the wall in Draco's bed. He didn't mind, on the contrary, he liked to feel a presence next to him as he fell asleep, it reassured him, even if he would never tell her.

She read with a frown and lifted her head, dipping her inky gaze into Draco's:

"It doesn't say who the heir is." she pointed.

"No..."

"Give it!" shouted Theo from his bed which was dimly lit by his wand to read before he fell asleep.

Draco threw the letter across the Chamber and Theo caught it on the fly to read it, then passed it to Blaise who read it too.

"Fifty years ago?" repeated Blaise. "Isn't there any way of knowing who might have opened it then? Nothing in your books, Theo?"

"No, nothing. The books say it's a legend, and there's nothing in the school archives." replied Nott with a shrug.

"As long as it doesn't affect us, that's the main thing," Pansy decreed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. "And Nott, turn off your damn light, we want to sleep."

Hermione

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On Christmas Day, Hermione woke up strangely early. She looked out the window at the snowflakes falling against the dark sky for a long time and decided to get up and finish the potion. There were only three lines left to do in the textbook they had borrowed and Hermione had to do it now if they were going to question Malfoy that night.

As she got up, she felt the Christmas packages on her duvet and smiled in the darkness. They must have arrived during the night without her realising. She was alone in the dormitory, Parvati and Lavender had decided to go home for the holidays, so she turned on the light and saw on her alarm clock that it was 6:20 am.

The first package was from Danny. She opened it and burst out laughing when she saw that it was a book 'How not to get overwhelmed with work in 5 steps'. Along with it was a small letter:

Merry Christmas Hermione!

I hope you follow the advice in this book diligently before the summer, otherwise you'll never get back to London.

I hope your holidays go well and that you don't feel too guilty about leaving me alone with all our parents for Christmas :)

See you soon,

Danny.

She was relieved to see that he hadn't taken her absence badly and was still sending her a Christmas present. Her grandmother had sent her a big pink jumper because "she knew it was cold in France", and a calendar of pretty landscapes which she hung next to her bed.

Her parents had sent her a nice white tea set, which she could use to drink tea in her room and which was very useful. She had even received a package from Hagrid, which contained a scarf he had knitted.

She got up, put on some warm clothes (including her new jumper) and went down to the Common Room. It was empty and dark. The fire from the night before had gone out during the night and all that was left was a blaze that did not warm the room at all.

Hermione cast a quick spell on the fireplace which rekindled the flame, then went outside to the second floor toilet. It was one of the only times she had been walking around Hogwarts alone lately. She opened the door to the toilet, checked that Moaning Myrtle wasn't around, and took out the book from the Restricted section that she had hidden behind the toilet.

There was only the sounds of the fire gently warming the cauldron and the bubbles on the surface interrupting the silence of the room. Hermione turned the potion clockwise, then counter-clockwise, and added the last ingredient to the potion: dried lacewings, which she poured into the mixture bit by bit. The mixture turned a strange colour, a kind of green that looked like muddy grass.

Then she went to the Castle laundry room in the dungeons, threw an Alohomora at the lock and borrowed three loose Slytherin robes, wrote a letter to her parents, grandmother, Danny, Mary and Neville wishing them a Merry Christmas with their presents, went back to the potion to check that she still looked like the picture in the book, and went back up to her dormitory.

She took the dress she had worn on Dueling Club day and pulled out Millicent Bulstrode's hair. Hermione remembered with a shiver of horror the force with which the Slytherin had propelled her to the floor and the grip of her hands on her neck. She sealed the hair in a small glass vial. Then, hungry, she set off to wake Harry and Ron.

"Get up!" she called out as she opened the curtains.

It was dawn, the sun was peeking timidly over the horizon between the two mountains that bordered the Castle valley. She turned around: Harry was putting his glasses on his nose, and Ron was still lying there, annoyed by the light:

"Hermione, you're not supposed to be in here, this is for boys only!" he protested in a voice hoarse with sleep.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Ron! I've been up for an hour. I added some lacewings to the potion. It's ready now." she said as she placed both their presents on their beds.

"Are you sure?" asked Harry.

"Absolutely sure. We'll be able to do it tonight."

Hermione watched Ron open his present with a small smile. It was a box of Christmas edition Chocolate Frogs. Ron thanked her with a big smile, abruptly changing his grumpy waking mood. He was completely amazed and unwrapped the first one, which contained a card from Bertie Bott that he didn't have yet.

Harry thanked her for the eagle feather she had taken from him on Diagon Alley and Hermione opened her presents as well: a box of toffees from Harry, and a book on magical creatures from Ron.

During dinner, Hermione spent more time looking at the Christmas decorations, which were beautiful, than at what was on her plate. She sat between Fred and Ron who had both put on their jumpers that their mother had sent that morning. She ate as she chatted with Ginny, helped herself to a slice of pudding and popped two wizarding crackers with Fred which contained a cap and a chess set that she gave to Ron.

When she saw that Malfoy had finished his meal, she stood up and gestured for Ron and Harry to follow her.

"We must now get a small piece of the three people we are going to take the appearance of. You two will turn into Crabbe and Goyle. We'll need to take something from them and make sure they don't turn up while we're interrogating Malfoy. I've already got it organised."

She pulled out two slices of chocolate cake she'd just snatched from the buffet.

"I've added a simple Sleeping Draught." she said, ignoring the startled faces of her friends. "Make sure Crabbe and Goyle find the cakes on their way. They'll probably gobble them up. When they're asleep, all you have to do is pull out some of their hair. Then you lock them in a broom closet, so they can't get out when they wake up."

"Hermione, I don't think..." began Harry.

This could all go very wrong..." ventured Ron.

Hermione gave them an icy look:

"The potion won't work without Crabbe and Goyle's hair. Do you want to question Malfoy or not?"

"Oh, alright, alright." said Harry. "But you, whose hair are you going to pull out?"

"I've already got mine." Hermione replied, showing them the small bottle. "Remember my fight with Millicent Bulstrode at the dueling club? She left this on my dress while she tried to strangle me! And since she's gone home for Christmas, I'll just have to tell the Slytherins that I've decided to come back."

She gave them the cakes and went back to the bathroom to check that the potion was still the same green colour it was supposed to be. She waited patiently for Ron and Harry to return, which they did after half an hour. She then separated the potion into three portions and poured them into glasses. It looked like mud.

They put their hair inside, and the potions became even more unappetising than before.

"Wait!" said Harry. "We'd better not drink this here. Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie."

"That's right." Ron agreed, opening the door. "Let's each take a separate cabin."

Hermione watched the two boys exit and heard the two cabins next to her open and close.

"Ready?" asked Harry to her left.

"Ready!"

"One, two, three!"

Hermione swallowed a mouthful of the potion. At first, nothing happened. In panic, she started to lean over to the manual to see where she had made a mistake, when she suddenly felt a burning in her stomach that bent her over.

She barely had time to realise what was happening to her when she felt her skin itch, hard, and her ears get bigger, and a new wave of pain made her groan in pain. She fell to the ground and clutched her head in both hands. Her nose was changing shape, her back was arching and cracking up and down.

She knew that Millicent Bulstrode had nothing to do with her looks, but she didn't understand why it was those specific body parts that hurt. Was Millicent's nose so flattened? Were her ears so protruding?

Her skin burned on every part of her body, as if a new layer was growing over it. She felt as if the transformation took hours. She heard the door to the right cabin open and Ron's voice echoing in her cabin:

"This is amazing!"

Hermione opened her eyes. She was still on the floor, her back in a strange position. Her skin was itchy and she couldn't see like she used to: her eyes were like slits and her vision was blurry.

She raised her hand to try to focus her eyes and saw to her horror that it was no longer a hand. It was a paw.

Draco

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Blaise had returned to the dormitory long before Draco, who had just finished his dessert. He got up lazily and went to the Common Room. His Christmas had not been as festive as the last few years. Probably because Pansy wasn't there.

He found Crabbe and Goyle at the entrance to the Common Room. They entered together and Draco sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace, the one Theo usually occupied. Crabbe and Goyle sat on the sofa next to him, and Draco suddenly remembered something. He rose to his feet, calling out:

"Wait for me here. I'll get you what my father just sent me."

Draco returned to his dormitory, where Blaise was reading in bed. He arched an eyebrow as he saw him enter:

"I wanted to show Crabbe and Goyle the newspaper article my father sent." Draco pointed out as he picked up the piece of paper he had placed on his bedside table. "Do you want to come?"

"And spend my Christmas evening with Crabbe and Goyle? No thanks." Blaise replied.

"Alright, Theodore Nott." taunted Draco, who closed the dormitory door before Blaise could throw his pillow in his face.

He walked back past Crabbe and Goyle and showed them the paper. It was an article about Arthur Weasley, who had to pay a fine for tampering with a Muggle car by making it fly.

"That'll give you a laugh." he promised.

He watched Crabbe and Goyle read the article, which took some time. Perhaps he was too used to the speed at which Theo read, now.

"Well?" said Draco when Goyle handed him back the paper. "It's funny, isn't it? Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he'd better break his wand in half and go live with them. It really doesn't seem like the Weasleys are Purebloods, when you see what they do."

Crabbe and Goyle might be stupid, but they were his only friends he could criticise the Golden Trio in front of and be sure they were of the same mind as him. They had the same hatred for dirty bloods as he did. Crabbe suddenly frowned.

"What's wrong with you, Crabbe?" asked Draco.

"Stomach ache."

"Then go to the hospital wing and give those Mudbloods a kick from me!" Draco said with a laugh. "I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't mentioned these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened tothis place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in."

Draco then pretended to take pictures with an imaginary camera, imitating the first year's high-pitched voice:

"Potter, can I take your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle and was surprised to see that they weren't smiling at all.

"What's the matter with you two?" he asked.

They ended up laughing, and Draco regretted not talking to Blaise, Pansy or Theo who would have caught the joke straight away.

"Saint Potter, friend of the Mudbloods..." continued Draco. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir! I wish I knew who it is... I could help them."

"You must have some idea who's behind all this?" said Goyle hesitantly.

"You know I don't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" replied Draco for the hundredth time since the message had appeared on the wall. "And my father won't tell me anything about what happened the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened. Of course, that was fifty years ago, so before he was a student here, but he knows the whole story. Only he's afraid I'll attract suspicion if I know too much about it. Anyway, one thing's for sure, the last time the Chamber was opened, a Mudblood died. So there'll probably be another one dead soon, just a matter of time... And I hope it's Granger."

He said this last sentence with a victorious air. He thought back to her perfect Miss-Know-It-All look and knew that Crabbe and Goyle hated her as much as he did.

"Do you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time got caught?" asked Goyle.

"Oh yes, I don't know his name, but he was expelled from school." said Draco. "He must still be in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" repeated Goyle stupidly.

"Come on, Goyle, Azkaban, the wizard prison!" explained Draco.

Sometimes it was tiring having to explain everything to Crabbe and Goyle, he'd forgotten how stupid they were. Maybe he'd better go have a chat with Blaise, it would be more rewarding.

""Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward." said Draco. "My father told me to keep my head down and let the Slytherin heir act. He says that the school must be rid of the Mudblood scum, but that I must not interfere. He's got enough to worry about at the moment. You are aware that the Ministry of Magic raided our Manor last week?"

Goyle rounded his eyes.

"Yeah..." continued Draco. "Fortunately, they hardly found anything. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor..."

"Oh!" cut in Crabbe.

Draco looked at him strangely. He waited for him to continue talking, but suddenly he got a horrified look on his face and they both stood up at once:

"Medicine. For my stomach." grunted Crabbe.

Draco raised his eyebrows, but didn't have time to make any comment before the two of them left through the main door. They were strange. Or maybe they were like this all the time but Draco didn't notice. He stood up and walked back into the dormitory.

"Where are your two best friends?" asked Blaise.

"Gone. You can come back, you idiot." said Draco as he put the paper down.

"I don't ignore them anymore, you know." said Blaise as he closed his magazine. "I'm just healthier when I'm not with them too long. I feel like they're dumbing me down."

Draco nodded. He understood what he meant. Crabbe and Goyle might agree with him on a lot of things, but it was hard to talk to idiots like that.

They returned to the Common Room and Blaise suggested a game of chess, which immediately took Crabbe and Goyle out of his head.