"It's so hot," Nott complains.

"Then go swimming!" Elliott in the grass is clearly trying to remain as still as possible when he voices this well-intentioned advice, as though the stinging midday heat would harm him less that way.

"But I would rather not be wet," Nott thinks out loud.

He hasn't been this anxious and awkward for quite some time. He's learned a lot in the last few weeks, he's even developed some confidence in his magic after Rouvenia felt called upon making the Knights practice more strictly and frequent after I let her in on the Greater Good ahead …

As though Dumbledore might need a little help, she increasingly took over the reins for the exercises. She claimed it'd be better to be prepared and not interfere than to interfere unprepared.

In a way, I gathered she was right. And along with Leonora and Harper – and more patience than I could've ever worked up – she's even made good-for-nothings like Nott more resilient.

"Nottie," Leonora sighs, startling me out of my reveries, "you can't have it all …"

Not even she can be bothered to cuddle up to Elliott with those summer temperatures – despite lying right next to him while sunbathing.

"I'm coming with you," Rouvenia suddenly announces. She gets up to shake the grass off her clothes. "Come on, Nott, off into the water!"

She sprints right past him, Eric and Hagrid following her.

"Should we help Nott and curse him to sleepwalk into the water?" I quietly ask Harper as we watch this misery. We're leaning against a tree – and thus in the shade – in opportune distance, equipped with books for the seventh year as per usual.

"What's he afraid of?" Harper wonders. Then she just calls out, "Nott, why are you so hesitant?"

He gulps hard, glancing back at our tree. When he meets my incredulous gaze, he awkwardly shrugs. "Well, it's just … I can hear them now …"

"Hear who?"

"The Selkies and Merrows."

I furrow my brows, then I just can't suppress my laughter any longer.

"Are you being serious?" I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I am!" He approaches us, visibly irritated. "You once said I just needed to listen more closely! I thought you hear them, too!"

"I've never heard a Selkie or Merrow in my life," I set that straight, "that was an obvious lie."

Dumbfounded, he's beginning to doubt himself. "But … but I do hear them now!"

"You hear them …"

Harper also bites her lips to keep from laughing.

"What exactly did you tell him?" she whispers to me, trying not to burst.

"Nott," I groan, "while we're at it, why don't you tell us what they say …"

"They sing about –"

"Nott!" Rouvenia yells as she desperately tries to push Hagrid underwater in the lake. "Where are you? Come on!"

"Just a second!" he quickly shouts back, then he turns to me again and, as so often, seems distressed. "They sing that … that the world is going to change. They've only been whispering it for a while, but it's getting louder."

If I believed a single word, I'd now be just as worried. "So you're speaking Mermish now?" I keep on testing him.

"I do!" he claims, nodding vigorously. "Really! When we've visited my parents together, remember?"

I give him a stern look and nod so he continues.

"Well, as soon as we were back – and you were gone for weeks, I … I practiced as you said. Their language, and listening to it. I sat by the water for hours and it took some time, but soon I heard them. Their voices. Their songs. Prophecies …"

"Prophecies?" I ask, alarmed for good, and Harper has long since put her book down, too. "About what?"

"Well, the … sirens, they … they sing about a revolution, a kind of … new era. But maybe I just misheard?"

I finally get up to bridge the gap between us, directly glaring at him to ask, "What else do they sing about?"

Uncertainly, he shrugs his shoulders, acting all coy.

"Nott, come on," I urge him even louder. "Be more specific!"

His eyes widen at first, then he suddenly can't contain himself any longer and explodes into laughter.

"Got you!"

Elliott – moving an inch for the first time in almost an hour – turns around in astonished euphoria and laughs right along with him.

"Nott was joking around?" Leonora can hardly believe it and grins at Harper. "He had us for a moment there!"

"Hilarious," I grumble at Nott, not laughing at all. "Enjoying yourself?"

"You totally bought it," he giggles with his hands on his hips as I sit back down to Harper groaning. "You should've seen your face!"

"You should hurry into the lake. Otherwise you won't get to keep your face!"

To my chagrin, he seems convinced that he won't die at my hands today, reacting with an almost carefree grin to my threat. As if he'd seen it from Elliott …

He turns around to run for the water, taking Leonora along, only to proceed with a splashing fight on the edge before they even dive in.

"Now it's just the three of us out here," Elliott counts, lying back on the grass again. "We're like iguanas on hot stones."

"You may be an iguana for all I care," I retort while he just chuckles.

"Would you rather be a snake?"

I'm taken aback. "Who wishes to be an iguana?"

"Me, they're like little dragons, only without wings," he eagerly informs me as he struggles to get up. "Come on, you bookworms, put down your read – it's the last day before the big holidays. Go swimming! See, we have to help Rouvenia to finally push Hagrid down into the water – there's no way she and Nott manage it on their own."

"He's right. Come on …"

Well surprised I look at Harper, immediately resisting. "No way."

Pouting, she laughs herself. "Tom, you always refuse, but we're really only studying these days – Elliott's right. We'll read during the holidays, but the Black Lake will not be an option anymore. Pull yourself together!"

"I'm doing great here." I read on like a stoic. "But do have fun."

Into my ear she whispers, "We could discreetly check whether Echidna is right and one of the main pipelines actually flow into the lake …"

I listen up. That wouldn't be all that uninteresting. She can see I'm about to give in.

"Come on!" she urges with a grin. "You're just as much sweating as I am."

"You can't know that," I claim.

"Oh, Tom Riddle, you're not immortal – you sweat just like Nietzsche did!"

With an Accio, she snaps the book from me, then offers me her hand. I sigh and let her pull me along, it's becoming a pattern.

"And how are you going to swim away from the others and closer to the castle without being noticed, huh?" I whisper. "Your brilliant plan has flaws …"

"Your brilliant plans are hardly ever much better," she chuckles. "We'll just explore the area – what's the problem?"

We get closer to the lake – and bloody damn – of course the crowd already in the water can't resist getting us completely wet long before we even get in. Unfortunately, nobody takes my malicious warnings all that seriously today, especially since Harper can't stop laughing for the life of her and, admittedly, the corners of my mouth are twitching as well.

The concept of friendship still doesn't fully make sense to me, but according to Elliott, it's becoming increasingly clear that I'm no longer just out to take advantage of other human beings.

Whatever he likes to keep telling himself …

After Rouvenia receives support from Leonora and Harper in her efforts to drown Hagrid, he clearly surrenders voluntarily, simply to grace the ladies with a bit of peace of mind.

I, however, am already swimming off, finding myself being followed by Elliott, in a much too good mood at that.

"Where are you heading?"

"Away from you."

Chuckling into the water, he yells, "Shall no one notice if the Grindylows come and get you!"

"I'll be fine," I assure him, "and now swim along or leave it – but be quiet!"

Obviously he follows me. "Why?" he soon whispers, catching up. "What are we doing?"

"I'll look for pipe endings of the catacombs since I'm already wet," I reply.

"I'll join, the girls are having so much fun over there that you'd be alone anyway," he decides and now even swims ahead – rapidly so, much to my annoyance.

"Wait," I hiss, "no need to prove how fast you are!"

"It's just vexing you because you can't keep up," he claims, enjoying himself far too much. "You'll have to keep running around the lake with me if you wish to change that."

"No priority for me," I inform him.

"Sure, Head Boy to be," he retorts, but at least he's slowing down.

"And you'll be Quidditch Captain, if the rumors are true."

"I'm going to give Winky Crockett time to wash – isn't that noble?"

I finally grin. "House Slytherin will owe you one."

"That's the real Greater Good," he jokes before groaning anxiously. "It's going to get ugly, isn't it? Lots to do next year. Graduation, finding a place in life – getting rid of a Dark Lord around Easter right before exams …"

"It's already scheduled in the calendar, Ell –"

"At least you're taking notes with it now, instead of tearing your soul apart, I mean."

"Less painful, as it turns out."

We swim on until we're finally as close to the rocks as we can get, right where we assume the chamber to be, below the castle. A little further to our left, the rough rock walls seem to flow into the bay to the boathouse, but since gamekeeper Ogg is usually there, we avoid drifting any closer into that direction.

"Do you really think there are pipes embedded in those massive rocks?"

"It has to be that way," I think aloud, "because Echidna is always surrounded by fresh water. But how it doesn't frequently flood the chamber is beyond me."

"Too bad we can't ask expert Corvinus anymore. I bet there's a retention basin for regulation somewhere …"

I nod. "We have to go underwater for a moment."

"And hold our breaths?" he asks, well surprised. "We won't get far, it's too deep."

"Have you forgotten how to do magic?" I ask him, sighing.

"Oh well … How did the Bubble-Head Charm work again?"

I concentrate for a moment, then I use it for both of us. "Salubrites Capitum!"

"That's it," Elliott rejoices, already echoing into the bubble surrounding him. "Down we go then!"

We nod to each other, then we dive into the thick, green shimmer of the Black Lake with illuminated wands. The water not only gets significantly colder soon, also clearer. The pressure on our ears increases also, much to our dismay.

Now even I can hear them – the sirens. I don't understand their language, but their voices are audible in the distance. Grindylows are rushing past us, so quickly that we only notice them at the very last moment.

We soon realise we don't have to go all the way down to the bottom – one look is enough to confirm whether it's true. Whether there's an opening somewhere, leading to the chamber.

There's tall grown seaweed everywhere, but the closer we get to the rocks holding up the castle towers high above us roughly where I suspect an entrance, knowing the location of the catacombs, fewer water creatures scurry around us. As if they intuitively knew about the legendary mystical creature nearby …

I glance around, letting the ray of light from my wand shift, crevice after crevice, over every ledge and bend of the ancient, solid rock. But just when I think that there simply can't be anything down here, Elliott waves his light in front of me to point into the distance to our left.

He traces an outline that is so blurred in stone that I wouldn't have seen it for the life of me. But Elliott tends to find things …

Little by little we realise that – as in the chamber – it is a carving of Salazar Slytherin's head, deep underwater. And where his mouth is could well be the counterpart to the opening in the Chamber of Secrets.

We swim closer, and soon there's no denying that Elliott is right. He eventually shines the light on Salazar – and the entrance becomes clearly visible. There just doesn't seem to be an opening mechanism like in the chamber. Slytherin's mouth forms the entrance like an eternal portal, but on this side, there's a massive iron grate in front of it.

The chamber may not be Echidna's home after all.
Perhaps, ultimately, it is, above all, her prison indeed …

Elliott's eyes widen at our discovery before he points upwards.
We have seen enough for sure.

"Insane!" Removing the bubbles from our heads, I all but nod at Elliott's conclusion.

And when we swim back to the others, as inconspicuously as possible, we unfortunately find that Raymond, Dean and Orion have joined meanwhile.

Raymond and Leonora get on better than ever. Since he's accepted that Elliott doesn't harm his sister in any way, and that this is not even inherent to the color of his tie, the two siblings have started to treat each other the way a family likely should.

Dean, for his part, was kind enough to forgive Harper. They currently practice controlled explosions with Eric whenever we're in the Room of Requirement – a fact that makes me sick. But I'm even less interested in being accused of 'unhealthy, irrational jealousy', as Harper recently put it, so I regularly try to prevent my hand from cursing Hornby to Hades.

Orion Black, however, still finds himself on a crusade against everyone and everything. As he sees Elliott and me approaching, he's coming towards as well, a rather dark look blooming on his face.

"Where were you two?" he calls out.

"None of your business," Elliott replies, winking at him. "But I'll tell you a secret – we were looking for Sirens."

"I'd be, too, if I were Riddle," Orion replies in a hushed voice. He almost whispers, "But you have no idea, do you? You don't even know it …"

I give him a weary glance. "Know what? Likely you better choke on it."

"I've heard it. About Sullivan … If the rumors are true, she's nothing but a mudblood!"

I can't torture him now – in the end he really chokes and drowns in front of more than thirty witnesses spread around the lakeside. Hence, I calm down and grimly smile.

"Rumor has it your pure blood is wasted on you – what about that?"

"Why aren't you shocked? That she's a mudblood?" He's genuinely wondering. "Didn't she keep it a secret from you?"

"Why would she?" Elliott shouts, even angrier than I am. "My grandmother was a half-blood, too, Orion, how often do I have to remind you? It's completely antiquated to judge from a blood status!"

"You knew it?" Orion ignores him, still staring at me.

"I'm always one step ahead of you," I assure as we swim past him. "And I'd shed yours in large quantities for a drop of her blood, so better watch your mouth."

"Why won't the professors do anything about her being in the dungeons all the time?" Orion still tries to catch up, breathing heavily. "I've complained to everyone – nobody's stopping it! Even Merrythought doesn't seem to mind that you occasionally spend nights in the Ravenclaw tower, despite Dean's hints!"

"Slander and calumny," I retort, secretly more than amused by the free pass that Dumbledore has given us so involuntarily.

"But it's the truth!" Orion shouts in vain.
We pay no further attention to him.

The last day of this school year can be put to better use. Who knows what the next one will bring …