Chapter 16, everybody! In which we see some of Harry's new wardrobe….

Fred and George's plot comes from another Tumblr thread, and I've been rereading Chamber of Secrets in the meantime to refresh my memory on how things went…wow, people went off the deep end quickly even with just Mrs. Norris as the singular victim. O_O

And the new magical species discovered in Hawaii might be familiar to fans of Lilo and Stitch. ;)

Harry Potter © JK Rowling

Mischief Night had Harry, Ron and Hermione debating on what would be proper attire for a Death-Day party.

"Aren't we going to be wearing our robes though?" Ron asked. "So it shouldn't really matter, right?"

"It's the principle of it," Hermione said. "Sir Nicholas would like the gesture that we wore our best clothes for the event, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry, personally, had been wearing his best clothes ever since he bought new ones at Diagon Alley—Dudley's old rags had been mostly shrunk down to his size and cleaned, with him resolving that he'd only wear them at the Dursleys or when he was assured he would be doing something messy, like repotting mandrakes in Herbology.

And goodness did he have fun with the sweaters Fred and George had picked out—especially once the salesclerk showed him how you could make the patterns move by squeezing the tag (which, possibly thanks to magic, never itched). Currently, he had a sweater on that depicted a starry night over a forest, which occasionally had bats, owls, and very rarely a dragon fly past the moon.

Harry was going to have a very hard time not wearing any of these clothes come summer.

They finally came to an agreement that they'd wear nice clothes under their robes, because as Hermione said, it was the principle of it.

Halloween day itself didn't see much action beyond cleaning up the various pranks from the night before, although they did get the first inclinations on what it was the twins had been doing.

"Oi," Dean said to Ron at breakfast. "Since when did you have a brother in Slytherin and Ravenclaw?"

"Do what?" Ron asked—looked when Dean pointed. Harry looked too, saw Fred dressed in Slytherin colors at the Slytherin table and George in similar straits at the Ravenclaw table.

"Fred must have lost the coin toss," Ron decided.

After listening to the twins very loudly declare that they were insulted their respective houses didn't recognize them I've been in the dorm for FOUR YEARS NOW everyone decided to go back to what they were doing.

Apparently, this didn't quite qualify as a stir by wizarding standards.

The trio heavily debated on actually going to the Death-Day party when they saw just how the Great Hall looked, but they had made a promise and Professor Slughorn was also along for the ride to ensure they were committed. He did assure them that he'd come up with an appropriate excuse if they found themselves disliking the party "Ghosts have different standards for these things after all" and pointed out they probably wouldn't be there too long anyway because the ghosts would be wanting to make an appearance at the feast.

It was pretty impressive seeing Slughorn giving a member of the headless hunt a dressing-down for insulting Sir Nicholas, but the rest of the party was—in all honesty—rather dead. Sir Nicholas did thank them thoroughly for taking time out of their schedules to visit when they made their excuses and departed.

"I think we should make a pact," Ron announced once they were out of earshot. "That should we end up as ghosts we'll have more epic parties than that."

"Ron it wasn't that bad," Hermione chided.

Harry opened his mouth to agree with Ron—

Kill…let me kill….

Harry froze, snapped his head around, the hair on the nape of his neck standing on end—

"What?" Ron asked. "What is it?"

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione shook their heads.

"Perhaps you heard one of the ghosts heading for the Great Hall early," Professor Slughorn suggested.

"One of the ghosts would be talking about killing someone?" Harry asked blankly—

Let me rip…let me tear…I smell blood. I SMELL BLOOD!

"There it is again!" Harry squawked, pointing. "It's coming from that way!"

"Harry, no!" Hermione scolded, catching his arm right as Snips bit his ear. "No running after voices talking about killing!"

"There's a self-preservation thing," Ron added.

Professor Slughorn, meanwhile, had freed his wand, sent a bright light shooting away, turned to the hall Harry had identified, wand at the ready.

"Now that's done—get behind me, children," he said, waving them back. "Harry, you said this corridor?" When Harry nodded: "Very well—much as I'd rather wait for reinforcements, we can't let whatever it is roam loose in the castle."

They minced their way through the corridors, everyone with their wands out, Harry pointing out a turning whenever he heard the voice again—

"Gyeh!" Ron yelped, feet splashing in water. "What the—"

"Ah," Professor Slughorn said, examining the flooded corridor. "Miss Myrtle took Peeves' actions poorly, I see."

"Could I have heard her?" Harry asked.

"Doubtful—Myrtle has never been the murderous sort." Professor Slughorn waved his wand, vanishing the water—

"There's something over there," Hermione said, pointing.

They reached the strange item Hermione pointed out, realized that it was a frozen Mrs. Norris dangling from a torch just as several teachers arrived.

"We've got the students heading back to their dorms," Professor McGonagall said, approaching them. "This makes two Halloweens in a row for goodness'—oh my word," she gasped, freezing at the sight of Mrs. Norris—

And, written in big red letters up and down the corridor:

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware.

By breakfast on All Saint's Day, the whole of the castle was abuzz with rumor, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to once again write down, copy, and distribute what they knew of the event.

"Does Hogwarts have a school newspaper?" Hermione asked Percy, helping her with the copying.

"I'll bring it up with Professor McGonagall next prefects' meeting," he said.

At breakfast the next day, Dumbledore made an announcement.

"As you have no doubt heard, Mrs. Norris has been petrified and left with a disturbing message," Dumbledore said. "We are working to track down the culprit as we speak.

"In the meantime, I would like to reassure everyone that Mrs. Norris will not suffer any permanent damage," he continued, nodding at Mr. Filch, still sobbing over his cat. "Professor Sprout has a crop of mandrakes in the greenhouses this year, which will be used to make a potion that will revive Mrs. Norris as soon as they are mature.

"As for the message left on the walls, rest assured that we are looking into anything involving the Chamber of Secrets, and will alert you if there is a need to worry. Saying that, we don't feel there is a need to worry just yet, so you may continue with your current foci."

This, of course, did nothing to stop the Hogwarts gossip mill from working overtime. And, considering this smacked of yet another Hogwarts mystery on par with the Sorcerer's Stone last year, everyone was devoting every ounce of spare time to investigating the Chamber of Secrets, much to Hermione's dismay—only because it meant that all the books on the subject were checked out of the library.

"There's a waiting list as tall as Hagrid!" she reported at dinner.

"Think we should get involved?" Ron asked. "I mean, after last year I'm not so sure."

"We're already involved though," Harry pointed out. "We're the ones who found Mrs. Norris."

"I was afraid of that. Hello Luna."

"Hello," Luna said, Ginny and Colin sitting next to her as she sat next to Ron. "I was wondering if I could have you three's permission to publish your new document in The Quibbler."

The three of them chorused agreement, sure, just please let everyone know that they didn't want any letters asking for details like last time.

"I'll try to make sure that's stressed," Luna said, before turning to Neville. "Do you want to be on our team, Neville?"

"What?" Neville asked blankly.

"Everyone's splitting up into teams to investigate this Chamber of Secrets," Luna said. "Which is very convenient, as I was wanting to investigate it for Dad. Ginny and Colin and I have already teamed up for this, and we were wondering if you wanted to be on our team."

"I guess?" Neville said, still looking very confused.

"Shouldn't you have another Ravenclaw on your team?" Dean asked. "Because if you get to the bottom of this, with three Gryffindors we'd get most of the points."

"The lion's share," Seamus corrected.

"That's true."

"I already asked around my house—everyone has already formed teams, it seems," Luna said.

"Guess that's their loss then," Ron said, tugging a pot pie over to him.

Harry, Ron and Hermione heavily debated about getting involved—well, more than they were. Harry was kind of on the fence, didn't really want to get into another school-sized scheme after last year, but couldn't help thinking about that sinister voice.

It was definitely the topic of debate when they went for tea at Hagrid's.

"Righ' nasty business, all tha'," Hagrid said, in between teaching Harry how to measure gauge with his knitting (although the hat he was attempting was again shaping up to be tea-cozy shaped). "Remember the last time—I shouldn't have said tha'."

Ron dropped his treacle tart. "It was open before?"

"Well—"

"Please, Hagrid! You can't say that and then not tell us!" Hermione said.

"Especially Hermione," Ron said. "She's gone mental trying to find information on it—no offense."

"None taken," said Hermione's mouth, although her eyes said hexes later.

"Well," Hagrid hemmed, hawed—finally relented. "It was well on fifty years ago now—I was attendin' at the time, bout your age. Lot of attacks—one poor girl died. Myrtle, I think her name was—pretty sure she sat behind me in Charms. Poor girl."

Snips bit Ron on the hand for muttering under his breath definitely if she sat behind you. Although Harry supposed he had a point, considering he imagined Hagrid still took up a bit of the view even when sitting down.

"Did anyone find out who was responsible?" Hermione asked.

"No," Hagrid said, expression dark. "More's the pity—I'da liked to wring the bloke responsible meself. Ah, tea's done—tha's looking much better Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said. "But I think you'll be getting a new tea cozy."

"Tha's good—Fang chewed on the last one."

Hermione didn't give up on the Chamber of Secrets, and Ron and Harry resigned themselves to being on her team.

The next History of Magic had her pumping Professor Binns for information—and then Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration. What they got was that Salazar Slytherin made the Chamber of Secrets, meaning the heir was probably in Slytherin.

Harry heard from a few of his Slytherin acquaintances in the Slug Club that once this news spread—and it had like wildfire—that everyone in the Slytherin common room immediately pounced on each other in their haste to vet each other and out someone as the culprit. Mostly because points.

"It's gotten to be like a really elaborate game of Clue," Ross Ambrose said.

"Isn't that a Muggle game?" Ernie MacMillan asked.

"It is," Harry confirmed. "How did you hear of it?"

"My dad remarried a Muggle woman when Mum died—I was five," Ross said—then paused. "Boy, I hope that doesn't put me on the target list."

Harry and Ernie both assured him that as a Slytherin he'd be fine.

"I'd be more worried about me," Harry told him. "I didn't even know all this existed before Hagrid came along."

"I've not heard this story," Ernie said, leaning on the table.

Harry shared, feeling it was an improvement over everyone discussing who was Muggleborn or not and whether or not half-bloods fell into the category and Hermione tell us more about your one theory (Hermione having joined the Slug Club shortly after a combination of recommendation from Harry and Slughorn seeing her grades—in his words, this girl is going places).

"Wow," Ross said finally. "Your relatives really don't like magic."

"Yeah," Harry said, blinking at his sundae dish refilling itself, complete with cherry on top. "I don't know why."

There was also a whole secret black market that sprung up among the students, involving charms and talismans that were supposed to ward off whatever—Neville was buying quite a bit and telling everyone I was almost a squib so yes I have to worry and Luna buying them for educational purposes.

Harry found he liked Luna, and The Quibbler, although Hermione brushed it off as nonsense after a few readings.

"You know that's all fake, right?" she asked, side-eyeing the article he was reading on the crumple-horned snorkcacks.

"But didn't you think magic and unicorns and dragons and three-headed dogs were all fake before Hogwarts?" Harry countered. "We can't rightly know for sure, right?"

"I personally want an article on wrackspurts," Ron said. "I need to know more about that one."

"Boys," Hermione huffed, burying her nose in her book.

Harry wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, so decided not to comment.

"Ah good, no Weasleys to encroach on business," an upper-year Slytherin said, glancing around the hall before pacing down it. "Charms and talismans, tried and tested!"

"What am I, invisible?" Ron demanded.

"Ah right—a customer, no doubt."

"A Weasley, actually—what, are Fred and George getting in on this?"

"Fred, George, Hubert, Edmund, Donald—"

Ron blinked. "Do what?"

"Somehow I've missed there being a Weasley in Slytherin all this time. My contacts inform me that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have had similar oversights."

Ron made an enlightened noise. "So that's what they've been doing."

"As the one who may or may not be assisting, I wouldn't know." The Slytherin extended a hand. "Fergus MacDougall, at your service."

"Hello," Harry said, shaking his hand first. "I'm Harry."

"Harry Potter—yes I know," Fergus said, pointing at Harry's head when he let go. "You should invest in a hat if you want that to be a surprise."

"I keep trying to knit one—it doesn't end well."

"Well I hear practice makes perfect. And by process of elimination you might be Ron Weasley."

"Yeah," Ron said, shaking his hand. "And this is Hermione. She might come up for air later, she's in her deep reading mood."

"An excellent way to avoid conversation, to be sure."

"There you are!"

"Not trying to pollute ickle Gryffindors, are you?"

"Good to see you Donald," Fergus said to Fred, before eyeing George. "Hubert."

"Now is that any way to treat a Hufflepuff?" George asked.

"Especially with the way they know the castle," Fred said.

"Not very cunning for a Slytherin."

"Oi—you take that back!"

"Never."

"And while authority figures are distracted I can continue with my previous activities," Fergus said, hustling away after handing them a card. "My hours."

Ron seemed consternated. "I never knew there was a Slytherin version of Fred and George."

"I'm pretty sure that is Fred and George," Harry pointed out, indicating the twins tussling.

"I know that, I meant Fergus."

"Is he in the Slug Club?"

"Not sure—Ginny! Are you okay?" Ron asked, as his little sister came up. "You're not still upset about Mrs. Norris, are you? Because you really shouldn't, she was a right foul—"

"Ron," Hermione interrupted.

"She's coming out of the book—everyone behave."

Harry felt Ron had the slap upside the head coming.

"No, I'm not, Ron," Ginny said, a little red-faced as she avoided looking at Harry. "I'm meeting up with Luna, we're going to try to track down the heir."

Ron blanched, and even Fred and George stopped. "Ginny, no—"

"It's all right, we're going to have Neville with us."

Snips snorted so hard he knocked himself out of the hood of Harry's robes.

"And it's not like we're wandering off by ourselves so—"

"Hello," Luna greeted. "Enjoying your reading Harry?"

"Uh—yeah," Harry said, lifting Snips back to his hood. "This really does help."

"I want an article on wrackspurts next," Ron said. "And less of you two going off by yourselves."

"It's okay, we have Neville."

From the sounds of it, Snips was gnawing on Harry's robes to keep from laughing so hard he hurt.

"Oi Neville!" Fred yelled, waving at the Gryffindor hastening after Colin Creevey. "You'd better take care of our baby sister!"

"Yeah," George added. "We Hufflepuffs can get surprisingly scary when motivated."

Neville stopped, apparently unsure how to take this.

"Wow!" Colin said. "How many siblings do you have?"

"Well there's Donald, Bill, Charlie—"

"Fred, George, ickle Ronnie," Fred added.

"And you have to call him that, it's the rule."

"Hermione, can I borrow your book?" Ron asked.

"If it's to hit your brothers again, then no," Hermione said.

"Percy, Ginny, Edmund—"

"I met Edmund," Luna said. "he seemed very nice."

"Well we Weasleys do try."

"So are we ready to go?" Colin asked.

"Yes," Ginny said, shouldering her bag.

"Um, Luna?" Neville asked, looking at Luna's feet—which, now that Harry looked, were bare. "Where are your shoes?"

"I'm not sure—they all seem to have gone missing," Luna said. "Perhaps we'll come across them in our search for the heir. Or maybe the heir stole them for some reason—it's a possibility we might have to entertain."

"Or maybe it's an entirely different mystery," George pointed out.

"Those are tricky," Fred said. "Although I don't think you get house points for solving a shoe caper."

"We don't know that."

"That's true."

"We should probably go now," Ginny said, heading off, Colin running after her with his camera.

"Yes," Luna agreed, following. "I hope it's not that new magical species discovered in Hawaii—I don't want to lose all my left shoes."

Neville was sighing as he followed. "I'm not ready to be the mature one of the group."

Snips laughed so hard he fell to the floor.