Chapter Text
— CHAPTER EIGHT —
The Deathday Party
October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. . . . The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire.
Ginny rolled her eyes as she took a few slow breaths to calm herself down after that last chapter. Percy’s eyebrows were pinched and he glanced at Ginny worriedly and a bit guilty so she said, “It’s fine Percy. Nothing you would’ve done could have helped anyway.” Though that only made him look worse.
Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flowerbeds turned into muddy streams and Hagrid’s pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. . . . They reported that the Slytherin team were no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like jump-jets.
“How dare you spy on us,” Malfoy said with an ugly sneer.
“As if your team hasn’t done it,” Angelina scowled, her hands clenching in her lap, “We’ve seen you, you know? You guys aren’t as stealthy as you think you are.” Malfoy opened his mouth to say something else but Daphne Greengrass elbowed him and shook her head when he turned to her. Angelina tilted her head in thought as she watched this silent interaction, though if that wasn’t confusing enough she noticed Blaise Zabini silently laughing behind Malfoy’s back, his shoulders shaking as he covered his smile with his hand. What was going on over there?
As Harry squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. . . . ‘But you would think, wouldn’t you,’ he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, ‘that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?’
“He applies every few years and they always reject him,” Minerva sighed, “I don’t know why he keeps doing this to himself.”
‘Oh – yes,’said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree. . . . There was a thick tartan scarf bound around his head, and his nose was unusually purple.
Poppy sighed. She had told Filch to take the week off at least, but did he listen, no, of course not. He was a ridiculously stubborn man, who does this to himself then gets man at everyone else for it.
‘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. . . . It was common knowledge that he was always begging Dumbledore to let him suspend students by their ankles from the ceiling.
Amelia gestured to Percy to make a note of that information. She couldn’t believe her niece never told her about this. Even if the man wasn’t able to do it, he still wanted to, and that was enough to keep him as far away from children as possible.
Filch grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and began shuffling around looking for parchment. . . . But as Filch lowered his quill, there was a great BANG! on the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle.
“Wonderful timing,” George chuckled, his twin beaming beside him.
‘PEEVES!’ Filch roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of rage. ‘I’ll have you this time, I’ll have you!’ . . . 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
Kingsley winced, that course was well known to be a scam.
A Correspondence Course in Beginners’ Magic
Intrigued, Harry flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. . . . His eyes fell on Harry and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope which, Harry realised too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started. Filch’s pasty face went brick red.
“Oh no,” Hannah breathed, sharing a worried look with Susan, and Neville who was sitting behind them.
Harry braced himself for a tidal wave of fury. . . . Behind him, Harry could see the wreckage of a large black and gold cabinet which appeared to have been dropped from a great height.
Minerva sighed, quietly relieved. She was glad Nick was as protective of Gryffindors as she is, though she should speak to him about being careful not to be caught if he ever did this again, and to only help students who weren’t actually breaking rules.
‘I persuaded Peeves to crash it right over Filch’s office,’ said Nick eagerly. ‘Thought it might distract him –’ . . . It would be such an honour if you would attend. Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, and Mr Longbottom would be most welcome too,
“Oh, that’s such an honor to be invited to a deathday party,” Theo Nott said, raising an eyebrow at the four who got invited, “They normally don’t like alive people being involved in their traditions.”
“Really?” Padma asked.
Theo turned to the Ravenclaw girl who was looking at him curiously. Nodding he said, “Yes. Ghosts tend to be quite secretive about their different practices, that’s why almost no one knows anything about them.”
of course – but I dare say you’d rather go to the school feast?’ He watched Harry on tenterhooks. . . . ‘Of – of course,’said Harry.
Nearly Headless Nick beamed at him.
“Oh, how sweet,” Molly muttered to herself. Harry really was such a kind boy.
‘A Deathday Party?’ said Hermione keenly, when Harry had changed at last and joined her and Ron in the common room. . . . Fred had ‘rescued’ the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smouldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.
Molly huffed angrily, “Boys.”
“That was very dangerous boys, you shouldn’t have done that,” Minerva sighed. Both boys winced, giving her identical sorry looks.
Harry was on the point of telling Neville, Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the Salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. . . . So, at seven o’clock, Harry, Ron, Neville 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 towards the dungeons. . . . As Harry shivered and drew his robes tightly around him, he heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.
A few people flinched at the sound as it grated at their ears.
‘Is that supposed to be music?’ Ron whispered. . . . ‘She haunts the girls’ toilet on the first floor,’said Hermione.
‘She haunts a toilet?’ Neville asked.
“Yes, it’s very strange,” Lavender said.
‘Yes. It’s been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. . . . ‘I expect they’ve let it rot to give it a stronger flavour,’ said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.
‘Can we move? I feel sick,’said Ron.
Charlie nodded, “That doesn’t sound very nice to stand next to.”
“Trust me it wasn’t,” Ron groaned.
They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in mid-air before them. . . . ‘You’ve missed out “spotty”,’ Peeves hissed in her ear. Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with mouldy peanuts, yelling, ‘Spotty! Spotty!’
“Oh that poor girl,” Ted muttered to his wife who nodded sadly.
‘Oh, dear,’said Hermione sadly.
Neville’s mouth had dropped open as he stared after the two ghosts. . . . ‘Live ’uns!’ said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter). . . . But I mean to say – look at the fellow –’
Minerva’s lips pursed as she crossed her arms. This was very unnecessary and rude, she didn’t understand why Nick would want to be a part of the hunt if this is how they acted.
‘I think,’ said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, ‘Nick’s very – frightening and – er –’ . . . Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick’s head went sailing past him to loud cheers.
All Gryffindors former and current in the room frowned at the way their house ghost was being treated.
Harry was very cold by now, not to mention hungry.
‘I can’t stand much more of this,’ Neville muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor. . . . ‘Listen!’said Harry urgently, and his three friends froze, watching him.
‘… kill … time to kill …’
Alastor narrowed his good eye at the Weasley girl whose hands were shaking slightly while his magic eye stared at Lucius Malfoy. He had narrowed his eyes at the book, though he wasn’t anywhere near as confused as everyone else was.
The voice was growing fainter. . . . Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, his friends clattering behind him.
Amelia sighed and shook her head. She understands why he followed the voice, but he really shouldn’t’ve. Though there wasn’t much of a point in lecturing him now.
‘Harry, what are we –’ . . . ‘It’s going to kill someone!’ he shouted, and ignoring his friends' bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps. . . . THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Parvati grimaced, she remembered how this had looked when they’d all come up from the feast. She was ashamed that she had believed the rumors that year, because if you really thought about it for more than two seconds it didn’t make any sense for Harry to be the one attacking people. She really was glad Harry didn’t hold a grudge against everyone who listened to the rumors that year or Parvati and Lavender wouldn’t have been able to become his friends in third year.
‘What’s that thing – hanging underneath?’ said Neville, a slight quiver in his voice. . . . All four of them realised what it was at once, and leapt backwards with a splash. Neville let out a loud gasp.
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.
Remus bit his lip as he thought through all the rumors he’d heard about Harry’s second year, he didn’t think he’d ever heard what had been attacking students. “Petrified, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” Pomona said quietly.
For a few seconds, they didn’t move. Then Ron said, ‘Let’s get out of here.’ . . . Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students, pressing forward to see the grisly sight.
Then someone shouted through the quiet. ‘Enemies of the heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!’ It was Draco Malfoy.
“Mr Malfoy, you cannot say that word. It is despicable,” Augusta ground out as she glared at the boy and his parents who weren’t even bothering to pretend to reprimand their son.
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.
“You were smiling?” Katie wondered, “How can you smile about something like that?”
— CHAPTER NINE —
The Writing on the Wall
‘What’s going on here? What’s going on?’ Attracted no doubt by Malfoy’s shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. . . . In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville and detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket. ‘Come with me, Argus,’ he said to Filch. ‘You too, Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger.’
Hannah rolled her eyes, “No wonder there were so many people absolutely convinced Harry had done it.” Several D.A members nodded and to Hannah’s surprise so did Daphne, Theo, and Blaise.
“Miss Abbott? What do you mean?” Kingsley asked, not quite seeing what the children were clearly seeing.
“Dumbledore basically confirmed without even saying anything that he thought Harry and his friends did it,” Hannah said, “He may not have meant to, but by not addressing it when nearly the whole school was there he allowed rumors and first impressions of the scene spread around to everyone else. Then by continuing to ignore the issue of the rumors when the attacks kept happening, he made it seem that the rumors were correct and allowed for Harry to be terrorized by his peers for something he didn’t do!” Pausing, she took a shaky breath, “Sorry for the yelling.”
Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. ‘My office is nearest, Headmaster – just upstairs – please feel free –’ . . . Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching. . . . ‘… I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou,’ said Lockhart, ‘a series of attacks, the full story’s in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once …’
Sirius chuckled when Remus sighed tiredly. This guy was hilarious, at least for now, though Sirius was sure Lockhart’s stupidity would soon turn to annoying rather than funny. Though Moony was already annoyed by him which was interesting to watch.
The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. . . . ‘Because – because –’ Harry said, his heart thumping very fast; normally Harry was a very good liar, but he was too shaken up tonight to think straight, he couldn’t tell the truth though as something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear, ‘because we were tired and wanted to go to bed,’ he said.
Alastor grunted as he shook his head slightly, “I know why you didn’t say anything lad, but knowing you could hear what was causing this would have been helpful to know. Especially once more attacks happened. Though,” know he turned to Albus, “the Aurors really should have been called in.”
‘Without any supper?’ said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face. . . . I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest.’
“Really?” Andromeda said, an eyebrow raised as she observed the Slytherin head, “Even if he had done it, that punishment in no way correlates to what happened. How would he have learned from that?”
‘Really, Severus,’ said Professor McGonagall sharply, ‘I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn’t hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong.’
Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he was being X-rayed.
Wrinkling his nose Mad-Eye wrote a note about Dumbledore possibly using legilimency on students.
‘Innocent until proven guilty, Severus,’ he said firmly. . . . ‘You may go,’ Dumbledore said to Neville, Harry, Ron and Hermione. They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. . . . Something in Ron’s voice made Harry ask, ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’
“I’ll always believe you, love,” Ron said quietly over his sister’s head. He refused to acknowledge what happened at the start of fourth year as having been himself. The real Ron would never have done or said those things to Harry.
‘Course I do,’said Ron quickly. ‘But – you must admit it’s weird …’ . . . ‘And what on earth’s a Squib?’said Harry.
To his surprise, Neville stifled a snigger.
“Neville,” Augusta chastised her grandson, he should not be laughing at someone, squib or not.
‘Well – it’s not funny really – but as it’s Filch …’ he said. . . . ‘They’ll catch the nutter who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he’s got time to Petrify Filch before he’s expelled. I’m only joking –’ Ron added hastily, as Ginny blanched.
“I hope you do better cheering up Hermione and Harry, because that was abysmal,” Ginny hissed in her brother's ear.
Ron’s ears went red in embarrassment, “I was twelve then, give me a break.”
The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry, Ron or Neville get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out. . . . ‘I don’t believe it, I’m still eight inches short …’ said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll which Neville quickly grabbed to measure his own homework, ‘and Hermione’s done four feet seven inches and her writing’s tiny.’
“Miss Granger please try to cut yourself off at the required length,” McGonagall sighed. Hermione nodded hurriedly.
‘Where is she?’ asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework. . . . ‘All the copies of Hogwarts: A History have been taken out,’ she said, sitting down next to Neville. . . . The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering. Neville asked Harry about his essay on the way. History of Magic was unfortunately the dullest subject on their timetable. . . . He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff-room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.
“We really do need to get rid of him,” Filius said.
Minerva nodded wondering if she’d be able to get Remus back, even if it was to teach History instead of Defence.
Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming round long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. . . . ‘The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course,’ he said. ‘Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.’
“He really doesn’t like mysteries does he?” Tonks rolled her eyes, maybe that’s why his teaching was so dull, he didn’t allow himself to have fun with the subject matter.
Hermione’s hand was back in the air. ‘Sir – what exactly do you mean by the ‘horror within’ the Chamber?’ . . . ‘I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony,’ Ron told Harry, Neville and Hermione, as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. . . . Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I’d’ve got the train straight back home …’
Andromeda shook her head, a little disappointed in the boy, but she knew him saying this was just born from the manipulations of Dumbledore and bad-mouthing of Slytherins by the boy's parents and possibly his siblings as well. She also couldn’t entirely blame that either as the only Slytherins the boy knew were awful bullies. She still couldn’t believe her sister had raised such an awful boy.
Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn’t say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly. Harry had never told any of them that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it was yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he’d placed the Hat on his head a year before. ‘You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that …’
“Oh, we don’t care about that,” Ron said, Harry’s other friends nodding along.
But Harry, who had already heard of Slytherin house’s reputation for turning out dark wizards, had thought desperately, ‘Not Slytherin!’ and the Hat had said, ‘Oh, well, if you’re sure … better be Gryffindor …’ . . . Harry got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack in the glass.
Ron shivered, his face twisting into a grimace at the thought of all the spiders they’d seen and interacted with that year.
A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside. . . . ‘I – don’t – like – spiders,’said Ron tensely. Neville’s eyebrows drew together. . . . ‘I just don’t like the way they move …’
Hermione giggled. Neville turned to her with wide unbelieving eyes.
Hermione groaned and shook her head, “I’m sorry Ron.”
He waved her apology away with a small smile.
‘It’s not funny,’ said Ron, fiercely. ‘If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my – my teddy bear into a dirty great spider because I broke his toy broomstick. You wouldn’t like them either if you’d been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and …’ He broke off, shuddering.
“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to do it, and I didn’t realize it scarred you so much,” Fred murmured to his youngest brother.
Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. . . . ‘What’s the matter?’said Neville.
‘Can’t go in there,’said Ron gruffly, ‘that’s a girls’ toilet.’ . . . Harry and Ron went to look while Neville stayed by the door.
“Good, always have a lookout,” Alastor told the kids, ignoring the many sharp looks and loud reprimands coming from the adults around him.
Moaning Myrtle was floating on the cistern of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin. . . . ‘Ask her if she saw anything,’ Harry mouthed at Hermione.
Lavender winced, “Bad move, she won’t answer any of your questions now.”
‘What are you whispering?’said Myrtle, staring at him. . . . ‘Already dead,’said Ron helpfully.
“Ron!” Molly shouted, causing the people closest to her to wince and rub their ears.
“Sorry,” Ron said.
Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over and dived head first into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight; from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend. . . . Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle’s gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all four of them jump.
‘RON!’ Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.
“Oh no,” Tonks chuckled, her magic becoming giddy and active in her humour.
‘That’s a girls’ bathroom!’ he gasped. ‘What were you –?’ . . . ‘Five points from Gryffindor!’ Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. ‘And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I’ll write to Mum!’
“I know you’re trying to keep them safe, Perce, but you really shouldn’t’ve threatened to write to Mum,” Bill told his younger brother quietly.
Percy nodded, “I know. I was just worried about having a repeat of the year before.”
And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron’s ears.
Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. . . . ‘Of course I am!’ said Ron. ‘You heard him: “You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” Come on, you’ve only got to look at his foul rat face to know it’s him –’
“I think he looks more like a ferret personally,” Ginny whispered to Ron and Harry, making Ron choke on his tea.
‘Malfoy, the heir of Slytherin?’said Hermione sceptically.
‘Look at his family,’ said Neville, closing his books, too. . . . And dangerous, very dangerous. We’d be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect.’
‘How is that different than last year?’ Neville said.
“Uh, it was different,” Seamus insisted.
“How?” Neville asked.
Seamus smirked as he replied, “Dean and I were there.”
Neville rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but I didn’t know you two would be involved then, did I?”
‘If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won’t you?’said Ron irritably. . . . ‘What’s that?’said Ron and Harry together as Neville narrowed his eyes.
‘Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago –’
‘D’you think we’ve got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?’ muttered Ron.
Minerva raised an eyebrow at her lion who quickly defended himself, “I was joking, professor.”
‘It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into four of the Slytherins. . . . ‘Oh, come on, no teacher’s going to fall for that,’said Neville. ‘They’d have to be really thick …’
‘Well …’ Ron muttered with a small smile.
“Oh, that idiot,” Remus sighed, running a hand down his face as he realised what the children did. He had to admit it was smart, but he was simultaneously so disappointed that it actually worked.
“Lunch?” Molly asked briskly, already bustling out the room.