The Art of Secrets

Chapter Eight: The Chamber of Secrets

October arrived with Erica working harder than ever, helping out Severus whenever she could in her spare time brewing Pepperup Potions as a bout of colds spread itself among the staff and students. It was when she caught Severus hiding sniffles that she finally decided it was time for her to take one as well.

The lake was overflowing from constant rain, a cold, damp chill was permeating the castle and the flowerbeds had turned into muddy streams with Hagrid's pumpkins swelling to the size of garden sheds. Flint's insistence on Quidditch practice despite the weather never wavered though, hence why Erica was currently being dripped on by a very muddy, very irritated looking Draco, Harry not stood far behind him and in much a similar state.

"Can you shower before you dump on me whatever is making you pull a face like that?" She sighed, crinkling her nose as she sat up, leaning against the armchair Pansy was curled up in and resting her head back against her legs, grinning when she felt her hand pat her head absentmindedly.

"No," Draco stated quite simply, "We've been invited to a party on Halloween."

"I wasn't aware that there were any social gatherings on Halloween," Pansy piped up, and even Blaise looked over from the chess match he was currently winning against Daphne. "And I would know."

"There isn't any for the living," Harry grinned, running a hand through his wet hair, "It's Nearly Headless Nick's five hundredth deathday party."

"How did you manage to get invited to the deathday party of Gryffindor's ghost?" Erica tilted her head, not even bothering to hide her grin. Trust them to get into the stupidest situation ever.

"He was moping about not being able to join the Headless Hunt," Draco shrugged, pulling off his Quidditch robes and bundling them up to his chest, uncaring that he was only wearing his undershirt underneath, and a pair of tight trousers. "And said it would make him feel better if we showed up and exclaimed how terrifying we found them in front of Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, who leads the Hunt."

"Of course he couldn't join the Hunt," Pansy laughed, "He's not headless."

"Try telling him that," Harry sighed, shaking his head and sending droplets of water showering over them. "The gist of it is you're all coming with us to his deathday party on Halloween in the dungeons, and that's that."

"What about the others?" Erica asked, referring to Ron, Hermione and Neville. "They coming too?"

"Already cornered them before we came down here," Harry shrugged, as though he did this every day. "So yeah. Ron's even trying to convince his brothers to go."

"Absolutely perfect," she grinned in response, though she wasn't quite feeling it anymore. Going to a deathday party after hearing a rather murderous snake in the walls didn't feel like the best decision she'd ever made.

Before she had a chance to say anything more Draco had collapsed beside her, not caring at how Pansy kicked him in the back of his head as she handed Erica a crushed envelope, this time smirking with a slightly evil glint in his eyes as he said, low enough that it would be difficult for anyone listening in to overhear, "We also found this in Filch's office when he tried to get us done for dripping mud all over the Entrance Hall."

"I'll get you done in a minute if you don't back off," she grumbled, but took the envelop from him anyway as he shuffled away slightly.

On the back of the envelope it read:

KWIKSPELL

A Correspondence Course in

Beginner's Magic