Chapter 8: Let's Play Detective
"Claire, wake up!" Claire was shaken awake by Hermione.
Claire sat up in her bed. She didn't remember getting in her bed last night. I must have been really tired. Claire thought. She yawned and grabbed her uniform and a towel. She took a shower and changed into her uniform. She went back to her dorm to grab her bag. Hermione was still in their dorm packing her bag for school.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked.
Claire shrugged. "I feel a bit better than yesterday. But for some reason I can't even remember getting into bed."
"You looked exhausted, Claire. You must've been completely out of it by the time you made it here from the Deathday party." Hermione said.
"I guess your right," Claire said.
Hermione and Claire began to walk down to the common room.
"So, what happened after I left?" Claire asked.
"I'll tell you when were in the Great Hall." Hermione said.
They met up with Ron and Harry in the common room.
"Morning," Claire said to them.
"Feeling better?" Harry asked.
"Yea, better than yesterday at least," Claire said.
The four friends walked down to the Great Hall. Claire noticed as they entered the hall that the normal chatter seemed to have increased tenfold. They sat at the Gryffindor table.
"Ok, so what exactly happened after I left last night?" Claire asked them.
"When we left the Deathday party, I started to hear a voice," Harry began.
"You started to hear a voice? Harry, I think I'm not the only one who should be catching up on their sleep," Claire said.
"No, listen, Claire," Harry said. "The voice was saying things like 'let me kill' and 'time to kill'."
When Harry said this, Claire had a deja vu moment. Didn't she dream about something like that the first day of school? She shrugged off the feeling and continued to listen to Harry.
"When the voice stopped, Ron, Hermione and I stumbled upon Filch's cat. It had been petrified." Harry said. "And then on the wall there were words written in red: The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware."
"Oh my Godric! Did you find out who did it?" Claire asked.
"No, but Filch seemed to think it was Harry." Hermione said.
"Why would Filch think that?" Claire questioned.
"Because I found out he was a Squib." Harry said.
"But you live with muggles- though they aren't very nice- and you're friends with Hermione. You wouldn't do something like that," Claire said. "Well, what happened after you found Filch's cat?"
Harry explained how Malfoy and other students began to show up. Malfoy had said 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!'. Harry then explained how Snape, Filch, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Lockhart had turned up and they were taken to Lockhart's office. Hermione then said how they had to explain how they were there at the scene of the crime.
"You didn't tell them about the voices, did you?" Claire questioned.
"No, of course not," Hermione said.
"That's good. So, what exactly did you tell them?" Claire asked.
Hermione then said they had been at the deathday party and left because they were tired.
"Then Snape asked us why we hadn't gone to the feast seeing as deathday parties don't really serve appetizing food. Ron had said that we weren't hungry which they would've bought if his stomach hadn't rumbled." Hermione said.
"Hey, I can't control my stomach when it's rumbling!" Ron said.
"You didn't get into trouble, did you?" Claire said.
"No, we didn't get in trouble," Hermione said. "I think they believe we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"That's good. But then who did write the message on the wall and petrify Filch's cat?" Claire asked.
It seemed that neither Hermione, Ron, or Harry could answer her question.
A few days had past and the attack on Filch's cat seemed to be the talk of the school. Hermione seemed to be reading more than usual which led Claire to suspect that she was looking for something on the Chamber of Secrets. Claire offered to help and Hermione accepted her help. They were both in the library looking through the shelves of books for anything on the Chamber of Secrets. Ron was also in the library, but for a different reason. He had waited until the last minute to finish his History of Magic homework for Professor Binns.
"I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short…" Ron said furiously, letting go his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny."
"That's what you get for waiting until the last minute to finish your essay," Claire said as she brought a pile of books with to the table Ron was sitting at. "And no you cannot copy off mine." she said as Ron was about to ask.
"What's with all the books? You and Hermione have been reading constantly for the past few days. What's with that?" Ron asked.
Claire was about to answer when Harry walked into the library. Harry saw Claire and Ron and walked towards them looking a bit upset.
"What's wrong with you?" Ron asked.
Harry told them how Justin Finch-Fletchley had ran away from him when he tried to say hello to him.
"Don't worry, Harry," Claire said opening one of the books from her pile, "things will blow over soon enough. And besides why do you even care. Personally, I think he was a bit of an idiot saying all that junk about Lockhart being so great."
Harry then saw the stack of books in front of Claire.
"What's with all the books? And where's Hermione?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Claire.
"Hermione's over there somewhere," Ron said pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Ron, she's not trying to read the whole library before Christmas. She's researching the Chamber of Secrets. And I'm helping her; hence why I have this stack of books in front of me."
Hermione then emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable.
"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all of Lockhart's books."
"Why do you want it?" Harry said.
"The same reason everyone else wants it," Hermione said, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. I wish I could remember it. Any luck, Claire?"
Claire shook her head as she skimmed through one of the books. "Nope, nothing."
"Hermione, let me read your composition," Ron said desperately, checking his watch.
"No, I won't," Hermione said, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it-"
"I only need another two inches, come on-" Ron said.
The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering. Claire rolled her eyes.
"I beginning to think they actually like arguing with each other," Claire said to Harry.
"They probably do," Harry said as they walked into History of Magic.
History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher. 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 class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand. Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.
"Miss-er-?"
"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione said in a clear voice.
It seemed everyone had woken up when Hermione said Chamber of Secrets. Professir Binns blinked.
"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat and was about to continue when Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.
"Miss Grant?"
"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"
Professor Binns sighed. "Oh, very well. Let me see..the Chamber of Secrets…"
"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago-the precise date is uncertain- by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from the prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution. For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."
Professor Binns paused, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.
"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."
There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.
"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."
Claire raised her hand this time. "Professor-what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"
"There is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," Professor Binns said in his dry, reedy voice.
The class exchanged nervous looks.
"I tell you, the thing does not exist," Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."
"But, sir," Claire said, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"
"Nonsense, Miss Mith," Professor Binns said in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing-"
"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it-"
"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore-"
"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't-" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.
"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"
And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.
"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry, Claire, and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his House if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home…"
Hermione nodded fervently, but Claire and Harry didn't say anything. Their stomachs had just dropped unpleasantly. Claire and Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had thought about putting them into Slytherin. In fact, Claire and Harry hadn't told each other either. They started to remember what the Sorting Hat had said them.
"Hiya, Harry!" Colin Creevey said to Harry.
"Hullo, Colin," Harry said automatically.
"Harry-Harry-a boy in my class has been saying you're-" But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall; they heard him squeak, "See you, Harry!" and he was gone.
"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" Claire wondered.
"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," Harry said, his stomach dropping another inch or so as he suddenly remembered the way Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from him at lunchtime.
"People here'll believe anything," Ron said in digest.
The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.
"D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked Hermione.
"I don't know," she said, frowning. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be-well-human."
"Well, then what attacked her?" Claire questioned.
As she spoke, they turned a corner and they found themselves at the scene of the attack. Claire noticed the message was still on the wall and an empty chair stood up against it.
"That's where Filch has been keeping guard," Ron muttered towards the empty chair.
"Is this where it happened?" Claire asked.
"Yes," Hermione said.
They noticed the corridor was deserted.
"Why don't we look for clues?" Claire suggested.
"Can't hurt to have a poke around," Harry said, dropping on his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues.
"Scorch marks!" he said. "Here-and here-"
"Come and look at this!" Hermione said. "This is funny…."
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. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside. Claire walked over and saw the spiders.
"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" Hermione said wonderingly.
"No," Harry said. "have you, Claire?"
Claire shook her head.
"What about you Ron? Ron?" Harry looked over his shoulder. Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.
"What's up?" Harry said.
Harry noticed Claire was trying not to laugh.
"I-don't-like-spiders," Ron said tensely while also glaring at Claire.
"I never knew that," Hermione said, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times…."
"I don't mind them dead," Ron said, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move…."
Claire couldn't hold in her laughter and started laughing, Hermione also joining in.
"It's not funny," Ron said, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Claire, George, and Fred turned my-my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider…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. Hermione was obviously trying not to laugh, but Claire still was openly laughing. Ron glared at them. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."
"It was about here," Ron said, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door."
He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.
"What's the matter?" Harry said.
"Can't go in there," Ron said gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."
"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," Hermione said, standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look."
"Do we really have to Hermione? I mean it's Moaning Myrtle!" Claire complained.
Hermione glared at her and with a sigh Claire muttered, "Fine, let's just get this over with."
And ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign, she opened the door. It was a gloomy, depressing bathroom. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges. Suddenly, the air got colder and Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.
"Hello, Myrtle, how are you?" Hermione said.
"This is a girls' bathroom," she said, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously, "They're not girls."
"No, really?" Claire said sarcastically earning a glare from Hermione.
"I just wanted to show them how-er-nice it is in here." Hermione said.
"Liar," coughed Claire.
"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed at Hermione.
"What are you whispering?" Myrtle said, staring at him.
"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "We wanted to ask-"
"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" Myrtle said, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead-"
"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," Hermione said. "Harry only-"
"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"
"Listen, Myrtle, we just wanted to ask you if you've seen anything odd lately," Claire said, getting irritated. "Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."
"Did you see anyone near here that night?" Harry said.
"I wasn't paying attention." Myrtle said dramatically. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm-that I'm-"
"Already dead," Ron said helpfully.
Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over the floor and vanishing from sight. Harry and Ron stood with their mouths open.
"Good going, Ron." Claire muttered as they left the bathroom.
"Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle." Hermione said closing the door to the bathroom.
"RON!" The four of them jumped.
Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.
"That's a girls' bathroom!" he gasped.
"Oh, good you can read." Claire said sarcastically.
Percy ignored Claire. "What were you-"
"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know-"
"Get-away-from-there-" Percy said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner-"
"Why shouldn't we be here?" Ron said hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"
"That's what I told Ginny," Percy said fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her, all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business-"
"Oh, so now you care about Ginny. Funny, because the last time I've checked you haven't spoken with her once since the school year began." Claire said hotly. She had tried to remain silent but Percy was really irking her nerves.
"You don't care about Ginny!" Ron said. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy-"
"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you both a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!"
And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.
That night in the common room Claire, Harry, Hermione and Ron chose seats as far away as possible from Percy. Ron was still angry with the whole Percy incident where as Claire had sort of calmed down. Ron had kept blotting his Charms homework and when he went to use his wands to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his homework, Ron slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. Hermione followed suit.
"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"
"Do we really have to think on this one, Hermione?" Claire said. "Let's see, he's been very outspoken on his beliefs since first year and called you the M-word."
"If you're talking about Malfoy-"
"Of course she is!" Ron said. "You heard him when we found Filch's cat- 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!'-come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him-"
"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" Hermione said skeptically.
"Look at his family," Harry said, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil though."
"I agree with that," Claire said remembering meeting Draco's father at Diagon Alley.
"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" Ron said. "Handing it down, father to son…."
"You know, now that I'm thinking about it," Claire said. "there could be another person who could be the Heir of Slytherin."
"Who?" Harry asked.
"That transfer student from Durmstrang, Jason Saxton," Claire said.
"Well," Hermione said cautiously. "I suppose it's possible for one of them to be the Heir of Slytherin…."
"But how do we prove it?" Harry said darkly.
"There might be a way," Hermione said, slowly. "Of course. it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect-"
"It's not like we haven't broken the school's rules before," Claire muttered.
"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" Ron said irritably.
"All right," Hermione said coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."
"But that's impossible." Harry said as Ron laughed.
"You're not thinking about Polyjuice Potion, are you Hermione?" Claire asked.
"That's exactly what I'm thinking." Hermione said.
"What's that?" Ron and Harry said together.
"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago. I think that's the only I actually paid attention in that class." Claire said.
"Do you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?" Ron muttered.
"It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into four of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him." Hermione said.
"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," Ron said, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like four of the Slytherins forever?"
"It wears off after a while," Hermione said, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."
There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.
"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," Ron said, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."
"I think," Hermione said, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance…."
"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," Ron said. "They'd have to be really thick…"
Claire cleared her throat and her three friends turned their heads towards her. Claire smiled slyly. "I think I can think of one person…"
Hermione seemed to catch on. "Claire, you can't be serious…"
"Who's she talking about, Hermione?" Ron questioned.
"C'mon Hermione, he's the only one who's gullible enough to fall for it." Claire said.
"He is not gullible!" Hermione said.
Claire rolled her eyes. "Hermione, he's as gullible as a five year old."
"Who are you talking about?" Ron questioned irritably.
"Isn't it obvious, Ron?" Claire said. "Lockhart."