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.·:*¨༺𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛❷⇻𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛②⑦༻¨*:·.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚕𝚞𝚋
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❝𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎; 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎❞
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"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" said Hermione, as I filled the other three in on what I heard last night at the hospital wing.
"This settles it," said Ron in a triumphant voice. "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it."
"It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking round the school." Harry added.
"Maybe it can make itself invisible," I said,
"So Dobby stopped us getting on the train and broke your arm ..." I shook my head.
"You know what, Y/n? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you." Said Harry, gloomily.
Earlier that day Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I signed her list; we had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck us as very suspicious.
The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him. Hermione threw the final few ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.
"It'll be ready in a fortnight," she said happily.
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A week later, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were walking across the Entrance Hall when we saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice-board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned us over, looking excited.
"They're starting a Duelling Club!" said Seamus.
"About bloody time!" I said excited at the prospect of finally being able to kick ass without getting in trouble, "D'you reckon they'll allow psychical violence?" I asked Ron with a hopeful look in both of our eyes.
"I hope so," he said, "Even if they don't, I bet you could probably get a few good punches in,"
"First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind duelling lessons, they might come in handy one of these days ..." I read,
"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he too read the sign with interest.
"Could be useful," I said to Harry and Hermione as we went into dinner.
"Shall we go?"
"Well, I'm all up for it, if you guys are," I said, turning to Harry and Hermione, Harry and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening we hurried back to the Great Hall.
The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared.
Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage accompanied by Snape. Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called,
"Gather round! Gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent. In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions -- for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape." said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile.
"He tells me he had quite an impeccable duelling teacher when he was a youngster and that he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself-" At those words, I saw Snape's eyes flash towards me for just a split second,
"and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry – you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in my ear and I chuckled.
"Just what I want for Christmas," I whispered back and Ron stifled a laugh.
"On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"I wouldn't bet on that," I murmured, watching the end of Snape's lips curl upward.
"One – two – three –" Both of them swung their wands up and over their shoulders. Snape cried:
"Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: he flew backwards off the stage, smashed into the wall and slid down.
"Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.
"Who cares?" said Ron and I together, smiling wildly at the injured and embarrassed man. Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
"Professor Snape, if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see ..." Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said,
"Enough demonstrating! Let's have a volunteer pair. Potte- I mean- Darlington, Weasley, how about you?"
"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Darlington to the hospital wing in a matchbox. And I don't believe she has fully healed from her prior injury, so I suggest we-"
"I can duel, look at my arms, does it look inured to you, you blind bastard?" Of course, I didn't actually call Snape 'Blind bastard' out loud, but I did in my head and that was good enough for me. Snape ignored me,
"Might I suggest Potter," Said Snape. He looked over at Ron and me, "Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered, "And someone from my own house, maybe. Malfoy, perhaps?" Suggested Snape, shrugging.
"Excellent suggest, Professor Snape!" Shouted Lockhart as Snape signalled Malfoy to come forward and Lockhart did the same to Harry.
"Scared, Potter?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.
"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth. Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder.
"Just do what I did, Harry!"
"What, drop my wand?" But Lockhart wasn't listening.
"And bow!" Harry and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other. "Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent – only to disarm them – we don't want any accidents. One ... two ... three ..."
Harry swung his wand over his shoulder, but Malfoy had already started on "two":
He stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Harry pointed his wand straight at Malfoy and shouted,
"Rictusempra!" A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.
"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing.
Gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry's knees, choked,
"Serpensortia!" The end of his wand exploded. I watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between Malfoy and Harry and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.
"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, "I'll get rid of it ..."
"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack.
Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight towards Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike. Harry began mindlessly walking towards the snake
"Leave him!" He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful – but certainly not angry and scared.
"What're you playing at?" he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the Hall. Snape stepped forward, waved his wand and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke.
Ron and I looked at each other before I went ahead and began tugging on Harry's robes.
"Come on," said Ron's voice in his ear. "Move – come on ..." Ron and I steered him out of the Hall, Hermione hurrying alongside us.
I didn't have a clue what was going on and neither did Harry, and neither Ron nor Hermione explained anything until we had dragged ourselves all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room.
Then Ron pushed Harry into an armchair and said,
"You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"
"I'm a what?" said Harry.
"A Parselmouth!" said Ron. "You can talk to snakes!"
"I know," said Harry. "And so can Y/n. I mean, we accidentally set a python on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once. But so what? I bet loads of people here can do it."
"Oh no they can't," said Ron.
"It's not a very common gift. you two, this is bad."
"What's bad?" I said, starting to feel quite angry. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if Harry hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin –"
"Oh, that's what he said to it?"
"What d'you mean? You were there ... you heard him." I said, confused.
"I heard him speaking Parseltongue," said Ron, "snake language. He could have been saying anything. No wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something. It was creepy, you know." Harry and I gaped at him.
"I spoke a different language? But – I didn't realise – how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?" Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died. Harry couldn't see what was so terrible.
"I don't know, Harry. But it sounded like you were egging the snake on or something. It was... creepy." said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice,
"What the hell?" I mumbled under my breath,
"Harry, Y/n, listen to me. There's a reason the symbol of Slytherin house is a serpent. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. He could talk to snakes too."
"Exactly," said Ron. "And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something ..."
"But I'm not," said Harry, with a panic he couldn't quite explain.
"You'll find that hard to prove," said Hermione. "He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."
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By next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of term was cancelled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes.
Harry fretted about the Justin incident next to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, while Ron and I used our lesson off to play a game of wizard chess while Hermione was studying.
"For heaven's sake, Harry," Ron said, exasperated, as one of my bishops wrestled his knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. "Go and find Justin if it's so important to you."
So Harry got up and left through the portrait hole without another word, most likely wondering where Justin might be.
"I think he's overreacting if you ask me," said Ron after Harry had left, trying to appear cool. I looked up at him, annoyed.
"Well I didn't ask, now did I?" I said, checkmating the king.
"Darn!" Said Ron, slamming his fist on the desk. I flipped my hair stylishly simply to provoke Ron.
"How about you try and live a day where everyone thinks you're Slytheirn's heir, setting a monster loose around the castle,"
"Another one!" He shouted, earring multiple 'shushes' from all around the common room.
"I have better thighs to do, darling," I said simply, packing my bag to chase after Harry.
"You're not going to chase after Harry, are you?" Asked Ron
"What!? No!" Yes, I was in fact going to chase after Harry.
"Sure," Ron rolled his eyes and I ran out of the common room to find Harry before he decided to do anything stupid.
As I passed by the corridors, I found Harry blundering up the corridor, barely noticing where he was going, he looked like he was in such a fury.
"Harry," I called after him. He stopped at once and looked over at me, the fury on his face melting back into his normal expression within seconds.
"What's got your wand in a knot?" I asked him, walking alongside him. His face turned back to the one before and he began speed walking without even seeing where he was going.
Harry explained to me how he had gone to the library to explain to Justin, but the Hufflepuffs had only further provoked him and accused him of something he didn't do.
Harry wasn't slowing down, which meant I had to practically run to keep up with him.
"Oh, slow down, will you," I said, but Harry ignored me. The result was that he walked into something very large and solid, which knocked him backwards onto the floor.
"Oh, hullo, Hagrid," I said, looking up.
"All righ', you two?" he said, "Why aren't yeh in class?"
"Cancelled," said Harry getting up.
"What're you doing in here, Hagrid?" I asked. Hagrid held up a limp rooster.
"Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm round the hen-coop." He peered more closely at Harry from under his thick, snow-flecked eyebrows.
"Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh look all hot an' bothered." Harry couldn't bring himself to repeat what Ernie and the rest of the Hufflepuffs had been saying about him.
"I said I'm fine!" he yelled. He stormed off, his mind still full of what Ernie had said about him. 'Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born ...'
"What's the matter with him?" Hagrid asked me and I leaned into him to whisper.
"Sorry, Hagrid, the poor boy's having mood swings, bet it's his time of the month," I said to Hagrid and we both giggled kindergarten girls.
"Y/N!" Harry yelled from ahead for me to catch up as I quickly sent Hagrid an apologetic look before bidding him goodbye and hurriedly following behind Harry, who was earning himself a reproving glare from a passing teacher.
"Harry, I'll go and get our books for transfiguration. I'll meet you at class," I yelled to Harry who nodded, before running away.
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While I was gone to get mine and Harry's books, Harry came across two more petrified bodies. One belonged to Justin and the other to nearly headless Nick. The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had been nervousness into a real panic.
There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.
"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron told Harry, Hermione, and me.
"Us, Malfoy, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be." I replied, sarcastically.
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Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Hermione and I, the only ones left in our dormitory, were woken very early by Ron, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for us both.
"Wake up," he said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.
"Ron - you're not supposed to be in here," I said, shielding my eyes against the light.
"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Ron, throwing me my present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the Potion. It's ready." Hermione sat up, suddenly wide awake.
"You sound like Hermione," I mumbled into my pillow.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked,
"Positive," said Harry, sitting down on the end of my four-poster.
"If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight," Hermione said.
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That night during dinner, Harry, Ron and I had barely finished our third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered us out of the Hall to finalise our plans for the evening.
"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione, "And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him. I've got it all worked out,"
She held up two plump chocolate cakes.
"I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom cupboard." Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.
"But what about you two? Whose hair are you ripping out?"
"We already got ours!" said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing us the single hair inside it. "I plucked it off her robes. She left for the holidays, but I don't think anyone will notice."
I pulled out a small thin vile with a couple of short black hairs inside,
"Already got Pansy's. Plucked it when I punched her the other day."
"And how do you plan on preventing her from busting in while we interrogate Malfoy?"
"Gave her a puking pastille, now she'll be in the hospital wing the entire night," I said, smartly as Hermione as I rushed off to check on the potion.
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"Hermione? Y/n?" We heard the scrape of the lock and Harry and Ron emerged looking anxious. Behind me was the sound of gloop gloop of the bubbling, treacle-thick Potion. Four glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.
"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly. Harry showed her Goyle's hair. "Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry, "Hermione said, holding up a small sack.
The four of us stared into the cauldron. Close up, the Potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.
"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. "It looks like the book says it should ... Once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."
"Now what?" Ron whispered.
"We separate it into four glasses and add the hairs." Hermione ladled large dollops of the Potion into each of the glasses.
Then she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass. The Potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.
"Urgh - essence of Millicent Bulstrode," said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."
"Add yours, then," said Hermione. I dropped Pansy's hair into the second glass, Harry into the second last glass, and Ron put Crabbe's into the last one.
All three of the glasses hissed and frothed.
Careful not to spill a drop of my Polyjuice Potion, I slipped into the middle cubicle with Harry and Ron on either sides of me.
"Ready?" I called.
"Ready" came Ron, Harry, and Hermione's voices.
"One ... two ... three ..." Pinching my nose, I drank the Potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.
Immediately, my insides started writhing as though I'd just swallowed live snakes - doubled up, I wondered whether I was going to be sick - then a burning sensation spread rapidly from my stomach to the very ends of my fingers and toes.
The pain slowly stopped, I opened my eyes and looked at myself. I had changed. I felt around my hair and face to make sure.
Then I realised that my glasses were clouding my eyes because Pansy obviously didn't need them. I took them off and called,
"Are you three OK?" Pansy's high shrill of a voice issued from my mouth.
"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Goyle from my right. I unlocked my door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Pansy stared back at me out of dull, deep-set eyes.
Ron's door opened, and so did Harry's. We stared at each other.
"This is unbelievable," said Ron, approaching the mirror.
"Unbelievable." Said Goyle-Harry, "We'd better get going," said Harry, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle's thick wrist.
Ron, who had been gazing at Harry, said,
"You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking." Harry banged on Hermione's door.
"C'mon, we need to go ..." A high-pitched voice answered him.
"I - I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."
"Hermione, are you OK?" I said through the door.
"Fine - I'm fine ... Go on -" I looked at the clock. Five of our precious sixty minutes had already passed.
"We'll meet you back here, all right?" I said. Harry, Ron and I opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear and set off.
We went down the marble staircase when we heard a sudden movement ahead.
The figure was emerging from a side room. It was Percy.
"What're you doing down here?" said Ron in surprise. Percy looked affronted.
"That," he said stiffly, "is none of your business. It's Crabbe, isn't it?"
"Wh - oh, yeah," said Ron.
"Well, get off to your dormitories," said Percy sternly. "It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."
"You are," Ron pointed out.
"I," said Percy, drawing himself up, "Happen to be a school Prefect." A voice suddenly echoed behind us. Draco Malfoy was strolling towards us.
"There you are," he drawled, looking at us. "Have you three been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?" Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy. "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?" he sneered. Percy looked outraged.
"You want to show a bit more respect to a school Prefect!" he said. Malfoy sneered and motioned us to follow him.
"What's the new password again?" he said to me once we reached Slytherin's common room entrance.
"Er -"
"Oh yeah - pure blood!" said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it and we followed him.
"Well sit down then," Said Malfoy when he saw Harry, Ron and me awkwardly standing around the couch.
"You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave." Ron's - or rather, Crabbe's - face was contorted with fury.
"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.
"Stomach ache," Ron grunted.
"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Malfoy, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully.
"I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. A decent Headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in." Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin:
"'Y/n, can I have your picture, Y/n? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Y/n?' Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. "
"You're wrong!" I said suddenly. Malfoy turned to me, raising an eyebrow,
"You think there's someone here worse than Dumbledore?" He asked, dangerously.
"Er- Y/n Darlington?" I said, Malfoy's look turned cross.
"I told you not to talk about her like that, Parkinson!"
"What?" Ron said,
"Sorry, she meant Harry Potter," Harry said quickly.
"Good one, Goyle. Saint Potter. How can someone like him be friends with someone like her? Quidditch Y/n, the Mudbloods' friend," said Malfoy slowly. "She's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or she wouldn't go around with that jumped-up Granger Mudblood. And people think her friend, Saint Potter, is Slytherin's heir!"
We waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling us it was him. But then - "I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."
"You must have some idea who's behind it all ..."
"You know I haven't, Parkinson, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Malfoy. "And father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened, either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it.
He says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing: last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's only a matter of time before one of them's killed this time ... as for me... I hope it's Granger," he said with relish.
I was clenching my fists. I leapt up at once and lunged at Malfoy but Goyle and Crabbe held me back.
"What's the matter with you three!? You're acting very... odd," Malfoy shouted. Harry and Ron dragged me aside as I watched Ron. His hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening, and Harry's scar was coming back - our hour was up.
Ron and Harry were turning back into themselves, and from the look of horror they were suddenly giving me, I must be, too.
Ron grunted, and without further ado we sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled ourselves at the stone wall and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything.
We crashed up the steps into the dark Entrance Hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the cupboard where we'd locked Crabbe and Goyle.
We sprinted up the marble staircase towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
I checked my face in the cracked mirror. I was back to normal. I put my glasses on as Ron hammered on the door of Hermione's cubicle.
"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you -"
"Go away!" Hermione squeaked. The three of us looked at each other.
"What's the matter?" said Ron. "You must be back to normal by now, we are ..." But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the cubicle door. She looked almost as happy as she was when she saw me for the first time.
"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's awful!" We heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.
Hermione let her robes fall and I backed into the sink. Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had gone yellow and there were long pointed ears poking through her hair.
"It was a c-cat hair!" she howled. "M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the P-Potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"
"It's OK, Hermione," I said reassuringly. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions ..."
"Look at my face..." She said, miserably.
"Look at your tail!" Ron laughed before I gave him a hard smack on the back.
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A/n: Hi