Christmas was approaching with the cold, and with the Weasleys staying at Hogwarts for the vacation while their parents went to visit their older brother, the trio realized that it would be the perfect time to interrogate Malfoy. Taking advantage of the fact that he and his watchdogs were also staying at the school at this time of year, the school would be substantially emptied with so many other students going home for the holidays.
Hermione spent her free time getting the ingredients - stealing - and studying how to make the potion perfectly. Meanwhile, Ron and Harry were researching magical creatures to try and find out what they were. They were failing in this mission.
They moved their meeting place from the Gryffindor common room to a girls' bathroom that nobody used. At first, the boys didn't understand why that perfectly normal bathroom wasn't being used, and then in the middle of the conversation they heard whimpering, and from one of the closed booths the ghost of a fourteen-year-old girl emerged. That was Myrtle's bathroom.This made them question continuing with the plan, being in the same space as the teenage ghost is tiring at the best of times. Hearing her cry so much made them uncomfortable, but it was the least used place in the school since the other students also avoided Myrtle.
But even with all that, the plan worked. For the most part, at least, Hermione only failed to get Pansy's hair and mistook it for her cat's fur. Now, while Harry and Ron are in front of Draco, she's locked in the bathroom waiting for the effect to wear off.
Not that they were really happy to look at Malfoy's face. Ron was holding back from attacking the blond, while the snobbish Slytherins were bad-mouthing his father.
"What's with the Crabbe face?" Draco asked, surprised by the grimace on the taller boy's face.
"Stomachache," Ron grunted.
"Then go to the infirmary," the blond said, "kick that muggle-born for all I care." He laughed at his comment.
Draco went back to reading the Daily Prophet, where there was an article about the problems Arthur Weasley was having with the Ministry thanks to the flying car and the theft Harry and Ron had made.
The boys had only heard about what was happening to the Weasleys from the newspapers; none of Molly's letters to Ron had mentioned the subject again. They didn't know if the twins and Percy knew more than the two of them because they were older.
"I'm amazed that the Prophet doesn't know anything yet, the attack hasn't been reported until now," Draco said thoughtfully, "I assume that Dumbledore is trying to cover it up. He should have been sacked by now. My father says that Dumbledore was the worst thing that ever happened to Hogwarts. He loves muggles. A decent principal would never have let scum like Creevey in."
Draco began to imitate the action of taking pictures on an imaginary camera, doing a cruel imitation of Colin.
Harry bit his tongue to stop himself from giving in, but at the moment he wanted to punch the other boy.Potter knew that people could be cruel from an early age, see Duda, but that didn't stop him from being outraged and disgusted.
"What's with you two?" Draco asked, lowering his hands and looking at Crabbe and Goyle.
The two Gryffindors forced a laugh, but Malfoy seemed satisfied. Harry and Ron felt a little panicky for taking so long to react, but from Draco's attitude, perhaps Crabbe and Goyle were a little slow to understand things.
Draco continued his monologue, the boy seemed to like the sound of his voice, he was talking badly about Harry and Hermione, and the boys were concentrating on completing their mission and not just punching the idiot for calling their friend a mudblood.
"And some people think he's the heir to Slytherin."
Ron and Harry held their breath, Draco looked ready to confess that it was him, but then:
"I'd like to know who it is, I might even be able to help."
Ron's jaw dropped in a way that made Crabbe look more slack-jawed than usual. Fortunately, Draco was busy being distracted.
"You must have some idea of who's behind this," Harry said in quick thought.
"You know I don't know, Goyle. How many times do I have to tell you?" "And my father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened. It may have been fifty years before he studied here, but he knows all about it. All I know is that last time a blood-ruin died, so it's only a matter of time before it happens again... I hope it's Granger."
Ron clenched his hands into fists at his sides, Harry sensing that everything could easily be ruined if his friend advanced against Malfoy, even in Crabbe's body.
"Do you know if whoever opened the Chamber last time has been captured?" Harry asked, still looking at Ron
"Of course, they were... whoever they were, they were expelled," said Draco, "they're certainly still in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?"
"Azkaban, the wizard's prison," Draco said incredulously "Really, if you slow down you'll go backward."
He shifted restlessly in his armchair by the fire.
"My father told me to keep to myself and let the Slytherin heir do the work. He said the heir will clean the school of all the filthy blood-ruins, but for me to stay out of it."
Draco looked at Ron, Harry did the same. Ron blushed.
Until his hair started to turn red. His nose was growing too. Their time was up and Ron was starting to get back to normal. From the look, the redhead gave Harry, the brunette understood that it was happening to him too.
"The stomach medicine," Ron grunted and hurried off without giving anyone room to say anything.
Harry followed him, hoping that Draco hadn't noticed anything. They passed through the common room to the passageway, and in the dungeon corridor, Harry felt his feet skid on Goyle's shoes.
They took quick breaths as they ran towards the stairs, as best they could in shoes that were too big for their feet.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked.
"Fine, and you?" Ron said.
"Fine."
"What's going on here?" the voice of someone older made them freeze in place.
The boys immediately recognized the voice, it was the second time this year that they had found themselves in this situation. Sneaking around and being caught by Professor Black who came out of nowhere behind them.
They slowly turned around to find the teacher. The man stood with his arms crossed over a lead-gray gala suit, his gaze was suspicious amidst his unreadable expression as he looked the boys over from head to toe.
"Why are you wearing Slytherin clothes?" he asked a little surprised.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances; they didn't know whether or not to tell their teacher the truth.
Black realized this, uncrossing his arms.
"I told you to tell me or an adult if you got into trouble, or if I found out anything," he said, looking from one to the other, "yet here you are, wearing clothes that aren't yours, walking around after curfew."
"We were investigating," Harry said defending himself.
"The last time I checked, you were students, not Sherlock Holmes."
"Who?" Ron asked confused.
"He's a very famous detective character," Harry replied.
He looked confusedly at the teacher, a little shocked to learn that the man knew who Sherlock Holmes was, but refrained from commenting.
"Anyway, what were you investigating anyway?"
"The Chamber of Secrets," Harry answered before realizing it, receiving an elbow from Ron.
"That's just a legend," Black replied.
"It's not, Malfoy said his father told him about the last time it was opened, and someone died" Ron retorted.
The adult's expression changed for a second before returning to complete expressionlessness.
"Why were you talking to Malfoy?"
The two boys exchanged glances again.
"We think he..." Ron hesitated.
"That Malfoy is the heir to Slytherin."
Black hesitated again, looking at them both before pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a tired sigh.
"Draco is not the heir of Slytherin."
"How do you know?" Harry asked "He clearly could be. pure-blood from an old Slytherin family, he's a racist to the core and wants the muggle-borns dead, he told us so himself."
"Okay, there's a lot to unpack here," Black muttered, approaching them. "First of all, Malfoy is not a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and yes, I know that. One of the tedious things about snobbish pure-bloods from old families is that they tend to study and memorize the family tree of families other than their own.
"That sounds boring."
"Boring at the best of times, really," Black agreed "The Malfoys aren't a family of British origin like Salazar, and the oldest connection they have to any family of British origin is their connection to the Blacks. And I assure you, I have no Slytherin descendants in my bloodline."
"Wait, so you're related?" Ron asked.
"Draco's mother is my cousin," Black informed him, "and before you express your contempt for this family connection, remember, Mr. Weasley, we're also related by marriage, and so are you, Potter."
"We're all cousins?"
"All wizards with pure-blood parents are cousins from at least two other families. By blood or by marriage."
"But my parents aren't."
"Your father was pure-blood," Black said, "didn't you know that? The Potters are a very old family indeed. They have links with several other families, including the Blacks by marriage. A grand aunt of yours, as far as I know, married one of my grand uncles."
Black continued to stare at them, remembering what had been said earlier.
"Secondly, I know that Malfoy has acted reprehensibly and his opinion of anyone who isn't like him is reprehensible in the extreme," Black said, "but that makes him nothing more than a child with bad influences, for now."
Harry had to admit that, after meeting Draco's father, he could see where the boy had come from, and what his future might be. Very bad.
"Thirdly," Black continued, "what do you mean his father knows something?"
"Draco told us that his father told him not to get involved with the House thing or the heir, that he would do the job of cleaning up the school," Ron said.
Black frowned, the biggest show of expression he'd had since he'd appeared after the weary sigh.
"I'll look into it," the teacher said, "but this is too dangerous for you to get involved in, so please stop it now."
Harry and Ron looked at each other again and turned back to the adult, nodding.
"We'll leave that to you, Professor," said Harry.
"Thank you," Black nodded, "now, how did you get Draco to tell you this? And why are you dressed like that?"
"Huh," they said at the same time.
Black just arched an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
"Polyjuice" Ron whispered.
"What?" the professor's tone turned angry, "how did you make polyjuice potion? It's a very advanced level potion for your age, how did you get the ingredients?"
The teacher looked more confused as he asked, and just as surprised. Then he frowned again and looked at him strangely.
"Where's Miss Granger?"
"Why?" Ron said, his voice suddenly squeaky.
"Because wherever you are, she's nearby," he explained, crossing his arms again.
"She...is...huh" Harry stammered, Ron didn't even try to explain.
"I'll let it go for now," Black said shaking his head, "make sure you're back in the common room safely."
"Okay, Professor," Ron agreed, pulling Harry along.
"And minus ten points for Gryffindor for all this mess," Black said when they were a little further away.
They just silently agreed and continued on their way. The boys passed their teacher as they made their way up to the main floor. From a distance they heard the voices of two adults, they looked back and saw them talking as they walked towards the flu area.
"What's up, Black?"
"I need a drink," he muttered back.