Book: Courage
Chapter 22
Word Count: 4461
The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? 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, Layla, and Hermione. "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and I think Parkinson is also staying to try and get Malfoy to notice her some more. She's desperate for his attention, that one. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."
"The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready," said Hermione. "We'll be getting the truth out of Malfoy any day now."
At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Layla found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that she, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice dueling in private.
Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr and Mrs Weasley, which Layla loved, happy to spend the summer with the twins and the girl who was practically her little sister by the way they instantly clicked and formed that sister bond.
Percy, however, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had already told them pompously that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.
Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Hermione had woken up at six o'clock and woke Layla up, much to her annoyance. It was Christmas, after all. She just wanted to sleep in.
Ginny had been staying in Layla and Hermione's dorm since all of the young girl's roommates had gone home for Christmas, and so had Parvati and Lavender, so there were two extra beds in the dorm. Ginny didn't want to stay in a dorm alone when there was a monster hidden within the school, so Layla had offered her to come stay in their dorm.
As soon as Layla woke up, she was greeted with some Christmas presents at the foot of her bed. She and Hermione opened their Christmas presents quietly so they didn't wake up Ginny, who was silently sleeping in Parvati's bed until the Patil girl returned.
Layla got a wizard's chess set and a Quidditch jersey that was personally made since it had the words 'Layla Lupin' on the back of it from Remus (and the usual white chocolate exploding bon bons, of course) and Layla reminded herself to wear the jersey for Quidditch tryouts next year. She got a large tin of treacle fudge from Hagrid, some homemade gingerbread cookies along with a pink and purple knitted scarf from Mr and Mrs Weasley, a pack of non-explodable luminous balloons from Ron, a book on the New Theory of Numerology as well as a homework planner, a luxury eagle-feather quill, and a pair of ruby red earrings from Hermione, and then Layla also got a replica of a snitch, some fizzing whizbees, and a Christmas jumper from Harry, some chocolate frogs, some gloves, a charm bracelet from Ginny, and then Fred and George had worked together for their gift, getting Layla some dungbombs, Bertie Bott's Ever Flavour Beans, and some Chinese fortune sticks.
After Layla and Hermione had opened their Christmas presents, Layla slid into her own personalized Quidditch jersey that her dad had got her, thinking that it would be best to wear it sooner rather than later to show off her passion for Quidditch.
She and Hermione then raced to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and Layla simply watched as Hermione started adding lacewing flies to the potion.
An hour later, the potion resembled black mud, bubbling slowly and billowing gray smoke, just as the book said it should. Grinning with pride, Hermione stood up and grabbed Layla's hand, pulling her up as well. They then ran back to the common room.
The two ran up the stairs to the boys' dorms to let them know that the potion was ready. Hermione slammed open the door loudly, causing Layla to wince in guilt as both Harry and Ron woke up with a jolt.
"Wake up," Hermione said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.
"Guys, you're not supposed to be in here—" said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.
"Merry Christmas to you, too," Layla chuckled. "Blame Hermione. She's the one who woke me up at six in the morning!"
"It was needed. Well, I suppose I could have done it myself. Sorry," shrugged Hermione. She turned to Harry and Ron. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."
"Are you sure?" asked Harry, sitting up.
"Positive," said Hermione, stood between the two boys' beds. Layla shifted Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron's four-poster.
"If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight," Layla suggested.
Harry and Ron then both opened all of their Christmas presents.
No one could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at Hogwarts. The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at.
Hermione soon ushered Harry, Layla, and Ron out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.
"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione matter-of-facdy, as though she were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's, Goyle's, and Parkinson's. They're around him the most. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him. I've got it all worked out," she went on smoothly. She held up two plump chocolate cakes to Harry and Ron. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet. As for Parkinson, she's a skeptical one and won't fall for it. Layla, we can just cast Petrificus Totalus on her, but we have to make sure she doesn't see that it's us hexing her."
"Good. I've already got a piece of Parkinson," said Layla, holding up a small vial with a few stands of Parkinson's hair inside. "Grabbed them with magic from her disgusting head when she was distracted during our duel at the dueling club. I wasn't going near her hair with my hands. No way."
"I've already got mine, too!" said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. "Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she's gone home for Christmas — so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."
Hermione then grabbed Layla's hand, practically pulling her away to go check on the Polyjuice Potion again. Layla called a quick goodbye to Harry and Ron, following quickly after Hermione.
They passed the laundry on the way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and stole four sets of Slytherin uniform. Three big sets for Harry, Ron, and Hermione since the people they were changing into were much bigger in size, and a smaller set for Layla since Pansy was rather petite.
Lucky for them, they saw Pansy walking down a deserted corridor. Hermione pulled Layla behind a suit of armor and then performed the 'petrificus totalus' spell on her. Pansy immediately collapsed to the ground. Hermione quickly whispered another spell so Pansy couldn't see anything for the next hour as if she were blind. Then, Layla and Hermione shut her in a broom closet. They left it unlocked, though. No one really went down that corridor and Pansy would be able to leave when she broke free from the spell, which wouldn't be until the Polyjuice Potion wore off.
Then, Layla and Hermione walked as calmly as possible to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and Hermione began stirring the potion. Layla then jumped violently, startled, when someone started knocking on the door.
"Guys?" said Ron quietly. Layla stood up to open the door for him and Harry, ushering them in.
"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly. Their mission was proven successful as Harry and Ron held up several hairs each. "Good. Layla and I sneaked those spare robes out of the laundry," Hermione said as Layla held up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle, and we got Layla a smaller size, of course. 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. She handed one to Layla. Then, her hand trembling, Layla shook Pansy's hair out of its vial into the 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 Pansy Parkinson, the girl who whines more than Myrtle," said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."
Harry then dropped Goyle's hair into his glass and Ron put Crabbe's into his one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown.
"Hang on," said Harry. "We'd better not all drink them in here. Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie. And Layla, from how short Pansy is, you'll be drowning in your robes."
"Good thinking," said Ron, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate stalls."
Careful not to spill a drop of her Polyjuice Potion, Layla slipped into the middle stall.
Pinching her nose, she drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.
Immediately, her insides started writhing as though she'd just swallowed live snakes — doubled up, she wondered whether she was going to be sick — then a burning sensation spread rapidly from her stomach to the very ends of her fingers and toes — next, bringing her gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over her body bubbled like hot wax — and before her eyes, her hands began to shrink, the nails becoming cleaner but shorter, the knuckles becoming barely noticeable — her shoulders shrunk painfully and a prickling on her forehead told her that hair was creeping down toward her eyebrows from where Pansy had her bangs practically falling into her eyes — her robes felt larger on her body as she shrunk some more to Pansy's short height — luckily, Pansy seemed to still have the same shoe size as her so her shoes still fit her perfectly.
As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Layla lay on the stone-cold floor, panting breathlessly, but quickly scrambled to her feet when she started feeling Déjà Vu to all of the times she would wake up on the floor of the same bathroom after blacking out.
So this was what it felt like, being Pansy. Her small hand trembling, she pulled off her old robes, which she was practically drowning in as Harry had predicted, the bottom of the robes sweeping across the floor around her feet. Layla pulled on the spare ones. She reached up to brush her bangs to one side, keeping it out of her eyes.
"Are you three okay?" Goyle's low rasp of a voice issued from the stall next to Layla. It was Harry.
"Yeah," came the quiet but rather snobby voice of Pansy out of Layla's mouth.
Layla unlocked her door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Pansy stared back at her out of dull, almond eyes.
Ron's door opened. They stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Ron was indistinguishable from Crabbe, from the pudding-bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms.
"This is unbelievable," said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. "Unbelievable. "
"We'd better get going," said Harry, coming out of his own stool, looking identical to Goyle, of course. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow."
Ron, who had been gazing at Harry, said, "You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking." He 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, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you—"
"No — really — I don't think I'll come. You three hurry up, you're wasting time."
"'Mione, are you okay?" said Layla through the door.
"Fine — I'm fine — go on—"
"We'll meet you back here, all right?" Layla said.
Harry, Layla, and Ron opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear, and set off.
"Don't swing your arms like that," Harry muttered to Ron.
"Eh?"
"Crabbe holds them sort of stiff."
"How's this?"
"Yeah, that's better."
They went down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin that they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.
"Any ideas?" muttered Layla.
"The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there," said Ron, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a girl with long, curly hair emerged from the entrance.
"Excuse me," said Ron, hurrying up to her. "We've forgotten the way to our common room."
"I beg your pardon?" said the girl stiffly. "Our common room? I'm a Ravenclaw."
She walked away, looking suspiciously back at them.
Harry, Layla, and Ron hurried down the stone steps into the darkness. The passages were deserted. They walked deeper and deeper under the school, constantly checking their watches to see how much time they had left. After a quarter of an hour, just when they were getting desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.
"Ha!" said Ron excitedly. "There's one of them now!"
The figure was emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn't a Slytherin, 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," Layla pointed out.
"I, Parkinson," said Percy, drawing himself up, "am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me."
A voice suddenly echoed behind Harry, Layla, and Ron. Draco was strolling toward them, and for the first time in her life, Layla was pleased to see him.
"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny. I suppose you can join too, Parkinson, if you don't annoy me too much." Draco turned Layla, his eyes scanning her features quickly, before he gave her a small smirk and then glanced witheringly at Percy. "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?"
Percy looked outraged.
"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I don't like your attitude!"
Draco sneered and motioned for Harry, Layla, and Ron to follow him. Layla almost said something apologetic to Percy but caught herself just in time. She, Harry, and Ron hurried after Draco, who said as they turned into the next passage, "That Peter Weasley—"
"Percy," Ron corrected him automatically.
"Whatever," said Malfoy. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed."
He gave a short, derisive laugh. Harry, Layla, and Ron all exchanged excited looks. Draco paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.
"What's the new password again?" he said to Harry.
"Er —"
"Oh, yeah — pure-blood!" said Draco, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Draco marched through it, and Harry, Layla, and Ron followed him.
The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.
"Wait here," said Malfoy to Harry, Layla, and Ron, motioning them to a some empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it — my father's just sent it to me—"
Wondering what Draco was going to show them, Harry, Layla, and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home.
Draco came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose.
"That'll give you a laugh," he said.
Layla saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Layla.
It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet, and it said:
INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."
Mr Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.
"Well?" said Draco impatiently as Harry read the newspaper over Layla's shoulder. Layla handed the clipping back to Draco. "Don't you think it's funny?"
"Ha, ha," said Harry bleakly.
"Very funny, Drake," said Layla, letting out a giggle much like Pansy would do.
"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Draco scornfully. "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 Draco.
"Stomachache," Ron grunted.
"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Draco, 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. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. 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: "Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?"
"Good one, Drake," Layla left again, Pansy's high-pitched giggle hurting even her own years. She thought she was playing her role really well, unlike Harry and Ron.
Draco dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Ron.
"What's the matter with you two?"
Layla nudged Harry in the ribs, sending a 'play along' look to them. So, far too late, Harry and Ron forced themselves to laugh, but Draco seemed satisfied; perhaps Crabbe and Goyle were always slow on the uptake.
"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," said Draco slowly. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir!"
Layla balled her hands up in fist for the result about her best friend but tried to brush it off with much difficulty.
Draco was surely seconds away from telling them it was him.
"I wish I knew who it is," said Draco petulantly. "I could help them."
Ron's jaw dropped so that Crabbe looked even more clueless than usual. Fortunately, Draco didn't notice, and Layla, thinking fast, said, "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? I thought you hung up my every word," snapped Draco. "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, and 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 a matter of time before one of them's killed this time. I hope it's Granger," he said with relish.
Layla clenched Pansy's small fists even tighter, gritting her teeth. Feeling that it would be a bit of a giveaway if Layla, playing the role of someone who is literally head over heels for Draco, suddenly punched him, Harry shot her a warning look and said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"
"Oh, yeah... whoever it was was expelled," said Draco. "They're probably still in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?" said Harry, puzzled.
"Azkaban — the wizard prison, Goyle," said Draco, looking at him in disbelief. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward." He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week? Yeah. Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor—"
"Ho!" said Ron.
Draco looked at him. So did Layla and Harry. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening — their hour was up, Ron was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly giving both Layla Harry, they must be, too. That was why Layla got feel the Slytherin robes getting tighter on her body, practically suffocating her.
They all jumped to their feet.
"Medicine for my stomach," Ron grunted, and without further ado he and Harry sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room. Layla went to follow but Draco grabbed her wrist. She cursed under her breath. She didn't have the time.
"Go on then, I'll let you just this one. Show me the love, Parkinson," Draco smirked cockily, tapping his cheek. Layla tried not to cringe but it was hard. With much reluctance, she pressed a soft kiss to Draco's check before turning and hurrying after Harry and Ron.
"Great, now I need to sanitize my mouth!" said Layla with a repulsed groan as the three of them dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Draco hadn't noticed anything. Layla could her hands growing in size on either side of her, no longer belonging to the dainty and very small Pansy, and Layla had to rip off her tie which had tightened around her neck and was close to suffocating her.
They sprinted up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room."
Layla checked her face in the cracked mirror. She was back to normal. Ron hammered on the door of Hermione's stall.
"Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you—"
"Go away!" Hermione squeaked. The three others exchanged looks.
"'Mione, what's wrong?" spoke Layla gently. "Are you not back to normal yet?"
But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Layla had never seen Myrtle looking so happy.
"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's awful—"
They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.
"What's up?" said Ron uncertainly. "Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"
Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink. Layla's eyes simply widened in shock at Hermione's appearance.
Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.
"Oh, 'Mione..." Layla reached for Hermione's hand. "Please don't tell me you used cat hair..."
"It's true! 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!"
"Uh-oh," said Ron.
"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.
"Myrtle, not now," Layla scolded the ghost before turning back to Hermione. "It's okay, 'Mione. We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions."
It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw.
"Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"