( 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 )
viii. christmas tree lights
The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had once been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people the most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? People began to wonder what terrible power could harm someone already dead. Not even Matilda could fathom an answer... yet.
When the time had come for Holiday, there was almost a stampede to book their seats on the Hogwarts Express so that the students could go home for Christmas.
"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron had said, watching the students line outside the Great Hall, preparing to depart from the school – to run away from the dangers that lurk inside it.
Matilda rolled her eyes, "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy," she said enthusiastically. "What a jolly holiday it's going to be!"
The other students – her peers whispered with enthusiasm and Matilda watched them longingly, wishing that she had not agreed to stay behind for Holiday. She'd miss watching Christmas sitcoms with her dad. And snuggling with her mum on Christmas Eve night. She'd miss watching her youngest brother, Finn, opening his gifts and the homemade cookies, and the gingerbread house decorating that always caused an argument between her and Harper.
But, Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Draco did, had signed up to stay over holidays with him, as did the awe-struck pug-nose Pansy Parkinson. And Matilda had found another silver lining – an empty library. She wouldn't have to worry about the hushed whispers or giggling behind the endless rows of books. The room would be empty. Matilda would have it all to herself.
Other students still passed by them on their way to the Entrance Hall. One stopped, and a familiar, annoyed sigh sounded. Matilda turned, facing her older, and much taller, sister.
"You're absolutely sure you want to stay here for the holiday?" asked Harper, again, as she's been doing all week.
Matilda nodded, "Yeah," she lied. "I'm sure."
"Fine."
Harper looked at her little sister, knowing she was being lied to, but she decided to say nothing. Once Matilda had her mind set on something there was nothing nobody could do to change it. And, Harper wasn't going to risk missing the train to try and do so.
Matilda watched her sister descend the rest of the stairs and fall in line beside her friends, a smile quickly plastered on her face, and her eyes shone as soon as they landed upon Cedric Diggory. Matilda scrunched her nose up in disgust and turned away. Just in time to watch the doors open and slowly, students began to file outside in the cold.
Not Matilda though. She stayed right where she was. And she hated it.
The term had officially ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Matilda had come to find it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that she had full reign of the library and a room to herself. She barely ever saw anyone in the tower either. Only a few straggling students with the matching blue and bronze tie she wore passed her by on the stairs. And she'd noticed the Head Boy and Girl sitting in the common room late one evening. But that was it.
Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Covered tightly in a heavy duvet Matilda ignored the knocking coming from outside her door. She buried her head into her pillow. The knocking wasn't real. It couldn't be. Who would be trying to wake her on Christmas morning in the empty Ravenclaw Tower?
Whoever it was, wasn't giving up. The knocking didn't go away.
With a groan Matilda threw off her warm blankets, instantly greeted by the cold, winter air. She tiptoed across her bare wood floors and swung the door open, wrapping her goose-bump-covered arms around herself.
Hermione Granger stood in her doorway. Fully dressed and carrying a wrapped gift in her hands.
"Happy Christmas, Tilly," she smiled brightly.
Matilda furrowed her eyebrows, "Hermione?" her voice cracked, "What are doing? How did you even get up here?"
Hermione shrugged, "Professor Flitwick escorted me through after I told him I wanted to give you your gift..."
Suddenly Matilda's eyes dropped to the small box wrapped in a shiny gold wrapping paper that Hermione had been holding in her hands. It'd been adorned with white ribbon. She looked back up at Hermione, suddenly realizing that she hadn't thought to buy her anything.
She bit her lip, "Oh, Hermione, no," Matilda shook her head, refusing the gift, not because she didn't want it, but because she had nothing to give in return. "I can't accept that."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Good, because it isn't quite yours yet..."
Matilda looked at the curly-haired girl across from her, confused.
"You don't get it until we finish the potion."
"So, you're trying to bribe me?"
"If that's what you want to call it."
This only made Matilda want the bloody gift even more. She rolled her eyes and huffed, "Fine," she said. "Just let me get dressed."
She dressed rather quickly with Hermione standing just outside her door. Finding a knitted, turtleneck sweater in her wardrobe, Matilda pulled it over her head, she'd already put on a pair of her many black tights, anticipating needing them in the cold castle. And finally, she'd layered over everything a plaid, navy blue overall dress that fell to her knees. Despite having tights on already she rolled on a pair of thick white socks and buckled into her leather Mary Jane flats. She knew her hair was a mess, so she quickly brushed through it and braided it messily behind her head.
"About time," Hermione huffed, having found a place to sit on the floor in the hallway on the other side of the room door.
Matilda rolled her eyes and followed Hermione through the Ravenclaw dorms and out of the common room. She looked around, eyebrows furrowed.
"Where are the other two?" she asked, referring to Harry and Ron.
"Still asleep," said Hermione.
"So, why am I not?" asked Matilda.
Hermione again huffed, turning to face Matilda, "Because they not much help, especially when tired," she said. "Unfortunately, you're a genius no matter how early in the morning it is."
Matilda smiled. She knew Hermione was using flattery to get her way. But she still smiled. Because she knew, she is a genius.
They quietly found their way into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, careful not to disturb the whimpering, whiny ghost. Hermione and Matilda added more lacewings to the nearly finished potion and sat on the dusty bathroom floor for another hour, stirring the potion – making sure everything was perfect.
Together they looked into the cauldron. The two girls shrugged. There was nothing more they could do. The potion was finished.
Hermione sighed, a triumphant looking shining through her eyes, "I think we've done it."
"We did," nodded Matilda, feeling the same sense of pride as Hermione. "It's finished."
Somehow, they'd managed to pull off a Polyjuice Potion in just a couple of months. For just a few second-year wizards, this was practically unheard of, and also, very much against the rules. Still impressive, nonetheless.
"We should wake Harry and Ron," said Hermione suddenly.
Quickly she stood from the cold ground. Matilda followed, dusting herself off.
"We should enjoy our Christmas morning," Matilda countered.
And fortunately, Hermione nodded, the look on her face suggesting she had forgotten all about the holiday. Matilda understood, she too got lost in her studies and experiments, often forgetting what was around her at that moment.
"Right, yes, Christmas," Hermione reminded herself as they started up the long stairway. "That reminds me. Here."
Hermione turned, offering Matilda the small box she'd carried with her this morning. Wrapped in shiny gold paper and tied off with a white, silk bow to finish. Matilda took the gift, flipping the box in her hands before turning back to Hermione as the continued climbing the neverending stairs.
"You should know before I accept this, that I did not get you a gift," she told her.
And if Matilda were being completely honest, she'd have told Hermione that she hadn't even thought to get her anything.
But Hermione merely shrugged, "You don't give gifts in hopes of getting one in return."
Matilda furrowed her eyebrows, "Perhaps you don't."
Favors. Gifts. Knowledge. It was all meant to be traded. At least, that's what Matilda believed.
The two girls said very little for the remainder of their journey, and eventually parted ways, both going to their own tower.
It was warm in the Ravenclaw common room. The fire burned a brilliant orange and the tree standing tall at the forefront of the room filled the air with the scent of fresh pine. The tinsel draped over the exquisitely decorated tree beamed an array of light across the floor and circular rug as the sun's rays beamed in through the glass window, in which the heavy drapes have now been opened.
Presents were already littered beneath the tree. But forgotten wrapping paper and bows were left scattered on the floor. So some had already come down for their gifts and departed.
Becky Arncliffe, a fifth year, sat on the rug in the center of the room. Her legs were crossed and completely surrounded by stacks of new clothes, books, and other things she likely had just opened from her stack of gifts.
Matilda said nothing to her as she started for the tree and grabbed the first gift with her name scribbled along the attached tag.
Her father had sent her more books on charms and magical creatures that he knew she hasn't read yet and some roasted pumpkin seeds which were her favorite snack, her mom and step-dad sent her some new skirts and sweaters for the cold weather and new jacket, they had also sent her some lemon drops which happened to be Dumbledore's favorite candy. Luna sent her a lovely painting of a Puffskein, which Tilly had told her was her favorite creature as a child. Harper surprisingly sent her some candies, and she opened Hermione's gift last. It was a lovely red quill, that looked like it belonged to a Phoenix.
There were many gifts that came after...
Rueban, Matilda's father, had gotten her a bundle of new books she'd been telling him about and she assumed he thought she
Matilda's dad had gotten her plenty of books. Some she's been asking for, such as the "In-depth Guide to All Magical Creatures," and others he got her likely because he just thought she'd enjoy them, he'd even gotten her all the books on the history of all other Wizarding Schools. And she hadn't asked for that one. She smiled as she stacked the books high beside her. Of anyone, her dad had always known her best.
Among the cardboard-wrapped gifts from her dad, was a new, collapsible cauldron she'd been bugging him about since she first saw it while at Diagon Alley in August, a telescope, and another moon map.
Zara was always the intricate gift wrapper of the family. Matilda's gifts from her mum sit under the tree wrapped in reflective silver paper and tied neatly with sparkly, blue ribbons and tags addressed to Matilda, written in neat swirling letters.
Matilda's mum bought her clothes. New skirts, sweaters, and her Mary Jane shoes lay in piles around her as she continued ripping at the paper that would occasionally catch the sun and send a cascade of light darting across the round room. By the time she finished, she'd have an entirely new wardrobe, all from her mum.
The other gifts from her mum Matilda knew were likely picked by her step-dad David. He'd probably felt bad since he was not involved with shopping for her clothes. They'd gotten her a new globe of the moon so that she could study lunar movement and activity, new colorful cansticks and holders to go with them, and one she'd known about for a while now. a teacup and saucer set from Madam Puddifoot's rose collection. Matilda and her mum had ordered it last Spring; a limited edition, handmade set that Matilda was seeing for the first time. It was more than she had imagined. Matilda was giddy as she lifted a cup from the safety of its box. She was already looking forward to her next tea time. Dumbledore had always enjoyed seeing her extravagant teacups.
The rest of Matilda's gifts came mostly from her roommates. Padma got Matilda mood polish, a nail polish that changes color based on the wearer's mood, and a stack of pastel-colored parchment paper tied together with twine. Cho's gift was simple, sweets and treats, chocolates, sour candy, and pumpkin seeds all tied together in cute paper bags. Luna had gone with handmade gifts, a stone-beaded bracelet, and two, pink and purple, crotched pygmy puffs. Even Harper had gotten Matilda something for Christmas. Mostly snacks like sugar quills and pumpkin fizz filled the small gift bag, but Harper had also gotten her sister a compact two-way mirror and a variety pack of tea from Madam Puddlefoot's shop.
Matilda collected the collection of gifts she'd acquired and began carrying them back to her room. She hadn't realized just how much she had until it became apparent she would have to make multiple trips to carry all of her things. It was all piled high on her bed and Matilda stood before it, hands on her hips, wondering where she should start it putting it all away. Just as she reached for the clothes that had come from her mum, Matilda caught a glimpse of gold. A box wrapped neatly in gold paper. Hermione's gift to her. She'd forgotten all about it.
Sitting at the edge of her bed, in the one place where gifts didn't occupy, Matilda unraveled the bow and tore through the paper. It was a heavy box and when she opened it, Matilda gasped. From Hermione, she'd been expecting sweets or maybe a book. But she never would have suspected an entire quill set.
Placed perfectly secured in the box was a leather-bound journal, Matilda's name having been burned into it, inkwells, and the quill itself, a stunning midnight blue quill with spots of sky blue scattered among the smooth surface. Matilda recognized the feather. It had belonged to a Jobberknoll. One of her mom's favorite creatures. It is a blue-speckled bird that never made a sound until the moment before it died. It would then release a long scream, which consisted of every sound it ever heard backward. Zara had told Matilda Jobberknolls were incredibly useful creatures, their feathers used as potion ingredients in Truth Serums and Memory Potions.
There was a small part of Matilda after she had closed the box and placed Hermione's gift on her bedside table, wondering if she should accept it. She decided she'd think about it as she turned to the gifts still piled on her bed and began sorting through them.
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 carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed, making Professor Flitwick cringe at the sound.
When everyone finally sat to enjoy their Christmas Day feast, Matilda moved away from her table and made her way down the long isles, toward the front of the room. She ignored the questioning looks from the few remaining students and kept her shoulders pulled back as she stopped before the table at the head of the room. She stood right before the Headmaster.
Dumbledore looked down at her from over the table, "Happy Christmas, Miss Winters," he said, smiling. "What can I help you with?"
From behind her back, Matilda brought a small wrapped gift box filled with bags of tea leaves. The teas were all assortments of lemon tea, green tea with lemon, lemon ginger tea, lemon mint tea, and lemon hibiscus tea. She knew that Dumbledore liked lemons and lemon candies, so she wrote to her father, asking him to send her these teas, knowing she'd be gifting them to Professor Dumbledore for Christmas.
"Oh, I don't need any help," Matilda shook her head as she placed the box of tea leaves before him on the table. "I just wanted to give you this."
Dumbledore took the box and looked over the bags of tea leaves. The other Professors paid him no mind. Only Hagrid was eager to see what was inside the box. When he noticed the pattern among the flavors he smiled and looked back down to where Matilda stood.
"What a thoughtful gift, Miss Winters," he said, eyes dancing with amusement. "But tell me, how did you know my favorite flavor is lemon?"
Matilda shrugged, "I'm observant."
At that, he nodded, "That you are... that you are, Matilda Winters."
Matilda rarely gave gifts to anyone but her family. But this year had been different. She'd bought for her roommates and her few favorite professors, all because of the insistence from her mum who claimed it'd be a nice thing for Matilda to do.
So, she bought Luna a guidebook on all magical creatures in North America. For Padma, Matilda bought a bracelet with many kinds of charms, such as her astrological sign, a rose quartz since her favorite color is pink, and a nail polish charm because she's always painting her nails. Cho was the easiest, Matilda bought a Holyhead Harpies poster since that's the team Cho drones on and on about in the rooms, even though no one is listening to her.
And while deciding on gifts for her roommates, Matilda thought to buy something for her favorite professors. All of them got tea from Madam Puddlefoot's tea shop.
Dumbledore thanked Matilda again for the tea leaves and she turned back to find her seat, stomach growling hungrily.
Just as she was dishing herself a third helping of Christmas pudding, Hermione, Ron, and Harry approached her nearly empty table. She looked up at them and sighed, dropping her spoon. It was time to finalize their plans for the evening.
"Can I at least finish my cake?" Matilda asked.
Unfortunately, she couldn't. And they were quickly departing from the Great Hall.
"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she were sending them to the market for milk and eggs. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something from Crabbe and Goyle; they're closest to Malfoy, and he'll tell them anything. 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 went on smoothly, ignoring Harry's and Ron's stupefied faces. 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. 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."
"You're drugging them?" Matilda asked.
She wasn't disapproving. Nor was she approving. Just asking, is all.
"Better idea?" Hermione turned to Matilda.
"A few."
"Any that won't kill or maim them?" Harry's voice cut in.
Matilda rolled her eyes, "Buzzkill..."
Hermione took in a deep breath, trying to get back on track, "Okay, any questions?"
Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.
"Hermione, I don't think —"
"That could go seriously wrong —"
But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes
had.
"Hey, listen up you two chickens! The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," Matilda told them sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you? Because if not, that means I wasted my time here. I don't like when people waste my time."
"Hey, you two scaredy-cats best get yourselves together because the potion will be useless without that hair!" Matilda told them, a finger waving in their faces. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you? This is how we're going to do it."
"Oh, all right, all right," said Harry. "But what about you? Whose hair are the two of you ripping out?"
"I've already got mine!" 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."
"And you?" Ron faced Matilda.
"Pansy Parkinson's hairbrush should work quite well, no?" she smiled, holding the shiny, golden, and quite dramatic hairbrush up like a trophy. "I've also made sure that Pansy finds herself a bit... tied up as well, so, I shouldn't have to worry about her making an appearance for quite some time."
Harry and Ron shared nervous glances while Hermione's eyes widened to the size of quarters.
"How did you get that hairbrush? And what do you mean, tied up?" Hermione took a deep, calming breath. "Where is Pansy, Matilda?"
Matilda shrugged, "Oh, don't cause such a tizzy," she rolled her eyes. "Pansy is still alive and well. No need to worry. Let's just get on with all this."
When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Ron turned to Harry
with a doom-laden expression, and then to Matilda.
"Did you actually tie Pansy Parkinson up somewhere?" he asked with a gulp.
"I'm not good with knots, Weasley," she sighed, walking past him, following Hermione to the potion.
Matilda's lips turned upward when she passed him and Harry. She might not have been great at tying knots, but perhaps someone with the last name might have proved to be useful to her after all. Everyone had a price. For all it'd taken for Tracey Davis to steal Pansy Parkinson's hairbrush and a set of her robes was a stack of muggle gossip columns and 2 Galleons. Other people had different forms of repayment in mind, such as letting them copy her transfiguration notes and teaching them the spell she'd accidentally cast on them at the first official Dueling Club meeting.
It took less amount of time for Harry and Ron to complete their task than Matilda had expected it to. Though, by the time they did return to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom the thick black smoke had nearly filled the entire place. It rose from the stall in which Hermione and Matilda took turns stirring the cauldron with their robes pulled up over their faces.
"What is going on?" they asked.
Harry and Ron walked into the stall. They looked at the cauldron that Matilda stirred and back to where Hermione had already prepared the four glass tumblers and 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. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle."
The three of them crowded around Matilda and stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.
"Are we sure that's what it's supposed to look like?" asked Ron in a hesitant tone.
"Unfortunately," said Matilda, wearing the same look of disgust as the others. "We've done everything right. And it looks like the book says it should."
Hermione nodded, "Once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we begin changing back into ourselves."
"Now what?" Ron whispered.
"We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs," said Matilda, stepping aside to let Hermione take over once more.
Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling,
she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass. Matilda followed suit, plucking a dark strand of hair from Pansy's stolen hairbrush.
The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a faded – almost cloudy green. As if the color was wearing, or fading out.
"Urgh — essence of Millicent Bulstrode," Ron's voice brought Matilda from her thoughts, and she turned to where they all looked at the sickly yellow liquid in Hermione's glass. "Bet it tastes disgusting."
Harry dropped Goyle's hair into the middle glass and Ron put Crabbe's into the last one. Both
glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown.
"Not yet," said Matilda quickly as Ron and Harry reached for their glasses. "It'd be best if we not all drink them in here... once the three of you turn into Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent, we won't fit..."
She imagined herself being crushed by the hulking bodies and cringed at the lack of personal space.
"Good thinking," said Ron, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate stalls."
Careful not to spill a drop of her Polyjuice Potion, Matilda slipped into the end stall.
"Ready?" Harry called from the middle.
"Ready," echoed across the bathroom.
"One — two — three —"
Matilda's heart pounded inside her chest as she reached up to pinch her nose. She drank the potion in two gulps and nearly barfed it all up a second later. It tasted like old overcooked and oversalted cabbage.
Immediately, her insides started writhing as though she'd just swallowed a hive of bumblebees — doubled over, 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 falling back into the door, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over her body bubbled like hot wax — and before her eyes, her shortened, the pigment that had once been painted over nails disappeared — her arms stretched painfully and prickling on her forehead told her bangs were growing longer — her knees were agony as her legs stretched taller and feet expanding. Her nose tickled, and when she reached to touch it, no more was the button that had been at the center of her face, but now an upturned, snout-like nose.
As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Matilda sat with her knees pulled up on the stone-cold floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, she kicked off her shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Pansy Parkinson. Her hand trembling, she reached for her hair and met it all the way above her shoulders and her bangs tickled her eyelashes from how long they were now.
Then he realized that his glasses were clouding his
"Is everyone okay?" Matilda's eyes widened as Goyle's low rasp of a voice issued from the middle stall.
Harry, she thought. It was only Harry.
"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Crabbe from her right.
She knew that it was only Ron responding, but the voice still didn't sit right with her.
Matilda brought the hand that didn't belong to her up to her throat as she cleared it, "Also alive..."
It felt unnatural coming out of her mouth. The voice had come from her but it didn't belong to her. Her brain had to take a second to register that Pansy Parkinson was not right behind Matilda, speaking into her ear. For an hour, this voice was now hers too. And she hated it.
Matilda unlocked her door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. There was Pansy staring back at her. Her pug nose and all. Matilda wanted to scream. To close her eyes only to open them and find she was herself again. The 60 minutes couldn't pass fast enough now.
Goyle appeared in the mirror behind her, and she spun around, eyes wide, and feeling slightly revolted.
He looked into the mirror. Harry scratched his ear. So did Goyle.
Ron's door opened. They all stared at each other. Ron was indistinguishable from Crabbe, from the pudding-bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms. Though his face has lost most of its color.
"This is unbelievable," said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. "Unbelievable."
Matilda cringed – or was it, Pansy? "We have all certainly seen better days."
"We'd better get going," said Harry, loosening the watch on Goyle's thick wrist. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow..."
"No need. I know exactly where to go," said Matilda.
Ron, who had been gazing at Harry and Matilda, said, "You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking and Pansy knowing the answer to something." 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."
Ron rolled his eyes, "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. The three of you hurry up, you're wasting time—"
"Hermione, it is far too late for you to back out now," said Matilda, cringing as Pansy Parkinson's voice came from her. "We have spent months on this bloody potion!"
When Hermione refused an answer, Harry looked at Matilda, bewildered.
"Wow, uncanny," Matilda shook her head. "Keep that look and no one will ever know you aren't Goyle."
Ron laughed, "That's how he looks every time a teacher asks him a question."
"Hermione, are you okay?" said Harry through the door.
"Fine—I'm fine—go on—"
Matilda looked at the watch on Harry's wrist. Five of their precious sixty minutes have already flown by.
"We have to go. Now," she whispered.
Harry nodded, "We'll meet you back here, all right?"
Matilda practically pushed Harry and Ron out of the bathroom door, checking that the coast was clear, and she led the way toward the school's dungeons.
"Stop swinging your arms like that, Ron," Matilda said bossily. Ron looked at her with his eyebrows raised, confusion masking his expression. "Crabbe is as stiff as a cinderblock. You're too... loose..."
Ron stopped swinging his arms and tightened his shoulders so that they were pulled up near his ears.
"How's this?"
Definitely wasn't perfect...
"It's not terrible," said Matilda.
They went down the marble staircase. As they neared the dungeon Matilda hoped they might be lucky enough to run into a Slytherin that they could get the password from, but it seemed as though no one was around.
"How do you know where the Slytherin common room is?" muttered Harry.
"I studied the layouts," Matilda told him as if it was something that every student here does. "I pay attention... Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there," she said, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons.
She also remembered all the stories from her dad. Recounting his days as a student at Hogwarts, he lived in the dungeons with the other Slytherin students. He'd described the common room to her and Harper a dozen times. So she was expecting a lot of green and a lot of velvet.
Ron had opened his mouth to say something when a girl with long, curly hair emerged from the entrance, taking his ability to speak.
Matilda knew this girl. A Ravenclaw. Penelope Clearwater, a Prefect. She was nice... sometimes.
"Excuse me," said Ron, hurrying up to her. "We've forgotten the password 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.
Matilda grabbed Ron's arm, yanking him back to where she and Harry stood, "You dunce," she flicked his forehead. "Can you just keep your mouth shut, please?"
They hurried down the stone steps into the darkness, their footsteps echoing particularly loudly as Crabbe and Goyle's huge feet and Matilda's heels hit the floor, feeling that this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped.
The labyrinthine 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!"
"Could you be sure this time?" Matilda rolled her eyes.
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?"
Ron's eyes widened in sudden realization. He'd forgotten he was supposed to be Crabbe.
"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," said Matilda.
"I," said Percy, drawing himself up, "am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me."
Matilda furrowed her eyebrows, a taunting grin playing at her lips, "Oh yeah?" she asked him. "Says who?"
A voice suddenly echoed behind them. Draco Malfoy was strolling toward them, Daisy Morgenstern close behind, and for the first time in her life, Matilda was relieved to see them.
"There the two of you are," he glanced at Pansy, his eyebrows furrowing as if surprised to see her with Crabbe and Goyle. "Crabbe, Goyle, have the two of you been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny."
Matilda sucked in a deep breath, swallowing the vomit creeping up her throat, "And me too, right Draco?"
She had to force a gag to stay down.
He shrugged, "Sure."
Matilda could have sworn that she watched the blonde Morgenstern girl roll her eyes.
Draco 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. "I don't like your attitude!"
Malfoy sneered and motioned for Harry, Matilda, and Ron to follow himThey followed after him, who said as they turned into the next passage, "That Peter Weasley—"
"Percy," Ron corrected him automatically.
Matilda kicked the back of his shin. He fell forward slightly, bumping right into Daisy.
"Whatever," said Malfoy, glaring slightly at Ron. "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 and Ron exchanged excited looks.
Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.
"What's the new password again?" he said to Harry.
"Er—" said Harry.
"Oh, yeah—pure blood!" said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and they followed him.
The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and a 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, motioning them to a part of the empty room set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it—my father's just sent it to me—"
Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, the three of them sat down, doing their best to look at home.
Malfoy 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.
Matilda saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and Matilda stole it from his hands.
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 Malfoy impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"
Matilda glanced at Ron, he sat stiff, not saying a word as his fat cheeks reddened.
Quickly, she turned back to Draco, forcing a sadistic smile, "Serves the blood traitor right," Matilda elbowed Harry in the arm, "Isn't that right, Goyle?"
"Yeah. It does," he said bleakly.
"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, the way they behave."
"Draco. Stop it," Daisy Morgenstern had sat on the couch opposite them, she didn't seem to find the paper at all funny, or her friend's antics.
Ron's—or rather, Crabbe's—face was contorted with fury.
"What's up with you, Crabbe?" snapped Malfoy.
"Stomachache," 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. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Fathers always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never let slime like that Creevey in."
"You're wrong."
The words were out of her mouth before she'd even been able to register them.
Draco turned to face her slowly, his eyebrows creased, "What did you say Pansy?" he asked her, Daisy watched from behind him, seeming confused as well, looking at Matilda. "You believe I'm wrong? Dumbledore isn't the worst thing to happen to this school? Then tell me, what is?"
"Harry Potter is," said Goyle rather quickly, glancing down at Matilda.
She let out a breath, relieved.
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?'"
He dropped his hands and looked at them.
"What's the matter with you three?"
Far too late, they forced themselves to laugh, but Malfoy seemed satisfied; perhaps Crabbe and Goyle were always slow on the uptake and Matilda knew even if Pansy hated Draco's jokes if he wanted her to laugh, she would.
"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," said Malfoy 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!"
Matilda waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was him, or that he knew who it was—but then "I wish I knew who it is," said Malfoy petulantly. "I could help them."
From behind him, Daisy Morgenstern was left snickering at his proclamation, "You? Help the heir of Slytherin?" she shook her head. "Have you forgotten what happened when the snake nest hatched last summer on my land?"
She wanted to laugh, but Pansy would not have done such a thing, instead, she sneered at Daisy, arms crossed over her chest, before turning and batting her eyelashes at Draco, making her stomach churn.
"You must have some idea who it is though," she said, voice sickly sweet.
"You know I haven't, Pansy, how many times do I have to tell you?" 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.
"That's mean," Daisy warned him.
Matilda itched to grab her wand upon hearing the hateful words Draco used against Hermione. But she didn't move, knowing it would be a dead giveaway if Matilda shot a curse at Draco.
Harry must've noticed this because he jumped up and said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"
"Oh, yeah... whoever it was expelled," said Draco. "They're probably still in Azkaban."
Azkaban?" said Harry, puzzled.
"Azkaban — the wizard prison..." said Matilda, looking at Harry in annoyance, shaking her head, "Honestly, just how slow are you?"
Daisy laughed. Matilda smiled as well, leaning back into the velvet couch comfortably.
"Jeez Pansy, ease up a bit, yeah?" Draco told her, but she could see the humor in his eyes. "We know Goyle's never been known for his brains."
She only shrugged.
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?"
"Really? Why?" Matilda couldn't contain her enthusiasm when she sat up straighter.
"Yeah..." said Malfoy. "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—"
Draco scowled, "Try not to sound too excited, would you?" he scoffed before turning away from her. "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—"
Matilda bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning too hard. To learn so much potentially valuable information from the sources mouth themselves. It excited her.
"Ho!" said Ron.
Malfoy looked at him. So did Harry and Matilda. 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 Harry and herself, they must be, too.
They all jumped to their feet.
"Oh! Medicine!" quipped Matilda, trying to mimic Pansy's voice as best she could since it was slipping away. "For your stomach, Crabbe!"
Ron grunted, nodding his head.
Quickly, they ran the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything. Matilda could feel herself changing back into herself, and it was just as painful as it was the first time. Harry and Ron tore out of their robes and crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall. Matilda stopped, waiting for them as they left their shoes beside a closet door containing muffled pounding. It'd been where they left Crabbe and Goyle. When they finished they sprinted the rest of the way up the marble staircase, Harry and Ron in their socks, 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."
Harry checked his face in the cracked mirror. He was back to normal. He put his glasses on as
Ron hammered on the door of Hermione's stall.
Matilda checked her face in the cracked mirror. She had gone back to normal. A breath of relief escaped her as she was glad not to be Pansy Parkinson anymore.
As Harry put on his glasses Ron pounded on Hermione's stall door, "Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you —"
"Go away!" Hermione squeaked.
They all shared a glance.
"Hermione, what's the matter?"
"Oh, come on, Hermione," said Matilda, walking up to stand beside the stall door. "You must have gone back to normal by now, we have."
But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Matilda had never seen her 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.
Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned 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!"
Matilda had not only brought a hand up to suppress her astonished gasp, but a light giggle as well.
"Uh-oh," said Ron.
"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.
"Don't listen to Myrtle!" Matilda rolled her eyes. "She's lived in a bathroom for nearly 50 years, what would she know?"
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry quickly. "We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam
Pomfrey never asks too many questions..."
It took a long time for them to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped past them on their way with a hearty guffaw. "What till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"
A silver light cascaded across the dark circular room. It was late. By now everyone had gone to bed, exhausted from the holiday festivities. The smell of pine was strong and the lights around the tall tree twinkled. Matilda lay on the lounge listening to the crackles of the warm fire in front of her.
She hadn't been able to sleep and so now she lay on the velvet couch writing a thank you to everyone from whom she received a gift. Already she wrote to her family, they'd been first, now she worked on her thank you to Padma, hoping to keep it short and brief. There was no need to get sentimental.
Matilda turned away from her parchment. In the final moments of Christmas, she watched the flickering tree and counted the seconds before the soft golden lights would illuminate the corner again. She watched the lights catch the shiny bulbs and send blue light reflecting onto the walls and ceiling around it. Small blue light catching from floor to ceiling.
And then it caught her eye. A small box hidden toward the back of the tree, tucked into the corner of the wall where the lights didn't quite shine.
Curious, Matilda stood, abandoning her quill and parchment, and walked toward the tree. To reach the box she had to stretch, nearly laying halfway under the tree before she finally felt her fingers brush the cheap, damp paper. She crawled out from the tree, sitting up and smoothing out her hair, careful to get out any pine that might have fallen on her. She looked at the small box wrapped in her hands. It had been wrapped messily. A kid's wrapping it seemed. And in old newspapers nonetheless. The ink was runny and the paper near crumpling from having been in some kind of water. But she still recognized her nice, written in thin scrawly writing on a tag attached. The gift had been for her. One that she must have missed even though she was sure she'd gotten everything earlier that morning.
Matilda looked around her, not knowing why she was suddenly nervous about being seen, and unwrapped the paper. The pieces fell into a wet pile beside her knee. The box had been made of cardboard and seemed to have been mostly spared from whatever had ruined the paper hiding it besides just a spot or two. Carefully, she opened the box, at first thinking it was empty and this had been some kind of joke until the golden lights on the tree flashed again and caught the light of something inside. Turning, the box upside down, Matilda held out a hand and allowed a small ring to fall into the center of her palm.
It was a gold black diamond and moon ring that fell into her hand. It was so small. And old. She could tell by the thinning of the band and the diamonds needed a desperate cleaning. It wasn't new, that was evident. She'd gotten a re-gift. But from who, she didn't know. She'd looked all over the wet paper and the box for a name or any kind of tell of who might have left her this confusing gift, but there was nothing. Only her name and the ruined paper.
"Who are you from? And who did you belong to?" Matilda slipped on the ring, admiring how it somehow sat on her finger as if it was always meant to be there.
The lights on the tree blinked again and Matilda's hand had shown a wonderful gold.
ϟ
( 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗮'𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀 )
and a link to see some of Matilda's gifts: https://pin.it/1R8iXEc
ϟ
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆
I'm loving the little friendship forming between Hermione and Matilda.
And who sent Matilda the gift?
This chapter has been edited. You can tell if a chapter has been edited by looking at the title font (it'll look like this one) or at the end of every chapter, it'll have a stamp of the date it's been edited.
&
As always, I ask that you leave comments on how you liked this chapter here. Comment all of your thoughts and theories here. Let me know your opinions on characters and views on characterization. Are we hating or liking Matilda? Any ideas on her role yet? I'm excited to read about all of your thoughts.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝟔/𝟐𝟓/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑