For the next few days, Mrs Norris's attack was all people could talk about. Ginny was one of the most affected. Ron said she was very fond of cats, and animals in general, so she took anything bad about them quite hard.

“She was a pain in the neck, Ginny,” Ron tried to comfort her. “And besides, she'll be fine. Dumbledore said we would be able to cure her, remember? Think of it a magic-induced nap.”

As for Hermione, who already spent a lot of her time in books, she now did virtually nothing else any more. And she never answered when they asked what she was looking for, or else very snappily. Finally, a few days later, they got an answer. But not before Megan experienced an unpleasant event. She had a lot of homework that day (she suspected the teachers were trying to avoid the students gossiping about the incident), and was on her way to the library. As she approached it, she saw Justin Finch-Fletchley. But, as she was about to say hello, he stopped and bolted back the other way. Unsettled, and hurt, she pressed on to the library.

“Nope, still a few inches short.” Harry said, handing a parchment to Ron.

They had been asked a ninety inch essay.

“How does Hermione do it? She's done a hundred and forty inches, and her writing's tiny!” Ron complained.

“She goes into detail more than you do,” Megan said.

“Oh, there you are,” Harry said as she arrived. “Hermione'll be around soon, I think. You all right?” he asked, seeing Megan's expression.

She sat down and told them about Justin fleeing before her.

“Well, I always thought he was a bit dim.” Ron said. “He was defending Lockhart, when we met him, remember?”

Megan said nothing. Hermione came in at that moment. She looked displeased but incline to speak with them.

“All the copies of Hogwarts a History have been borrowed,” she said angrily. “Megan, you wouldn't have your copy, by chance, would you?”

“I left it at the Dursleys,” she apologised. “I didn't know I'd need it...”

“I wish I had taken mine, but with Lockhart's books, there was just no room.”

“I know, I had the same problem...” Megan said. “Those books are enormous... and useless, if they're anything like his teaching methods...”

 She hadn't opened one of them since she'd gotten them.

 “Why did you want it?” Harry asked.

 “To look up the Chamber of Secrets in it, of course!”

 “What is it, then?”

 “That's the problem, I can't remember. And none on the other books I read had anything about it.”

“Hermione, can I borrow your History of Magic essay?”

“No! You had a week and a half!”

“I'm only a few inches short, go on!”

“Here, Ron, you can have mine.” Megan said.

Hermione looked about to criticise, but Megan said:

“Don't worry. It'll stick in his head if he reads and writes something correct.”

Later, in Transfiguration, they were working on changing a glass of water to wine. But so far, apart from Hermione and Megan, little had succeeded.

 “Professor...?” Hermione said suddenly.

 “Yes, miss Granger?”

“I was wondering if you could... tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?”

She hesitated a little.

“Very well. As you know, our school was founded over a thousand years ago by the four people who gave their names to our houses. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. These were, and still are to this day, considered some of the greatest wizards of the age. They built this castle away from Muggle eyes, and worked together harmoniously. However, after a time, Slytherin and others saw things differently. Can anyone guess on which point?”

Megan raised a finger to her lips, thinking.

“Yes, Miss Potter?”

“Uh... well... I suppose that Slytherin wanted all the students to be pure bloods, and the others didn't think that was fair?” she said.

“That's right,” McGonagall said. “Now, as you can probably imagine, the main conflict opposed Gryffindor, a model of fairness, and courage, and Slytherin, a firm believer in selectivity and pugnacity. And eventually, Slytherin left.”

She paused a moment.

“Now, according to legend, before leaving, Slytherin created a chamber in the school that only he knew the location of and how to enter.”

“What exactly was in that chamber, professor?” Harry asked.

“Well, it is believed that the chamber was home to a creature only the heir of Slytherin can control. It is said to be... a monster, destined to hunt and destroy those deemed unworthy to study magic.”

“Muggle borns,” Megan said, glancing at Hermione.

McGonagall nodded.

“However, the school has been searched many times, over the past decades, as you can imagine, and no such chamber has yet been found.”

“Always said Slytherin was a twisted old sick bloke,” Ron said as they made their way to dinner that evening, “But I didn't know he'd made up that pure-blood rule. I wouldn't go to Slytherin if you paid me for it. And if the Sorting Hat had wanted to send me there, I'd have gotten back on the train straight home.”

Hermione nodded. Megan looked away nervously. She had never told them the hat had almost put her in Slytherin, and she had never understood why. She could still remember every agonising second of her Sorting, and the words whispered in her ear.

Hm... now this is difficult, very difficult... a heart full of strength and courage... a bright mind, too, I see... and talent, oh, yes, much talent. And a wish to be accepted... But where to put you...?

She had vigorously resented the idea of Slytherin, to which the hat had answered:

Are you sure? You could be extraordinary, they could help you to greatness! No? Very well, then... Oh, yes, I think I see where you'd be best placed... Gryffindor!

“Everything okay, Megan?”

“What? Oh... yeah. I'm just-”

“Hi, Megan!”

“Hi, Colin,” she sighed.

“There's a guy in my class who sai-”

But the sea of students was too strong for the tiny first-year.

“Later, Megan!”

“Sure,” she muttered. “Much later. Like for my funeral.”

“What could he have been told about you?” Hermione wondered aloud.

“That someone told him I'm Slytherin's heir, probably,” she said dully, her stomach twisting at the memory of Justin running away from her.

“People will believe anything...” Ron muttered bitterly.

They managed to cross the wave of students more easily now.

“D'you reckon there really is a Chamber of Secrets?” Harry asked them.

“I don't know,” Megan answered. “But Dumbledore wasn't able to cure Mrs Norris... Which gets me thinking that whatever did that to her... wasn't human.”

It was then she realised they were just outside the corridor where the attacked had occurred. The bloody message was still there, glistening as ever. They looked at each other. It was deserted. Filch was probably trying to have news on Mrs Norris.

“Won't hurt to have a look around.” Harry said with a shrug.

They stepped inside and looked around.

“Are those burn marks? Here... and more here...”

“Look!” Hermione said.

She was pointing to the floor, where several spiders were fighting to get up the wall and through the crack in the window.

 “Have any of you ever seen spiders act like that?” Hermione asked in a low voice.

“Never,” Megan said. “How about you, Ron? Ron?”

They looked around. Ron was standing as far away as the wall would let him.

“What is it?"

“Don't... like spiders...” he said.

“But we use spiders all the time in Potions,” Hermione remarked. “You never said anything about that.”

“It's one thing when they're dead,” he said. “I don't like the way they move.”

Hermione repressed a laugh.

“It's not funny! Fred turned my bear into a spider when I was three. You wouldn't like your toy to become a wriggly ugly spider.” he defended himself.

Megan thought it was best to change the subject.

“Hey, do you remember that large puddle that was on the floor that night?” she asked. “It must have been cleaned up, but I wonder where it was coming from...”

“It was about there,” Harry said while Ron regained his composure. “By that door.”

Ron made to open it, but stopped.

“It's a girls' bathroom.” He said. “We'll wait here."

“Oh, it's empty,” Hermione said, stepping forwards. “It's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Come on, let's have a look."

She ignored the “Out Of Order” notice and entered.

This bathroom was definitely not often used. The place was dark and murky. The sinks all had cracks in them, a large mirror stood broken above them. The only light was small remains of candles floating around the room, and the cubicle doors were peeled off in places, one hanging on only one hinge. Hermione indicated the boys to be silent before heading for the last cubicle on the right and saying:

“Hello, Myrtle, how are you?”

Megan stepped forwards alongside her as she opened the door. Myrtle was floating cross-legged above the cubicle, looking grumpy.

“This is a girls' toilet,” she said moodily. “They're not girls.”

 She was pointing to Harry and Ron who had peered in behind them.

“Ask her if she saw something,” Harry whispered.

“What are you whispering?” Myrtle asked suspiciously.

“He just wondered i-” Megan began.

 “I may be dead, but I still have feelings, you know!” she snapped.

“No one meant to upset you,” Megan said quickly. “Harry just wanted to know-”

 “No one meant to upset me? That's a good one!” Myrtle pined. “My life was nothing but misery, and now people come ruining my death!”

 “We wanted to know if you'd noticed anything strange, lately.” Hermione asked. “The caretaker's cat was attacked outside your door on Halloween.”

 “I didn't pay attention,” she said, more calmly. “Peeves had been picking on me all evening and I had come in here to try and kill myself when... I remembered I didn't need to...!”

 She let out a wail and dived into the cubicle.

 They exchanged a look.

“She was comparatively calm, this time,” Hermione said.

They went back out into the hall.

 “RON!”

 They froze. Percy, Ron's Prefect sixth year brother strode towards them.

 “That is a girls' bathroom!” he said. “What in Merlin's beard where you doing in there?”

“We were just looking for clues...” he said.

 “Away with you,” Percy said, ushering them away. “Coming back to the scene of the attack...!”

 “And why couldn't we?” Ron said angrily, turning around and glaring at his brother. “We didn't touch that stupid cat!”

 “That's what I've been telling Ginny,” Percy said crossly. “But I've never seen her more upset! You ought to think of others, Ronald!”

 “You're just worried it'll hurt your chances at Head Boy,” Ron said grumpily.

 “Five points from Gryffindor!” Percy snapped. “Now stop playing detective or I'll write to Mum.”

 And he marched off.

That evening, Ron was still furious and kept staining his Charms essay. When he accidentally set fire to it when he tried to clean them off with his wand, he snapped his books shut angrily. To everyone's surprise, Hermione did the same.“I wonder who would want to send Squibs and Muggle-borns out of the school...”

 “Yeah, there's a mystery,” Ron said. “Who do we know who thinks all Muggle-borns are scum?”

 “If you're talking about Malfoy...”

 “Of course I am! You heard him! 'You'll be next, mudbloods'!”

 “We all heard him, he made sure of that...” Harry said.

 “But Malfoy, the heir of Slytherin?” Hermione asked, sceptically.

 “Think about it, Hermione,” Harry said. “Malfoy's always going on about how he's from a great wiarding family, and all of them were in Slytherin, or most of them at least. And his father definitely is evil enough to do it.”

 “Maybe they even have the key to the Chamber!” Ron said. “Handing it down from father to son, or something.”

 “Maybe...” Hermione said, still dubious.

 “But even if it's true, which we don't know yet,” Megan said, “How do we prove it?”

 Hermione glanced around to check no one was listening. She signalled the others to lean in and lowered her voice.

 “There may be a way. But it's difficult and dangerous. Not to mention we'll be breaking half the school rulebook.”

 “What are you thinking of?” Harry asked.

 “Well, what we need is to get in the Slytherin common room, right? But of course Malfoy mustn't know it's us.”

 “That's not possible,” Harry said. “We'd need their password and none of them would give it to us.”

 “It is,” Hermione said. “We just need Polyjuice Potion.”

 “Polywhat?”

 “It's a potion that turns you into someone else,” Megan said. “Snape said something about it a few weeks ago.”

 “That would enable us to become Slytherins, and we'd get all the answers we need!” Hermione said. “But the recipe isn't easy to find. Snape said it was in Potions of Great Power, but that's in the restricted section and we need a note signed by a teacher to get it.”

 “Yeah, but how are going to get them to believe we're not planning on making the potion?”

“Just say we want to know the theory.” Hermione said.

 “And I know just the teacher to ask,” Megan said, with a smile.

Megan didn't like Lockhart much, but she knew he was the only one dumb enough to give her what she needed. She would just need to flatter his ego slightly and he would be in her pocket. After the pixie episode, he didn't bring any more creatures to class, confining himself to reading parts of his books, playing the “interesting parts”, for which Megan was often his partner. Usually, she hated this, but this time she played her part to its fullest, with quite some talent.

“And that's how I freed a village from a werewolf,” Lockhart said, as Megan got to her feet. “Homework next week, a poem on today's story.”

The bell finally rung and Megan winked at the others, staying behind. She turned to the desk and ordered herself to be polite and smile.

 “Professor Lockhart, sir?”

He looked up.

 “Ah, Megan, excellent performance!” he said brightly. “Something the matter?”

 “No, sir,” she said. “I was just wondering... you see I've been dying to try and be like you, and I thought maybe this book could help. But I need the signed permission of a teacher... I think it would help me understand your work better.”

Bingo; he ruffled his jacket importantly.

 “Why, I'm sure no one would mind me allowing one of the brightest pupils in the school to increase her knowledge!” he said, taking a large peacock quill. “Oh, that reminds me. Tomorrow's the first Quidditch game of the season, isn't it?”

 “Yes, sir,” she said.

 “I was quite the player in my day,” he said. “I was offered a position for the national team but duty called...”

Megan forced her smile to stay put on her face. But the next blow was the worse.

“I would be more than happy to tutor a beginner...”

 Beginner! I won my very first match and every other match I played in! Megan growled internally. But to Lockhart, she just said;

 “Oh, but I'm not really a beginner. I was on the team last year. But thank you. Well, I must go, bye, professor!”

 And she hurried off before she lost her temper.

“That was easy!”

 “Speak for yourself, I'm not doing it again in a hurry.” Megan said. “But he did give in easily.”

 “Well, there was no reason for him not to believe you,” Hermione said.

 “I think his ego was more helpful than anything else,” Megan said.

"And he's a A-class idiot,” Harry said. “Calling you a beginner in Quidditch...”

“I read Quidditch through the Ages dozens of times and I've never seen his name,” she added. “If he was in the team, I'll eat dung.”

They reached the Library. The librarian, however, was less gullible than Lockhart.

“Potions of Great Power?” Madam Pince read suspiciously.

“It's for a Potions Essay,” Megan said. “It's due Monday and we don't have Potions before then,” she said.

Given it was Friday, there was no reason to believe they were lying.

“Very well...”

She soon returned with the book, which Hermione tucked carefully in her bag. Then, they left as calmly as they could.

“Now, what? We can't go to the common room.”

“Moaning Myrtle's bathroom,” Hermione said. “No one goes there. Best place to break the rules.” she added.

So there they were, locked in the haunted toilet. Ron hadn't been able to counter Hermione's arguments that no one would look for them there. Myrtle was crying somewhere nearby but both parties kept to themselves. Hermione opened the old, tattered book carefully.

 “Let's see... M... N... O... P...

 It was soon obvious why the book was kept in the restricted section. Some potions were too scary to imagine, just by looking at the illustrations.

 “Ah, here it is. Polyjuice Potion.”

 Megan glanced at the picture beside the text, and hoped the expression of pain on the people's faces as they changed into someone else were just the imagination of the drawer.

 “Okay... these we can get easily, we use them in class...” Hermione said.

 “Horn of Bicorn,” Megan said. “That'll be harder to get, though.”

 Hermione nodded.

 “Snape will have some in his personal store,” she said. “We'll have to get it there. But the boomslang skin's going to be tricky, we don't use that in class.”

 “Hermione, d'you realise the trouble we'll be in if we're caught?” Ron said.

 “Well, if you're scared, fine.” she snapped. “I don't like breaking rules, you know that. But someone attacking Muggle-borns sounds a bit more serious than a dangerous potion! So if you don't want to know whether Malfoy's responsible, I'll just take this back to the library right now!”

“Who would have thought you'd be the one to lead us into breaking the rules,” Harry said. “How long d'you think the potion will take?” Megan asked.

 “... A month, if we get all the ingredients.”

 “A month?!” Megan gasped. “Malfoy or whoever it is will have time to attack at least half the Muggle borns in the school by then!”

 Hermione looked worried.

 “I know,” she sighed. “but it's the only plan we have.”

***************************

Hmm, things are getting complicated here! Chambers with monstrous beasts, founder feuds, illegal potion brewing...

What would you do in their shoes? Let us know in the comments! ;-)

Will they be able to brew the potion before another attack? Who is behind these dark deeds? Let's find out in the next chapter!