Christmas morning dawned cold and white. Megan and Hermione woke the boys early by going up to their dormitory.

“Up and at'em!” Hermione called brightly, opening the curtains.

“Hey, this is the boys's dormitory, you can't be here!” Ron protested indignantly.

“Merry Christmas to you, too. Megan and I have been up for over an hour already, adding the final touches to the potion. It's ready.”

They were wide awake now.

 "Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Hermione said, sitting on Ron's bed while Megan took Harry's. “If we're going to do anything, I think we should do it tonight.”

Just then, a soft flutter of wings announced Hedwig's arrival. She floated into the room and landed on the foot of the bed.

“Hello, there, stranger,” Megan said with a smile. “You talking to me again?”

Hedwig had been a bit moody since their hectic arrival. She nipped her finger gently, and that was a much more valuable present than the toothpick from the Dursleys, along with a letter asking her to enquire about staying at the school over the summer as well.

“Well... it's the thought that counts...” Hermione said uncertainly as she saw it.

“Na, they just do it because they have to. Don't worry about it”, she added at her sad look. “It's fine. I don't care about them.”

Her other presents were more interesting. A large box of toffees from Hagrid, which they melted on the fire as they shared them, a book called Flying With The Canons from Ron, telling her about his favourite team, a splendid eagle quill from Hermione, and a finely designed frame from Harry.

“You can put your favourite picture of your parents in it,” Harry said.

As for Cedric, he had given her a book on the myths and legends of the wizarding world. It was beautiful. She was glad she had thought of a book on Magical History, which Cedric was deeply interested in (they often joked he was the only student to find Binns interesting).

Her last present was from Mrs Weasley, a large cake and another jumper (she was glad of it; her last one had grown too small). However, she felt a pang of lingering guilt, even if the Weasleys didn't. Not only for the car, but for all the forbidden things they were about to do.

As promised, Megan wrote a letter. Just to be on the safe side, she never referred to the potion directly.

Dear Cedric.

Happy Christmas to you and your family. Thanks a lot for your present, it’s great. I hope you didn't spend a fortune on it!

Things are pretty quiet, here, as you can imagine, nothing to report... we've been catching up on that homework I told you about. And we're thinking we're about finished. And tonight, of course is the feast. Then, we'll just check up our homework one last time.

You must think I'm nuts doing my homework on Christmas, but it's Potions, so we were afraid we wouldn't make it if we didn't use all the time we could.

I hope you have a great Christmas and happy New Year.

Yours, Megan.

The weather wasn't too hostile, so Hedwig didn't mind going out to deliver her letter.

Even in the light of the events, no one could feel downhearted at Hogwarts on Christmas evening. The Great Hall was superbly decorated, with icicles, the usual twelve trees, the little fairies, gold and silver baubles, holly and mistletoe, magical snow... all the makings for a magical Christmas. When a floating branch of mistletoe floated around her, she couldn't help picturing Cedric and herself. She blushed at the idea.

“Megan, are you hiding something?” Ron asked.

“What? No!”

“Magical mistletoe is especially sensitive to people who are in love,” Harry explained.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. So, tell me all, who is it?” Hermione said. “It's Cedric, isn't it?”

“Now, now, Hermione, don't pester her,” Harry said.

She smiled at him gratefully, though her cheeks were still a bright pink. She ignored Malfoy's snide remarks about her jumper, mainly because she knew he wouldn't be so smug in a few hours. And because she personally found the jumper great.

“Megan, who are you going to turn into?” Hermione asked in a low voice.

Her choice wasn't difficult to make. The girl beside Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, was clearly a member of his inner circle. Who better, then, to get answers from Malfoy?

“Pansy Parkinson.”

Hermione peered at her too.

“Great idea. But you'll need to get a couple of hairs...”

 “Okay.”

 “Here,” Hermione said, handing her a tube from under the table.

 “What about you?

 “I will be Milicent Bulstrode.” Hermione said, pointing discreetly at her over at the Slytherin table. “I got her hair from the girls' bathroom.”

 But Harry and Ron didn't yet have any hair from Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione had planned it out for them.

 “Here, they love stuffing their faces, so they'll jump at the chance to have these. I added a sleeping draught that should knock them out.”

 “How are we going to deal with Pansy Parkinson?” Harry asked.

 “She likes thinking she's Malfoy's equal, so she'll be with the two goons as well.”

 “Without Malfoy?”

 “Look, he's leaving,” Megan said. “The other three aren't following.”

 “Perfect. Let's go and get into place.”

Hidden behind two large statues, they got ready to watch them arrive. Megan pointed her wand at Hermione's chocolate cakes and whispered:

 “Wingardium Leviosa!”

The small confections rose obediently and stayed there. They waited a long half hour before the three Slytherins. As an extra precaution, Hermione had produced a third cake. She hadn't come for this part of the plan, because she wanted to keep an eye on the potion. They were so close, they couldn't afford to have any problems. Fortunately for them, Milicent, who was a plump girl herself, appeared to have a sweet tooth of her own, and devoured her cake as greedily as the boys. While they were stuffing their faces, Megan pointed her wand at Pansy and whispered:

“Somnolus”

Soon, they slumped to the floor.

“How thick can you get...?” Ron asked incredulously.

They found it harder to lock them in a closet afterwards, though. They were heavy.

“C'mon, let's go.”

They hurried up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

A thick black smoke was filling the toilet as they entered. When Megan called her name, Hermione came out, looking anxious.

“You got it?” she asked breathlessly.

They just nodded. Megan glanced into the cauldron. It was grey and bubbly, and generally uninviting.

“Alright... I followed the instructions exactly... it's happening the way it does in the book...”

“Okay, so now what?”

“Take these robes, I got them from the laundry. We add the hairs and drink it.” Hermione said. “Don't forget, we'll have exactly an hour before the potion wears off.” she added.

“Okay.”

She had already changed, so the three others did so too while she poured it into four glasses. As they added the hairs, the potion hissed and turned a nasty shade of yellow.

“Urgh... it must taste ghastly...” Ron said.

“Add your hairs, see what it does,” she instructed.

They did. Megan's turned a dark muddy green colour, Harry's became khaki, and Ron's a muddy brown.

“Wait,” Harry said. “Ron and I will be doubling in size, we can't drink here.”

“Right,” Ron agreed. “Each one to a cabin.”

They soon were ready.

“Ready?' Megan asked.

“Ready,” they called.

“One... Two... Three!”

Megan pinched her nose and swallowed it in two long gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage. As soon as she felt it run through her body, she felt a burning pain in her insides. She bent over, gasping and wondering if she was about to be sick. And then, soon, her whole body tingled and burned as though electricity and fire was going through it. Her hair, which had fallen on either side of her face, became dark, her body and arms changed... the pain made her clutch her chest, a hand on the wall of the cabin. And finally, it stopped. She gasped, panting for breath, and opened the door.

 “Megan...?”

 Crabbe and Goyle were standing in front of her, looking slightly confused.

“Yeah.”

She turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She reached her hand to her face. She was now Pansy Parkinson. She was far from keen on the idea, but she was willing to make the sacrifice to save the school. Hogwarts was her home and no one messed with her friends.

“This is weird...”

“Hermione? It worked! Come on, let's go!”

“Er... I don't think I will, actually. You go on without me.”

“Hermione, we know she's not much to look at,” Ron said. “No one'll know it's you.”

“Just go!” she said. “You're wasting time.”

“Hermione, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Just go on.”

They hurried out and down the marble staircase. They just needed to find the Slytherin common room.

“They always come from here to go to the Great Hall in the morning,” Megan said, pointing to the entrance to the dungeons.

They were about to head in that direction but were stopped.

“Hey, what are you three doing?”

“Percy...” Ron muttered.

“We were heading to our common room.” Megan said.

She remembered just in time to add a hint of coldness to her voice.

“What are you doing down here?” Ron asked.

“I am a Prefect. You have no business roaming around the school at this time.”

“Crabbe, Goyle! Pansy!”

Malfoy came striding up.

“Were you still in the Great Hall?”

They nodded.

“Where's Bulstrode?”

“Hospital wing,” Megan said swiftly. “Had too much to eat.”

She rolled her eyes as if to express her exasperation.

“Hm.”

Then he spotted Percy.

“And what are you doing here Weasley?”

“Mind your attitude, Malfoy.”

Megan fought with herself to not look at Percy as they followed Malfoy.

“Well, then, if you have no legitimate reason to be here, off to your common room.”

They walked off.

They walked down the murky dungeon corridors.

“That Weasley... thinks he's going to catch the heir of Slytherin single handed or something?” Malfoy growled.

The three others exchanged a look. As much as she hated to admit it, Megan did agree she wouldn't have put it past Percy to try. But she let that go for the time being. They might get their answers in moments. They stopped in front of a bare wall.

“What's the new password, again, Pancakes?”

Megan managed to resist a horrified expression, and just went:

“Er... I didn't remember it had changed...”

“Oh, yeah, I remember, now. Pure Blood.”

The wall opened and they entered. It was dark and green. A lot different from the Gryffindor common room, which was lit up and bright.

“Got something to show you. I'll go get it. Father just sent it to me.”

Malfoy disappeared and Megan and the boys sat in arm chairs. Shortly after he came back, holding a piece of paper.

“Here, look at this.”

He held it out to Megan, who read it aloud.

ENQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC.

Arthur Weasley, employee at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, was fined fifty galleons for enchanting a Muggle car, a blue Ford Anglia. Mr Lucius Malfoy, member of the Administration Council of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the car crashed a few months ago, asked for Mr Weasley's resignation, claiming he had “tarnished the reputation of our Ministry. He has no competence to write laws and his Act for the Protection of Muggles should be abandoned immediately.”

Mr Weasley refused to make any comment, and his wife merely “advised” our reporters to “clear off if they didn't want to have the house ghoul set on them.”

 “Well? It's funny, isn't it?”

Megan and the others forced a laugh.

“That idiot is so obsessed with Muggles he should just snap his wand and go and live among them,” Malfoy said in disgust. “You wouldn't think they're a family of wizards, they're so pathetic.”

Ron's fist clenched. Megan, who had moved to sit on the arm of Malfoy's chair, shook her head warningly. Malfoy, who was lower than her, didn’t see it.

 “What's the matter with you?” Malfoy asked, seeing Ron’s crumpled face.

 “Uh... stomach ache,” he grunted.

 “Then go to the hospital wing and kick those Mudbloods for me.”

 This time Megan was almost as furious as Ron. But she willed herself to keep calm.

 “I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't been talking about the attacks,” Malfoy went on.

“Maybe the Ministry didn't want to cause more panic.” Megan suggested.

“No, I think Dumbledore is hushing it all up. Wouldn't want to loose his seat at the head of the school, would he?”

Megan knew he wasn't like that at all, but said nothing.

“He'll be kicked out if this goes on,” Malfoy said gleefully. “Father always said he thought Dumbledore was the worst thing that could happen to this school. A real headmaster would never have let dirt like Creevey in.”

Megan bit her lip but stayed still. Keep calm... keep calm... she ordered herself. But time was slipping and they hadn't had a real answer yet.

“Potter, can I take your picture? Potter, can I have your autograph?”

He pretended using an invisible camera. But when he only got silence, he looked at them and said.

“What's the matter with you?”

A little late, they laughed. But Malfoy didn't seem to mind. They weren't impersonating the brightest of people.

“Saint Potter... Mudblood lover, she's no better than that Weasley lot. She doesn't act like a real witch either or she'd never be with that Granger. To think some people seriously believe that she's the heir of Slytherin!”

Megan held her breath. Could this be it?

“If only I knew who it really was... I could help.”

Megan didn't know what these words brought up in her. She was happy to know something about the heir, but she had been so sure it was Malfoy, she felt a little frustrated at having to go back to the beginning. Because if he didn’t tell his friends, she doubted that he was the heir. She glanced at Harry and Ron, who both looked dumbfounded. It was probably Crabbe and Goyle's usual faces because Malfoy didn't notice.

“But, Draco, you must have some idea?” Megan asked coaxingly.

“No,” he sighed. “Father won't tell me anything. He's worried I'll tell everyone about it and draw attention. But he was a student when it was last opened fifty years ago. And I do know this: the last time it was opened, a Mudblood died.”

 Megan felt the blood drain from her (or was it Pansy's?) face. And she felt very relieved that so many of the Muggle borns were gone.

 “So it's probably only a matter of time before another dies this time. As for me, I hope it's Granger.”

Megan, Harry and Ron were all on the very edge of breaking point. But they only had to hold on a little longer. She threw them both warning looks. Harry managed to compose himself to ask:

 “Which one was it? The Mudblood that died?”

 “I don't know,” Malfoy said.

 “And what about the person who opened up the chamber last time?” Megan asked. “D'you know if they got caught?”

 “Well, I don't know their name either, but they were expelled.” Malfoy said. “Probably got thrown in Azkaban.”

 “Azkaban...?” Harry said.

 He knew Megan didn't know it so he had pretended he didn't.

 “The wizard prison, Goyle!” Malfoy said exasperatedly. “You're even thicker than usual, today.”

 He turned to Megan.

 “Anyway. My father told me to keep quiet and let the heir of Slytherin do his thing. He has enough on his plate already. D'you know the Ministry came and made an inspection last week?”

 “Oh, Draco!” Megan said, trying to sound horrified.

 “Yeah. Luckily, they didn't find much. My father has a lot of precious dark magical items in the house. He stores them under the living room.”

 “Oh, he does, does he?” Ron said, sounding interested.

 Megan gave him another warning look. Fortunately, Malfoy, seemingly, took no notice. Just then, she noticed Ron's flaming red hair was poking out through Crabbe's black buzz cut. The hour seemed to be almost out! Malfoy lay a hand on her leg. She gasped and jumped up, both out of revulsion and surprise.

 “What's the matter?” Malfoy asked.

 “Uh... I just remembered!” she said, suddenly getting an idea. “I forgot my potions book at the library. I have to go and get it now, or I’ll never have time to finish that essay... And I need these two to come too.”

 For once, she was glad the Slytherins and Gryffindors shared half their Potions classes. And given Pansy’s fairly weak level in Potions, it didn’t sound too out there.

 “You do? Well, up to you. Can't see them being much help.”

 “You two, come.”

 They left the room before he could see anything out of the ordinary.

Once out of the common room Megan didn't slow down.

“Megan, it's okay... we're out.” Harry said quietly.

“Let's just get out.” she said shortly.

They didn't stop until they were back in the girl's bathroom. Megan leaned on the nearest sink and breathed deeply for a few minutes.

“Are you okay?”

They were all back to themselves.

“Yeah. Just grossed out. Hermione? Are you there? We've got loads to tell you!”

“Go away!” she squeaked.

Megan stopped, befuddled.

“Hermione? Are you okay?”

“C'mon, Milicent's face must have worn off now,” Ron said.

Finally, the door opened.

“You know I said it was only for human transformation...?”

Her face was covered in black cat fur, her eyes were wide and yellow... She had turned into a mixture between a girl and a cat...

“It was cat hairs...” she said tearfully.

Ron sniggered but stopped when Harry elbowed him and Megan gave him a dark look.

“C'mon, let's get you to Madam Pomfrey...” Harry said. “She never asks too many questions...”

So they took her to the hospital wing.