"I always knew Salazar Slytherin wasn't the twisted, muggle-hating, old loony everyone made him out to be," Draco told Harry and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he was married to Helga Hufflepuff. It's odd, isn't it, that it's usually Ravenclaw house that sides with Slytherin, rather than Hufflepuff."
"Perhaps it's because Slytherin left Hufflepuff behind. Professor Binns didn't say anything about her leaving with him. She must have been upset," said Hermione.
"Upset? My father always says 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' She probably would have killed him if he had returned. I thank Merlin I'm in the house that had an intelligent leader. I mean, how could Ravenclaw not see how stupid she was being. Of course, I shouldn't expect much from someone who married Gryffindor. After all, he's the epitome of stupid. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Gryffindor, I'd have gotten on the train straight back home..." Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly. Harry had never told his friends that the Sorting Hat had considered putting him in Gryffindor. He cheered himself with the thought that the hat had ultimately put him in Slytherin, and had admitted that he was better suited for that house.
As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevy went past.
"Hiya, Harry!"
"Hello Colin!" hissed Harry, but Colin hadn't heard him.
"Harry — Harry — a boy in my class has been saying you're —" But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall; they heard him squeak, "See you, Harry!" and he was gone.
"What's a boy in his class saying about you?" Hermione wondered.
"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Harry, feeling an odd sensation as he suddenly remembered the way Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from him at lunchtime.
"People here'll believe anything," said Draco. "Still, being Slytherin's heir isn't too bad, is it Harry?" The crowd thinned and they were able to descend the next staircase without feeling as though they were being dragged along with the current.
"D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Greg asked Hermione.
"I don't know," she said, frowning. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be — well — human." Harry and Draco gave her a look of disgust. "Look, I know he's evil, but he is a very powerful wizard." Harry and Draco nodded, acknowledging the truth of that statement. As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message "The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened."
"That's where Filch has been keeping guard," Greg muttered. They looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.
"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Draco, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues. "Scorch marks!" he said. "Here — and here —"
"What about Luna?" asked Harry.
"She has class, and we have a free period now. She can hardly join us at the moment, and who knows when we'll get another opportunity like this. We'll tell her all about it when we see her later."
Harry looked at Draco in exasperation, but couldn't actually find fault with his logic. "Oh, very well," he capitulated grumpily.
"Come and look at this!" said Hermione. "This is funny..." Harry got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.
"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" asked Hermione wonderingly.
"No," said Harry, "have you, Draco?"
"Not at all, Greg?"
"Never, Vince? Vince?" Greg looked over his shoulder. Vince was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.
"What's wrong?" asked Harry.
"I don't care for spiders," said Vince tensely.
"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Vince in surprise. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times..."
"I don't mind them dead," said Vince, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move..." Hermione giggled. "It's not funny," said Vince, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, my cousin accidentally turned my — my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider...You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and..." He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."
"It was about here," said Draco, walking a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door." He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.
"What's the matter?" asked Harry.
"Can't go in there," said Draco gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."
"Oh, Draco, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look." And ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign, she opened the door. It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Harry had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges. Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?" Harry and Draco went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.
"This is a girls' bathroom," she said, eyeing Draco, Vince, Greg and Harry suspiciously. "They're not girls."
"No," Hermione agreed. "I just wanted to show them how er — nice it is in here." She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.
"Ask her if she saw anything," Harry mouthed at Hermione.
"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "We wanted to ask —"
"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead —"
"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," said Hermione. "Harry only —"
"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" howled Myrtle. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"
"I wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately," said Harry quickly. "But I was too shy." Myrtle stopped mid-wail and looked at Harry differently.
"Oooooh, now why would a handsome boy like yourself be shy?" Draco tried very hard not to laugh at the horrified look on Harry's face.
"Er, I don't talk to girl's much."
"Well, I can help you with that."
"Great. So, did you see anything funny lately, Myrtle? Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween. Did you see anyone near here that night?"
"I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle dramatically. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm — that I'm —"
"Already dead," said Greg helpfully. In another abrupt mood swing, Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend. The boys stood with their mouths open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle... and I think she likes you, Harry." Draco, Greg, and Vince laughed, causing Harry to turn red.
"Come on, let's go," he bit out.
Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump.
"YOU FIVE!" One of the Weasley brothers had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face. Harry remembered him from the incident on the train. "That's a girls' bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you doing in there?"
"Just having a look around," Draco shrugged. "Not that it's any of your business, but we were looking for clues, you know —" Weasley swelled in an odd manner.
"Get — away — from — there —" Weasley said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you Slytherins have any decency? Merlin, you're only in second year, and you're already off having some orgy?"
"HOW DARE YOU!" Hermione's voice rose with a fearsome power Harry had never heard come from her before. The Weasley idiot took several steps back. Even Harry cowered a little. Draco, however, just watched in awe.
"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO PRESUME SUCH THINGS! I AM NOT ONE OF THE GRYFFINDOR WHORES!"
"Miss Granger? What is the problem here? What is the meaning of this ruckus?" They all looked to Professor Snape who was striding toward them, with his robes billowing behind him.
"Professor Snape!" Hermione ran to him, managing to make tears run down her face. "He-he-he said..." She sniffed, and Professor Snape looked to Harry, Draco, Greg, and Vince for an explanation.
"Professor, these students just-"
"Quiet! I have not asked for you to speak. A student in my house is crying, and, from what I can understand, is doing so because of you. Now, Mr. Malfoy, can you tell me what happened?"
"Of course, sir. Mr. Weasley here effectively accused Hermione of being sexually promiscuous for being our friend." Professor Snape turned to Weasley with a murderous glare.
"Is this true, Mr. Weasley?"
"I—well—that's not exactly..."
"Did you, or did you not, slander my student?"
"Well, I might have said..."
"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, and I had better never hear of you making such outlandish accusations again!" Weasley fled the corridor, obviously eager to get away before more points were taken. Professor Snape turned to Harry and his friends, somehow "missing" that Hermione was no longer crying, and didn't even have red eyes.
"Please explain why you all are here."
"We weren't paying attention to where we were going after History of magic and ended up here, so we thought we'd look around a bit." Professor Snape nodded.
"Well, I can understand that, but be careful. While the Professors know none of you could have possibly been involved in the attack, the students don't. You don't want to be part of that."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, run along before you completely miss dinner." Harry, Draco, Vince, Greg, and Hermione slid into seats next to Luna in the just in time for dessert. They met up with Alexander and Violet and then they all went to the library afterwards to finish up some homework. They spotted Ron Weasley as they entered. They had a good laugh as he ignited his parchment with his broken wand. Once they were seated, they all filled Luna Alexander and Violet in on what had happened during History of Magic and after. However no one noticed Violet gripping tightly at the small black book in her hands.
"Who can it be?" Luna asked in a quiet voice. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwart's?"
"Let's think," said Draco. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?" He looked at Hermione.
Hermione looked back, unconvinced. "Are you talking about Weasley?"
"Of course I am! Do you have any better ideas?" asked Draco.
"You heard him — 'You'll be next, Mudbloods!'— come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him —" said Greg.
"Weasely, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Harry skeptically. "Look at his family. The whole lot of them have been in Gryffindor. He's always going on about how much he hates Slytherin. I can't see him as the heir."
"I think you're right, Harry, but who else could it be?"
"I hate to say this, but what about one of our housemates?" asked Harry darkly.
"Perhaps we should question them," said Greg.
"Right, and how are we supposed to do that? It's not as if anyone is going to admit it," said Draco.
"There might be a way," said Alexander slowly, dropping his voice still further with a quick glance around the library. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect some—"
"Alexander, what are you talking about?" asked Luna.
Hermione caught the devious glint in Alexander's eye and smiled.
"What we'd need to do is to get all of our housemates to tell us the truth about their knowledge on the Chamber and who might be behind all of this."
"But that's impossible," Harry said as Greg laughed.
"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Veritaserum."
"What's that?" asked Harry.
"It's a truth serum that compels the drinker to tell the truth, but it's highly regulated. And we'll have to figure out how to get everyone to ingest it." Alexander explained.
"Will they be stuck telling the truth forever?" asked Vince, frowning.
"It wears off after a while, and there's an antidote as well," said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Professor Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library." There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.
"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Draco, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."
"I think," said Hermione, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance..."
"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Harry. "They'd have to be really thick..."