"MY SUBJECT IS HISTORY OF MAGIC," HE SAID in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends."

"Don't legends always have a basis in facts?" Harper spoke up from besides Hermione, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

Professor Binns looked at her in such amazement that she raised her eyebrow.

"Well," he began, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale . . ."

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. Harper could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see . . . the Chamber of Secrets . . . You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago—the precise date is uncertain—by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns pauses again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said, "but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin has built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione's hand was back in the air.

"Sir—what exactly do you mean by 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the heir of Slytherin alone can control," Professor Binns said in his dry, reedy voice.

Harper exchanged a nervous look with Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," Professor Binns said, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber of Secrets and no monster."

"But, sir," Seamus spoke up, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," Professor Binns said in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found a thing . . ."

"But, Professor," Parvati piped up, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it . . ."

"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic, doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," Professor Binns snapped. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore . . ."

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't . . ." Dean Thomas began, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exists! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable facts!"

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

• ✧ •

"I ALWAYS KNEW SALAZAR SLYTHERIN WAS A twisted old loony," Ron told Harry, Hermione and Harper, 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 started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I would have got the train straight back home . . ."

Hermione and Harper nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything, earning a worried glance from Harper. She knew the Sorting Hat considered putting him in Slytherin, he had told her that once when they were alone.

As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevey went past. Harper quickly ducked behind Ron but Harry wasn't so fortune.

"Hiya, Harry!"

"Hello, Colin," Harry replied.

"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 towards the Great Hall; we heard him squeak See you, Harry! and he was gone.

"What's the boy in his class saying about you?" Hermione wondered.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," Harry replied, making Harper shake her head.

"That cannot be. If you're the heir, that makes me the heir, too."

"People here'll believe anything," Ron said in disgust.

The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.

"D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked Hermione.

"I don't know," she replied, frowning. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be—well—human."

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 has been opened.

"That's where Filch has been keeping guard," Ron muttered.

They looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurry to have a poke around," Harry said, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues.

Harper narrowed her eyes as she saw around twenty spiders scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack in the glass. A long silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

"Come and look at this!" Harper said, not looking away from the spiders. Soon enough, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood next to her. "Have you ever seen spiders act like that?"

"No," Harry and Hermione replied, shaking their heads, "Have you, Ron? Ron?"

Harper looked around, knowing just how much Ron detested spiders.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"I—don't—like—spiders," Ron said tensely.

"I never knew that," Hermione said, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in potions loads of times . . ."

"I don't mind them dead," Ron said, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move . . ."

Hermione giggled and Harper nudged her, knowing Ron would tell her the story.

"It's not funny," Ron said, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned m-my teddy bear into a dirty great spider because I broke his toy broomstick. 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 and Harper put her arm around his shoulder.

"Remember all that water on the floor?" Harry asked, getting off the subject. "Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up."

"It was about here," Ron said, recovering himself to walk himself a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door."

He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hands as though he had been burned.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked.

"Can't go in there," Ron replied gruffly, "that's the girl's toilet."

Harper rolled her eyes. "You won't find anyone there. That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look." She ignored the large Out of Order sign and opened the door.

Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off towards the end cubicle. When she reached it, Harper saw Moaning Myrtle floating on the cistern of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.

"Hello, Myrtle," Hermione began. "How are you?"

"This is a girls' bathroom," she said, eying Ron 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," Harper could see Harry mouth to Hermione.

"What are you whispering?" Myrtle said, staring at him.

"Nothing," Harry replied quickly. "We wanted to ask—"

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" Myrtle exclaimed in a voice chocked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead."

"Myrtle, no one wants to upset you," Harper piped in. "Harry only . . ."

"No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!" Myrtle howled. "My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"

"We wanted to ask you if you'd seen anything funny lately," Hermione said quickly, "because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."

"Did you see anyone near here that night?" Harry asked.

"I wasn't paying attention," Myrtle said 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," Ron said helpfully.

Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over and dived head first into the toilet, splashing water all over us and vanishing from sight; from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.

"Really helpful," Harper said, glancing at Ron. "And that was almost cheerful for her." She shook her head. "Let's go."

Harry has barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all four of them jump up.

"RON!"

Percy had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.

"That's a girls' bathroom!" he gasped. "What were you . . . ?"

"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know . . ."

Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Harper forcefully of Molly.

"Get—away—from— there," he said, striding towards us and started to chivvy them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner . . ."

"Why shouldn't we be here?" Ron asked hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"

"That's what I told Ginny," Percy said fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled; I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out. You might think of her, all the first-years are thoroughly over-excited by this business . . ."

"You don't care about Ginny," Ron said, whose ears were reddening now. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy!"

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!"

And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.

• ✧ •

HARRY, RON, HERMIONE AND HARPER CHOSE seats as far as possible from Percy in the Common Room that night. Ron was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his homework, Ron slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. To my surprise, Hermione followed suit.

"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd want all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," Ron said in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"

He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.

"If you're talking about Malfoy . . ."

"Of course I am!" Ron said. "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 . . ."

"Malfoy, the heir of Slytherin?" Hermione spoke up skeptically.

"Look at his family," Harry said, closing his books, too. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin, he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendant. His father's definitely evil enough."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" Ron exclaimed. "Handing it down, father to son . . ."

"Well," Hermione said cautiously, "I suppose it's possible . . ."

"But how do we prove it?" Harry asked darkly.

"There might be a way," Harper spoke up, dropping her voice and glancing at Percy who sat across the room. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules." Harper grinned sheepishly at the thought of that. "We need to get inside the Slytherin Common Room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."

"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed. Hermione, however, seemed to know where Harper was going.

"No, it's not," she said. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" Harry and Ron asked together.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago . . ."

"D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than to listen to Snape?" Ron muttered.

"It transforms you into somebody else!" Harper added. "Think about it! We could change into four of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would just tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin a Common Room right now, if only we could hear him."

"This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me," Ron said, frowning. "What if we were stuck looking like four of the Slytherins for ever?"

"It wears off after a while," Hermione replied, waving her hand impatiently, "but getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. 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: they needed a signed note of permission from a teacher.

"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," Ron said, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"I think," Hermione said, "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," Ron said. "They'd have to be really thick . . ."

Harper grinned and looked up. "I know a guy."

• ✧ •

AFTER TELLING THEM HER PLAN, HERMIONE and Harper made their way towards their dorm room. There, Dale was already waiting for her with a letter tied to his leg.

If Hermione noticed that Harper was writing more than usual, she didn't comment on it. Instead, she took her favorite book and started reading it, while the redhead moved closer to Dale.

Taking the letter, she unfolded it and read:

Dear Harper,

I know the imbecile you write of. He was at Hogwarts the same time I was. He was a Ravenclaw (though I do now know why or how) and had a thing for your mother. It drove James crazy (which was kinda funny). Fortunately Lily knows an idiot when she sees one and rejected him.

So youngest Quidditch players in a century, huh? Not bad, I'm proud of you! I'm not sure if you know but your father was a chaser while he was at Hogwarts. I'm sure he'd have been proud.

Now, to answer your question. Peter had always been afraid of You-Know-Who and I think that's why he did it. He didn't want to die.

With love,

Sirius

Harper sighed, not sure what to make out of it, and folded the letter. She put the it in her trunk with his other letter, and changed into her pajamas.

Today had been a long day.

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June 4th 2022
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)