From a Serpent to a Lioness: Year Two

The teacher nods.

“Well, naturally, the school has been searched many times.  No such chamber has been found.” She turns away, but Hermione asks a question that I would have asked if she hadn’t beaten me to the punch.

“Professor, what does legend tell us, exactly, lies within the Chamber of Secrets?”

McGonagall pushes her spectacles up her nose a little.

“The Chamber is said to be home to something that only the Heir of Slytherin can control. It is said to be the home… of a monster.”

 

The lesson ends on quite a somber note, and, as Harry, Ron, Hermione and I walk through the hallways, Ron quietly asks, “D’you think it’s true? Do you think there really IS a Chamber of Secrets?”

Hermione and I answer in sync, “Yes, couldn’t you tell?” I continue, “Look, McGonagall’s worried. All the teachers are. “

Harry says, “But if there really IS a Chamber of Secrets, and it really has been opened, than that means…”

 I answer. “The Heir of Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts… the question is… who is it?”

Ron scowls. “Let’s think. Who do we know who thinks all Muggle-borns are scum?”

Hermione responds, “If you’re thinking about Malfoy--”

“Of course! You heard ‘im! “You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” what a pillock…” Ron rebuts fiercely.

“Yes, I heard him! But Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?”

 

Harry shrugs. “Maybe Ron’s right, Hermione. I mean, look at his family. The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin for centuries.”

I swallow. “MY family has been too…”

Ron puts a hand on my shoulder. “Nah, you’re not the kinda witch to do stuff like this. You’re not like them. You’re a good one!”

Harry and Hermione nod instantly. The black-haired boy adds, “Besides, we know not all-good families produce good kids. Why should only bad kids come from bad families?”

 

I smile. “Thanks, everyone. I don’t like thinking about how I could’ve ended up just like Draco… if I’d bought into all the rubbish my family espouse, I’d be no better than him…”

Back on topic, Ron points out, “Crabbe and Goyle must know! Maybe we could trick them into telling!”

Hermione snorts, “Even THEY aren’t THAT thick. But, there might be another way. But it might be difficult, and we’d be breaking about 50 school rules!”

She looks at me expectantly, and a flash of inspiration floods my mind. “The Polyjuice potion!” I gasp, eyes wide.

“Exactly, Maxine! Now… I hate to ask, but… could you sneak some of that potion out for us? We’d only need a dose between the three of us. We don’t want to get stuck like those two for a full day.”

I nod. “Of course. Luckily, I only use the hair on the doses I’m currently carrying, so the rest of the potion should still work as intended!”

Speaking of which…

I pull the small bottle out of my robes and take a swallow. Keep the effect working, stay myself… never miss a dose!

Harry and Ron look at me with something resembling pride.

“Look, Maxine, we really appreciate you doing this for us. We’ll say that we stole it if anyone asks. That way, you won’t get caught up in it and lose access to it. Besides, if you can’t manage, or don’t want to take the risk, Hermione can brew it!”

I raise an eyebrow. “I mean, I have no doubt she could, but… it’s extremely hard to make, it’d take a month to prepare, and since Snape’s regularly making a batch for my use, he’s very aware of how much of each ingredient he has. If you stole the things to make it, he’d notice immediately.  Worst case for me, I boymode one day during a weekend and stay in bed all day. I can… I can handle a day.”

Harry and Ron share a look, as Hermione grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Oh, Maxine, you’re a star. We won’t forget this, I promise!”

The first two months roll by, and, on the 1^st of March, I beam as I present Ron with his birthday gift, the one I’d bought back in January. He gasps as he unwraps the long, slim box, and, upon opening, his eyes go huge. I smile.  “Happy birthday, Ron. I Hope it’s to your liking!”

Inside the box, is a wand. 11” long, made of willow, with a unicorn hair core. Exactly the same as his broken one, but brand new, undamaged and pristine. He picks it up, and mutters, “Lumos!”

It instantly lights up, responding just as easily as mine did when I was chosen by mine.  Then, extinguishing it, Ron hugs me tight.

“This is… I can’t… how did you… I…” he babbles, unable to finish a coherent thought. I pat him on the shoulder so he’ll stop crushing me, and explain, “I sent a letter to Mr Ollivander. He’s the one who makes all the wands we’ve got, so I simply asked if he could send me the same one as the wand you use. He remembered exactly what it was, and I decided it was worth it to make you happy! Plus, I benefit too! My father’s just as nasty as Malfoy’s, so this way I can get one over on him! I can finally use the money he gave me last year to do something good! It’s just been sitting there gathering dust, after all. I’ve not spent a knut on anything important until now. Getting my friend a really good birthday present, though, is something I would consider very important!”

Ron just hugs me again, lost for words, as Harry and Hermione smile at me. I murmur, “Keep hold of that broken one, though. I figure it might come in handy. Just my women’s intuition kicking in. Trust me on this, I have a feeling that it’s still going to be needed…”

 

 

While I head down to the Potions Classroom with an empty vial, I bump in to a girl in Slytherin colours. I don’t quite recognize her, but she seems familiar. She’s got short, dark hair, with an orange section dyed into her right-side fringe. She looks me up and down. “Who do you think-?! Oh. Oohhhhhhh, you’re that girl Draco hates. He’s been grumbling about you all term.”

 

I blink. “Um… me?”

The girl tilts her head. “Well, if your name’s Maxine Darcy, then yes, YOU. And you’re a goody-two-shoes Gryffindor, huh? Too bad. You look like you’d fit in much better in Slytherin. The hair colour, y’know? Such pure black.”

I narrow my eyes. “And who are YOU? You know my name, but I’ve never met you before.”

The girl gives a rather unpleasant smile. “Merula Snyde, Second-year. I’m the greatest witch at Hogwarts, and don’t you forget it!”

 

I blink. I’ve heard of her family. Her parents were Death Eaters, but they got caught and sentenced to lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban. I didn’t know they had a daughter, though. And that had happened a couple of years after my birth anyway. They’d been friends of my father’s, and he still blames their ‘bad luck’ and carelessness for damning ‘a fine witch and wizard’ to ‘an undeserved fate’.

I nod, trying to smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Merula. Well, this has been… fun, but I really should go. I have to pick up a potion from Professor Snape.”

 

“Oh, really? You’re busy? Well, I hope you’re not too busy to…. DUEL ME! And if you are, I don’t care! I’m duelling you anyway!”

 

I splutter. A few students passing by start getting excited. And, before I can back out, the corridor’s sealed by a throng of bodies at both ends. I sigh. Looks like I’m in for a Knut, in for a Galleon…

I ready my wand. If I can end this quickly, I may get out of here without getting into trouble. With this much attention, the teachers will notice soon!

 

Merula faces me down, a sneer twisting her otherwise-pretty face. In a flicker of movement, her wand’s out and I draw my own.

“Rictusempra!” she calls, casting the Tickling Charm at me. I wave my wand. “Protego!”

She clicks her tongue. “Not bad. I’d be pretty annoyed if you couldn’t even block THAT one. Now…”

She readies herself, and I raise my wand. “Lumos MAXIMA!”

A blinding light flares from the tip of my wand, and Merula cries out in pain. When I extinguish the light, I can see she’s covering her eyes with one hand, aiming at the wall to my left. Taking my chance, I duck through the crowd as quickly as I can, dashing off in the direction of the Potions classroom.

Acquiring my dose of Polyjuice Potion, I head for the Gryffindor common-room at full-speed, carrying my precious cargo.

“Well, that didn’t go QUITE according to plan, but… success! Now to play dumb. I’ll head to the library and study there.  If I can stay out of the way, I can claim innocence…”

 

Luckily, Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided to put it off, until they have enough proof that Malfoy MIGHT be the Heir of Slytherin. Good thing too, since Quidditch season’s started! In the brisk early-morning breeze, I, along with my fellow Gryffindors, crowd into the stands to watch the first match of the year, between Slytherin and Gryffindor.  The match is going well, with roughly-even possession of the Quaffle, with Lee Jordan announcing as usual. He’s got a talent for it, his magically-enhanced voice booming around the pitch, loud enough for everyone to hear.

 

Marcus Flint makes an attempt on the hoops, but Gryffindor Keeper Oliver Wood blocks, passing the Quaffle off to Angelina Johnson, one of the Chasers, while a Slytherin player body-checks him deliberately while in pursuit of the Quaffle.

 Angelina makes a dash for the Slytherin team’s  hoops, but Marcus manages to punch the ball out from under Angelina’s arm, sending it towards one of the green-robed players, who snatches it out of the air and takes off at full speed.

 

Marcus Flint’s teammate powers for the Gryffindor hoops, with the red-robed Chasers in hot pursuit. A Slytherin flier crashes into an oncoming Gryffindor on purpose, right before they could intercept the Quaffle. Slytherin scores a goal, and the green-cloaked side of the stands goes wild. Lee Jordan’s frenetic announcements rise above the cheering.

“ANOTHER GOAL FOR SLYTHERIN! THEY LEAD GRYFFINDOR, 90 TO 30!”

 

The Slytherin team form up, almost dive-bombing the pitch, and one of them takes a swing at Harry as they swoop overhead. I scowl at their poor sportsmanship.

Lucius Malfoy is seated next to Professor Snape in one of the spectator’s stands, and I watch as Draco brings his broom alongside Harry’s. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem very friendly at all.

Then, one of the Bludgers stops chasing a Slytherin player and locks-on to the Gryffindor Seeker, narrowly missing Harry’s face as it whooshes past. Oliver Wood yells for Harry to watch himself, before the Bludger makes another strafing run and smashes the front-end of the Captain’s broomstick to splinters, forcing him to ground himself for fear of losing the enchantment that enables the broom to fly.

Harry swings downwards, spinning as the Bludger rockets past him. I pat Hermione’s arm.

“Look! That Bludger’s fixated on Harry! I think something’s wrong with it!”

She nods, eyes wide. “You’re right! I can’t tell if it’s just malfunctioning, or if someone’s controlling it, but it’s acting very unusually!”

 

As Harry dives and swoops around the pitch, the rogue Bludger keeps pursuing, as if possessed. It’s focussed on one goal: braining the boy in its sights as if he owes it ten Galleons.

Ron raises his new wand. “I’ll stop it.” He narrows his eyes, but Hermione forces his arm down.

“No! Even with a proper wand, it’s too risky! You might hit Harry!”

 

Meanwhile, the rogue Bludger punches a huge hole through one of the stadium towers, wood and fabric scraps flying. Then, to much shock and horror, Harry powers straight at a smirking Draco. I scream, “The Snitch! Harry’s seen the Snitch, I think!”

 

The Bludger doesn’t seem to care what or who’s in its way as it continues single-mindedly zooming after the Gryffindor Seeker. Draco takes off in equally-hot pursuit, the glinting golden ball darting around in order to avoid capture.

The two players disappear and reappear through gaps in the stadium’s edge, before Draco rockets out of the ditch in a parabolic arc, slamming down onto his back and skidding a couple of metres across the grass, legs spread-eagled, probably doing his groin a serious mischief. His brand-new broom goes tumbling across the grass beside him. He struggles to lift his head, before letting it thump back onto the well-manicured lawn. His father looks disdainfully at his fallen son, and I snicker silently.

“Serves you right, you little toad!”

 

Harry, meanwhile, is right behind the Snitch as the rogue Bludger comes in from the side, smashing into Harry’s right forearm with sickening force. His armguard goes spinning off and he comes down, descending like a Sycamore seed, to land with a thump on the grass, not far from the downed Slytherin Seeker.

In his other hand, something golden… glimmers.

Lee Jordan’s voice echoes out as Ron, Hermione and I all scramble for the stairs, hoping to reach our friend.

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!”

As Harry lies there on the ground, the rogue Bludger comes down from above, clearly intending to smash the boy’s head into paste.