Chapter 16

 

The Third Attack

 

“A little honesty can go a long way.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Harriet felt her whole world go reeling. Hermione might as well have pulled the rug out from under her feet. She shivered and sat down in one of the chairs.

“I… I have an ability that only Slytherin’s family had?” she asked, not wanting to believe it.

Dora nodded. “In fact, Salazar Slytherin himself was called ‘Serpent-Tongue;’ that’s why our house animal is a snake.”

Harriet shivered once more. It wasn’t possible; it just wasn’t possible. How could she be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? She was a Gryffindor, wasn’t she? Professor McGonagall had praised her for showing true Gryffindor spirit in going after Colin, hadn’t she?

“But… I can’t be… I just can’t be…” Harriet muttered.

“That’s going to be hard to prove,” Hermione said matter-of-factly, sitting in the seat beside Harriet and putting an arm around her shoulders.

While Harriet had mostly felt anger over the past month, it was starting to turn into despair. She felt tears welling up, and she sniffed as Dora sat in the seat on the other side of her and awkwardly put an arm around Harriet’s shoulders too. Harriet didn’t know why, but she leaned over and rested her head on Dora’s shoulder, sighing. Dora seemed to tense up but didn’t protest.

Harriet gave a short laugh of disgust. “Well, maybe now that I’ve proven myself to be related to Slytherin everyone will leave the refugees alone.”

Dora and Hermione both squeezed her shoulders tighter. Harriet sniffed again. Something Harriet had never been sure about finally made sense to her. This was why the Sorting Hat had wanted to put her in Slytherin last year. It probably would have done if she hadn’t insisted so hard on Gryffindor. In spite of herself, Harriet gave another little laugh of relief for her stubbornness.

She dabbed her eyes. What if she was the heir? But if she was, then who was opening the Chamber? Harriet knew it couldn’t be her; she was sure she’d remember setting some dirty great monster on Colin and Mrs Norris. And she had been talking with people when both attacks had taken place.

“So, if I am a descendant of Slytherin then who’s opening the Chamber?” she asked not lifting her head.

“I don’t know,” Marcus replied. “But we know there’s no way you could have attacked Colin or Mrs Norris.”

“Plus, after a thousand years it’s pretty unlikely you’d be the only descendant of Salazar Slytherin. Not saying that you are of course,” Hermione reasoned. “I mean if that were the case, Slytherin could only have had one child, who then would have only had one child… over a thousand years that’s—”

“Yeah, unlikely. I mean not saying that you are…” Ronnie added. “But it doesn’t automatically mean you are Slytherin’s heir.”

“Well, you could be one of them,” Dora said matter-of-factly.

“Dora, not helping,” Hermione hissed sharply.

“Right,” Dora said quickly. “Sorry.”

“And besides, you remember what Professor Binns said?” Hermione asked. “Being related to Slytherin wouldn’t make you some secret dark wizard. It’s just how people twisted his thoughts over the years. It’s… it’s kind of like the native’s and AJ’s family isn’t it?”

Harriet sat up again. She didn’t know what to feel anymore, aside from the fact she didn’t want to think about the Heir or the Chamber or Salazar Slytherin or any of it anymore. She just wanted to go back to the start of the year, when everyone was happy, there was laughter in the halls, and the biggest worry was what stupid thing Lockhart was going to do next.

“I want to go see Kieran,” Harriet said wiping her eyes and standing up.

“Good idea,” Ronnie said. She crossed over and hooked her arm in Harriet’s and started walking her towards the door. The rest followed.

Harriet felt like her legs were moving on auto-pilot. Ronnie steered her down the halls and up stairways until they finally arrived at the hospital wing. Marcus opened the door, and they stepped inside.

Kieran was already in bed with Scott, Ardghal, and Cian sitting around him. The boys all smiled in greeting.

“Well there you lot are,” Kieran said beaming.

“Y-yeah, sorry about that…” Harriet said sheepishly.

Harriet blushed but smiled as Cian, Ardghal and Scott all got to their feet. Cian held out his hand in introduction. Harriet, Marcus, Ronnie and Hermione all introduced themselves to the boys. Harriet muttered a quiet thank you as Cian offered her his chair. Harriet accepted as Ardghal offered his to Dora and Scott offered his to Hermione. Marcus hurried over and brought another chair over for Ronnie.

“Anyway,” Harriet went on, “Sorry, really, we were just… well…”

“Harriet, it’s okay I understand,” Kieran said.

Harriet nodded. “How’s your leg?”

“Oh, fine enough,” Kieran replied. “Madame Pomfrey and Miss Momori have done me up a right treat. I can hardly feel it now, but they’re keeping me under observation for the night just in case,” he went on.

“Well that’s good,” Hermione said.

Harriet still felt ashamed. “Really, sorry again, we should have stayed to help but—”

“Harriet,” Kieran said cutting her off. “it’s fine.”

“Yeah, pretty understandable you’d want to get out of there after that,” Ardghal said.

“Not every day someone figures out they’re a Parselmouth, after all,” Scott added.

“How do you know I only just figured it out?” Harriet asked, perplexed.

“Well, you’re terrible at keeping secrets for one,” Dora said, trying not to laugh.

“And the look on your face afterwards,” Cian said with a cheeky grin. “You just got done speaking Parseltongue, probably the rarest gift in the magical world and you’re just looking around at everyone like ‘what’?”

Harriet blushed and rolled her eyes. “Oh leave me alone,” she muttered. “I didn’t even know I was speaking another language until you guys told me.”

“Still,” Kieran said. “It’s alright, Harriet, it’s a rare ability but—”

“Kinda cool,” Dora butted in, grinning.

Harriet blushed brighter.

“So, you two are first years, right?” Ronnie asked Cian and Ardghal.

“What?” Ardghal asked. “Oh, yeah, why do you ask?”

“Just wanna know how you knew those jinxes already, the ones you used on Crabbe and Goyle,” Ronnie said shrugging. “I sure didn’t know those jinxes when I was a first-year.”

Cian smiled. “Well, Ardghal’s family goes way back…”

“Aye, and my folks were a bit afraid I’d be picked on, I mean, I stand out a bit… so… they didn’t need to, but they taught me a few spells and jinxes and stuff just in case. I know they were being overprotective, but I figured hey, a chance to get ahead of everyone else, why not?”

Cian laughed. “And well, I’m a Muggle-born, so my folks couldn’t teach me much but I sorta went nuts buying up books in Diagon Alley this summer after I got my letter, and well, couldn’t help but try out as much as I could.”

Harriet blinked. Two things struck her right away about this. First of all was her shock that they had done magic outside of school and not got in trouble like she had when Dobby smashed the pudding. Second of all, Cian was the second Muggle-born Slytherin she had met.

“You mean you did magic outside school?” she asked. Cian hadn’t made much of a deal of himself being a Muggle-born, so Harriet figured she probably shouldn’t either.

Cian’s proud expression faltered. “W-well, it’s not… strictly, uhh…”

“Better not let a teacher hear you talking about that,” Dora said. Her eyes were twinkling and darting back and forth between Cian and Ardghal in an almost predatory fashion.

She focused on Ardghal. “Need special permission to teach children magic at home before they come of age,” she said before looking back at Cian, “and as a Muggleborn you shouldn’t have been doing magic at all.”

Ardghal flushed sheepishly. Cian, however, looked as though he wanted to roll his eyes, but seemed nervous about the prospect of giving Dora sass. Dora seemed to realise what Cian had almost done and judging by the grin on her face she was thoroughly pleased about it.

“So you can learn magic outside school?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah,” Scott said. “But as Dora said, you need Ministry permission to teach your kid at home. Though when it comes to, er, pure-blood families, it’s really hard for the Ministry to monitor under-age magic as they can in Muggle homes.”

“How so? And what about Cian then?” Harriet asked.

“Well, the Trace, the charm under-age witches and wizards have on them that detects magic, can only detect when magic is performed around them, but it can’t detect who it was who did the magic,” Scott explained.

“And the Ministry is a little forgiving of Muggle-borns before they come to Hogwarts,” Hermione said, her cheeks going a little pink. “I mean… that’s how I knew so much before I came to Hogwarts after all.”

“Well that’s nice and fair, isn’t it?” Harriet muttered. “Sorry, I guess that’s just new to me like I thought everyone had to come to Hogwarts.”

“Nah, you can be taught at home or go abroad to another school like Durmstrang or Beauxbatons or Rathlin or Phoenix,” Scott explained. “Well Rathlin’s a bit more selective getting in but you do have a choice is the point.”

Harriet blinked. She’d heard of Rathlin and Beauxbatons before, but not those other schools. She was sure Hermione had said last year that she had a distant cousin who went to Beauxbatons.

“How many magical schools are there in Europe?” She asked.

“Heh, well you just heard them,” Kieran said.

“Yeah, I sort of list all examples like that, bad habit,” Scott said laughing. “you’re just lucky there were only four others. Beauxbatons is just outside Cannes, France; Rathlin is on Rathlin Island just off the coast of Ulster—”

“Oh god, I wanted to go to Rathlin,” Dora interjected.

“How come?” Harriet asked. “I thought you were going to go to Beauxbatons?”

Dora suddenly looked a little cross and confused. Harriet suddenly realised the only reason she knew about Dora being enrolled in Beauxbatons was because Dora’s ancestor, Nicolas Flamel, had told Harriet about it in a letter last year shortly before his death.

“I was, yeah, but one of my friends growing up goes to Rathlin. I haven’t seen her in ages, but she always had such cool stories about Rathlin. In the middle of the sea, right on the coast—”

“I heard the island’s full of banshees,” Cian said interested.

“Well so’s the rest of Ireland,” Dora replied.

Cian did roll his eyes now.

“So where are the other schools, Phoenix and Durmstrang?”

“Well, Phoenix is in Greece, and no one knows where Durmstrang is, it’s a secret,” Kieran explained.

“A secret?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, but, you wouldn’t wanna go there, based on the reputation,” Cian muttered darkly.

“Reputation?” Harriet asked.

“It’s where Grindelwald came from, the last great Dark Wizard before You-Know-Who, the one Dumbledore defeated,” Hermione said.

Harriet digested the information. As she did, once more her eyes drifted back to Kieran’s leg in the awkward silence. She should ask, she really should finally ask him. She had to know what happened.

“So is that really why the Slytherin animal is a snake?” Ronnie asked. “I always thought that was just because of the name. You know, Slytherin… it just works.”

Everyone turned and looked at Ronnie, bemused. Harriet hadn’t noticed until now, but Ronnie had been very quiet since they arrived at the hospital wing. Had she been mulling that over the entire time? If she had, it was something so “Ronnie” that Harriet couldn’t help but smile.

Dora glowered. “Well you’re a Gryffindor, and your house animal is a lion; Hufflepuff’s is a badger, and how exactly does an eagle represent Ravenclaw?”

“Okay, okay,” Ronnie said. “Sorry.”

Marcus laughed. “You know, we seriously have the most random conversations sometimes.”

Everyone else laughed too, and Madame Pomfrey came bustling over. “Alright, it’s very near curfew you lot, back to your common rooms, this boy needs his sleep.”

Everyone rose and bid Kieran goodnight before shuffling to the door. As they went, Harriet kept looking back over her shoulder, her eyes finding Kieran’s leg once more. Again, she had missed her opportunity. She chewed her lip before sighing. Tomorrow, she would ask tomorrow.

* * * *

Harriet didn’t get her chance to ask Kieran about his leg the next day. Instead a blinding snowstorm blew in during the night, and as a result, their final Herbology lesson was cancelled. This was not only because of the snow, but also because Professor Sprout wanted to fit warm clothes on the Mandrakes, and now that a student had been petrified she was taking no chances in their handling.

Kieran still had not returned from the hospital wing. Harriet was sitting by the fire with Hermione, Ronnie and Marcus playing Wizard’s Chess when James Needle, one of the first years, walked up to her.

“Um, hi, Harriet,” James said. He looked both nervous and confused.

“Oh, hello James,” Harriet said smiling. “What’s up?”

“I, well, I just wanted to say there’s, um, someone waiting for you outside…”

“Someone waiting for me?” Harriet asked.

She shot the others a curious look. They merely shrugged in response.

“Yeah, he’s a Hufflepuff, says his name’s Justin, says you know him?”

Harriet blinked. “Justin… Finch-Fletchley?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” James said. “Said he wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, well thanks, James, yeah, I’ll go see what he wants,” she said and got to her feet.

The others made to get up too, but Harriet waved them down.

“Nah, it’s alright, it’s only Justin,” she said.

Harriet walked to the portrait hole and pushed it open. Sure enough, Justin Finch-Fletchley was waiting. He glanced up at her before his face went red and he immediately dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Oh, hello Harriet, ummm, hi,” Justin said awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah, hi,” Harriet replied, glancing around. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Justin said, thinking hard. “I just… well… I guess… I know what everyone’s saying…”

Harriet felt her lips draw tight. Yes, she did know what everyone was saying, and she was sure it was everyone saying it after last night.

“Yes,” She said curtly.

“Well, I just wanted to say, um…” Justin paused again.

Harriet crossed her arms. On the one hand, she hated the accusations about her being Slytherin’s Heir, but on the other at least Justin seemed like he was going to do it to her face.

“Thanks.”

Harriet blinked in surprise and her arms slackened.

“Wh-what?” Harriet asked.

“Thanks for, for saving me from that snake…” Justin went on, still looking at the floor.

“You… you know I was trying to save you, even though I’m a—”

“Yeah, I… I do…” Justin said quickly as though he didn’t want her to say the word. “I mean I know Ernie doesn’t think so, but I… I did have a long talk with Jeremy last night about it, and he’s right, you did push me out of the way of the snake and even if you are a… you know… it did stop when you talked to it.”

Harriet felt her heart lift a little. So someone out there was talking sense about her it seemed, that was reassuring.

“Oh, well, you’re welcome,” Harriet said, though she blushed feeling she had sounded a lot lamer than she had hoped it would.

Justin didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he smiled. “Well, yeah, I just wanted to say thank you.”

Harriet smiled brighter in spite of herself. “Well, you’re welcome, and, thanks for not thinking I’m, you know… out to kill everyone.”

Justin gave a little laugh and waved turning to walk away. She smiled even brighter as Kieran came walking around the corner passing Justin. He smiled in greeting to Justin as they passed and grinned at Harriet when he saw her.

“Hey, waiting up for me?” He asked as he made his way up.

Harriet laughed. “Well kinda, um, Justin just wanted to, um, thank me I guess, for last night.”

Kieran smiled. “Well that was nice of him,” he said before saying the password to open the portrait hole. “Nice to see some people around here are half sensible.”

“Heh, not wrong there,” Harriet replied and followed him back inside.

They made their way back over to the others.

“Hey there’s our warrior,” Marcus said chuckling then looking at Harriet. “What’d Justin want?”

“Well, to thank me, I guess,” Harriet said sitting down again.

“To thank you?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, for saving him from the snake,” Harriet explained.

“Oh, well that was very nice of him,” Hermione said, sounding pleased.

Kieran winced as he tried to sit down as well. Harriet did her best to try and not stare at his leg. It was strange. Somehow over the past year and a half, Harriet had just come to accept Kieran’s leg as just being a part of him. But now, it was starting to consume her thoughts just as much as the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir of Slytherin.

Hermione quickly cleared her throat. “Hey, I, uh, I have an idea, let’s head to the library.”

Everyone looked at Hermione, and Kieran stopped trying to sit.

“Why?” Ronnie asked. “We’re halfway through a game!”

“Well, I just, it’ll be… quieter there, we can talk easier,” Hermione said quickly. “No one’s going to be in there the day before everyone goes home for the Christmas holidays.”

Harriet wasn’t entirely convinced of this story, but she got up all the same. They made their way back out of the portrait hole and down the hall to the library. It was indeed very quiet as they took seats around a table. Harriet couldn’t hear anyone but Madame Pince who was humming Christmas carols and stamping in books.

“Okay, not going to lie, this is better,” Kieran said shifting in his chair.

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Hermione agreed, smiling.

Harriet gave a sideways glance at Kieran. Harriet was sure that Hermione had suggested moving because of Kieran’s leg. She furrowed her brow. On the one hand, it was better on his leg to sit at a table, but on the other Harriet didn’t know how she felt about calling attention to his leg like that. But then Kieran was the only person with his condition Harriet had ever met. She’d never had friends before Hogwarts, and she was still learning how to act around different people.

Marcus looked around as casually as he could before he leaned over the table.

“So, how’s the potion coming?” He asked in a whisper. “It’s got to be ready soon?”

“Yes, it’s coming along quite nicely, should be ready around Christmas,” Hermione whispered back, grinning confidently.

“Good, getting nervous,” Marcus said. “At least Malfoy will be here over break, don’t want to have to try making this potion all over again.”

“Well, fortunately, Polyjuice keeps for a while,” Hermione replied. “So that won’t be a worry, but it should be a lot easier with fewer people around.”

“Heh, the only thing I’m not so chuffed about is being Goyle,” Kieran cut in, a look of displeasure on his face.

“Well, at least you don’t have to be Crabbe,” Marcus teased. “Though, again, sorry I won’t be able to help out with that, just, don’t wanna leave my dad.”

“Oh jeez, Marcus, it’s fine,” Ronnie said smiling. “No one should be alone at Christmas.”

Marcus blushed and looked a bit more cheered up.

“Hey, Potter,” said a voice from behind Harriet.

Harriet turned to see Katy Tyler, Kenley’s younger sister.

“Oh, hey Katy. Any news?” Harriet asked, gesturing for Katy to sit and join them.

Katy sat and looked around. “Some news, Kenley says she can get the hairs you guys will need for your potion.”

Harriet blinked. “Huh?”

“The hairs? For your potion, right? Polyjuice you said it was?” Katy asked.

Kieran groaned, and Ronnie’s jaw fell slack.

“But how do you know about the potion?” Hermione asked. “We never told Kenley that’s what we were trying to do.”

“And we never told you about it either,” Marcus said.

“Saw it in that first-floor bathroom stall you’re hiding it in, and overheard you all talking about it,” Katy answered.

“Your sister was right; you are nosy,” Ronnie said.

Harriet couldn’t tell if Ronnie sounded more annoyed or proud. Ronnie had taken a liking for Katy and her friends Rayne, Annie, Sarah and Alex. Ronnie had gone out with all of them every weekend through November, teaching them all football though Katy had also started looking into rugby.

Katy didn’t look abashed. “I like knowing what’s going on; it’s useful,” She said and shrugged.

“Yeah, but we asked you to spy for us, not on us,” Marcus said though as Ronnie he looked equally amused and annoyed.

“Hey, you weren’t telling me everything,” Katy said. She turned and looked at Harriet. “Though Potter, you need to follow me a sec, something’s going on I think you wanna hear.”

Harriet pursed her lips but nodded and rose with Katy. Katy led Harriet through the towering shelves. Finally, she paused at the edge of another group of tables and put a finger to her lips. Harriet nodded and peered through a gap in the books to see a group of Hufflepuffs. She recognised Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Jeremy Owens, Isabella Martinez, and another Hufflepuff boy in their year Harriet knew by name only as Zacharias Smith.

“Ernie, Zacharias, honestly you’re both being ridiculous,” Harriet overheard Jeremy say.

“How are we ridiculous?” Ernie shot back. “Found at the scene of the first attack, found at the scene of Colin’s attack, and a Parselmouth!”

“So were others!” Isabella said, sounding just as disgusted as Jeremy did.

“So she has followers,” Zacharias rebutted. “Big deal, You-Know-Who had plenty.”

“But two of them are Muggle-borns,” Hannah Abbot said. “Why would they help her out if she was attacking other Muggle-borns?”

Ernie shrugged. “Who can say? Maybe they’re just looking out for their necks? Help her out, so they don’t get targeted?”

There was a screech of a chair as Isabella got to her feet.

“I’m going back to the common room,” she said curtly. “I’ll see you there, Jeremy.”

“No worries,” Jeremy said.

“Yeah, we’ll… we’ll join you,” Hannah said.

Hannah and Susan got up with Isabella, ignoring Zacharias and Ernie before they stormed off, their noses in the air. Harriet and Katy pressed tighter against the shelf as the girls left, not wanting to be spotted eavesdropping. The pair relaxed as the other three girls moved off and Harriet realised her hands were clenched and there were dents where her nails had dug into her skin. She was undoubtedly upset with Ernie and Zacharias, but she was feeling quite grateful to the other students, and especially to Jeremy, who was still holding his ground.

“Now you two, seriously, Justin went and spoke to Harriet all by himself, he still looked pretty un-petrified when he came back, didn’t he?” Jeremy said trying to sound more reasonable.

“Oh don’t be thick! Of course, she wouldn’t attack him right outside her common room!” Zacharias snapped back.

“Account for the snake then,” Jeremy said. “Harriet could have just let the snake attack anyone, but she didn’t. And the first person she shoved out of the way of the snake was Justin!” Jeremy said, apparently working hard to keep his temper in check.

“But there it is! A Parselmouth! You know what they called Slytherin!” Ernie said.

“I do, I also know there are a few choice words I’d like to call you two, too,” Jeremy snarled “Also if you’ll notice, it wasn’t Harriet who conjured the snake, it was Malfoy. And what about last Spring, eh? Stopping You-Know-Who from getting the Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Probably didn’t want You-Know-Who coming back to power, someone to compete with,” Zacharias said.

Harriet couldn’t see Smith’s face, but she could almost hear the taunting sneer in his voice. She also couldn’t help but notice that he and Ernie avoided responding to Jeremy’s point about Malfoy conjuring the snake. She glowered and clenched her fists again. She was sure they had dodged that point intentionally.

“That’s probably why You-Know-Who went after her in the first place, didn’t want competition either.”

Jeremy snorted disgust and stood up quickly.

“That’s it! I’ve had it with you two, seriously. You’re both going to be proven wrong about this, and you’re going to be feeling pretty stupid. I’m not talking to either of you until you snap out of this,” Jeremy said.

As he spoke the last sentence, Harriet couldn’t help but notice a growl in his voice. It seemed Ernie and Zacharias noticed it as well as they both drew back from him. Jeremy pushed in his chair hard and headed off the same way that the girls had gone.

Harriet wanted to follow and thank him, but again did not want Jeremy to know she’d been eavesdropping. On top of that, Ernie and Zacharias had started talking again, and Harriet didn’t want to hear any more of what they had to say. She took a step back, and Katy turned to follow as they made their way back to the table where Kieran, Hermione, Marcus and Ronnie were still sitting.

“Thanks, Katy,” Harriet said as they returned.

“For what?” Ronnie asked. “What did you see?”

“Ernie MacMillan and Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff giving all the reasons they think Harriet’s the Heir of Slytherin,” Katy answered.

Kieran groaned and rolled his eyes and Marcus got to his feet.

“It’s not worth it, Jeremy already chewed them out,” Harriet said, and Marcus sat back down.

“Just wish people could get over it, why does everyone just jump to these conclusions?” Hermione asked sighing wearily.

“It’s because they’re afraid.”

The group jumped and turned. Another girl was sitting a table away, reading a book casually. She was a Ravenclaw Harriet knew by sight but couldn’t think of her name. She was the older Ravenclaw refugee, the one who Scott said was the ringleader in the divide between the Ravenclaw refugees and the regular students.

“Oh, h-hello, Peyton… n-nice day?” Katy asked, in a tone that said she was trying hard not to sound timid.

That was her name, Harriet thought, Peyton. Peyton Riseman. As Harriet looked at her, she couldn’t help but take in her stark features. Her eyes were bright and alert as they moved over the words in her book. She had a long, very straight nose, and a pronounced jawline and high cheek-bones. She put Harriet somewhat in mind of a hawk, and had to admit; she was a little intimidating.

“Of course, they’re afraid, everyone’s afraid,” Hermione said sounding a little indignant.

Peyton girl didn’t look up, merely flipped another page. “Well duh, what I meant is they’re afraid. People feel unsettled when they’re afraid, so they grab for something solid. They find blaming Potter to be ‘solid’ because it’s easy. ‘Ah-hah! I don’t have to be afraid, I know who did it!’ Happens all the time. Doesn’t matter how much evidence there is.”

Peyton looked up at Harriet, unblinking. “They don’t think you’re the Heir, Potter; they don’t even know you’re the Heir.”

Peyton looked back down at her book and flipped a page. “They want you to be the Heir.”

Peyton turned another page and didn’t say anything else. Harriet bit her lip. What Peyton said made perfect sense, but it didn’t help her feel better in the slightest. Peyton hadn’t sounded accusatory when she said they know Harriet is the heir; it was more like a warning; a straightforward, unsettling warning.

She turned to look at the others again. “I’m uh… I’m going to take a walk… I just wanna think for a bit, if that’s okay?”

Her friends looked like they didn’t want to agree, but they all nodded.

“Before you go, Harriet, remember to look around for Kenley to tell her whose hairs you want,” Katy said, grinning.

Harriet waved in acknowledgement and headed out of the library. She wasn’t particularly paying attention to where she was going, just staring at the floor as she tried to think. She felt as though she had a giant wet blanket on her brain, making it almost impossible to imagine. She was so distracted she almost walked headlong into Professor McGonagall who was coming around a corner.

“Do watch where you’re going, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said. “And what are you doing wandering about alone?”

Harriet blushed. “I… well…” she stammered when the sound of hefty feet running filled the corridor.

Harriet and Professor McGonagall turned to see Hagrid coming as fast as he could down the corridor towards them. He was a somewhat alarming sight as he ran. He was wearing a woollen balaclava and his moleskin overcoat. The most worrisome part was the dead rooster that was flopping around violently in his hand as he ran.

“Professor McGonagall! Come quick!”

“What is it, Hagrid?” Professor McGonagall asked, sounding alarmed.

“Another attack, ma’am! D-double attack, I think, yeh’ll have ter see it ter believe it, ma’am!”

Professor McGonagall’s face went white, and she turned to Harriet. “Come with me, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, and she started off after Hagrid.

Harriet followed as ordered, though more thoughts were running through her mind. Professor McGonagall didn’t think she had anything to do with it this time, did she? Harriet didn’t see how she could; Harriet wasn’t anywhere near where the attack had happened this time. At least she hoped Professor McGonagall would see it that way.

However, when they finally rounded the corner, Harriet felt her heart drop, and her mind went blank. She simply didn’t know how to comprehend what she was seeing. The first thing she saw was the stiff form of a boy lying on the floor. Harriet knew in an instant who he was. He was Justin Finch-Fletchley.

However, it wasn’t just Justin. The most bizarre sight was what was floating right above Justin. The ghostly form of Nearly-Headless Nick. However, Nick wasn’t his translucent pearl colour anymore. He was black and looked as though he was made of very dense smoke. His head was tilted all the way over onto his shoulder, and his arms were spread wide, as though he was trying to shield someone from an attacker.

At that moment, the bell signalling the end of classes rang. The doors along the corridor burst open, and students started flooding the hall though they all stopped at the sight of Justin and Nearly-Headless Nick. There came a few moments of silence before a girl screamed and students started to back away in a panic.

Professor McGonagall drew her wand and gave off a loud bang which silenced the crowd at once. All except for Peeves, who had popped up at the sounds of panic and was dancing about over everyone’s heads, apparently pleased with the fear in the crowd.

“AH-HAH!” a voice shouted from nearby. “I knew it! Once again there’s an attack, and it’s Potter at the scene!”

Harriet turned. It was Zacharias Smith and Ernie Macmillan again.

“Indeed! And look! Justin! Just like we knew it would be!”

“Macmillan, Smith! That is enough! You two may now carry Justin to the hospital wing straightaway,” Professor McGonagall snapped, her eyes dangerously narrow.

The two boys glowered but did as ordered, grunting as they started carrying Justin away. Professor Flitwick drew his wand and waved it as if it was a leaf-blower, air blowing from the tip and wafting Nearly-Headless Nick along as well. Professor McGonagall looked around at the rest of the onlooking students.

“Don’t you all have classes to get to?” she asked in a dangerous voice.

Slowly the crowd started to disperse. After it was gone, Professor McGonagall turned and looked at Harriet.

“Potter, you come with me,” Professor McGonagall said. “I need to take you to see the Headmaster.”

“But, but Professor!”

“No buts, Potter, the Headmaster said if there was another attack I was to bring you to him immediately, follow me.”

Harriet slowly nodded, feeling weak in the knees. This was it; she was done for this time. She followed Professor McGonagall down the hall and around the corner when they came to a large stone gargoyle.

“Lemon drop,” Professor McGonagall said.

Harriet jumped as the gargoyle itself leapt aside, and the wall behind it split into a wide door that led to a sizeable spiralling staircase. The steps of the staircase were moving in a manner that put Harriet in mind of escalators back in the Muggle world.

“Take the stairs all the way up, Potter, just knock and stay inside and wait there for the Headmaster,” Professor McGonagall ordered.

Harriet could only nod and stepped onto the moving stairs. She slowly wound her way up until she finally came to a polished wooden door with a griffin-shaped brass knocker in the middle. She reached up with a trembling hand and knocked with the knocker. The door swung open, and Harriet stepped inside, looking around. The door shut by itself behind her.

However, Harriet was paying no attention to the door. Her jaw was utterly slack as she looked around the magnificent room. Everywhere she looked she saw something new and wondrous. There were several little spindle-leg tables with delicate looking silver instruments. All of the devices were making little whirring and popping noises and emitting little puffs of smoke. All along the walls were portraits of people Harriet took to be former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. They all looked to be asleep. Indeed some were even snoring.

She slowly made her way closer to the Headmaster’s desk. There were more magical instruments on it as well, though at the moment it was dominated by a large stone basin. There were intricate runes around the rim, and inside it was what looked like a mist so thick it was nearly a liquid. It was glowing too, swirling and flowing around. Harriet had just leaned over for a closer look when a voice made her jump and spun around.

“Ah, Potter, good, you are here.”

Harriet looked around to see a man standing in the doorway. He was holding a book and looking at Harriet with dark, calculating eyes. His hair was somehow wild in an organised way as if done intentionally, and he had a square jawline with a few days growth of stubble on his chin. He was wearing a white button-up shirt with a grey and silver paisley vest, charcoal tweed trousers and a matching cravat.

He started walking towards Harriet. Despite not knowing this man, Harriet didn’t feel the least bit nervous. In fact, something about his presence was reassuring. He looked sharp and clever, and somehow, very familiar.

“Y-yes, sir,” Harriet said. “Professor McGonagall brought me.”

“Good, just as Dumbledore said she would,” the man said.

He stopped a few paces away from Harriet and bent over, looking Harriet in the eyes thoughtfully from straight on, though they darted to the stone basin and back again.

“I would avoid that basin behind you at all costs, incidentally. The basin in and of itself is not dangerous but what it contains can have a devastating effect on an already emotionally drained mind. Most people’s minds are already quite full enough without adding the worries of another mind to them.”

Harriet had no idea what he meant by that ‘the worries of another mind,’ but she didn’t ask.

“I would like to ask you some questions… but your expression also says you have at least a couple of questions of your own that are probably nagging at you in such a way that will make answering the questions Albus and I have an awkward and uncomfortable experience. So let’s start by putting your mind at ease and deal with your questions first,” the man said.

He stepped past Harriet and turned, leaning back against Professor Dumbledore’s desk and looking down at her. Harriet was just about to ask her first question when a strange rasping noise came from nearby. Harriet turned and saw a peculiar looking bird sitting on a golden perch near the door. It looked as though it were half-dead.

“Oh goodness, Potter, watch,” the man said pointing at the bird. “You are about to witness one of the most fascinating events in the natural world: the death and rebirth of a phoenix.”

Harriet blinked. “The death and—”

Harriet was cut-off when the bird burst into a ball of flame and gave off an ear-piercing shriek. She jumped but the man’s hand rested on her shoulder, and his eyes were locked on the ball of fire, watching with fascination. The flames consumed the bird, which writhed in a way that Harriet found at once macabre and yet beautiful, almost as if it was dancing. Finally, the bird gave one last cry, and the flames extinguished, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ash in the golden basin beneath the perch.

Harriet blinked a few times before slowly looking up at the man. “Um… what just—?”

“I told you already, Potter. You just witnessed the death and rebirth of a phoenix. Have you never heard of the phoenix?”

“I… I’ve heard the name before but…” Harriet said, thinking of the Greek school that Scott had talked about the night before.

“The phoenix is a truly incredible bird, known in ancient mythologies across the globe. The Egyptians called it the ‘benu,’ in China it was known as the ‘fenghuang,’ the ‘fushicho’ in Japan, ‘kerkes’ in Turkey, and so on,” the man said crossing over to the pile of ash that had collected in the basin under the golden perch.

“Ah, and here he returns, come, look, look!” the man gestured excitedly to Harriet, and she nervously walked over.

Sure enough, Harriet could see the tiny form of a baby bird struggling out of the ashes. Harriet put in a hand to help, but the man stopped her, shaking his head but smiling.

“No, no, phoenixes are amongst the most loyal and faithful pets in the world. They’re nearly impossible to tame. In fact, only two tamed phoenixes exist in the world. One is the mascot for the New Zealand Quidditch team, the Moutohara Macaws, and the other is Fawkes, the very bird you see before you. Fawkes is loyal to Dumbledore and Dumbledore alone, and will only permit Dumbledore to touch him,” he said before turning and walking back towards Professor Dumbledore’s desk.

He leaned against the desk again and smiled down at her. “Now, I know you have questions, and I’m sure the two most pressing questions are ‘where’s Professor Dumbledore,’ and ‘who am I?’ Well, to answer those in order, Professor Dumbledore is checking on the boy, Justin Finch-Fletchley, in the hospital wing. As for myself, I am Professor Sherrod Howe, Headmaster of Rathlin School of the Arts and Magic, Order of Merlin: First Class, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Harriet Potter.”

Professor Howe held out a hand. Harriet blushed and shook.

“I-it’s a pleasure t-to meet you, sir,” Harriet said.

Professor Howe smiled. So far, Harriet had only heard rumours about what Rathlin was like. And now, here she was face to face with the head of the school. He was a lot younger than Harriet imagined a headmaster being. Though she supposed the only headmaster she had ever really known was Dumbledore. He also seemed a lot less uptight than Harriet imagined the headmaster of a school such as Rathlin would be as well.

“Likewise, my dear,” Professor Howe said.

Harriet smiled when a flash of light made her look past Professor Howe at the stone basin once more. Professor Howe looked back at it too and sighed before he turned and lifted the stone basin off the desk. He carried it over to a cabinet full of bottles and set it inside, closing the door.

“Now then, that little distraction’s gone,” Professor Howe said turning back to Harriet, “and we’ve dealt with your most pressing and immediate questions, I have a few of my own.”

Harriet swallowed. “O-okay, sir.”

Professor Howe smiled. Before he said anymore, he drew his wand. It was unlike any wand Harriet had ever seen before. It was very long, nearly two feet, and had an odd curvature to it. It was a familiar shape somehow, but Harriet couldn’t quite place it. He raised it and gave a little flick. At once, all the sounds ceased. It was as if Harriet was wearing the earmuffs that Professor Sprout had made them wear when handling the mandrakes.

“Ignore the silence,” Professor Howe said and gestured to the portraits hanging on the walls. “I dislike eavesdroppers.”

Harriet looked at the portraits, and to her surprise, although she had first taken them for being asleep, all of them were now looking a little restless. She realised now they were all only pretending to sleep. One was even trying to put an ear-trumpet in his ear to listen discretely.

“First of all, Potter, I want to commend you on very nearly completing Polyjuice Potion at your age.”

Harriet felt her heart jump straight into her throat. How on earth did he know? And did Dumbledore?

“H-how?”

“My suspicions that someone was brewing Polyjuice potion were first aroused only a couple weeks ago when I was visiting, and Professor Snape reported several ingredients missing from his private stores: boomslang skin and bicorn horn to be specific.”

Harriet swallowed. Had he told Professor Snape?

“Given the timing, I was able to assume whoever had taken the ingredients only had a few weeks to go until the potion was finished. In fact, I would say you’ll be done just about Christmas, if not Christmas Day on the nose,” Professor Howe went on.

Harriet felt even more uncomfortable. While Professor Dumbledore gave her the feeling of being transparent with his eyes, Professor Howe seemed to be able to make her feel that way with words.

“That, of course, didn’t tell me it was you until just now when I could not help but detect the barely noticeable scent of mustard coming from your robes. Fluxweed, a fairly common plant, though a critical ingredient of Polyjuice potion, is a member of the mustard family. The scent doesn’t come across very well for someone just handling the plant but if that person was grinding up the leaves to be used in a potion the scent is much stronger and can linger,” Professor Howe explained as casually as if he was discussing the weather.

Harriet shifted uncomfortably. Would he, or had he told Professor Dumbledore about the potion? How much trouble would she be in if he had?

“No, I’m not going to tell Professors Snape or Dumbledore about this. I wouldn’t have silenced the room if I was going to, I would have just let the portraits tell Dumbledore for me. Fortunately for you, I’m rather a fan of industrious snoops who’ll do almost anything to get the information they need or want. It builds intuition and drive,” Professor Howe said, his eyes twinkling.

Harriet blushed again, though this time it wasn’t quite embarrassment. In spite of herself and what had been happening, Harriet couldn’t help but feel a little proud.

“I… well… I am a fan of—”

“Nancy Drew, I would guess.”

Harriet blinked. “Um, y-yes… how—”

Professor Howe laughed. “Given your history with your aunt and uncle, it’s unlikely you had a television, so film or television detectives are unlikely inspirations. Also, you’re a young girl, just before her teen years. You’re more likely to look for inspirations of your gender and closer to yourself in age which would rule out other literary inspirations such as Poirot, Marple or the Hardy Boys…”

Professor Howe cleared his throat and raised his wand again. “Now that all incriminating discussion is over,” he flicked the wand. “We can let the old headmasters and mistresses in on the conversation.”

Harriet heard the room come back to life around her. The old headmasters and headmistresses in the portraits all jumped at suddenly being able to hear and gave Professor Howe very disgruntled looks.

“So, you have recently learned that you are in fact a Parselmouth, correct?”

Harriet swallowed and only nodded.

“An interesting talent,” Professor Howe said and nodded. “I also take it that you have heard strange noises, noises no one else can hear?”

Harriet was starting to feel hot under the collar.

“Y-yes sir…”

“Are you sure this was just noise?” he asked.

“How do you mean, sir?”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a voice you were hearing…?”

Harriet’s eyes went wide. How could he possibly know that? Harriet opened her mouth to answer when the door to the room opened once more. Harriet turned to see Professor Dumbledore finally enter. He looked distraught.

“Ah, Albus, there you are,” Professor Howe said. “That took longer than I expected, did something else happen?”

Dumbledore sighed gravely. “Oh, I got held up by Hagrid on the way. He gave me his account of finding Justin and Sir Nicholas, and also asked my permission to place a charm on his chicken coop. It seems he’s had another of his roosters killed.”

There was a moment of quiet as the two men looked at each other. Harriet didn’t know what to make of it, but there seemed to be a conversation going on wordlessly between the two men as they gave each other significant looks.

Dumbledore broke his gaze and turned to bend down and give a soft smile at the sight of the newly reborn Fawkes. He reached in and scooped up the young chick and carried him over to a small padded basket near the fireplace and placed the young bird inside it.

“So you got to witness a phoenix at the most miraculous stage of its lifecycle, Harriet?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes sir,” Harriet replied. “It was a little… er… alarming at first.”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. “I can imagine. Remarkable creatures, phoenixes. Quite remarkable. Hopefully, someday you’ll be able to see him in his usual form, beautiful flowing red and golden plumage.”

Professor Dumbledore kept smiling at the little bird. “Their tears also have remarkable healing powers, able to cure any poison and heal any wound. They can lift incredible weights, and can disappear and reappear anywhere when needed. Furthermore, they show great faithfulness to not just their owners, but also to others who show great faithfulness to their owners. What is most remarkable, however, is the fact they are the only creatures in the world to break the cycle of death.”

Harriet tilted her head a little.

“I mean to say when they die they are reborn, instead of staying dead. No one is quite sure how the process works as of yet, but Fawkes is the same bird every time he is reborn,” Professor Dumbledore explained.

The tiny chick gave another little chirp, almost as if in response to Dumbledore’s statement. Professor Dumbledore smiled warmly and gently lowered a long finger, softly stroking the little bird’s head. The baby Fawkes closed its oversized eyes and gave a quiet, dove-like coo.

Professor Dumbledore sighed and walked over to his desk. Professor Howe stopped leaning against the desk as Professor Dumbledore sat.

“Now, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said, studying her carefully. “I only have one question for you.”

Harriet furrowed her brow curiously, and Professor Howe looked at Professor Dumbledore a little sceptically, but Professor Dumbledore ignored him.

“I want to ask you if there’s anything you would like to tell me? Any little thing at all?”

Harriet’s head was starting to hurt. She felt like her brain had been run through Mrs Weasley’s laundry ringer back at the Burrow. She thought hard. She thought about the Polyjuice potion she was brewing and how Professor Howe had silenced the room so the portraits couldn’t hear them talking about it. She thought about how so many students were calling her the Heir of Slytherin. She thought about how just as many students were accusing the refugees of also harbouring the Heir of Slytherin in their number. She thought about Malfoy, about the things he’d said after the first attack on Mrs Norris. She also thought about Dobby, and about the voice, she had heard that coincided with Mrs Norris’ attack.

But as Harriet looked into those deep blue eyes, somehow Harriet just couldn’t bring herself to say anything about any of it. She was too worried about what other questions would follow, or what conclusions Professor Dumbledore might make. She slowly shook her head.

“N-no sir, there’s nothing…”

Professor Dumbledore’s expression did not change. He didn’t appear disappointed or upset. He simply nodded.

“Very well, then, Harriet, you may go.”

Harriet looked back and forth between Professor Dumbledore and Professor Howe before nodding. She turned and walked to the door. She had just reached it when Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Oh, and Harriet?”

Harriet turned and looked back. Professor Dumbledore was wearing a sombre expression.

“Please be careful.”