"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
Harry woke up, early, the first week of October to Draco shrieking like a bloody maniac.
"Wassamatter?" Ron mumbled from his bed by the door.
"What's the matter? What's the matter? I'll tell you what's the matter!" Draco was seething. "Your stupid rat chewed on my favorite robes!"
Harry put his glasses on and realized Draco was brandishing his robes in Ron's face.
"Why'd'ya need your robes at bloody six am on a Saturday?" Ron moaned, turning his head away from Draco. Scabbers poked his tiny nose out and twitched. Harry thought he looked awfully pleased with himself but he was biased, rats disgusted him. London was filled with rats and Harry hated them.
"Well- because I wanted to go fly before everyone got up," Draco muttered, his cheeks pinking up slightly.
Harry smirked up at him. Their first match was only a few weeks away on the first Saturday in November and Draco had been practicing nonstop. Even though he bragged to be a natural, Harry knew he worked hard to improve his flying.
Ron, suddenly awake, sat up eagerly. "Can I come? I wanna try out that broom!"
Harry had given Ron the broom he stole last year. Ron tried to pay him for it ('I don't need your charity!') so Harry told him he owed him one, no questions asked, favor. Ron, stupidly in Harry's opinion, accepted quickly. Now Ron had a Comet Two Ninety and Harry had the open option to call up any favor he wanted. It was a win win.
Well, mostly a win for Harry.
He climbed out of bed and staring gathering up his casual wear for the day while Ron and Draco talked tactics and tricks. Apparently Draco was already over the desecration of his robes.
"Are you coming with us?" Draco asked him.
"Nope," Harry said. "I told Hermione, Susan, and Neville I'd hang out with them today."
Hermione had came to him last week and had hemmed and hawed around different topics until she finally blurted; "I never see you anymore."
Apparently he was 'constantly with the boys' and his non-Slytherin friends were feeling neglected. It was a new feeling to have people around him who actually wanted to be around him and missed him when he wasn't there.
He wasn't sure if he liked it much or not.
Regardless, he told Hermione that today they would do something without the other Slytherins. Hermione offered to teach them how to fish. Susan and Neville had never even heard of it before and Harry never had a chance to try. Mavis said if they stopped by the kitchen that he'd pack them a picnic basket and answer one question of Harry's in exchange for being allowed to do so.
That elf was weird. But Harry liked him.
He got a quick shower, happy that he still got the first slot in the mornings according to Draco's new schedule, and headed to breakfast. The other kids wouldn't be up for a while but Harry was planning to read a new book Professor McGonagall lent him about proper defense while he waited.
He nestled into his seat at the table, idly picking at some fruit and coffee, as he read.
Professor McGonagall wasn't lying this was way more thorough on creatures than what Lockhart was-
"Harry!!"
Harry jumped slightly at the loud yell, "Bloody Hell Mione, what'd you do that for?"
Hermione gave him a sly smile as she sat down.
"Looks like a good book," she said primly.
Harry snorted at her obvious refusal to explain why she thought she'd start his day with a heart attack.
"You have been spending too much time around the Slytherins," he said accusingly. "Scaring people, acting evasive, what's next, huh? Are you gonna start calling us all insufferable morons?"
Hermione put a hand on her chest in faux-outrage, "Of course not! I'd never call you guys that. You're more like twitchy dunderheads."
Harry laughed at her drawling attempt to mimic Professor Snape. "Did you get the fishing poles?" he asked her, eyeing her empty hands suspiciously.
"Oh yes, my parents sent them yesterday! Thank you again for letting me borrow Sevvie," Hermione gushed. "I thought we'd grab them after breakfast, I didn't want to carry them all. Oh!" she gasped, "I almost forgot. I got the disc player for you too!"
"Yes!" Harry cheered. "Professor Snape said he'd help me find a way to make it work next weekend after the match."
"Can I help?" Hermione asked eagerly.
"Er, well," Harry hesitated trying to find a kind way to say it. "It's sort of like a private project... ya know, just for me and Snape."
He stared down at the table, his cheeks feeling warm for some reason, worried he'd offended Hermione. But he'd asked Snape about it after they talked in the owlery last month and Snape said if he got a disc player that he'd help him find a way to charm it. He'd also promised to retrieve his pensieve from his house and bring it back over the Christmas holidays so they could hear the prophecy. Snape had been finding different reasons to keep Harry behind after class- sometimes he helped him brew stock for the Hospital Wing and other times they just talked. Harry didn't trust many people, and finding out Snape was the spy that reported the prophecy had been a nasty shock, but he's also never lied to Harry for as long as he's known him. So Harry knew as soon as he had the disc player that Snape would help him just like he knew that Christmas break Snape would bring the pensieve to Hogwarts. He promised.
Hermione scoffed and Harry peeked up at her. She had a small grin on her face.
"Sneaky Slytherins and their secrets," she said in a teasing tone.
Harry grinned back at her, "Nosy Ravenclaws and their goal to know every single thing."
Hermione giggled at him and poured herself some tea. Harry let out a small sigh, relieved she hadn't been upset. He liked spending time with Hermione but he didn't want to share this project with her. It was... personal.
They sat and talked about their classes while they picked at their breakfast. Hermione told him how a boy in her house, Goldstein, had made his parrot turn orange in Transfiguration and how McGonagall had blown up over it. Harry told her how Seamus Finnigan in Gryffindor had actually blown up a cauldron in potions and Professor Snape looked ready to kill him.
"Susan and Neville are taking forever," Hermione complained after they'd finished eating.
"We can go get the fishing poles then meet them back here?" Harry suggested.
Hermione agreed, so they set off for the Ravenclaw Tower in a companionable silence occasionally broken by stray comments about the paintings they passed.
"That ones my favorite," Hermione said, pointing at a painting of a bunch of trolls in tutus on the seventh floor. "I used to want to be a ballerina when I was a little girl."
Harry smirked over at her, "You mean you weren't always obsessed with books?"
Hermione stuck her nose up in the air and sniffed, "Of course not. All kids have silly dreams when they're little."
Harry thought back on his dreams when he was young. All he remembered was vividly wishing for parents who hadn't abandoned him, relatives who didn't hurt him, and food that wasn't out of a trash bin.
He supposed it had been silly to wish for those things. It's not like he had gotten any of them just by wishing for it.
"I suppose so," he shrugged.
As they approached the Tower entrance Harry saw a group of giggling Ravenclaw students. He watched them suspiciously as Hermione murmured she'd be right back.
He nodded silently, keeping his eyes on the group. Something about them tugged at a memory in his mind but he wasn't sure what it was. He watched as they kept laughing and shooting unpleasant looks towards a familiar little blonde walking up and down the corridor by by herself.
Then it dawned on him. They looked like his cousin Dudley had looked with his group of friends right before they beat the hell out of Harry.
"Oh you're fucking kidding me," he muttered, seeing the girl wasn't wearing any shoes.
"Hey!" he called to her, "Where are your shoes?"
The blonde looked up and Harry was caught in her wide blue eyed gaze.
"They've run off," she said airily. "I'm on a quest to find them."
The other group started laughing, loudly and cruelly. Harry gave them a piercing look and noticed how they were whispering back and forth. He stormed up to them and gave them all his best 'Ten hundred points from Gryffindor for breathing too loud' look.
"Do you have her shoes?" he demanded.
One of the girls, a third year with almond shaped eyes and short cropped black hair, gave him a small smile.
"You heard Loony, they ran away," she laughed.
Harry didn't have time for this. He had a whole day planned with his friends.
Bring me that girls shoes, he commanded his magic.
The Ravenclaws fell into a surprised silence as two small pink trainers flew out of the third year girls bag and in to Harry's hands.
"Hey, are these yours?" Harry called over his shoulder, keeping his eyes fixed on the fidgeting Ravenclaw girl.
"You found them!" the blonde girl cheered. "Thank you Harry Potter!"
She grabbed her shoes and began lacing them up beside Harry.
Harry stared at the girl whose bag the shoes came from, "What's your name?"
The girl flushed slightly and tugged her hair behind her ear, he thought it might be a nervous gesture.
She should be nervous, bullying prat.
"Cho," she said softly, glancing over at her whispering group of friends.
"Chow?" he asked, deliberately misunderstanding.
Cho cleared her throat, "No, Cho. And you're, uh, you're Harry Potter, right?"
Harry gave her a Lucius Malfoy level of sneer. "Yep." He saw Hermione approaching out of the corner of his eye and thought he better make this quick... and quiet... Hermione could be really annoying when she caught him threatening people.
"You ever seen someone bleed from their eye sockets Chew?" he asked in a casual tone.
Cho's brown eyes went wide, and her friends whispers went silent. "N-no," she stammered, twisting a lock of her hair.
Harry gave them all a nasty smile, sharp and fierce, "If you touch her stuff ever again you're all going to. Leave her alone," he hissed.
Cho barely had time to gulp and pale dramatically before Hermione bound up to him, fishing poles in hand.
"Oh, Harry, have you met Cho? She's the seeker for Ravenclaw's Quidditch Team! I should have introduced you sooner, I bet you guys have a lot in common!"
"Mmm," Harry hummed. "No, I don't think we would. You ready to go?"
He turned away from Cho, intending to snag the little blonde girl and make sure she was okay, and instead saw that the corridor was empty aside from their group. He glanced around for a moment before Hermione gave him an odd look and ushered him away.
"That was rude," she reprimanded him as they walked back down to the Great Hall. "Cho's a nice girl. And she's a seeker- just like you!"
Harry waved her off, nice people didn't bully kids and steal their trainers.
"Hey what's the name of a girl in first year in your house? She's got blonde hair and big blue eyes?"
Hermione grimaced, "Luna? Luna Lovegood? She's the only blonde first year in Ravenclaw. Why?"
Damnit. Harry knew he should have just cursed Cho when he got the trainers back.
"Because 'that nice girl' Cho was calling her 'Loony' and stealing her stuff," he fumed.
"Oh, well, they're always picking on her. Luna is..." Hermione hesitated, "odd. She's always saying weird stuff."
Harry pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her, "I like odd people," he said simply. "And that's no reason to bully her."
Hermione nodded slowly, "I suppose you're right it's just... nobody really talks to Luna, ya know?"
Harry had a painful memory of being in primary school and having nobody to talk to. Dudley always told the kids what a freak he was and nobody wanted to hang out with the punching bag of Surrey Primary.
"I'm going to talk to her," he decided, holding open the heavy entrance door at the hall for Hermione. "I bet she's perfectly fine."
"Hello Harry Potter."
"JESUS FUCK!" Harry yelled, jumping about a foot in the air. The blonde girl, Luna, was waiting just on the other side of the entrance.
"Mister Potter! Language! Three points from Slytherin!" Professor McGonagall yelled from the Head Table, shaking her finger in his direction.
Harry shot her an apologetic nod, he wasn't really sorry though, and turned to Luna.
"Were you waiting for me?" he asked.
"No," she said in the same airy tone she's used every time he's spoken to her. "You were looking for me."
Harry glanced at Hermione, who mouthed 'told you so', and shrugged one shoulder.
"How'd you know that?"
Luna smiled at him softly and leaned in closer to him. "The nargles told me," she said quietly, as if confessing a secret. "They also said don't worry about the three points, you'll make them back soon."
Harry gave her a wary look, "What are nargles?"
Luna looked around the room, her eyes drifting from place to place. "Most people can't see them. They're very small and they tell me things about people. That's why they like mistletoe, you know."
Hermione cleared her throat lightly, "Nargles aren't real Harry."
Luna fixed her gaze on Hermione for a moment and shrugged, "That's why they don't talk to you."
Harry looked blankly at Luna's serene face, then Hermione's irritated one, and promptly started laughing.
"You're alright Luna," he said with a grin. "Wanna go fishing with us?"
Luna was already stepping away lightly towards the exit, "No thank you, Hermione doesn't like me."
Hermione huffed from beside him and Harry was still laughing at her look of indignation when Susan and Neville arrived.
"What's so funny?" Susan asked, already grinning in anticipation.
"Nothing," Harry said, interrupting Hermione who had started to speak. "You guys ready to go catch a mermaid?"
"I'm aiming for the Giant Squid," Neville said with a serious tone. "If I don't catch the Squid then I'm going to drown Hermione."
Susan and Harry laughed while Hermione tried, and failed, to glare at him.
"I hope you catch nothing Neville Frank Longbottom," she said with a teasing curl to her lips.
"If we don't catch anything is it our fault for being bad at fishing or yours for being bad at teaching us?" Susan asked.
Hermione faltered in her step for a moment before decided declaring that everyone was going to catch at least something... or else.
***
At dinner that night Harry was listening as Susan excitedly explained fishing to the Slytherins sitting with them. None of the pureblood boys understood why it would be a hobby for Muggles.
"Why not just grab the fish?" Ron asked with his nose scrunched.
"Because they can swim away," Hermione explained (again) to him.
"Why didn't you guys just summon them?" Blaise asked.
"Because then it would have been pointless to be fishing."
Nobody had anything to say to that, which basically explained the boys' opinions on fishing. Privately Harry agreed with them. Fishing by yourself would be boring. But fishing while your friends splashed each other and laughed at the confused Hogwarts students and staff had been fun.
"Oh hey, I'll meet you guys in dorm..." Harry said, abruptly excusing himself. He saw Professor Snape leaving the Head Table and wanted a chance to ask him about the disc player.
"Professor!" he called, waving Snape down in the corridor. "Wait please!"
Snape stopped where he was and turned to face Harry with a small smile in place.
"Mister Potter," he greeted him. "How are you?"
"Fine, thanks, hey I've got the disc player! Can we still fix it together?" Harry asked quickly.
"Of course, I told you we would," Snape replied easily. "How were you able to procure the player? I did not believe Muggle stores accept owl orders."
Harry grinned, "Hermione. She wrote to her parents and asked them for one."
"Aah, simple yet elegant. Excellent, do you have plans Friday afternoon?"
Harry was about to tell him that he had Quidditch practice when Professor Flitwick walked up to them.
"Mister Potter! There you are!" he said in his squeaky voice. "I've been looking for you all afternoon!"
Harry took a small step away from Flitwick, towards Snape. "Why, sir?" He glanced up at Snape, who looked bemused, "I haven't done anything..."
Flitwick chuckled and gave him an amused look. "So it was not this Harry Potter who threatened a group of my students this morning?"
I definitely should have cursed Cho. Snitch.
Harry cleared his face, hoping he wasn't about to be expelled or something horrible for it.
"I don't know sir, I've had a busy day," he said evasively. Flitwick didn't look angry, but why would he be chuckling?
Flitwick leaned closer to Harry and grinned. Harry had never been more aware of the Professors Goblin ancestry. His sharp smile resembled Griphooks very closely.
"Busy day defending first years from bullying?"
Harry shrugged one shoulder, his neck feeling suddenly hot.
"I'm sorry sir," he said. Apologies were a good way to go if you didn't know what someone wanted from you.
Flitwick straightened himself back up and looked up at Snape. "If Mister Potter ever tires of you I will convince the Sorting Hat to place him in my house. Fair warning."
Harry gaped as the short Professor walked away.
"Oh, Mister Potter," he called back suddenly. "10 points to Slytherin."
"I-I have no idea what just happened," Harry confessed to Snape. "Did I just get points for threatening a student?" At Snape's silently raised brow Harry hastily added, "Not that I'm saying I did that."
"Hmm," Snape furrowed his brows slightly as he thought. "I imagine that if you had threatened a student in defense of another, especially in an incidence such as bullying, Filius would feel inclined to reward you."
"Huh," Harry said. "Oh wow, okay. Brill." He thought of Luna and remembered how the nargles had told her Harry would earn back the points McGonagall took.
"Hey sir?" he asked Snape. "Are there creatures that are invisible and can see the future?"
Snape snorted, effectively answering his question.
"If there are I would kindly request you not to bring them in to the castle," he said drily. "I shudder to think of the chaos you would sow."
Harry gave him a wicked grin, mentally planning on finding Luna to ask her about nargles his next free day.
Snape grinned back for a moment before abruptly turning serious. "Where are you headed?"
Harry rolled his eyes, knowing where this was going. "Common room, sir."
"Come along then," Snape said, gesturing towards the dungeons. "Walk and talk with me Potter."
Harry huffed but followed behind obediently. Snape had done this at least three times a week and Harry had no further idea of what he was doing. He would just find Harry in the halls, ask him to walk with him, and then ask him about his day. It was weird. Especially since Snape would walk with Harry in directions that he knew the man hadn't previously been headed- like the Quidditch pitch one morning.
"How was your 'busy day'?" Snape asked, predictably.
"Fine, I went fishing."
Snape paused in his step, turning his head and giving Harry a curious look. "Oh? Why did you go fishing?"
Harry huffed at Snape's other new weird thing. 'Why' questions constantly.
'Why didn't you eat much at supper?', 'Why is your shirt untucked?' 'Why did you sit beside Nott instead of Bones this morning?'
Bloody weird.
"Because Mione wanted to go," he said a little more shortly than he usually would. "So we went."
Snape hummed as they walked down towards the Slytherin dorms.
"Was it just you and Miss Granger?"
"Nope. Neville and Susan came too."
"Where were your other friends?" Snape asked as they descended the back stairs. Harry didn't mind so much following behind Snape, the man knew a lot of private staircases and corridors.
"I dunno. Mione said she missed me so I said I'd go with just her and the other non Slytherin kids."
"Aah, an admirable sentiment from a friend," Snape said casually.
"I guess so," Harry mumbled.
Snape gave him a puzzled look. "Was it not a nice sentiment?"
Harry shrugged, "It was," he said slowly. "It was just weird to hear, you know?"
Snape paused by one of the large windows that looked out level with the grounds.
"I imagine you haven't heard that much before," he mused aloud.
Harry leaned against the wall, looking out the window, in no rush to return to the still empty dorm.
"There wasn't really anyone to miss me before," he said with an ironic quirk to his lips. "So it's just weird to hear."
Snape lent against the wall as well, following Harry's gaze out the window.
"How did it make you feel to hear it from Miss Granger?"
"W-what?" Harry sputtered looking at Snape quickly. "What does that even mean?"
He was surprised to see Snape's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. Was he... blushing? He certainly looked uncomfortable as he cleared his throat and looked away from Harry.
"What is going on with you?" Harry asked, exasperated. "You're being fucking weird lately, sir."
Snape looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Potter you cannot add a title of respect to the end of a disrespectful statement and expect me not to admonish you for it."
"Okaaaay," Harry said, drawing the word out slowly. "But will you answer my question after you admonish me?"
Snape sighed again, still looking upwards. "How am I 'being fucking weird' Potter?"
Harry thought that Snape knew what he meant but had no problem spelling it out for him either.
"Talking to me so much and asking about my day all the time," he said with a scowl. "Now you want to know about my feelings?" "This! This is exactly why Potter!" Snape said, looking down at Harry now. "It should not be 'weird' for someone to routinely ask you how your day is or what you are feeling."
"I mean, that's nice of you... I suppose? But-"
"But nothing!" Snape cried, clearly warming up to the subject. "You should not think that I am 'nice' because I am treating you the way you should have always been treated- with basic care and respect."
Harry edged away from him and glanced warily down the corridor ensuring they were still alone.
"This- this isn't about... about... what I showed you, right? Because I told you I don't wanna talk about that..." Harry muttered, avoiding looking at the Professor. "I just wanted to be friends."
Harry looked down at his trainers and scuffed the floor with the toe of them.
Snape was quiet for a long moment but Harry refused to look up at him. He'd already embarrassed himself enough. There was only so much weakness he was willing to look in front of someone.
Usually that amount was zero, but Snape had shared a lot with him and sometimes... sometimes he liked talking to him.
"Friends care about each other's feelings," Snape said quietly. "And although I understand your reluctance to discuss your past, it is still trauma that affects your mental health today."
Harry recognized enough of what he was saying to scowl heavily at the man.
"I am not mad," he hissed. "I don't need you to worry about my 'mental health'." Harry scoffed, irritated and uncomfortable by the conversation.
Snape matched his scowl.
"What should I be worried about then?" Snape asked tersely.
"Disc players," Harry said quickly, hoping to turn the conversation back to a normal topic. "You should worry about how to make a Muggle disc player work with magic."
Snape's scowl softened and he rolled his eyes.
"Fine," he sighed. "What are your plans Friday evening?"
"Quidditch practice. Flint's making us practice almost every evening until the first game after Halloween."
Snape got that odd manic gleam he got sometimes when Quidditch came up.
"Very well, we can work on it the weekend after Halloween?"
Harry nodded and grinned at him, "Brill, sir." Then he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he studied Snape. "But- no 'feelings' or weird stuff- right? Just... just disc player talk?"
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he agreed.
"We will not speak about your feelings."
Harry turned to head towards his dorm when he hesitated for a moment.
"Sir?" he called back to Snape, giving him a nervous look over his shoulder.
"Yes Potter?"
"You c-can still ask about m-my day sometimes... if you want," he mumbled.
Harry took off before Snape could respond.
***
On Halloween morning Harry woke up feeling the same feeling of apathy that he had last year. He picked at his breakfast and idly wished that there was another troll this year he could fight.
Instead, he was faced with a day of classes followed by a feast for the occasion.
Which was basically the opposite of what he wanted to do today.
Harry was still poking at his food when Theo, who had been excitedly explaining the history of Samhain to the rest of the group, went quiet. Harry looked up and saw Luna Lovegood standing beside their table, gazing around the room dreamily.
"Hey Luna," he said. "What's up?"
"Hello Harry Potter, and Harry Potter's friends," she nodded at the rest of them. "I wondered if you wanted to go to a party with me tonight?"
Harry frowned at Hermione, who raised both her brows back at him. So clearly not a Ravenclaw specific party then.
"What party?" he asked Luna.
Luna smiled at him, and he quite liked her smile. It was happy and uncomplicated.
"A Death Day Party," she said. "The Grey Lady is going and said I should come. I think she feels sorry for me you know, since I don't have any friends. But I knew you needed something to do tonight and thought you should come as well."
The rest of his friends gaped at Luna, shocked by her unflinching honesty. But Harry liked it. Luna didn't hide what she was thinking or doing, even if it made everyone else uncomfortable, and it made her more trustworthy.
"Sure," he agreed. "I don't know what a Death Day Party is but it sounds interesting if there will be ghosts there."
"Wonderful." Luna was already dancing away from the table. "I'll meet you and Susan at the Ravenclaw Tower at six thirty then."
She left and Harry smiled after her. He wondered if Luna would want to join his gang. Between her honesty, her need for friends to protect her, and what Harry is starting to think is her connection to future seeing invisible creatures- she'd be an excellent addition.
"Who... in Merlin's name... was that?" Draco said slowly. "She's so-"
Harry cut him off before he had a chance to finish with a sneer.
"Her name is Luna and she's brilliant," he said coldly. "And if you say one bloody word about her I'll make cutting you open an annual tradition."
Draco paled and shook his head. "I- I was going to say she's different but I like her. She's a Ravenclaw right? So she must be smart."
Ron snorted beside Draco, apparently seeing through his lies as easily as Harry did.
"Right," he said. "I'm sure that's what you were going to say."
Susan clapped her hands together beside Harry, interrupting the (yet again) impending argument between the two Slytherin boys.
"So!" she said cheerfully. "I guess we're going to a party?"
Harry gave her a small grin, Luna had explicitly said that Susan was going.
"I guess we are."
At half past six, Harry, Susan, and Luna walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead back toward the dungeons.
The passageway leading to the Death Day party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was far from cheerful: These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. Harry shivered and cast a warming charm on the three of them, the dungeons were colder than usual right now.
They turned a corner and saw the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.
"My dear friends, the Grey Lady said you would be joining us," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome... so pleased you could come..."
He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.
It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.
"Luna," Susan said, gawking at the hundreds of ghosts. "What exactly is a Death Day party?"
Luna drifted further in the room as she answered.
"Today is the anniversary of Sir Nicholas' death," she said. "And so he is having a party to celebrate."
Susan said "Ugh," just as Harry said "Brill."
"Shall we introduce ourselves?" Luna suggested, drifting further away from Harry who was easily able to track her through the translucent ghosts.
"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Susan nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Harry wasn't surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.
Luna stopped and talked to each one. Introducing herself and asking them how they died. Harry thought they may be offended at first but most of them, the silent Baron aside, seemed quite eager to share their stories.
"Oh look" said Luna, turning to the side abruptly. "There's Myrtle." She waved at a ghost of a teenage girl who had round glasses and apparently died with acne.
"Who?" said Harry as they walked towards the ghost.
"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the first floor," said Susan.
"She haunts a toilet?"
"Yes. It's been out of order all year because she keeps flooding the place. I never went in there anyway; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you."
Harry choked on a laugh as they approached the girl, Myrtle.
"Hello Myrtle."
Myrtle looked up as Luna approached.
"Oh, it's you," she sighed. Then she caught Harry and Susan approaching as well, "You have friends now?"
"Yes," Susan said firmly. "She does."
There were times like this that Harry thought Susan's fierce loyalty was her best quality. If she said Luna was her friend then Luna had likely just found a friend for life.
"That's nice," Myrtle said, in a tone that said she thought it was anything but nice. "I'll miss you visiting me then."
Luna smiled up at her, completely relaxed in the ghosts' presence.
"I'll still come visit," she reassured her. "I enjoy our screaming sessions we've had."
Harry wasn't sure how a 'screaming session' would be fun but Myrtle perked up at her response.
"Will you tell us how you died?" Luna asked politely. "The other ghosts have been sharing their stories but I'm sure yours is much more interesting."
Myrtle managed to get an excited gleam in her eyes- a real feat considering she was dead- and straightened her robes, which Harry was surprised to see were encrusted with the Hogwarts insignia.
"Oh yes," she said eagerly, "it was horrible! I was in the bathroom, crying, and-"
They didn't get to find out what happened next as the orchestra stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in expectation, as a hunting horn sounded.
"Oh, here we go," they heard Nearly Headless Nick sigh bitterly.
Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly.
The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.
"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"
He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.
"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.
"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Susan, and Luna and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).
"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.
"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say — look at the fellow —"
"I think Sir Nicholas is very frightening," Luna said serenely. "I wonder if his killer was too scared of him to actual chop off his head."
Nick gave Luna a bright smile before striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.
"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick loudly. "My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow..."
"But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd was turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.
"Do you think Mavis would make us dinner?" Susan whispered as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.
"Probably," Harry agreed.
"Ooh, can I meet him?" Luna asked excitedly.
"Course you can," Harry told her. "Let's go."
They backed toward the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later were hurrying back up the passageway full of black candles.
Susan led the way toward the steps to the entrance hall where they could duck down to the kitchens.
And then Harry heard it.
". . . rip . . . tear . . . kill . . ."
He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.
"Harry, what're you — ?"
Harry looked incredulously at the two girls.
"You don't... you don't hear anything?" he asked carefully. "You can't hear that voice?"
Susan shook her head fearfully while Luna just hummed.
"It's hard to hear other voices over the nargles telling me about Professor Snape," she said.
". . . soo hungry . . . for so long . . ."
"Listen!" said Harry urgently.
Susan, watched him carefully, her teal eyes wide.
"I don't hear anything," she said softly. "Are you feeling alright?"
". . . kill . . . time to kill . . ."
The voice was growing fainter. Harry was sure it was moving away — moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward? Was it a phantom, to whom stone ceilings didn't matter?
"This way," he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Susan and Luna clattering behind him.
"Harry, what're we —"
"SHH!"
Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: "...I smell blood... SMELL BLOOD!"
His stomach lurched —
"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Susan's bewildered face, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps —
Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Susan and Luna right behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry, would you like to find Professor Snape?" Luna asked quietly.
But Susan gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.
"Look!"
Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped — there was a large puddle of water on the floor; Susan grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it.
All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash.
Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.
For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Susan said, "Let's get out of here."
But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.
The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry, Susan, and Luna stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.