Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Twenty-Three:

The secret room

"Come on, Snuffles," Harry whispered urgently tugging frantically on Sirius' collar. He began running as silently as he could towards the corner where he'd just seen an unknown hooded figure disappear.

"We've got to catch him," he panted, "before he manages to escape again."

Snuffles let out a soft yet firm bark to assure him that he understood. Feeling his heartbeat pound hard and fast, Harry swung around the corner, his wand out and ready and ran straight into something tall, dark and greasy.

It was Snape.

Growling in frustration Harry tried to push the intolerable Potions Master out of the way. His effort however was far from successful. Instead Snape mercilessly grabbed hold of his robes and yanked him back with, in Harry's opinion, unnecessary force.

"What exactly," spat Snape venomously, "do you and your flea-bitten dog think you're doing running around the corridors at this time of night?"

His usual sour demeanour was nothing compared to the look of utmost fury written all over his pale face. Harry however couldn't care less about Snape's emotional state.

"Gerroff me you great bat," he snapped in frustration. "He's getting away for crying out loud!"

"What are you talking about, Potter?" asked Snape impatiently, his voice dripping with poison. "There's absolutely no one who's getting away with anything around here, least of all you. You've overstepped your last boundary, Potter, you mark my word. I'll be speaking to McGonagall about your blatant disregard for rules and curfews. Come noon tomorrow and I'll personally see to that you're packed, shepherd out of the castle and stowed away in a dingy compartment on the Hogwarts Express."

Harry began sputtering angrily but Snape silenced him with an icy glare.

"And yes I know you have special permission to be out and about tonight because of the meeting. However and please do correct me if I'm wrong Mr. Potter, didn't that meeting end more an hour ago? And do get that stupid creature to let go of my leg this instant or else I'll put you in detention faster than you can spell why? Honestly that mutt should be castrated!"

Snuffles obviously didn't care much for Snape's barbaric suggestions. Rather than let go of Snape's trousers he instead seemed to intensify his hold. Harry soon realized that he was trying to steer him towards a nearby alcove. Snape was taking angry swings at him but Sirius didn't seem to care much about the attempted abuse. In fact Harry thought it looked like he was enjoying himself immensely.

Protesting profoundly Snape was eventually pushed into the recess and once safely out of the corridor Sirius transformed back to his human form. Next Harry knew his godfather had pinned the professor unceremoniously against the wall.

"You grimy old bat," Sirius whispered venomously. "When are you going to stop taking your stupid grudge against James out on poor Harry and actually start listening to what he has to say for a start?"

Snape let out a loud snort and made to speak but Sirius cut him off.

"For your information Snapey, we've just witnessed a yet unidentified person wearing a suspicious-looking hooded robe cast the Locatius Spell and we were intending to follow this stranger when you stopped us. Thanks to this untimely delay chances are the dark wizard has already escaped the premises."

"Locatius?" Snape looked highly dubious. "Just now in the corridor? How is it that I failed to observe this seeing as I came from the direction you hoodlums were heading?"

Sirius advanced on the professor, piercing him with his most deadly glare. "Perhaps because it was you who cast it?" he asked silkily leaving no doubt about the fact that he wouldn't put it past him. Snape snorted.

"I assure that is not the case, and I'll be more than happy to prove it."

Brandishing his wand he cast a quick reversal spell that played back the last spells his wand had performed. The Locatius spell was not among them, but Harry found it somewhat amusing that Snape quite recently appeared to have used an Embroidery charm. A mental image of Snape engrossed in the making of a pillow of sorts, surrounded by stacks of threads and needles made Harry snort into his robes. He couldn't wait to tell Ron about that one!

"Satisfied?" Snape asked waspishly and Sirius nodded.

"For now," he replied evenly. "How you failed to see someone so blatantly suspicious-looking heading your way is still a mystery to me, but seeing as enough time has been wasted already, I'm willing to let it pass for now."

"That's the most sensible thing I've ever heard you say, Black," Snape retorted sounding almost hurt by Sirius's near-accusation.

"Shall we?" He beckoned for them to follow him out into the corridor and instantly Sirius changed back into his dog form. Harry swiftly followed them.

Purposefully Snape strode towards the corner where Harry and Sirius had seen the strange wizard perform the Locatius Spell. He once again whipped out his wand and muttered an incantation of sorts. Though Harry strained his ears he was unable to catch the words. But the effect he saw quite clearly!

A pale mist instantly appeared in midair. It swirled and circled and as it did so a myriad of different colours and shapes could be seen.

"What's happening?" Harry whispered awestruck, temporarily forgetting that Sirius couldn't answer him in his animagus form. Snape however seemed to have picked up his question and answered in his usual contemptuous voice.

"How pathetically little you know, Potter. Have you never heard of the Spellprint charm?"

"Oh, you mean the one that detects which spells have been cast here recently? I remember Dumbledore telling me he'd used that one on New Years Eve to determine what sort of spell the Dark Wizard Dobby saw had cast." Harry stared mesmerized at the still swerving mists above his head. "I didn't catch the incantation though, do you mind telling me what it is?"

He looked expectantly at the Potions Master. Snape let out a loud snort.

"I hardly think you to be mature enough to handle the responsibility of knowing such a powerful spell, Potter. With your track record for rule-breaking you're most likely to misuse it to your own advantage if I'm not much mistaken."

Harry protested loudly and Sirius fired off a string of very angry sounding barks. Snape however could not be persuaded.

"The Locatius Spell has indeed been cast here," he informed them matter-of-factly. Turning abruptly on his heel he began walking briskly down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked perplexedly as he ran to keep up with Snape's brisk pace. His question was met with a superior sounding sneer.

"I thought that would be quite obvious even for a brainless Gryffindor? We should try to find this trespasser, shouldn't we? I don't see any reason to have a sinister stranger lurking around the school grounds. We follow the trace of magical residue left after the Locatius Spell. That should lead us straight to him, don't you agree?"

Snape awarded Harry with his most condescending glare and for once Harry didn't even bother returning it. Greasy git or not, it was a good plan.

"We've wasted enough time," Snape barked as he whipped around a corner, brandished his wand and muttered the revealing charm once again. The same mist they'd just witnessed appeared. Frowning up at the swirling fog and muttering to himself Snape nodded and resumed his brisk trot down the corridor.

"Are you coming, Potter? If yes, then get your arse moving, and for heaven's sake get that canine companion of yours to stop growling, it's highly annoying!"

Half an hour later the odd trio had travelled up and down numerous corridors seemingly without any visible pattern to it. Harry was slowly starting to lose hope of ever catching up with the stranger, and judging by the way Snuffles' tail had stopped his normally relentless wagging he too was experiencing early signs of defeat.

Snape however had to Harry's chagrin upped his pace and was at this point almost running. The sight of his billowing robes and greasy hair bobbing up and down was starting to really annoy him and if their hunt for this mysterious hooded fellow didn't bear any fruit soon, he felt he might do something stupid. Like hit his hated Potions professor with a thorough Shampooing Spell or something like that...

"He's heading for the dungeons now," Snape breathlessly informed them.

"Marvellous," Harry answered with heavy sarcasm. Snuffles second it with a loud bark.

Their hunt continued for several minutes in and out of numerous dungeon passages that Harry quite frankly would be quite happy never to have set foot in. The further down they went, the darker it got and the decorations were honestly starting to freak him out. Who beside Slytherins would find skulls, mangled hands and hideous tapestries that depicted ultra violent battle scenes appropriate decor? And that was just some of the nice ones...

Whether Snape was simply used to this obscure form of art or genuinely liked it, Harry didn't know. It didn't seem to bother him one way or the other though, because he steadfastly continued muttering the Revealing charm at every corner, analysing the mist and then order them forward.

When they'd walked so deep down under the castle that Snape had to conjure up extra light in order for them to see where they were going, Harry for the first time felt that perhaps he'd made a foolish mistake in coming.

Remembering Ron's insistent claim that Snape was an untrustworthy prat he felt like slapping himself. For all he knew the former Death Eater could be leading them straight into a well planned trap of sorts. Perhaps it had been, like Sirius had suggested, Snape under the hood performing the Locatius Spell. It was very suspicious that he hadn't seen anyone when the stranger so obviously had walked down the very corridor as Snape. And why wouldn't he tell them the incantation to the Revealing charm? Perhaps because he wasn't really performing it, merely pretending to and thereby luring both him and Sirius to follow him.

Harry had just about decided to make a run for it hoping that Snuffles would follow his example, when Snape came to a very abrupt stop.

"That's odd," said the professor sounding genuinely perplexed. His curiosity getting the better of him, Harry peered around him and saw that Snape had stopped in front of a large wooden door marked "Cauldron depot".

"What's odd?" Harry's poor flight plan was momentarily forgotten as he watched Snape tentatively reach for the handle. "The Revealing Charm indicates that the caster has entered this room," the sour professor answered slowly.

"And that's odd because?" Harry asked uncomprehendingly, thinking about all the obscure places they'd been during the last couple of hours. This could hardly compare in oddity with that bright yellow cupboard containing hundreds of chamber pots that they'd searched no less than thirty minutes ago.

"Actually, it's odd for several reasons," Snape answered absentmindedly. "Firstly because I, largely thanks to Longbottom, know this room like my own robe pocket. Over the years I've had to fetch spare cauldrons for that bumbling fool every other day. You should really think he melted them all on purpose just to annoy me, because surely no one can be that clumsy, Gryffindor or not."

Harry silently fumed at Snape's unwarranted attack on Neville. "You were trying to make a point, I believe," he said icily. "That is until you began picking on someone who isn't even here. Not very professional of you is it?"

Snape sneered in response, muttering something that sounded oddly like "cheeky bastard" before opening the door and walking cautiously inside, his wand at the ready. Unsurprisingly the room contained nothing besides a huge amount of cauldrons in all shapes, sizes and conditions.

"See?" Snape said with a superior air that made Snuffles growl menacingly. "Nothing but cauldrons upon cauldrons as far as the eye can see. Why someone would risk their neck entering the castle under Dumbledore's nearly all-knowing nose only to waist his time on rooms such as this, does in my humble opinion qualify as odd indeed."

Harry muttered his agreement at this, but breezed passed the obnoxious Potions master none the less. He wanted to check it out himself before they moved on. Snuffles followed close at his heels, sniffing loudly in every direction.

"Secondly," Snape continued watching with a bored look on his face as Harry and his godfather upturned every cauldron in the room. "What's even odder than anyone wanting to spend precious break-in time searching this room is that the Spellprint Charm also indicates that the caster hasn't left it after entering."

Harry dropped the cauldron he was inspection in pure shock. It hit the stone floor with an ear-splitting clunk, bouncing several times before it landed painfully on Snuffles left front paw. He let out a piercing howl that Harry felt certain would wake the dead, or at least every Slytherin and Hufflepuff in the castle seeing as these houses had their common rooms and dormitories somewhere in the dungeons.

"What did you say?" he spluttered. Snape's lips curled in what Harry assumed were to resemble a smirk. "You heard me, Potter. Our mystery guest has supposedly not left this room, at least not the same way that he entered."

Sirius had by now transformed back to his human form, gingerly massaging his left arm. "Well, he couldn't have apparated out of here that's for sure."

"Obviously not," Snape said dryly, "everyone knows that's impossible."

"Then there must be some secret way out of here," Harry exclaimed eagerly, toppling over a large stack of pewter cauldrons in his eagerness to start exploring the walls. Sirius wisely leapt out of the way just in time to avoid being buried alive. Snape simply rolled his eyes and sat down lazily in a wobbly-looking chair by the door.

"By all means, Potter, knock yourself out and I do mean that literally. Never the less I assure you you're wasting your time. If there was a hidden door or passage here, I'd known about it."

"Why so certain, Snapey?" Sirius asked breathlessly, casting an ominous glare at his long-time nemesis as he relentlessly hauled cauldrons out of the way to inspect the farthest wall. "Spent a lot of time looking for rooms and passages in store rooms and cupboards, have you?"

"Hardly," Snape answered lazily, removing an imaginary piece of dust from his plain black robes. "Unfortunately though, I've spent far too much time in here, cleaning, dusting and rearranging cauldrons not to have noticed if there was a secret way out. There are standard ways to spot a hidden door if you know what to look for."

"Really?" Sirius said sarcastically with a wink in Harry's direction. "Then it's mighty lucky for Hogwarts that you're on the staff. I suppose you've sniffed out all the secret passages around here long ago and made that old grouch Filch seal them off properly, I gather."

Snape looked like he wanted to poke his tongue at Sirius, but to Harry's disappointment he managed to keep up his sour demeanour. "A fair few have been spotted, yes," he said stonily. "But I'm sure your precious godson has knowledge of one or two that I have yet to discover, taking into consideration his excessive tendency to break every school rule there is."

Sirius tutted disapprovingly, wagging a, by now, very dirty finger in the Slytherin's direction. "That's an unfounded allegation my dear professor," he said sternly. "I daresay Dumbledore would be very disappointed to hear you slander a presumably innocent boy in this fashion."

Harry had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud as Sirius and Snape continued to insult each other with growing cruelty. Snape maintained his position in the woebegone chair, blankly refusing to partake in their search for a hidden door or the like. Sirius and Harry continued examining every stone in the walls and floor, but without result. Half an hour later, Snape was wearing a most triumphant grin that Harry quite frankly found a tad scary. Sirius however seemed to find it aggravating, a reaction Harry assumed Snape was aiming for.

Though Sirius seemed reluctant to abandon the search (he had by now conjured up a ladder and was tapping his wand eagerly on every inch of the ceiling in a desperate attempt to unravel some way of escape), Harry had more or less given up. The hooded stranger had escaped again, and he far from liked it. Somewhere there was a way to enter the castle, bypassing all the security measures. It was a scary thought indeed.

Finally Sirius descended the ladder, a grim look on his face. "Not so much as a bleedin' mouse hole," he muttered angrily. Snape let out something that resembled a chuckle and Sirius looked fit to hex. Laying a comforting hand on his godfather's arm hoping to prevent him from doing something stupid, Harry's eyes landed on a very peculiar looking object on the wall opposite the door.

"What's that?" he asked more to himself, walking quickly towards it. "Don't even bother, Potter," Snape called out. "It's just an old and rusty candlestick. There's nothing magical about it whatsoever." Ignoring the professor's words Harry continued towards it, a strange feeling that he was on to something growing with every step.

The candlestick was indeed old and extremely rusty. It was quite ordinary-looking, almost unnoticeable in a way. Suspiciously unnoticeable, Harry thought with racing heart, reaching out to pull on it. Perhaps this was the way to open a secret door?

"It's no use yanking, pulling or touching it," Snape drawled, obviously tired of spending his time hauled up in the hated cauldron depot. "I've tried that before, and nothing happened then."

"Is that a fetish of yours?" Sirius asked innocently, wagging his eyebrows suggestively at the sour potions master. "Do you always feel the urge to yank, pull and touch objects of this particular shape?"

Harry heard Snape splutter in pure indignation while Sirius guffawed heartily. He then grabbed the stick and pulled gently. Nothing. He then pulled harder, but still nothing happened. Disappointment instantly flowed through him. He'd been so certain...

"I told you it was useless," Snape pointed out in his most condescending tone. "Shut it, stick-lover," Sirius retorted, casting him a maddening grin. Snape once again started to splutter incoherently, much to Sirius's obvious delight. Harry however couldn't care less about their childish banter. He'd discovered something that made his heart pump almost painfully fast...

It was a snake! It was hardly noticeable due to the rust, cobwebs and dust it had gathered through what Harry assumed must have been centuries of neglect. Obviously Filch didn't care much about the hygienic situation deep down in the dungeons. But there was no mistaking it. A small serpent was most definitely decorating the old candlestick.

Gingerly Harry traced the snake with his finger, removing some of the filth in the process. Feeling a pricking sensation of excitement and apprehension run down his spine, Harry let out a small gasp. He'd seen this snake before! Or rather, he'd seen its twin. Though it was almost three years since he'd stood in Myrtle's bathroom, looking at the small snake that adorned one of the taps, he was one hundred percent certain this one was identical down to the curl of its tail!

Sirius, probably having run out of poor slapstick jokes about sticks to torment Snape with, had approached Harry and was presently looking rather concernedly at his godson.

"You alright there, Harry?" he asked silently. He was screwing up his eyes, trying to see what it was Harry was staring at with such intensity.

"It's a snake," Harry said plainly. Sirius looked muddled. "Okay..?"

He turned towards Snape who simply shrugged and rolled his eyes. "I'm going to talk to it," Harry informed breathlessly and before Sirius had a chance to ask what on earth he was on about, Harry focused his every attention on the silver snake and began spitting out strange hissing noises.

Snape managed to exclaim "Parseltongue!" before a strange rumbling noise caused all three of them to stop dead in their tracks, looking around wildly in order to located the source of it.

"Look at the floor!" Sirius suddenly bellowed. Harry whipped around and the sight that greeted him, made his jaw drop. The stones were rearranging themselves at will, much in the same fashion as the entrance to Diagon Alley. But instead or forming an impressive archway, a steep and narrow staircase appeared, leading even further down below the castle.

Sirius immediately snatched a torch of the wall and used it to light up the upper part of the hidden staircase. "Bloody Bat, Harry, you found it! Good job, kid! What are we waiting for? The bastard is probably still down there, you know. Wands at the ready and follow me!"

Sirius literally leapt down the narrow passage, his boots echoing loudly on every step. "Marvellous, announce our arrival to the whole bloody school will you!" Snape hissed icily at Sirius's rapidly retreating back but followed him none the less. Harry brought up the rear.

Less than a minute later, Snape and Harry arrived in a very peculiar looking room. It certainly didn't look like it was part of the dungeons that much was true Harry concluded as he let his eyes wander around it. The ceiling was surprisingly high and a huge crystal chandelier marked the centre of the room. The floor was covered with a soft, green carpet and luxurious sofas and chairs in a slightly lighter shade of green were situated around an antique-looking mahogany table the size of a small Quidditch pitch. A huge fireplace and numerous shelves filled with thousands upon thousands of books completed the impression of having landed in someone's very posh sitting room. The only thing that was missing, much to Harry's disappointment, was the hooded betrayer...

"Well, he's not here, that trespassing scoundrel," said Sirius sourly, dumping unceremoniously down in one of the chairs releasing a very impressively sized cloud of dust in the process. "But by all things magical, this place is grand! It's a pity we never discovered this place during our school years. What a great spot to bring a girl!"

He grinned wickedly at Harry, making him blush scarlet. Even at a time like this, his godfather managed to squeeze in a remark about his love life.

Luckily Snape didn't seem to pay attention to what Sirius was saying. He once again muttered the Spellprint charm and the by now familiar mist appeared.

"He's cast the spell here," Snape informed them moving along the outskirts of the mist, studying it intensely. "We know he didn't leave the same way he entered, something which leads to the conclusion that there's another way out of this room."

"Obviously," Sirius replied in a striking imitation of Snape's patented drawl. Harry turned towards the bookshelves to hide his amusement, mentally noting to tell Hermione all about this place. He suspected she'd go damp in her knickers just thinking about it...

"Well, let's get cracking on revealing yet another hidden passage," Sirius declared, reluctantly leaving the chair. "And perhaps this time you'll be so kind as to participate in the search, Snapey, and not leave all the dirty work to us Gryffindors?"

"Naturally," Snape answered curtly. "It's not as if I particularly fancy spending more time than absolutely necessary in the company of you two dimwits."

"Oh you really crack me up, Snapey!" Sirius said sarcastically pretending to double over with laughter. "Such wit, such humour! Something tells me you were the clown of Slytherin in your youth - What the FUCK is THAT?!"

In less than a blink of an eye Sirius had run over to a large porcelain vase, and bent over to examine something on the floor next to it. Two and a half seconds later Harry and Snape were at his side.

"Is that what I think it is?" Harry asked quietly, his heart once again beating alarmingly fast. "It looks suspiciously like rat droppings to me," Snape said, wrinkling up his crooked nose and backing away.

"Wormtail," Harry whispered.

"Wormtail indeed," Sirius confirmed; the same haunted, crazed look about him that Harry had first seen in the Shrieking Shack two years ago.

"That bloody rat has returned!"

* * *

It took Harry close to two hours to fully recapture his nightly adventure to Ron and Hermione the next day. Inspired by the snake on the candlestick, Harry had suggested they hide away in Myrtle's bathroom and after some coaxing his friends had reluctantly agreed. Fortunately the room had turned out delightfully Myrtle-free for a change, and Hermione had promptly transfigured one of the lavatories into a spacious couch. Harry dumped down among the many comfortable cushions and couldn't help a small chuckle escaping as he mentally pictured some unfortunate prefect (preferably Slytherin) being secretly ogled by the miserable ghost in the Prefect Bathroom.

After sharing the highlights of the Order meeting, Harry began his riveting tale of the hooded betrayer. Ron had looked slack-jawed and disbelieving, Hermione thoroughly stunned when Harry finally came to the peak of the story, namely finding Wormtail's rat-droppings in the secret room. Their elation and excitement over the extravagant hideaway (Hermione had as expected looked close to ecstasy when he mentioned the numerous books) instantly turned to fury and resentment towards the spineless bastard who'd betrayed Harry's parents. In fact Ron let out such a long and forceful string of curse words directed towards his former pet rat, that even Harry felt mildly disturbed listening to it.

After the worst shock had worn off, Harry managed to calm his two friends sufficiently down to tell them how the nightly mission had ended. It had been surprisingly easy to find the hidden way out of the posh-looking room. In fact Harry had been almost disappointed at the cliché of it when Snape some ten minutes into their search had grabbed a random book and one of the large shelves swung open, revealing yet another narrow and dark passage.

They'd walked for ages, banging their heads on protruding roots and stones every other step. Sirius's torch had extinguished twice, and they'd had a hell of time lighting it again seeing as the passage was too narrow for any of them to perform the Inflamare Spell with the correct wrist and arm movement. Harry had actually set Snape's robes on fire at one point, something that made Hermione break out in hysteric laughter as it brought back some rather amusing memories of her own.

Eventually they'd reached the end of the passage, and boy had Harry been surprised! They'd emerged in the outskirts of the bloody Forbidden forest, and apparently not even Snape had been prepared for that one if the flabbergasted look on his pale and bad-tempered face had been anything to go by. Sirius had performed the Four Point Spell and thus managed to lead them out of the forest before they'd awoken any sinister beasts (though Harry could've sworn he'd seen the tail of one or two centaurs whipping behind a large mossy hill).

They'd emerged by the lake approximately three or four kilometres from the castle, something that according to Snape was well outside the Apparition-free zone Dumbledore had set up. They'd therefore concluded that the hooded betrayer most likely had apparated out of there by now and would not be apprehended that night. They'd trotted back to Hogwarts in sullen silence, and the rest of the night had been spent in Dumbledore's office retelling their adventure in great detail, guiding the headmaster, McGonagall, Lupin and professor Figg to the hidden room and through the passage.

"Do you mean to tell me that you haven't slept at all last night?" Hermione burst out in a very anxious-mother sounding voice. "I can't believe Snape didn't order you back to your dormitory. Honestly, the OWLs are just weeks away, and Merlin knows you need your rest to complete the revision table I've set up for you!"

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron broke in with uncharacteristic force. "This is way more important than any sodding OWL! We're talking about Harry's betrayer here you know! This is more or less a life or death situation if you ask me. A failed OWL never killed anyone as far as I know."

"But..." Hermione began to argue but Harry silenced her with a tired glare. "Give it up you two! I'm not in the mood to listen to your bicker all morning. And by the way, Ron's right. This was more important than me getting my beauty sleep."

Ron looked like Harry had just named him manager for the Chudley Cannons, and was all but dancing gloatingly in front of Hermione as they made their way out of Myrtle's bathroom. He was doing a very annoying, childish and not to mention high pitched chant of "you're wrong, I'm right" that seemed to be pushing every of Hermione's buttons. Harry knew it was only a matter of minutes (if that long) before Hermione would crack and another volcanic row would play out. He was not looking forward to it.

In fact Harry was about to excuse himself when Ron stopped the madness of his own accord. For a second he mistook it for a newfound maturity on his part, but Harry soon revised this notion as Ron let out a loud string of profanities that made several tender-looking Ravenclaw third years gasp in shock and indignation.

The reason? He'd just spotted his only sister snogging passionately with the insufferable Max!

Harry had to restrain himself not to visibly cringe at the sight. Ever since he'd seen them at it by the lake the day before, he'd been mentally preparing himself for a repeat of the heartbreaking scene. Clearly his efforts had not been good enough.

He felt nauseous, as if someone had wrung his stomach inside out just for the fun of it. And his heart, well his heart physically hurt, much worse than the Crucatius Curse ever had. It didn't matter in the least that he'd roped Eloise Midgen into a date. She was charming, witty and beautiful, everything a bloke could ask for. Harry could only find one flaw - she wasn't Ginny.

But his own heartache would have to wait. There were more pressing matters to attend to right now. Such as preventing Ron from committing first degree manslaughter...

"What the hell is that greasy Bratwurst doing manhandling poor Ginny?" Ron roared; his face beet red and screwed up in a very livid expression.

Hermione also looked a tad bit taken aback by the scene, but still had the presence of mind to grab hold of Ron's jumper. And just in time too, because the next moment Ron was wholeheartedly trying to launch himself across the corridor, his fingers stretched towards Max's throat. He did manage to get frightfully close to the couple before Harry snapped out of his daze and dashed to aid Hermione. Together they hauled a struggling Ron sufficiently away to secure the happy couple's health - at least for the time being.

"I'm bloody gonna beat that prick into a bloody pulp!" Ron screamed heatedly while desperately trying to wriggle out of his friends' tight grip.

"Ron, don't!" Hermione pleaded but he obviously wasn't hearing her. His screaming had alerted Ginny and Max to his presence though, and Harry watched with heavy heart as she turned her head towards them, let her eyes wander from her angry brother, to the slightly shocked Hermione before she finally locked eyes with him. For a split second Harry thought he saw an apologetic and remorseful look grace her face, but at the blink of an eye it was gone and she'd resumed kissing Max.

This seemed to infuriate Ron to no end and it didn't particularly help matters when Max cheekily arched his eyebrows in their directing, placed his greasy German hand on Ginny's bum and gave a cocky little wave with the other. In fact one should think a small bomb of sorts had just exploded in the middle of the corridor.

"YOU STINKING, FUCKING CHILD MOLESTING SON OF A FREAKING BITCH!"

With an almighty lurch Ron broke free and Harry and Hermione could little do but watch as a red blur sped towards the couple, profanities raining in his wake.

"MR. WEASLEY!"

The booming voice of Professor McGonagall suddenly echoed off the walls making Ron freeze dead in his tracks. Damn, he thought angrily. That tone of voice did not bode well...

* *

Ron had been whisked away by a very stern looking Professor McGonagall, threats of detention and owling his parents the last words Harry and Hermione could make out before they disappeared around a corner. Knowing perfectly well that McGonagall never let you go without a lengthy scolding, they made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. They didn't see Ron again until they returned to the common room later that night.

"Ten Sickles says Ron's in a foul mood," Hermione muttered as she and Harry stepped through the portrait hole. Sure enough they instantly spotted a very sullen-faced Ron slouching in one of the best chairs, angrily popping Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans into his mouth. They made their way over to him, both eager to tell the latest news. Ron however didn't give them a chance to even sit down before he began a very furious rant about the injustice his Head of House had just bestowed upon him.

"She's a heartless bitch!" he exclaimed hotly banging his fist against the armrest.

"Ron, language!" Hermione chided sternly but Ron just waved her off. "All I did was trying to save my poor baby sister's virtue from being totally ruined by that good for nothing German wanker, and what is the thanks I get? Detention! A sodding four hour detention and on a Saturday too boot. Can you believe that?"

"Oh no, not tomorrow?" Harry asked worriedly, knowing all too well what the answer would be. McGonagall never dawdled with punishments of any kind.

"Yes, freaking tomorrow!" Ron muttered, momentarily sidetracked by the appearance of a most unwelcome horseradish flavoured bean in his mouth.

"But then you'll miss out on the Hogsmeade trip!" Hermione exclaimed looking thoroughly heartbroken.

"Hogsmeade? This weekend? You're kidding me? Oh that's just rotten luck," Ron whined bitterly. "But why the hell are Dumbledore risking another Hogsmeade visit considering what happened last time?"

Still looking like someone had just handed her back an essay with only a 98 percent score, Hermione somewhat dejectedly launched into a recap of Dumbledore's speech at dinner.

"Apparently he's roped the Ministry into stationing no less than four Auror squads around the village this weekend. Seeing as Fudge still refuses to acknowledge Voldemort's return, Dumbledore sort of tricked him into this by convincing him that the Aurors could do with a practise patrol. In addition this will supposedly show both students and the villagers that Fudge cares about their safety by keeping the Auror division in sharp attendance even during peacetime." Hermione grimaced as she said this. "Fudge is such a dolt, don't you think?"

"Oh definitely," Ron answered sullenly. "But that doesn't change the fact that I can't bloody go. Damn, I'm dreadfully low on Sugar Quills and Chocolate Frogs. You two don't mind getting me some, do you?" He looked pleadingly from Harry to Hermione. "I mean, you two are going aren't you, even if I can't?"

"I suppose so," Hermione said quietly. She looked dreadfully disappointed Harry noticed, but then again so did Ron. Not surprising really, Harry thought with a grin. A Hogsmeade trip would be an ideal opportunity to finally pair them off. His thoughts were cut short by Hermione's next question.

"I'm almost out of parchment anyway. What do you say, Harry? Want to tag along with me to Dervish and Banges?"

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "Uhm, yeah I'm definitely going to Hogsmeade," he said awkwardly, fumbling to remove his jumper. Suddenly the common room seemed awfully hot.

"But I don't think my date will like it much if we spent it picking out parchment and quills with you. Sorry," he added quickly when he saw that Hermione's jaw had more or less fallen to the floor.

"You have a date?" Hermione asked disbelievingly. She looked really confused. "But I thought... I mean, don't you fancy...? And didn't I just see her... Who exactly are you taking?"

Harry had by now turned beet red. Primarily because it had been dreadfully embarrassing openly admitting that he had a date, but also because Hermione had come pretty close to blurting out her very correct assumption about how he felt about Ginny. Luckily though she'd managed to avoid dishing out any major clues and the one's she'd given Ron obviously hadn't picked up on. For the first time in a long time Harry actually thanked the heavens for Ron's denseness.

The dense prat himself did however look extremely eager to hear more about Harry's newly announced date.

"Yeah, Casanova," he said with a wicked look on his face, clearly savouring the opportunity to retaliate for some of Harry's many teasing comments about both Lavender and Hermione. "Don't hold out on your best friends. Who's the babe?"

Hermione demonstratively rolled her eyes and muttered something about insufferable boys, but Harry thought she looked just as intrigued as Ron.

Speaking of Ron, he was now leaning back in his chair looking quite smug. "No, no don't say anything! Let me guess. Cho Chang? You've been drooling after her for ages. Has she finally fallen for your many charms?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively making Harry blush deeper than he thought possible.

"Nope, not Cho," he managed to squeak out.

"No?" Ron looked somewhat puzzled. "Gone off Asian beauty, have you? Well, is it perhaps Padma Patil? She's quite stunning and not half as annoying as her dear sister." Hermione looked furious, but Ron was too engrossed in his little guessing game to notice.

"Or better yet that gorgeous sixth year prefect from Hufflepuff. You know the one with the long and wavy hair and legs that just go on forever?"

Harry shook his head mutely. "Pity," said Ron biting his lip and looking like he was pondering hard. "Ooh, I bet it's..."

"Oh for crying out loud, Harry!" Hermione barked shrilly. "Just say it already before Ron goes through every girl at Hogwarts chronologically from the most to least attractive." She shot Ron a disdainful glare. Ron just shrugged noncommittally.

"Her name's Eloise Midgen," Harry answered quietly feeling his cheeks heat up again. "She's a sixth year Ravenclaw that I met the other day. We got to talking and she's really nice. Before I knew what hit me I'd asked her out and she accepted."

"Who's accepted what?"

Harry almost had a coronary.

Sometime during their little talk Ginny had entered the room and was now hovering just behind Ron's chair looking absolutely edible much to Harry's dismay.

"Harry's snatched himself an older woman," said Ron proudly. "She's a sixth year Ravenclaw with a killer body. I got a good look at her in a very flattering formfitting robe at the New Years Ball. What was her name again, Harry?"

Refusing to take his eyes of the old and faded carpet he pretended to be inspecting, he squeaked out Eloise's name. An uncomfortable silence followed. Harry heard Ginny shifting her feet, Hermione coughed nervously while Ron appeared to be humming merrily to himself.

"That's nice," said Ginny finally and Harry willed himself to look at her briefly. Her expression was unreadable but Harry thought she looked kind of stiff and uncomfortable, almost as if the news didn't sit quite well with her. But then again he was probably reading too much into it. Wishful thinking and all that.

A few seconds later she turned and headed up the stairs to her dormitory. Hermione yawned widely and picked up her book bag. "I'm beat. I think I'll turn in early tonight. Good luck tomorrow, both of you."

As Harry trudged up the stairs a few minutes later, he felt not for the first time that he'd perhaps made a stupid mistake asking Eloise on a date to Hogsmeade...

* * *

He'd always thought it a shame, but today Harry felt it was virtually an Azkaban-worthy crime that there were so few Hogsmeade visits scheduled during a school year. The fact that they'd missed out on two weekends such as this after that unfortunate attack on Gladrags earlier that spring was now greatly bugging him as he walked next to a glowingly beautiful Eloise Midgen.

Harry chanced a glance at her and instantly blushed crimson when he realized that she was looking right back at him. Quickly he averted his eyes. Next to him he heard Eloise giggle softly and Harry couldn't help but smile a little too. He'd never thought this day would turn out this good, especially not considering how utterly dismally it had begun.

He'd woken up with a sense of dread, thinking that he'd made a very stupid mistake asking Eloise to accompany him to the village that day. Harry couldn't help but feel that he'd asked her for all the wrong reasons, something that made him feel pretty rotten indeed. This feeling had stuck with him all through breakfast and as he waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione and headed for the Entrance Hall where he'd arranged to meet up with Eloise, Harry felt certain he was going to vomit all over himself. Would it be terribly rude to cancel the date now, he wondered cowardly. Knowing perfectly well that the answer to this question was a thundering yes, Harry still seriously considered bolting for the door and hiding out in the Forbidden Forest until this bloody excursion was well and truly over.

Naturally he did no such thing. Five minutes early he arrived in the Entrance Hall nervously scanning the room for any sign of Eloise. She hadn't arrived yet but unfortunately the two people Harry least wanted to see had: Max and Ginny.

They looked ridiculously happy, their fingers laced and bodies sickeningly entwined. Why Professor McGonagall, who'd taken over Filch's usual task of checking that each student had the necessary permission to leave the castle, hadn't broken up the pair and set them both up for lengthy and separate detentions for such a blatantly amorous display of affection was beyond Harry's grasp. Surely this was not something the younger students should have to witness?

But McGonagall had showed no signs of breaking up the heartbreaking scene. As if sensing Harry's discomfort Max swept down on Ginny and began sucking at her lips like a starving person would attack food. It was the most stomach-churning thing he'd ever seen and without another thought Harry whirled around and headed for the staircase. He was just about to set foot on the first step when the sound of running shoes and someone calling his name made him freeze.

Eloise. He'd forgotten all about his date with Eloise.

After the initial awkwardness where Harry had stuttered out some lame excuse about having forgotten something in his dormitory, they'd headed out the doors with the rest of the elated crowd. Before they reached the gates of Hogwarts all discomfort had evaporated in the blazing sunshine and soon Harry had forgotten all about Ginny and Max.

Eloise was surprisingly easy to talk to and Harry soon found he was honestly enjoying himself. They bought a small basket of strawberries from a one-legged old witch and ate them in the shadow of a large willow tree near the Shrieking Shack. Later they went for a couple of Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks and Harry even helped Eloise pick out a birthday present for her little sister that they later owled from the Post Office.

Everything had been going swimmingly up until the point where Ginny and Max once again crossed his path. They were sitting on a bench outside Madam Puddifoot's sharing a large pink coloured drink and looking disgustingly love struck.

All though he fought hard to keep his composure Harry could feel his face flushing. His face undoubtedly betrayed exactly how he felt and when Ginny glanced up and caught his eye, Harry instinctively grabbed Eloise's hand that had been accidentally bumping into his own for the past hour or so. He heard Eloise gasp slightly and he quickly shifted his gaze over to her. Her smile was so broad and infectious Harry found himself grinning widely back at her. Although he didn't look he knew Ginny had seen their intertwined hands and as they walked up the street Harry felt her eyes staring at his retreating back making him feel both hot and frozen at the same time.

For the remainder of the afternoon Harry continued to hold Eloise's hand and as hours passed he got more and more comfortable doing so. It felt really nice holding someone's hand like this and it didn't hurt that the owner of the hand was both astonishingly pretty and great fun. It therefore felt quite natural for his arm to snake around her waist as they stopped to admire a display of silver wand cases at one of the stores.

His arm was still around her waist as they made their way back to the castle and it felt so nice he didn't want it to end. Soon he'd steered Eloise into a trail heading to the paddock behind Hagrid's hut and there in the shadows of the half giant's now empty abode Harry Potter received his very first kiss.

*

Back in Hogwarts castle Ron Weasley was not happy. In fact he was down right livid and in his own opinion he had some pretty damn good reasons for being so.

He was presently to be found in the Trophy Room polishing the blasted rewards and cups that seemed to be the bane of his existence. Dipping the stinking rag into a large bucket of polishing wax Ron sent a wave of very nasty thoughts to his Head of House. She was in all likelihood nursing a bottle of chilled Gillywater at the Three Broomsticks at this moment and Ron dearly hoped she'd choke on it, the old hag.

It just wasn't fair that he should miss out on the surprise Hogsmeade weekend just because he and McGonagall didn't see entirely eye to eye on the subject of what should be considered appropriate student conduct.

Just thinking about the nauseating display his only sister had partaken in with that German tosser was making Ron swear like an old warlock. To think that McGongall was condoning such behaviour was nothing short of unbelievable. Ron snorted when remembering the very heated "debate" they'd had in her office about said topic. Apparently there was nothing in the Hogwarts' rulebook that forbade students to snog in the corridors as long as said snog was conducted while fully clothed. That only confirmed Ron's believes that the rulebook was tosh and only fit to fuel the common room fires.

He was definitely owling his mother about this, Ron though glumly sending off another trail of oaths just for the heck of it. The Trophy Room was definitely not a place to spend a Saturday afternoon!

Three hours and eighty-three trophies later (he'd been counting!) Ron was dismissed. Fighting the urge to shove the stinking rag he'd used to polish the awards down Filch's robes, Ron left the room with a cold glare at the caretaker. Sadly he didn't seem to take any offence, quite the opposite in fact. Feeling rebellious (or rather just plain childish) Ron slammed the door shut and stomped down the corridor making as much noise as he possibly could.

His mood further deteriorated when he rammed straight into someone as he rounded a corner at a lethal pace. They fell to the floor with a loud bang, limbs entangled themselves and Ron felt a very heavy book bag hit him on the temple. For a few seconds he literally saw stars (and something that looked suspiciously like Venus's second moon). Massaging his bruised head Ron swore loudly.

"Dh'swuhruh," or something to that account could be heard from the tangle of limbs underneath him.

"Huh?" Ron barked irritably getting quickly to his feet. He was quite anxious to get back to his bed where he could properly mope and feel sorry for himself while he waited for Harry to return with a fresh batch of Honeyduke's sweets to ease his misery.

"I said don't swear, Ron," the limbs said tetchily leaving no doubt as to whom the offending book bag belonged. No wonder he'd been seeing constellations!

"Nice to bump into you, 'Mione," he said flashing a lopsided grin that he hoped would divert Hermione's attention away from his foul mouth. "I could however been without the heavy blow to the head. I see, or rather feel that you've taken half the library with you for some light reading. How come you're not in Hogsmeade by the way?"

"Very witty, Bilius," Hermione retorted a slight edge to her voice. She was already busy picking up the books that lay scattered all over the floor.

"Don't offer to help or anything," she added impatiently. Ron shrugged.

"If you say so," he answered cheekily and began walking.

A skilled lip reader would've been scandalized to see the profanities Hermione muttered under her breath. Luckily for her Ronald Weasley possessed no such ability. He did however hear her next words.

"Seeing as I wasn't too keen on going to Hogsmeade alone I decided to put in a few hours of research in the library. I had an Arithmancy essay I wanted to finish and it's been ages since I had a chance to do some leisurely reading. And you can stop rolling your eyes at me Ronald Bilius, because I think I might have stumbled across something important."

The excitement in Hermione's voice told Ron he was in for some breaking news and all eye-rolling immediately stopped. He quickly scooped up the rest of the books in one fluid motion.

"What are we waiting for? Let's get back to the common room so you can tell me all about it," he said breathlessly.

Hermione was smiling that annoying yet very endearing smile of hers which told him she was thoroughly enjoying having figured out something that he was dying to hear more about.

"You know what, Ron," she said mysteriously, "I don't think we should go the common room just yet. What do you say to a bit of rule breaking?"

Ron stared at her dubiously. "You are aware of the fact that I have just finished a gruelling four hour detention?"

"That I am," Hermione answered cheerfully, brushing her bushy mane away from her face.

"I'm not particularly keen on a repeat of that," Ron retorted bitingly. "Look, my hands are completely ruined from all that scrubbing."

"Don't worry, we won't be caught," said Hermione suppressing a smile. "And if we do I'm sure Lavender would love giving you a manicure."

Ron cringed.

*

Forty-five minutes later Hermione steered a sneezing Ron into Snape's very filthy Cauldron Depot. They'd been following Harry's somewhat flimsy road description and it was in Ron's opinion a bleedin' miracle that they hadn't gotten lost in the maze-like dungeons. He only hoped they'd be able to find their way back afterwards. He didn't particularly fancy being stuck in these dungeons for longer than absolutely necessary.

Though Snape had performed a series of very intricate Sealing and Locking spells on the room (Harry had told them so), it had taken Hermione less than five minutes to break each and everyone of them. For the umpteenth time Ron found himself utterly astonished by her enormous magical talent. When Hermione first decided to do something she did so with a flourish. Ron only wished Snape had been there to witness her cutting through his spells like a hot knife through butter.

Once safely inside the cauldron depot, Ron dumped down in a wobbly chair beside the door alternately sneezing and coughing like there was no tomorrow. Boy was he glad Gryffindor resided in a tower and not this dark and dingy part of the castle! This place sure hadn't seen soap or broomsticks for decades at least. Shuddering he removed the remnants of a cobweb from his robes.

Hurrah, spiders and Slytherins. This certainly is a pleasant sort of place, Ron thought sarcastically. Hermione better have some pretty good reasons for dragging him down here.

Speaking of Hermione she was currently hovering by a steep set of stairs that disappeared down in what looked to be pitch black nothingness. Seeing as Harry was the only known speaker of Parseltongue around the school they hadn't closed the secret passage and instead opted for Sealing the entire room. Hermione was studying the entrance with great interest, muttering to herself as she did so. Ron thought she looked absolutely breathtaking.

"So," he said curiously, watching with amusement as Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice, "are you ever going to tell me why you've dragged me down here? In case you haven't noticed this place is wrecking havoc with my sensitive throat. Besides, there are spiders in here."

She smirked at him. "I know," she said cheekily. "And I bet there's even more down there."

Ron visibly recoiled glaring murderously at her. Hermione laughed in a way Ron perceived to be purely evil.

"Ha bloody ha," he muttered sulkily only to be rewarded with more laughter. She was horrible.

"Don't be such a baby, Ron. They're hardly in the league with Aragog and his relatives."

"Doesn't matter," Ron answered weakly. "All spiders, regardless of size give me the heebie geebies. You better have a damn good reason for dragging me down here otherwise I'm out of here!"

Hermione clucked her tongue and shook her head. "You really are funny sometimes, Ronald Weasley," she said smiling at him in an odd sort of way that made Ron's heartbeat break into full scale gallop. Not really knowing what she'd meant with that comment, Ron simply shrugged awkwardly, his ears fire engine red.

Apparently Hermione hadn't noticed his blazing ears and awkward demeanour, and if she had she made no comment on it. Instead she pulled a small leather bound book out of her bulging book bag and primly flipped it open.

"Do you remember that the Prophecy of the Strinx mentioned that the heir of Gryffindor would be the one to defeat the Dark Lord and how we sort of figured that Harry probably was that heir?" Hermione said all this very fast and it took Ron a few seconds to fully register what she was on about.

"Eh, yeah I remember," he said curiously. "What about it?"

"Well," Hermione began breathlessly, "after that I sort of did this research on the Four Founders with emphasize on Gryffindor in hope of stumbling across something of significance. You really can learn a lot from history you know, and since it has been known to repeat itself I thought it would be useful to see if there was anything that seemed familiar. What?"

Ron was giving her a very funny sort of look and he had a very goofy sort of smirk plastered all over his face. Hermione felt her anger building. Was he making fun of her again? The guy was just so... insufferable!

Feeling slightly offended she began descending the narrow steps. Judging by the sound of things Ron was right behind her, all thoughts of spiders and the like seemingly forgotten.

"Lumos," said Hermione quietly lighting her wand tip. Seconds later Ron did the same. "So, how many books have you ploughed through so far, Mione?" Ron asked in what Hermione perceived as a condescending tone of voice.

"A fair few," she answered evasively giving him a cold glare. Ron guffawed heartily. "That many, huh?" You're completely off your rocker!"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh don't get shirty, Mione," he said quickly, obviously sensing her growing aggravation. "I mean that in a positive sort of way. Only you would storm off to the library and bury your nose in dusty old books just at the off chance the stuff you're reading might come in handy on day..." Ron ran his fingers through his hair making it stand out in all directions. "It's...well...extraordinary."

Hermione felt herself blush to the roots of her very bushy hair. Sometimes Ron Weasley would say the most unexpected - and sweetest things. He was a prat, but an adorable one at that..."

Feeling the need to deter attention away from her blazing cheeks Hermione brusquely continued her explanation. "Well anyhow this morning I was thinking about this room that Harry discovered..."

"You mean you were thinking about the books in the room that Harry discovered," Ron interrupted teasingly. Hermione pretended not to have heard him, the cheeky bastard.

The steps took a sharp turn left and she almost lost her balance. Ron however quickly caught her. "Thanks," she muttered and to her immense irritation her face once again flushed a deep crimson.

"Well, all of a sudden I remembered something I've read about Slytherin and Gryffindor. According to legend Slytherin and Gryffindor were not the friendliest of blokes to put it mildly. The reason behind their animosity is said to be Rowena Ravenclaw. Apparently both Slytherin and Gryffindor was in love with her and after much intrigue she chose Gryffindor. Slytherin did not take her choice in stride to put it mildly," Hermione added dryly.

They rounded another steep corner and Hermione let out a loud gasp. "Oh my," she whispered breathlessly staring transfixed at the magnificent room before them. Harry's description had not done it justice!

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed beside her and for once Hermione shared his sentiments. The furniture were extremely beautiful, the carpet exquisite and the chandelier were breathtaking. But that was nothing compared to the endless amount of books neatly stacked in row upon row of beautiful teak shelves. Hermione felt she had just died and gone to heaven.

She approached the nearest shelf and began tracing the back of the leather bound books with her fingers, itching to start pulling them out for further exploring. Before she could decide which book to start with a freckled hand grabbed her own and unceremoniously yanked her away from the shelf.

"Sorry Ms. Granger," Ron said sternly pushing her forcefully into one of the chairs. "You'd better finish telling me why we've just broken about a dozen school rules to get here. And please don't tell me it's just because you've run out of reading material."

"Right," Hermione said staring longingly at the shelves. "As I was saying Slytherin developed quite a nasty hatred for Gryffindor because he got the girl so to speak. He became obsessed with the idea of killing Gryffindor in the hope that with her lover dead Rowena Ravenclaw would turn to him."

Hermione snorted conterminously. "Typical male chauvinistic pig thinking! Naturally such a brainless ploy would never have worked. Honestly, if she didn't love him in the first place, I seriously doubt she'd be prone to fall into his bed after he'd killed her soul mate."

She was disturbed in mid-rant by one of Ron's patented fake coughs. He cast her an impatient glare, waving his hand for her to get back to the point.

"All right, don't get your boxers in a twist," Hermione exclaimed feeling slightly hurt by the fact that he didn't seem as riveted by this tale as she was.

"There was just one tiny little snag to this sick plan of his: Gryffindor was extremely difficult to kill. Legend has it that he was one of the most powerful wizards of his age and extremely adept in both magical as well as physical duelling. Slytherin knew he couldn't beat him in any form of direct confrontation and thereby spent years concocting a potion that would effectively kill his nemesis. The potion was of such high complexity that only a exceptionally skilled potion master could master it. According to myth the crucial ingredient was three drops of Gryffindor's own blood. By adding the blood Slytherin made sure the potion would only work on Gryffindor or a direct descendant. There is no antidote."

Hermione inhaled deeply before she continued on her monologue. "Fortunately for Gryffindor Slytherin was driven away from the school before he got the chance to test this potion. Rumour however has it that he hid the recipe somewhere within the castle for his ancestors to discover and use. To this day it has yet to be found."

Ron had propped his feet up on the table and was to Hermione's immense irritation munching on a Sugar Quill looking thoroughly disinterested. That boy was honestly driving her to the brink on insanity these days! And in more than one way a teasing voice rang inside her head.

"That's bloody f'scinatin' 'Mione," Ron mumbled between bites, sarcasm oozing from every syllable.

"Oh for the love of Merlin, don't you get it?" Hermione snatched away the by now half eaten Sugar Quill and tossed it to the floor. "Hey, that was my last one!" Ron cried indignantly. "You best pray Harry remembers to buy me some new ones or you're in serious trouble. And what exactly is it I'm supposed to get?"

"Don't you remember the prophecy, Ron? It said that a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor, his heir in other words, would be the downfall of the Dark Lord. Who do we think is the heir to Gryffindor?"

"Well that's easy. Harry of course."

"Exactly," Hermione said breathlessly. "Don't you see? Gryffindor possessed great magical powers, so great in fact that Slytherin himself couldn't kill him in the conventional ways. In all likelihood this trait has been passed on to his heirs."

By now Ron was starting to look quite eager. "Harry has so far bested one over the world's meanest wizard several times at the tender age of fifteen... Voldemort has yet to kill him and it hasn't been for lack of trying."

"Precisely," Hermione said primly. "The evidence all points to Harry being the heir to Gryffindor, doesn't it. But if the legend about this potion is true, then..."

"Then Voldemort may have found another way of killing Harry," Ron interrupted her darkly. "Poor bugger, never a moment's peace."

"I know," she said sadly her face mirroring Ron's glum expression. "According to this book the potion is said to be extremely difficult to brew and apparently requires the aid of a secret artefact in order to work properly so to speak."

"You think that's what Wormtail and this betrayer has been looking for don't you?" Ron asked and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I believe Wormtail has managed to find this place in his rat disguise and has enlisted the help of a betrayer within Hogwarts to search for both the potion recipe and this artefact. I suppose they believe Slytherin hid it within the castle."

"Wouldn't it make sense for him to hide it in the Chamber of Secrets?" Ron mused, one red eyebrow raised so high it almost disappeared into his hair. "I mean what safer place than a chamber guarded by a gigantic murdering Basilisk?"

Hermione shook her head as she walked over to the nearest book shelf. "No I don't think so. Remember the Basilisk was a weapon to help kill of Muggleborns. This potion is a weapon to kill his nemesis. He wouldn't want to hide them the same place just in case someone who wouldn't use these weapons found a way to disarm the Basilisk."

Ron sighed deeply pulling himself out of the couch. "That makes sense, I guess. Do you think he hid it here?" Hermione shook her head. "I highly doubt it, but I thought it was worth checking out anyway. This entire room reeks of Slytherin from the posh furniture to the colourings. I thought perhaps there might be some clues in here."

"Clues," Ron said with a snort. "Couldn't be more prescise, could you? It'll be so easy to find anything."

For the next hour not a word was spoken between them as they meticulously searched every nook and cranny for possible potions recipes, strange magical objects or mentions thereof. Regrettably they found nothing of interest, though Ron was unfortunate enough to step right into a pile of what obviously was more of Wormtail's telltale excrements. This did nothing to brighten his by then black mood.

"This is hopeless, Hermione!" he cried angrily, trying desperately to wipe the dung off on the plush carpet. Face buried deep inside a very tatty looking book Hermione tisked admonishingly.

"Quit that," Ron pouted sulkily flinging his tall frame onto the couch effectively enveloping both him and Hermione in a cloud of century-old dust. Hermione banished it with a lazy flick of her wand.

"We've look everywhere and obviously there's nothing here. Let's just leave already!" He dropped his head back staring despondently at the ceiling and wall behind him.

"It would've been too easy if we found something here anyway. Past history has shown that we're supposed to face imminent, life threatening danger and barely escape with our health intact before any vital clues are presented. I highly doubt this year will be any different."

Hermione snorted. "That is just stupid, Ron. The notion that there's a set of rules to how our adventures are played out is ludicrous."

"Don't scoff, it's just an observation that's all," Ron said sourly. "I'm sick of this room and all this disgusting green. I feel like I'm being slowly suffocated to death by Slytherin colour and décor and that's not the way I want to snuff it."

"Oh, all right," said Hermione impatiently. "I just have two more books to check and then we'll be off." Ron's stomach growled and he patted it lovingly. "Soon, belly you'll get your dinner and pudding."

"Honestly, you're talking to your stomach as if it was a pet of a small child. That's just sick."

"No, it's my poor stomach that's sick for lack of nourishment. Now hurry up or I'll leave you here."

Hermione threw him a maddening grin. "Sure, pad along Weasley. Ten Galleons says you haven't the foggiest idea how to get back though."

"Bugger," Ron muttered darkly. Hermione laughed her evil laugh.

Unsurprisingly it took Hermione an insanely long time to check over the last two books. Ron had never felt so hungry before in his life and the sound of Hermione turning over page after page was starting to irk him beyond words. To keep his mind of the rebellion in his belly (it sounded as though cannons were being fired in there!) he began counting the bricks in the wall. He'd counted as far as to the three hundred and seventy fifth brick when his eyes fell on a strange looking stone. Instead of the normal greyish colour this stone was of a warm brownish tone and upon closer inspection it looked as if there was something carved into it.

"Hey, 'Mione, come take a look at this!"

Ron leapt out of the couch walking around it to get a better look. Hermione abandoned her book and made her way over.

"What an odd looking stone," she said curiously. "What's that carving supposed to be anyway?" Ron leaned closer and yelped.

"Bloody hell! That's a snake! Do you think this means something?"

Hermione was biting her lip, her eyes bright with elation. "Serpents always have been Slytherin's symbol," she said musingly.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "but we don't speak Parseltongue. We need to get Harry down here as soon as possible." He guffawed heartily. "Hope he isn't too glued to Eloise's mouth. Five sickles say they're busy snogging their heads off right now."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed scandalously, feeling her cheeks heat up just by the mentioning of kissing.

"What? You mean to tell me you don't think he's put the moves on her by now?" Ron shook his head. "If not he's a right git. She's a looker that one."

Hermione felt her chest restrict painfully. It didn't matter that it was Harry dating Eloise and not Ron. Just hearing his appraisal of her was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Desperate to hide her reaction from Ron Hermione pursed her lips and snorted. "Boys," she sad with all the contempt she could muster. Ron simply laughed harder.

As soon has he saw that Hermione was not amused Ron sobered up. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly. Hermione simply huffed in reply.

"Maybe we don't even need Parseltongue?" he said in an attempt to steer away from the topic of Harry's love life. "Maybe something'll happen if we just prod it with a wand?"

"Ron, don't!" Hermione shrieked but it was too late. He'd already whipped out his wand and tapped the stone in question. He hardly had time to register Hermione's panicked outburst before the floor gave away under them and they plummeted down into an unknown abyss.

The floor returned to its original state seconds later effectively muffling their cries for help. The only evidence that anyone had been in the room was the two wands lying abandoned on the stone tiles.