human again / hp.

Chapter 32

The castle seemed quieter than usual, the heavy snowfall muffling the usual hubbub of student life. Christmas was fast approaching, and most students were preparing to leave for the holidays. But not us. The Malfoys were staying at Hogwarts, much to my mixed feelings.

I stood in the courtyard, bundled in a red-and-gold scarf, much to my Brothers dismay, watching the students who were leaving gather by the lake. Sleighs pulled by majestic white horses waited on the frozen surface, their silver bells jingling softly. The sight was enchanting, almost magical in its serenity, but I felt restless.

"Why are we staying again?" I asked Draco, who stood beside me, smirking as he watched the scene.

"Father's orders," Draco said, as though that answered everything.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course it's Father's orders. Did he actually give a reason, or is this just another one of his vague 'important matters'?"

Draco's smirk widened. "He mentioned something about keeping an eye on things. Though I suspect he mostly wanted to keep you out of trouble."

I laughed humorlessly. "Me? You're the one who stirs up half the drama in this castle."

"Debatable," he said, leaning back into the sofa with exaggerated ease. "Besides, the trouble isn't my fault. Blame Potter and his constant need to play the hero."

At the mention of Harry Potter, I raised an eyebrow. "Still on about him, are you? You're more obsessed with Potter than you are with Quidditch."

Draco shot me a glare but didn't deny it. Daphne, who just sat down next to me chuckled.

I turned to Daphne her cheeks flushed from the cold. "Your family's staying too, aren't they?"

She nodded, pulling her cloak tighter. "Apparently, my parents think it's safer here than at home. All this talk about the Chamber of Secrets has everyone paranoid but my Parents think that Dumbledor has it under control."

My Brother snorted at that and I sighed. The mention of the Chamber always left a chill in the air, colder than the winter wind whipping around us. Nearly Headless Nick and Justin Finch-Fletchley's recent petrification had the school on edge. And with Harry Potter's Parseltongue abilities revealed, whispers were louder than ever.

That noon, the common room was unusually subdued. The fire crackled softly in the grand hearth, and the remaining Slytherins were scattered about, some playing games of wizard's chess, others lounging in silence. 

The Slytherin common room, tucked beneath the lake, was quieter than usual. The absence of many students made it feel vast and echoing. The green light from the enchanted windows shimmered faintly on the stone walls, casting an eerie glow. I lounged in one of the high-backed chairs by the fire, draped in a deep green blanket that matched the house's colors, my Gryffindor badge hidden beneath layers of scarves. No one cared anymore that I, a Gryffindor, often found myself here. Over the years, the novelty had worn off, and my presence had become as unremarkable as the common room's ever-present chill.

I sat by the fire, watching Daphne unwrap an early Christmas gift from home—a box of expensive sweets from Honeydukes. She waved one languidly in my direction.

"Want one?"

I shook my head. "No, thanks for asking though"

Before Daphne could reply, the heavy oak door to the common room creaked open, and my brother and two hulking figures entered—Crabbe and Goyle, or so it seemed at first glance. They shuffled awkwardly, their movements stiff and uncoordinated. I frowned, studying them more closely. Something was... off.

"Where have you three been?" I asked, his tone sharp.

"Uh, eating," mumbled one of them—Goyle, I thought. His voice sounded strange, as though he were trying to force it deeper than usual.

"Typical," Daphne scoffed, tossing a chocolate into her mouth. 

The pair exchanged a nervous glance but said nothing. They sank into chairs by the fire, their faces oddly tense, their usual dull expressions replaced by something almost... alert.

I leaned toward Draco, lowering my voice. "Is it just me, or are they acting weird?"

Draco waved a hand dismissively. "When don't they act weird?"

"Fair point," I muttered, though the unease didn't leave me.

Draco, oblivious to my scrutiny, launched into one of his usual rants, this time targeting Dumbledore. "Father says the old fool is losing his grip. Imagine—letting a Mudblood like Granger run around the castle as if she owns the place. It's embarrassing."

The tension in the room grew palpable. I glanced at Goyle, who had gone rigid in his chair. His fists clenched, and his face turned a blotchy red. Before he could speak—or explode—Crabbe elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"Something wrong with you two?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N-nothing," "Crabbe" stammered. His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

I studied them both carefully, my mind racing. Their stilted movements, the strange tones in their voices, the way they flinched whenever Draco said something particularly cruel...

As we were talking about the Heir, Goyle asked "But then you must have some idea who's behind it all?" directed at Draco.

"You know I don't, Goyle. I told you yesterday. How many times do I have to tell you? But my father did say this. It's been fifty years since the Chamber was opened. He wouldn't tell me who opened it, only that they were expelled. The last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died, so it's only a matter of time before one of them is killed this time. As for me... I hope it's Granger." after my brother said this Crabbe rose to his feet and Goyle tries to restraint him.

"What's the matter with you two? You're acting very... odd." Draco frowned, narrowing his eyes.

"They're always strange," I interjected, finaly realizing that the duo infront of us was indeed Harry and Ron as I saw Crabbe's hair getting a red tint and a lightning shaped scar appear on Goyle's forehead. "Maybe they're just tired from all the overeating you mentioned earlier."

"Yes that's right it's his... stomach ache." 'Goyle' said.

Draco snorted, seemingly placated, but I watched the pair carefully and I exchanged a glance with 'Goyle' who was Harry signaling that their disguises are slowly disappearing. After this the disguised duo slipped away. 

Draco seemed oblivious, too wrapped up in his own musings to notice. I watched them go, my eyes narrowing.

"What's gotten into them?" Draco murmured aloud.

"Who cares? They're probably off to stuff their faces again."

I lingered in the common room for a while longer, my thoughts spinning. The attacks, the Chamber, Potter's sudden notoriety as a Parselmouth... and now this odd behavior. The threads were starting to weave together, though the pattern was still unclear.

Later, as I lay in bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, I couldn't shake the nagging sense that we were on the brink of something monumental. The castle felt heavier than ever, the whispers of the Chamber louder in the stillness of the night.

Potter might be at the center of it all, but for once, I wasn't so sure he was the hero—or the villain.

One thing was certain: the truth wouldn't stay hidden for long.