human again / hp.

Chapter 36

The air in the common room was thick with anxiety. The usual chatter of students had been replaced with an eerie silence. No one seemed to know how to process the new reality we were facing. The tension was palpable, a mixture of fear and uncertainty hanging in the air like a cloud.

We had all heard the rumors—the whispers of danger, of the Chamber of Secrets, and the terror that came with it. Then Hermione was petrified, and the Quidditch season had been canceled. Now, Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room, her stern gaze sweeping over us all, her presence demanding attention.

"Could I have your attention, please?" she began, her voice firm and unwavering.

We all fell silent, knowing that whatever came next was going to change things, probably for the worse.

"Because of recent events, these new rules will be put into effect immediately." She unrolled a piece of parchment and began reading off of it.

"All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock every evening. All students will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No exceptions."

A murmur rippled through the room at that, some students exchanging uneasy glances. We were all so used to roaming the halls freely, and now that freedom was being stripped away.

McGonagall continued, setting the parchment aside. "I should tell you this: unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will be closed."

A cold shiver ran down my spine at that last sentence. Closed. That would mean leaving Hogwarts—the one place I'd finally started to feel like I belonged.

Professor McGonagall gave one last sweeping look around the room before turning to leave. The moment she was gone, the quiet conversation started up again, but there was no denying the worry on everyone's face.

I stood up slowly, feeling the weight of her words hanging in the air. I couldn't help but glance over at the fireplace where Harry and Ron were talking in hushed tones. I've been talking to them a bit more since Harry confronted me and after I have read the letters, at first Ron was a bit cold to me but after a few days he warmed up to me again. But still, I had a role to play, one that was being carved out for me whether I liked it or not.

The murmurs started almost immediately. Worry, fear, and speculation buzzed through the crowd, but I slipped out quietly, not ready to join in. I needed air—or at least a change of scenery.

I entered the Great Hall, the noise and chatter of the students filling the room like a dull roar. The long tables were lined with students from each house, some looking disheartened, others just plain anxious. I made my way through the Gryffindor side, trying not to draw too much attention, and found my way over to the Slytherin table.

Daphne Greengrass was seated near the middle of the table, and Draco was lounging in his usual spot, his feet kicked up slightly on the bench. Both of them looked up as I approached, the same faint, knowing smirk crossing their faces.

I slid onto the bench next to Daphne, who shot me a quick, almost conspiratorial smile.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Just... needed a change of scene," I replied, glancing over at Draco, who was watching me intently.

"You've heard, I assume," Draco continued, gesturing vaguely at the room. "The school might close. Honestly, I can't say I'm surprised. These attacks are getting worse."

"Typical. More rules to tighten our already constrained lives," I said with a shrug. "But at least we're still here, for now."

Daphne made a small, noncommittal sound, but I knew she was feeling the same unease. We had no way of knowing how much longer Hogwarts would remain open. The idea of leaving was unsettling, and I couldn't help but worry about my family's expectations. I was well-behaved all year and did a lot with Draco and the other slytherins, so my dad couldn't really be mad at me.

Draco leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as if sharing some dark secret. "You know, I don't think Potter is the Heir of Slytherin."

My heart skipped a beat, and I looked at him sharply, trying to gauge his mood.

"You don't?" I asked, though I could already tell from the way he said it that his mind was set.

"It's not Potter, that's for sure. He's too much of a self-righteous idiot to pull something like this off. But I know one thing for sure," Draco continued, his eyes gleaming with an intensity I hadn't seen in him before, "I want to help the Heir. Whoever he is, they're clearly on a mission, and I'm all for it. I'm not afraid to stand by them."

I could feel Daphne's gaze on me, but I kept my eyes fixed on Draco. His words sent a shiver through me. This was bigger than I had thought. Draco was aligning himself with whoever the Heir was, and he was ready to act on that loyalty, regardless of the danger.

"What do you mean, help the Heir?" I asked, my voice calm, though inside, my thoughts were whirling.

Draco's smirk deepened. "Oh, you know, make sure they succeed. Help them however I can. No one else is going to do it, are they?" He looked between Daphne and me, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and mischief. "You two are on board, right? You're not fooling me. I know you're pretending to play the good little Gryffindor, Celeste. But deep down, we're all Slytherins at heart, aren't we?"

My stomach clenched, but I kept my face impassive.

"Of course, Draco," I said coolly, keeping my voice steady. "You know me. Always playing the part."

He grinned, leaning back in his seat. "That's what I like about you, Celeste. You're not like the others. You're smart, and you know where your loyalties lie."

Daphne's eyes flicked nervously between us, but she remained silent. I could feel the weight of her judgment, but I wasn't ready to open up to her—at least, not yet. I couldn't afford to show weakness, not with Draco so keenly observing every move.

I forced a smile, though inside, I was beginning to feel like I was walking a tightrope, balancing between the two worlds I had so carefully crafted for myself. My father's expectations on one side, and the growing pressure to align with Draco and the Heir on the other. How long could I keep pretending to be something I wasn't?

"Let's just say," I said carefully, my words carefully chosen, "that I'm not exactly opposed to the idea of helping whoever it is. But we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"

Draco laughed softly, satisfied. "Exactly. We'll see how things unfold. I like the way you think."

Daphne, for her part, was still quiet, her eyes distant as if she were lost in thought. But I could tell that even she, in her own way, was beginning to consider the implications of what we were talking about.

If we were truly going to support the Heir of Slytherin, it was no longer about just keeping up appearances. It was about committing to something far more dangerous, and far more powerful.

And I wasn't sure if I was ready for that.