The Art of Secrets

Chapter Thirteen: Polyjuice and Ravenclaws

By the next morning Erica had forgotten all about the fear Justin had shown and her own personal feelings about it. The snow that had began in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was cancelled, and Erica felt guiltier than ever about releasing the snake into that.

She had just ran up to the library to pick up a book on the other uses of mandrakes aside from the Restorative Potion they formed when she saw a group of Hufflepuffs who must have had a free period and immediately ducked behind one of the shelves.

The Invisibility Section, she saw as she caught the titles of a few of the books, and she had to smile at the irony, though that smile soon dropped when she heard what the Hufflepuffs were saying.

"So anyway," a stout looking boy said as she peered around the corner. "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Riddle's marked him down as her next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, we have to watch out for Potter as well. Haven't you noticed how alike they look? I wouldn't be surprised if they're both related and working as Slytherin's heirs together."

"You definitely think it is them, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously. Hannah, Erica thought of her name suddenly. Hannah Abbott. She had been one of the first people sorted in their year.

"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, confirming her suspicions. "They're Parselmouths. Everyone knows that's the mark of a dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent person who could talk to snakes?"

She couldn't take any more. Stepping out from behind the bookcase, she lent against the side, cleared her throat and said, "Does Merlin ring a bell? He was taught by Salazar Slytherin himself, and is one of the greatest sorcerers to have ever existed."

The boy who'd had so much to say to her before turned to her speechless, and she couldn't help the smirk that unfurled across her features at that. "I thought it might not. The next time that you want to have conversations like these I suggest you do it somewhere a little more private. You never know who could be listening in, after all."

He continued to remain speechless as she walked away, and she felt a small sense of satisfaction at that, even if she hadn't picked up the book she originally came to the library for.

She traipsed down the stairs, aiming to head back to the common room and trade gossip with Pansy whilst she had the spare time, and had turned down another corridor before she realised something was wrong. It was too dark, the torches having been extinguished by a strong, icy draught which was blowing through a loose window pane, and she was halfway down the passage when she tripped over something lying on the floor.

She turned to squint at what she'd fallen over before climbing to her feet in a rush, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

"Why did it have to be you?" She groaned.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of hock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, and, next to him, was another figure. Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, was floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face worse an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

She looked around once, her breathing fast and shallow, the only sounds being the muffled voices of teachers from classes either side of the deserted corridor. She couldn't help but notice a small trail of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies.

As she stood panicking, ready to bolt any second as soon as she could remind herself to breathe once again, the door next to her opened with a bang and Peeves came shooting out.