𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 | 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳

25 || A Mandrake Restorative Draught

Harry

After Harry had stumbled across Ash, Justin, and Nearly Headless Nick petrified, he assumed that people would stop calling him the Heir of Slytherin, because he would never in a million years attack one of his best friends. However, people were starting to get more and more uneasy around Harry. Once, he heard someone whisper "If he is the heir, he attacked one of his best friends. Who knows who he'll attack next?" as he walked past.

Hermione and Ron both agreed with him that it was odd that Ash had been attacked by whatever monster lay in the chamber. She was at least a half-blood, because her mother went to Hogwarts, but the Heir of Slytherin was supposed to be purging the school of "less worthy witches and wizards" or muggle-borns.

"All the more reason to use the Polyjuice Potion as quickly as possible," Hermione said to this, a slight quaver to her voice. Harry could tell that the loss of Ash was taking a toll on his other female friend; she threw herself into her studies and, whenever time permitted, spent hours in the library trying to solve the mystery of the Chamber.

Also, Ash had missed Christmas, and it dampened the entire mood of Gryffindor tower. No one felt like exchanging gifts when their loud, boisterous and hilarious roommate was sitting, stiff and frozen, in the hospital wing.

The trio, along with the Quidditch team and some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws visited Ash on Christmas, talking to her even though they knew she wouldn't be able to hear them.

On the day the potion was ready, despair was thick in the atmosphere of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"I don't feel like taking it," Ron said quietly. "I don't feel like doing anything."

"Ash would want us to keep going," Hermione responded, though she looked like she felt the same. "She'd tell us to get off of our arses and expose Malfoy."

Harry let out a bitter chuckle, though he didn't feel like laughing.

"I've gotten the Sleeping Potion Ash made out of her trunk," Hermione informed them. "We'll give it to Crabbe and Goyle, and then you two will take out some of their hair. Malfoy will tell them anything."

"I really don't feel like taking it," Ron said, gulping.

--

To Harry and Ron's disappointment, Malfoy was not the heir of Slytherin.

Now they had no leads, no hope, and no Hermione, for she was in the hospital wing, trying to get her face rid of fur, because she had accidentally taken a cat hair from Millicent Bullstrode instead of a human one.

Harry and Ron had just gone up to visit her and inform Ash of how well the potion worked (she'd be furious she missed it) and they were going back to the common room when Harry paused, having heard something.

"That's Filch," Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ron tensely. They stood still, their heads inclined toward Flich's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.

"--Even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore -" His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.