Something Exciting

That morning, Luna woke up early to go exploring with Rose. Luna was excited about it. There was a lot to see in Hogwarts, and Rose said she knew about all the secrets that the castle held.

Before breakfast, the two girls entered the Great Hall, and Rose led the way to the back of the Hall. She tapped the statue of Helga Hufflepuff with Serendipity, and the statue sidled off to the side.

"You know the house-elves?" asked Luna as she and Rose crawled up the small passageway to the house-elf dorms.

"Yup!" Rose replied cheerfully. "My friend Dripty was crucial in helping us resolve the Philosopher's Stone incident last year."

"Fascinating," Luna replied. "I don't think I've ever met a house-elf before. What are they like?"

"Short, with big ears and greenish gray skin," replied Rose. "They're slaves, but they seem happy with it."

"That's interesting," Luna replied. "That doesn't sound like wrackspurts, but it's hard to imagine that a slave would be happy."

"They're treated well here," Rose said. "I don't know about that house-elf I met over the summer, though. I think he was being beaten by his masters."

"What house-elf?" asked Luna.

"The one that was stopping Harry's mail," Rose replied as they reached the top of the staircase. "I'd actually forgotten about him, but he tried to hurt Int when he was bringing a message to Harry."

"That wasn't nice," Luna said. "Why try to hurt a homunculus?"

"Don't know yet, although Atrien might."

The girls entered the house-elf dorms to find them mostly empty, save for about half a dozen house-elves. After introducing Luna to them, Rose spoke to Atrien, who was conveniently there.

"Atrien, how long have you been here?" asked Rose.

"At Hogwarts?" asked the old elf.

"Yeah."

"About 119 years," Atrien replied. "Atrien remembers Professor Dumbledore when he was being a student. He was showing us house-elves kindness even back then."

Rose smiled. "Yeah, he does seem pretty great, but I was wondering about the girl who died about 50 years ago."

If this bothered Atrien, she didn't show it on her face. "Why is you asking about that?"

"Because I think whatever killed her has woken up, or reanimated, or whatever. I'm trying to get any information about it that I can, since Ref couldn't get anything from Aragog, since he can't understand spiders."

"Atrien is sorry, but Atrien is not knowing what killed her. Atrien was thinking that it was being Mr. Hagrid, but Professor Dumbledore would not be letting Mr. Hagrid back into Hogwarts if that was being the case."

"Alright, thanks," said Rose. "I have got another question."

"Atrien is being happy to help the students," replied Atrien.

"Have you ever heard of a house-elf called 'Dobby'?"

"Atrien is sorry that she cannot be helping Miss Rose, but Atrien has never heard of such an elf."

"It's alright," replied Rose. "I only ask because he was trying to stop Harry's mail from going through."

Atrien frowned. "Why would anyone be stopping Harry Potter's mail?"

"Not sure," Rose said, noting that Atrien, like the other House-elves, used Harry's full name when referring to him. Even they regarded him as a hero, and according to Sally-Anne, it was bothering Harry. "I haven't seen him since the summer, so I don't think he's still trying to bother Harry."

"If the house-elves is hearing anything, Dripty will be letting Miss Rose know," Atrien said. "And Atrien will be personally informing Professor Dumbledore."

"Thanks!" Rose exclaimed happily. "If I may ask, why is Harry so important to the house-elves?"

"He was stopping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," replied Atrien. "The Dark Lord was having no regard for house-elves, and was even torturing some of them for fun."

"Oh," Rose said, some of her cheer dissipating. "I'm sorry." Rose's cheer immediately returned. "Don't you worry, Atrien! I've stopped monsters before, and Voldy seems like a total pushover compared to the Phantom!"

"Who is being the Phantom?" asked Atrien.

"The most dangerous person I've ever crossed," Rose replied. "It wasn't that the Phantom was necessarily powerful, but patient. I still don't know his real name, although my brother should. The Phantom worked for over a thousand years to secure his victory, and he was clever enough never to allow his name to be known. My friends had to work hard to learn about him, and he does all of his work from the shadows."

"He is indeed sounding dangerous," Atrien said, impressed by the girl's vast imagination. Atrien had already been informed by Professor Dumbledore that it was best to listen to whatever Miss Rose said, even if Atrien didn't believe it. Professor Dumbledore had said that the information could be important, even if Atrien didn't yet understand how.

"It's alright," Rose said, still grinning. "The Exalted and I took care of him."

Atrien nodded. "Atrien is being sorry, Miss Rose, but Atrien must be overseeing the kitchens. The house-elves is preparing dinner for tonight."

"Oh, right, the feast," Rose said. "I missed that last year."

"Well, hopefully Miss Rose can be making it this year," Atrien said. "Atrien will be seeing you later."

"Bye, Atrien!" exclaimed Rose as the house-elf vanished from sight with a loud crack.

Harry walked through the castle, trying to clear his head. He knew his friends were starting to notice his odd behavior over the past few weeks, or at least Sally-Anne was. He couldn't tell them that he was hearing voices, otherwise they'd think he was mad. Harry was already sick of the attention he was receiving from Colin and Ginny and didn't need nor want any more attention. Why couldn't they understand that he was a normal person? Why couldn't people go back to paying more attention to Rose like before?

Harry felt a little bad about it, but he enjoyed Rose's psychotic episodes during class, since it meant that the topic of conversation switched from him to Rose for a few days. Unfortunately, it would inevitably make its way back to him after that, and then it was back to dealing with obsessive fans. Word had spread about what had happened the previous year, and everyone seemed to think that Harry had been in charge, leading his friends into danger and glory like some valiant hero. Every time he tried to explain that it had been Rose that was leading them, people would just congratulate him on his modesty.

Why didn't anyone listen to him? Did everyone just live in their own little world? What was wrong with people?

"Good morning, Harry!"

Harry was jolted awake by a familiar voice.

"Oh, hey, Nick."

Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, was floating along in the hallway. Harry wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing that he had grown accustomed to Nick's "condition". It wasn't that he was a ghost that had initially bothered Harry, but instead that his head could almost be completely detached from his body.

"Why so glum?" asked the ghost.

"It's nothing," Harry replied quickly, fearing that if anyone knew about the voices, then word would immediately spread to everyone in the school.

"Well, you shouldn't be so miserable!" Nick exclaimed. "Do you know what day it is?"

"No," Harry lied, hoping the answer wasn't "The day you defeated Voldemort", or something else ridiculous. What most people didn't seem to understand was that it was also the day his parents had died, but apparently they weren't important enough to be remembered.

"It's my 500th Deathday, of course!" Nick declared. "All the ghosts are holding a celebration later."

"Oh," Harry replied, not caring all that much.

"You should come," suggested Nick. "It might take your mind off of whatever's bothering you."

"I don't know," Harry said, certain that it wouldn't take his mind off things. What if he started hearing voices in public? What if he couldn't keep ignoring them?

"I insist!" Nicholas insisted. "It will be great fun, even though my request to join the Headless Hunt has once again been denied! You see…"

As Sir Nicholas ranted about his foiled attempts at joining the Headless Hunt, Harry let his mind wander back to the voices he'd heard. It wasn't all the time, and it seemed random. Why did this have to happen to him?! It wasn't fair! All Harry wanted was some quiet! Was having a normal year too much to ask for the great Harry Potter?! Why him?!

"I know what's moving in the castle."

Albus looked up from his desk to see Rose standing in front of him. The girl had quite the bad habit of popping up at random.

"You really should knock first, Rose."

"The acromantulas call it 'The Predator'," Rose said, ignoring the Headmaster. "It killed a girl 50 years ago."

"That's an interesting theory, but that's not possible. That girl was killed by the Monster of Slytherin."

"Why can't it be the Monster of Slytherin?" Rose asked, a frown crossing her face.

"It presumably lives in the Chamber of Secrets, which must be opened in order for the creature to escape," Albus explained patiently.

"And it can't be open because…?"

"When the Chamber was opened 50 years ago, it was made well known that it had. There is no other evidence that the Chamber of Secrets has been re-opened, not to mention that no one has been able to find the Chamber of Secrets."

"Okay. Two more questions."

"Go ahead."

"First: What was the girl's name?"

"Myrtle Warren. She was a Muggle-born Ravenclaw student."

Rose scribbled the information in her notebook before continuing. "Second: Who's 'Riddle'?"

"I'm sorry?" Albus asked, despite knowing full well to whom the girl was referring. From whom was she getting her information? Wait, didn't she say something about the acromantulas?

"Aragog said Riddle got Mr. Hagrid expelled."

Aha! It was the acromantulas! That left Albus with a few questions, but the two most prominent were "Why was she talking with them?" and "How many were still alive?".

"More than that, Rose," Albus replied kindly. "Poor Hagrid was sent to Azkaban."

"That rings a bell, so we're gonna circle back to that one," Rose said. "I had Aragog dodging my questions all night, I don't need you doing it too! Who is 'Riddle'?"

"Tom Riddle."

Rose frowned, then pulled out her notebook. Flipping back a few pages, she skimmed over her notes until she found the information she was seeking.

"That's him, isn't it?" she asked. "That's Voldemort."

Albus nodded.

"Coming back to my other question," Rose said, scribbling more illegible words in her notebook, "what's Azkaban?"

"Why were you talking with Aragog?" Albus countered.

"I got bored and found some spiders leaving the castle," Rose replied.

Albus noted that she left out the part about it being past curfew, although assumed she didn't realize that she had already let slip that she was out at night.

"They were all running to Aragog for safety from the Predator."

"Interesting. I don't recall Aragog being the talkative type."

Rose shook her head, her crimson hair flying around with it. "He's not. I had to kill some spiders first. He started talking to get me to stop killing them."

"You killed his children to get him to talk?" asked Professor Dumbledore cautiously.

"No, I killed them because they were trying to eat me," Rose replied. "Also, I was having fun."

"Murder is never fun."

"I felt bad about it afterwards," she said dismissively. "What's Azkaban?"

Albus wasn't sure he liked the girl's dismissive attitude towards murder, but she had assured him that he'd leave the students alone, so he decided to leave it for the time being.

"Azkaban is a high-security prison," explained Professor Dumbledore. "It is on an isolated island and was once a fortress to the evil wizard Ekrizdis. The island has always been inhabited by Dementors, creatures that now serve as guardians of the island."

"That sounds like Thedo Minor," replied Rose.

"What's Thedo Minor?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

Rose repeated the story of Thedo Minor she'd told to Sally-Anne and Hermione the previous year.

"From her grief the Somber Snow was created," Rose concluded. "I know from experience that anyone caught in the Somber Snow, which covers the entire island, will feel colder as they feel happier."

"Experience?"

"Sk'lar was taken there a few years back," Rose replied.

Albus and Rose stared at one another for a minute before Albus decided that Rose wasn't going to elaborate.

"Didn't you say your brother was Headmaster of one of the schools?"

"Yup."

Albus and Rose stared at one another for several minutes. Albus took the time to consider the girl in front of him. She spoke fondly of her friends, but stopped talking when certain topics arose in conversation. One such topic seemed to be her brother's past. What had he done to get himself locked up? It couldn't have been so bad, given that he was now in charge of what Rose claimed to be one of the best schools in her world.

If Thedo Minor was a high-security prison on par with Azkaban, then her brother must've done something horrible. He could understand her not wanting to talk about it. Her brother was her hero, and people often refused to believe their heroes could do anything wrong.

"Very well," Albus said. "Returning to the original topic of our conversation, I believe that it is highly unlikely that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened. However, something has frightened the acromantulas, so it is possible that there is something else now active within Hogwarts."

"Maybe the Chamber of Secrets is open," Rose said. "Maybe whoever opened it is being subtle about it this time."

"That's possible, of course," Professor Dumbledore replied. "Even if that is the case, I won't be able to convince my staff of that."

"I'm not asking you to. I also didn't ask you to put your reputation on the line for me."

Albus didn't so much as hesitate, but instead replied, "From whom did Reflectesalon learn that?"

"Professor McGonagall," replied Rose, glad that she finally didn't have to explain her source of information. "You should really consider training your staff in occlumency."

"I have."

"Considered it, or trained them?" asked Rose. "If you've trained them, then you should consider retraining them, because they aren't very good at it."

"I'm aware," Albus replied. He had considered instituting mandatory occlumency training for the staff, especially now that there was a girl picking through their minds, but it seemed that they never had the time for it. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rose, but rather that he was worried that someone else could be picking information from her head.

"Why stick your neck out like that?" asked Rose. "I'm not that special, and I'm certainly not worth it."

This surprised Albus. The crimson-haired girl walked around like she owned the school, rarely hesitating, if ever. She displayed a unique set of skills, and Albus wasn't sure if the girl had limits. Given all of this, why didn't she consider herself special? Were these abilities normal in her world?

"I don't know the situation in your world, Rose, but in our world, your abilities are unique. In fact, I believe them to be vital to surviving the events to come."

"What does that mean?"

Albus wasn't sure if he should tell Rose about what he believed. He kept his inner circle informed, those he knew he could trust, but could he really trust this girl? Severus could be right about her; She could simply be feeding them lies in order to earn their trust, but something about that just didn't sit right with Albus. It wasn't just the way the girl acted, it was something more.

Albus had held the title of headmaster for decades, and he'd seen all manner of different students. He'd seen students like Draco Malfoy, who desperately try to win the approval of their parents, no matter what the personal cost. He'd seen students like Ronald Weasley, people that want recognition and approval from their peers. Even students like Harry Potter, who simply wanted to be left alone and be normal had been through his halls.

There was something about Rose though, almost like a chink in her armor. Behind all the bravado, Albus was certain that he could see a scared little girl, cut off from her friends and family. Albus didn't know how she had found herself in this world, but he had no difficulty believing that she wasn't from his world. She used a unique set of magic, with which Albus saw little problem, save one.

"Last year, you informed me of a spell you called revivify," Albus said, choosing to ignore the girl's question for the moment. "It allows someone to restore life to a person who died within six seconds of the casting. Is there any other way to restore life to a person once they've died?"

"No," Rose said without hesitation. She felt like she had just lied to Uncle Oz, but she reminded herself that no matter how much Professor Dumbledore acted like Uncle Oz, he wasn't Uncle Oz. If Professor Dumbledore knew the actual limit to Rose's ability to bring back the dead, then he'd keep her under tight surveillance, and that would ruin Rose's fun.

Albus nodded. "Thank you, Rose."

"You're welcome!" exclaimed Rose. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go."

"I will see you at the feast tonight," Professor Dumbledore replied.

Rose walked to the door, then stopped.

"That's not all I got from Professor McGonagall," she said. "Your people are probing my people… my friends for information."

If it bothered Professor Dumbledore, he didn't show it, but then, he never showed anything on that face. Rose knew he had feelings, but she also knew it was pointless to show those feelings. Shadow had taught her that.

"Hermione's Arithmancy lessons, Sally-Anne's secret rune training, and Ronald's friendly chess matches. You're using them to collect information on me."

Professor Dumbledore remained silent, his hands folded in front of him.

"Am I wrong?"

He shook his head.

"If you wanted to know something, you could've just asked," Rose said. "Leave them out of this."

"Right now, I know all I need to know about you, Rose," Professor Dumbledore said. "You are correct that these sessions are being used to collect information on you, but you are wrong about the person doing the collection. I'm not getting information on you, Rose, my staff is. You've given them every reason not to trust you, and you told me you understood this last time we spoke."

"They hold the title of professor, and my brother always said I should respect that title," Rose said. "I will, but I don't trust them. Carolina says your staff are good people, and I'll believe that, but that doesn't mean I'm going to tell them everything about myself."

"I'm not asking you to tell them anything, but you frighten them. They want to be prepared in the event that something goes wrong."

Rose glared at Professor Dumbledore.

"Fine," she said. "Just leave them alone."

"I will involve them as little as possible."

Rose nodded to Professor Dumbledore, then vanished from his office.

"So just to recap," Ron said as he gazed out at the room full of ghosts, "Harry's here because Nick invited him, and we're here– missing the Hallowe'en Feast– because Harry convinced us that it was a good idea."

"That about sums it up," Sally-Anne replied.

"What are those?" Harry asked Hermione, indicating the objects laid out across most of the tables.

"Food, I think," Hermione replied.

"Harry!" exclaimed Nearly Headless Nick. "So glad that you could come!"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry replied hesitantly.

"It looks like most of the ghosts are here," Sally-Anne said, trying to make conversation.

"Of course," Nick replied. "A ghost's Deathday is an important event."

"Still seems weird, if you ask me," Ron said. "I mean, why celebrate the day you died?"

"Ronald!" exclaimed Sally-Anne. "Don't be rude!"

"It's not just the day I died," Nick said. If he was offended by Ron's comment, it didn't show on his face. "It's the day I became a ghost! Five hundred years to date, I was nearly beheaded."

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

She'd never had the opportunity to learn about the Gryffindor ghost and why his head was nearly gone from his shoulders. She thought it might be interesting to find out about it.

"I tried to use magic to fix Lady Grieve's teeth," replied the ghost of the hour. "It didn't quite work, and I accidentally gave her tusks."

"Whoops," muttered Ron.

"They took my wand from me and executed me the following morning."

"Why isn't your head completely detached then?" Hermione asked.

"The executioner's axe was blunt, you see. It took 45 attempts to take off my head, and even then…" His voice trailed off, and he tilted his head to one side, nearly detaching it from his head.

"Half an inch of skin and some sinew holds it on," Nick said.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Ron said, looking at Hermione. "Aren't girls supposed to find stuff like that disgusting?"

"My parents are dentists," Hermione said. "I've seen worse than that."

"Never mind me," Sir Nicholas said, looking at the small group of Gryffindors attending his party. "What's wrong with your friend?"

Hermione glanced over at Rose, who was examining some of the "food" at the snack table.

"How much time have you got?" Ron asked, receiving an elbow from Hermione. "What?"

"She's just a bit different, Ronald," snapped Hermione. "You're different from her!"

"Oi!" Ron shot back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Would you two stop?!" Sally-Anne shouted at the bickering couple. "Ron, you're being insensitive. Hermione, you're being overly sensitive."

Both of them folded their arms and glared at the other.

Hermione was starting to get annoyed by how Ron treated Rose. Rose was… strange, but she had still saved their lives time and again. Not to mention, Hermione was worried about her. While Hermione was certain that her friend could handle herself, Hermione was worried that Rose was having more episodes. What if it wasn't her ability to hear the stones, but an actual psychotic episode, or worse, some sort of reaction to being in another world? What if they just got worse? Hogwarts was terrifying without Rose there.

Ron, on the other hand, hated that Rose kept getting all the attention. If not Rose, then people were fawning over Harry. Ron was there last year when they all went into the Philosopher's Stone chambers, but no one even mentioned him. Even his own mother was more worried about Harry's safety than his when she found out about everything that they'd been through the previous year. At least Professor McGonagall thought he had promise with chess.

On a side note, Ron never thought he'd open a sentence with "At least Professor McGonagall…", and it was a little strange.

"If you mean how pale Rose's skin is," Sally-Anne said to Nicholas. "She's got this… sort of… condition."

"And you'd rather I not talk about it," Nicholas said. "I understand. Have any of you by chance spotted Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore?"

"Who?" asked Harry.

"He's in charge of the Headless Hunt," the Gryffindor Ghost replied. Grumbling he added, "And he denied my application to join again."

"Couple questions," Hermione said, still glaring at Ron. "What's the Headless Hunt, and why do you want to join?"

"It's a group of ghosts whose heads have 'parted company with their bodies'," replied Nick contemptibly. "And according to Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore, half an inch of skin and sinew isn't good enough for the Hunt."

"I'm sorry," Sally-Anne said, pretty sure that the ghost was upset.

"I'm sure I'll get over it," Sir Nicholas replied. "Just so long as he doesn't show up ton–"

Nearly Headless Nick was cut off by shouts and whoops from the entrance to the Dungeons. The students saw a group of ghosts, not one of whom had a head on their shoulders, riding through the entrance on spectral horses.

"Is that them?" asked Sally-Anne.

"Yes," snarled Nick. "Sir Delaney-Podmore! I don't remember inviting you tonight!"

"I'm sure our invitations were just lost!" declared one of the ghosts, presumably Sir Delaney-Podmore. "We thought we'd stop by for a rousing game of Head Hockey!"

Rose watched the spectacle as she approached the rest of her friends.

"Some wanna catch me up?" she asked.

"Nearly Headless Nick doesn't like them," replied Sally-Anne. "Something about them not letting him join in their reindeer games."

"Huh?" asked Ron and Rose.

"Sorry, Muggle joke," replied Sally-Anne as Hermione and Harry snickered.

Rose glanced over and noticed that a ghost girl in Ravenclaw robes was crying in the corner. The girl wore glasses, and had her ghostly hair in pigtails.

"Who's that?"

Sally-Anne turned to see to whom Rose was referring. "That's Moaning Myrtle. She haunts the first-floor girls' bathroom."

Rose tilted her head. "Why is she crying?"

"That's what she does," replied Ron.

Rose glanced over at Ron. "No one cries for no reason. There must be something bothering her."

Please don't say it, thought Hermione.

"I'm gonna go find out what it is!" declared Rose.

You said it, thought Hermione, groaning.

Hermione had long since noticed that Rose had a habit of sticking her nose where it didn't always belong. While that was the reason Rose had been there when Malfoy was causing problems for Hermione their first year, it also meant Rose often found herself in the middle of a problem, and more often than not, dragged Hermione with her.

Rose skipped happily over to Myrtle. "Salutations, Myrtle!"

That name kept ringing a bell, but Rose couldn't think why. What was significant about a Ravenclaw called Myrtle?

"W-Who are you?" sobbed Myrtle.

"I'm Rose," Rose replied, curtsying. "It's nice to meet you!"

"Are you here to make fun of me?"

"Of course not," Rose replied. "I got teased all the time at my old school, so I know how you feel."

"Do you?!" wailed Myrtle. "Every day for the past 50 years, I get mocked and teased! Just like when I was alive!"

Rose's smile faded. "I'm sorry, Myrtle. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Everything upsets Pimply!"

Rose turned to see Peeves, the Poltergeist, entering the room through a wall.

"Ugly Myrtle!" jeered Peeves. "Fat Myrtle!"

Myrtle began wailing again, then flew off through a wall.

"Wait!" Rose exclaimed, then turned to glare at Peeves, who flew after Myrtle, continuing his barrage of hurtful insults.

Rose quickly scribbled something in her notebook. As she did, she caught a glimpse of a note she had made earlier that day.

Monster of Slytherin victim - Myrtle Warren; Muggle-born Ravenclaw

Everything clicked in Rose's head, and she bolted out the door, hoping to find the two ghosts. It wasn't until Rose was down the hallway that she remembered that blink allowed her to phase through walls.

"Alright, lesson learned," Rose muttered. "I know I already noted it, but I feel the need to say it: Saint Nature's whole 'I can grab ghosts' thing would really come in handy right about now."

Rose looked around as her friends caught up with her.

"Rose," Hermione panted, "please… don't do that… ever again. Ever."

"I don't suppose you saw where they went, did you?" asked Rose.

"No," Sally-Anne said. "Ron, Harry?"

"No," Ron replied.

Harry remained silent.

"Harry, what's–" Sally-Anne began, but then saw what was holding his attention.

The most mundane part of their surroundings was the water on the ground. Standing near it was a petrified Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat. She was frozen in place, although there was no obvious reason why.

Moaning Myrtle and Peeves were nowhere to be found, but Rose could hear crying coming from somewhere close to them.

The most important part of the scene was what was written on the wall. It looked to the children like it was written in blood, and Rose, having seen plenty of blood, mentally confirmed it to be blood.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED - ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

As her friends gasped, Rose just sighed.

"Now I know how Shadow feels all the time," she said. "Not only do people keep asking me the same questions, but they keep doubting that I'm right." She turned to Sally-Anne. "Hey, Sally-Anne, you're good with people. How do you think Professor Dumbledore will react to me telling him 'I told you so'?"

"Rose," Sally-Anne said. "Now's not the time."

Rose sighed again. "It's never the time," she muttered.

Other students, leaving the feast, began to gather around them, all of them gasping as they saw the words.

"'Enemies of the Heir, beware'," read Malfoy, who had shoved his way to the front of the crowd. "You'll be next, mudbloods!"

Rose rolled her eyes.

<Can I kill him?> she asked Reflectesalon.

<That depends,> Reflectesalon replied, <am I still under orders to inform your brother if you kill a student?>

Rose muttered something offensive in Dwarven, then replied, <Fine. He can live… for now.>

"My cat!" exclaimed Filch as he arrived. He rushed up to Mrs. Norris, holding his cat gingerly in his arms. "What've you–"

Argus stopped dead when he saw one of the girls standing in front of him. She wore a red cloak, black dress, and goofy looking goggles on her head. There was no doubt about it: It was her.

"You!" he hissed at the girl.

"Salutations, Mr. Filch," she said cheerfully.

Before Argus could begin to understand exactly why the girl he was certain was a trick of the Weasley Twins was here, he was interrupted by a voice with more authority than his.

"What is going on here?" came the voice of Professor McGonagall. She gasped as she read the writing on the wall.

"It was them!" exclaimed Filch, pointing at the second-years. "They was 'ere when I got 'ere!"

"That doesn't mean it was them, Argus," Professor McGonagall said. "Everyone, back to your rooms!" she shouted, then turned to the five Gryffindors. "I think you five had better come with me."