ATTACK

I was glad that the gossip mill was running smoothly and efficiently and from what I had just heard I was confident that most would not be against the idea that I was the Slytherin Heir.

Obviously, Malfoy, his gang and the senior Slytherins will never acknowledge that the heir to the founder of their house was a Gryffindor and especially me.

But it did not concern me much because what mattered was what the majority believed to be true.

This would also benefit me.

Yes, most to all the students would avoid contact with me due to fear or jealously or both, it gave me chance to be alone once again without disturbance.

Unlike the last time when I was severely affected due to being outed by the house and the students, I couldn't care less this time around.

I turned on my heel and walked out of the library, earning myself a glance from Madam Pince, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spell book.

I blundered up the corridor, barely noticing where I was going, I was in no hurry to reach anywhere. The result was that I walked into something very large and solid, which knocked me backward onto the floor.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid," I told, looking up.

Hagrid's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, as he filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.

"All righ', Harry?" he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"Canceled," said Harry, getting up. "What're you doing in here?"

Hagrid held up the limp rooster.

"Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an; I need the headmaster's permission to put a charm around the hen coop."

He peered more closely at me from under his thick, snow-flecked eyebrows.

As I noticed it, I understood that the next attack had happened already and that Tom had made a move through Ginny.

"It's nothing," I said. "I'd better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."

I walked off.

I walked up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. I was halfway down the passage when I found a body lying on the floor.

This was what I was out to find today. I needed to solidify the rumours that were beginning to circulate and what better way than being first on the site of another attack.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight I had ever seen, twice.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

I looked up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

This was a useless clue, as it nearly got me killed the first time around without getting any prominent lead. All we got was vague information that the monster was the enemy of spiders, as if spiders had only one enemy. It was only due to Hermione that we finally figured out the puzzle and she was the only smart one to not venture into the spider den.

As I stood there, a door right next to me opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out.

"Why, it's potty wee Potter!" cackled Peeves, knocking Harry's glasses askew as he bounced past him. "What's Potter up to? Why's Potter lurking –"

Peeves stopped, halfway through a mid-air somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Harry could stop him, screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Crash – crash – crash – door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. I found himself pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black-and-white striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.

"Caught in the act!" Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at me.

"That will do, Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.

Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song:

"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done,

You're killing off students, you think it's good fun –"

"That's enough, Peeves!" barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry.

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Harry and Professor McGonagall alone together.

"This way, Potter," she said.

"Professor," I tried explaining, "I swear I didn't –"

"This is out of my hands, Potter," said Professor McGonagall curtly.

We marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

"Lemon drop!" she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind it split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. As I and Professor McGonagall stepped onto it, I heard the wall thud closed behind them. we rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, slightly dizzy, I saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

I knew now where I was being taken. This was where I died in my previous life.