The Serpents' Lair
"Do you know the way, Harry?" Ron asked as Harry took the lead, guiding him down into the castle dungeons.
"Well, more or less. Remember how last year we played a few pranks on Malfoy with that whole Heir thing? We had to leave those stupid clues nearby to make it more believable," Harry explained, wearing an expression somewhere between annoyed and worried.
"You don't actually think Draco found the Chamber of Secrets because of those pranks, do you?" Ron asked, having noticed Harry's unease ever since they began suspecting Draco of being the Heir.
"I don't know, but if he did..."
"It wouldn't be your fault. Or really anyone's except Malfoy's, so stop worrying so much about things that aren't under your control," Ron added immediately, cutting him off as though he already knew what Harry was about to say.
Harry couldn't help looking at his friend in slight disbelief. That had sounded surprisingly intelligent.
Too bad he currently had Crabbe's face.
When they reached one of the deepest parts of the dungeons, Harry stopped and looked around.
"It's here," he said, pointing at one of the walls.
"And how do we get in? Do you know the password?" Ron asked immediately.
"Yeah. If Hermione's potion wasn't ready in time, I was planning to sneak in by myself, so I watched a few students enter a couple of times," Harry said calmly.
"Pure blood," he said towards the wall with slight contempt.
The moment he said it, the wall took the shape of a door.
Without further delay, Harry pushed it open and stepped inside, followed by Ron, who swallowed nervously for a moment.
After all, he was about to enter the serpents' lair.
The Slytherin common room was long and partly underground, with stone walls and a stone ceiling. Several greenish lamps hung from it by chains, and directly ahead of them was a fireplace that warmed the truly cold and slightly damp room.
Several Slytherin students were sitting in rather expensive-looking armchairs, talking quietly among themselves.
Among them, sprawled across one of the most comfortable and expensive-looking sofas as though he owned the place, was Malfoy, who was reading a newspaper and letting out exaggerated bursts of laughter, even slapping the sofa as though he were reading the funniest thing in the world.
Then Draco's eyes settled on Harry and Ron.
"Crabbe! Goyle!" he snapped in an irritated tone. "Finally. Where have you two been? Eating again? Didn't you have enough at dinner tonight?" he complained.
"Yeah, we were eating," Ron, inside Crabbe's body, replied immediately. "You know, we didn't get to eat much because of the Weasley twins," he added.
Malfoy let out a contemptuous snort.
"Yes, those Weasleys. I wonder why they haven't been expelled yet," he added with complete disdain. "It's unbelievable they're considered pure-bloods. The way they are, they disgrace the wizarding world, every single one of them. If they love Muggles so much, they should snap their wands and go live with them. Then they'd finally do the magical world some good," Draco added, a trace of hatred entering his voice.
That made Ron's face—or rather Crabbe's—twist with anger.
"What is wrong with you?" Malfoy asked, noticing his expression.
Harry elbowed him, making Ron realise he'd allowed his emotions to show, so he quickly said:
"My stomach hurts," he grunted.
"Whatever," Draco said dismissively, not caring. "You know, I'm surprised the newspaper, the Daily Prophet, isn't talking about the attacks. Maybe that mad old fool is hiding it from the world, because if everything comes out, he'll have to resign. My father says that ever since Dumbledore took over this school, everything has gone downhill. A proper Headmaster never would've admitted that Creevey boy, or whatever his name is. Just some stupid child who plays around all the time and licks Saint Potter's boots," Draco mocked, glancing at both of them so they would laugh along with him.
So Harry and Ron could only force smiles onto their faces.
"If we're talking about the worst thing that could've happened to Hogwarts, there's only one thing worse than Dumbledore, and that's Potter. Friends with that filthy, stuck-up Mudblood Granger, that Jackson bloke, his supposedly ill-mannered brother, and that other one, who's probably some kind of half-troll or something. They really do make one perfect, happy family," Draco mocked.
This time, he failed to notice that Goyle's face—or rather Harry's—had turned extremely cold as he stared at him.
Fortunately, Ron noticed and elbowed his friend before Harry gave away their disguise.
Though Ron would've quite liked to see Harry beat Malfoy senseless again.
"And now everyone thinks Potter is the Heir. Slytherin must be rolling in his grave," Draco added irritably.
At once, both Harry and Ron focused completely on his words, feeling as though Malfoy was only a sentence or two away from admitting that he was the Heir himself.
But, against all expectations, Malfoy let out a sigh.
"Ah, what a shame. If I knew who it was, I could probably help him," he said in a smug tone, while slipping a hand into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a green key shaped like a serpent.
Harry's eyes widened even further at the sight of that key.
It was exactly as Percy had described the one Cedric carried.
At the same time, a sound reached his ears.
"Find... the door," it whispered, and it seemed to be coming from the key in Draco's hand.
Draco, meanwhile, continued speaking angrily.
"In fact, maybe someone got there before me and claimed the title. What a shame. I spent an entire year trying to earn it, but just when I was so close, someone else had already taken my place," he said, his frustration impossible to miss.
Harry couldn't help staring fixedly at the key.
"W-what's that?" he asked, trying not to sound too interested.
"Hm?" Draco looked back at him and quickly shoved the key into his pocket. "I already told you, Goyle, don't ask," he said threateningly.
"Oh... right, sorry," Harry quickly replied with Goyle's face, though his eyes remained fixed on Draco's pocket.
"Haaa... My father doesn't want to tell me much about the Chamber of Secrets. Maybe if I'd known something before it was opened, it could've been me. But he said it happened many years before he attended Hogwarts. The only thing he told me was that the one who opened the Chamber was expelled and had his wand snapped because, thanks to him, a Mudblood died. So it won't be long before that happens again, and honestly, I hope it's Granger," he added with obvious delight.
Ron almost leapt out of his chair to attack him, but Harry grabbed his arm, stopping him.
Ron was about to complain angrily, but when he saw the look on Harry's face—or rather, Goyle's face—he felt a slight chill as he realised just how tightly Goyle's hand was squeezing his arm.
Harry was restraining himself from beating that stupid brat senseless.
"But anyway, even if I knew who the Heir was, my father told me to stay out of it and keep my distance so I don't get tied up in all this. You know, he's already got enough problems, and if those filthy Knights came back again... Though it won't be for much longer, since my father's dealing with that as well," Malfoy said, completely unaware that his life was in danger at that very moment. "They even dared search our house looking for Dark artefacts. Luckily, we've got a secret vault hidden beneath the drawing room floor, and those idiots never even noticed," he added mockingly.
"Oh, really? Under the drawing room?" Goyle asked calmly.
"Mmm, yeah. We've got a lot of valuable things and Dark artefacts that are better off staying hidden," Malfoy replied casually.
At the same time, he suddenly frowned and glanced to the side, as though looking for something.
He also patted his pocket in confusion.
"Something wrong?" Goyle asked calmly.
"No. Must've imagined it," Malfoy said, still looking puzzled as he patted his pocket a few more times before sitting back down on the sofa.
Then Goyle grabbed Crabbe and urged him to leave.
"We're going to the hospital wing to get something for this stomach ache," he said, offering the perfect excuse.
Malfoy didn't seem to care.
"Kick a few Mudbloods for me," was all he said.
"Sure," Goyle replied before turning around and walking out.
Malfoy couldn't shake the feeling that Goyle's tone had been a little different from usual, but he didn't think much of it and went back to reading the newspaper.
The headline reported that Arthur Weasley was being attacked by several pure-blood families because their homes had been searched and nothing had been found. They were now demanding his dismissal for trying to frame them for possessing dangerous objects they supposedly didn't own.
But, as Draco had said...
If his family could hide their Dark artefacts, who was to say the others couldn't do exactly the same?
And that was putting Arthur's job at risk.
...
"So Malfoy's not the Heir. Does that mean all this was for nothing?" Ron asked as his body slowly began returning to its real form while they headed towards the third-floor bathroom.
"No, it wasn't completely for nothing," Harry said with a smile as he put his glasses back on and, at the same time, pulled out a striking green serpent-shaped key.
"When did you take that?" Ron asked in surprise.
"Right after Malfoy told us where his father keeps all the illegal stuff," Harry replied with a mischievous smile, already knowing exactly what to do with that information next. "Now we just have to wait for Percy's information."
"Wait," Ron suddenly said. "If Malfoy wasn't the Heir... then it couldn't be..."
Meanwhile, inside one of Hufflepuff's rooms...
Percy, who had already returned to his normal form, was holding Riptide with both hands, standing directly in front of Tyson, whose face was filled with fear and worry.
On the other side of the room, staring coldly at them...
Stood Cedric.
In one hand, he gripped a green serpent-shaped key tightly.