Effervescence | h.p.

ii | x. classroom fun

"RON!"

Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all four of them jump.

"That's a girls' bathroom!" Percy gasped, stopping dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam and an expression of complete shock on his face. "What were you — ?"

"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know — "

Percy swelled in a manner that was forcefully giving the same energy as Mrs. Weasley.

"Get — away — from — there — " Percy said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner—"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"

"That's what I told Ginny," said Percy fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled. I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her, all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business — "

"You don't care about Ginny," said Ron, whose ears were now reddening. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy — "

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!"

And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.

Lyra flipped his back her middle finger before she muttered, "Bitch."

Lyra, Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose seats as far from Percy as possible in the common room that night. Ron was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he absentmindedly reached for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his homework, Ron slammed his book shut, surprisingly followed by Hermione.

"Who can it be, though?" she said in a quiet voice. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"

"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks all Muggle-borns are scum?"

"If you're talking about Malfoy — " said Lyra, rolling her eyes.

"Of course I am! You heard him — You'll be next, Mudbloods!' — come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him — "

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione skeptically.

"Look at his family," said Harry, closing his book. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants."

"His father's definitely evil enough," said Lyra, upset.

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son. . . . "

"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible. . . . "

"But how do we prove it?" Harry asked darkly.

"What if it's not a literal key at all?" Lyra speculated.

"What d'you mean?" said Ron.

"Well, each common room has a special way to get in, right? What if it's like that? Like a Slytherin phrase or something?" she explained with a shrug.

"That would be even harder to prove," said Harry.

"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect — "