In the aftermath of the Chamber kerfuffle, Penny escorted all students back to Ravenclaw’s Tower. Taylor followed in body, but her mind was on the many bugs she snuck into the DADA professor’s office before the crowd got there. She listened to everything avidly.
Inside, Lockhart prattled about this one curse or another doing his best to be as annoying as possible while offering no help whatsoever, in Taylor’s modest opinion.
“… so unlucky I wasn’t there, I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her …”
On and on he went with no one, aside from his own portraits and Filch, paying him any heed.
Filch hung on Lockhart’s every word, with every inconsiderate thing spewing out of Lockhart's mouth sending the caretaker into greater bouts of sobbing. Taylor never thought she’d see an old man ugly-cry, but Filch did his best, balling his eyes out, slumped in a chair by the desk with his face in both hands.
Taylor moved her attention toward the others in the room.
Snape looked very Snape. Tall, brooding and moody. His eyes kept flickering to Harry Potter when no one else was looking. McGonagall fretted near the headmaster, looking spooked. Flitwick paced up and down, tugging at his mustache. Professor Sprout looked very quiet in one of the corners, eyes fixed on Mrs Norris.
Then there was the headmaster. It was the first time Taylor had the opportunity to observe him so closely. Having read so many stories about the man in so many books, she’d done her best to steer clear of him in the off chance he had a magical way of detecting her presence through her bugs. Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case.
Even bent over and murmuring near a dead cat, he cut an imposing figure. His long, white beard flowed and crystal clear blue eyes stared from behind small glasses. He was everything a fantasy wizard should be: Tall, old, bearded and radiating wisdom with each word and gesture.
Taylor felt extremely uncomfortable just looking at the headmaster. The way he looked at people and that twinkling in his eyes. It was like he could peer into people’s souls and discern all their secrets.
“She’s not dead, Argus,” the headmaster said softly, cutting off Lockhart’s prattle.
“Not dead?” Filch choked from between his fingers. “But why’s she all – all stiff and frozen?”
“She has been Petrified,” said Dumbledore (“Ah! I thought so!”). “But how, I cannot say…”
The meeting after that delved into finger pointing and blame casting. Filch wanted Harry punished because he was convinced Harry had done it. Dumbledore opposed that. The magic that had petrified Mrs Norris was dark magic. Too dark for a second year, Harry couldn’t have done it. Then Snape inserted his long beaked nose into the conversation, asking questions about what the trio was doing in that corridor.
Harry’s excuse convinced no one, even Taylor who wasn’t there.
Snape then proposed they bar Harry from playing Quidditch until he was forthcoming with the truth.
And surprisingly, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall took a stance against this.
“Really, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall, “I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn’t hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong.”
Even the headmaster gave out his opinion on the matter. He’d been staring at Harry, with eyes twinkling.
“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus.”
Snape looked furious. So did Filch.
What the heck. Normal bullying these people ignored, but when the bullying affected the Gryffindor Quidditch team they opposed it? What the hell was wrong with these wizards?
Harry and his friends were soon dismissed. She kept a few bugs in the office, following the staff conversation now that the students had left, and with another part of her mind, she followed Harry and his friends.
What she learned when they thought no one was listening was enlightening.
Professor Sprout who’d been quiet this whole time whispered. “Could this be a student prank?”
The headmaster turned to her, his face still serious.
“I’m afraid it might not be, Pomona.”
“What do we do, Dumbledore?” Flitwick asked next.
“We observe, and with luck, no disaster will happen this time.”
This time? Had the chamber been opened before? Taylor couldn’t think of any other meaning for the way the headmaster phrased it. After that, there wasn’t much to learn on the staff side, so she dedicated more attention to Harry and Co.
They walked just until they were far enough away from the professors until they ducked inside an empty classroom.
“D’you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?” Whispered Harry.
“No,” the Weasley boy said without hesitation. “Hearing voices no one else can hear isn’t a good sign, even in the wizarding world.”
What voices? Taylor hadn’t heard anything, but again, she hadn’t been paying attention during the feast.
The conversation continued after that, but Taylor didn’t much care for the Weasley discrimination towards non-magicals born from magical families, even if it was towards Filch. She refused to call him a squib. The man was a menace and a terror, but she had her own standards. The more Taylor learned about the magical world, the more she realised that what she was doing was more than needed. If even the good, nice wizards were all racists as much as the bad evil ones, how was she to solve this problem?
Taylor kept her many eyes on the whole castle for a few more minutes, trying to find what was different and where this Chamber of Secrets could be. Maybe it was the disappearing room? She hadn’t been paying attention at all while dancing with the skellies, but the room might have showed up again. With the amount of stuff piled there, maybe someone found a magical artifact or heirloom that petrified people? Something to discuss later with Luna.
There was a situation Taylor hadn’t had the time to address yet, which she found… odd.
Magical bugs weren’t the same as normal bugs. Normal insects didn’t have… Taylor hesitated to call it an ego, but it was the best way to describe things. Her control over them was absolute. Her control over magical insects was absolute too, but magical ones had ego, or instinct and more often than not, those pressed against her power. It was like an ant trying to move a planet. It was never going to work, no matter how many ants. But they tried. She’d seen this before, like the fliers not wanting anything to do with the sudden monsoon season out there.
So, Taylor found it odd that all the spiders on the same side of the castle where they found the petrified cat wanted to flee. From what and to where, she couldn’t say exactly, but even the ones hidden in her tower, or the peaceful rainbow-silk spiders deep down in the tunnels beneath Hogwarts wanted to get away. She really wanted to ask Luna about this, but she’d also need to explain about her power and she made a promise to mum. No telling secrets, even to best friends.
Taylor blinked back inside her own head, finally aware of things around her again.
“Welcome back,” Luna whispered close to her ear.
Taylor had to reflexively hold back a yelp. She shivered, heart almost popping out of her mouth, and looked around frantically. She found herself with a bundle of pink pajamas in hand, Luna gently pushing her toward the bathroom; she didn’t remember getting there at all.
“You should change out of the robes,” Luna said, pushing her into the bathroom, then closing the door after Taylor went through.
Taylor stared at the door confused. Almost mechanically, she got into her pajamas, folded the robes, cleaned her teeth and stopped before she went back.
She looked at the empty bathroom again, at the bundle of clothes in her hands, and sighed.
There was a chance that Luna had found something about her power, give her comment. She might ask questions, questions Taylor couldn’t give without breaking mum’s promise. Would she get mad like the others? Call her weirdo and stop being her friend?
With another deep sigh, she returned to her room.
Mira and Harriet, as usual, had already retired without even a goodnight. It made Taylor sad that they didn’t want to be friends for some reason. Was it the trouble with Snape or was it because she was weird?
She looked for Luna, who had already gone up to her bunk. Taylor was very tired, but she also had a letter to write, so, instead of joining Luna under blankets, she sat on the desk, pulled normal paper and a pen, then started writing.
In today’s letter, Taylor recounted the Halloween feast, the dance, the foods, and all the fun she had. She also mentioned briefly how some of her door mates didn’t seem to want to be friends for some reason, but didn’t linger on that subject. Then, by the end of the letter, she hesitated.
Should she tell mum about the Chamber of Secrets and the petrified cat?
Instead of putting to paper all she heard from the professors and headmaster, Taylor mentioned a new mystery: a strange message on the wall and a cat found at the scene. She avoided trying to make it sound too bad (she didn’t want mum panicking), and didn’t put the secrets she listened to into the letter. If someone was reading her correspondence, she didn’t want anyone learning she had ways to listen to private conversations.
Thankfully, Taylor went through the letter pretty quickly, and without shedding tears. She was getting better at this.
Then she turned to Nap, squinting her eyes at the owl.
There was something very wrong with Nap. Or maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word. She was growing too fast, and even had a tuft of feathers that almost looked like horns in her head. Was she some sort of magic barn owl? Was that why she was getting so big? Did those even exist?
“Tell me the truth, Nap,” she whispered to the lazy bird. “Are you a magic barn owl?”
Nap’s big eyes blinked in what Taylor thought was annoyance. Her hoot definitely sounded annoyed. She nipped at Taylor’s fingers (ouch) when picking up mum’s letter, then flew away without even waiting for treats.
Still unsure what had happened, Taylor climbed on Luna’s bunk and tucked in, her back turned to her friend. Luna was still awake and waiting, and now she was going to start asking questions, Taylor just knew it.
“Daddy will be happy to hear about this conspiracy,” Luna said instead.
Taylor turned around, facing her friend and her big pretty silvery eyes. “Wha-uh?” she said eloquently.
“A heir, a secret chamber and an attack on school grounds.” Luna chirped, looking more animated than Taylor had seen her since the start of school. “What is it if not a conspiracy?”
Despite herself, Taylor grinned at her friend. What would Luna say when she learned this wasn’t even the first time the chamber had been opened? Call it a double conspiracy?