An Other Eventful Halloween.
Dear Mr. Lupin,
I hope this letter finds you well - if it finds you at all, that is. Let me just say, you are a very hard man to find. But I digress, first thing first let me introduce myself. My name is Draco Malfoy, while you might know me as the heir to Malfoy name I also happen to be a Black and last but the most important I am the godson of Severus Snape.
I find myself compelled to clear a few things in regards to Snape. Despite his outward demeanor and stoic apperance Snape is not a malevolent figure. The indifference he bears as a shield is sturdy enough to hide the true softness, per se, of his heart.
As his godson, I have had the privillege of glimpsing the sides of Snape that is loving, kindhearted, cherishes emotions as loyalty, comraderie and friendship and most of all knows the value of love. His heart carries the burden of unpleasant histories and unrequited emotions which are starting to wear on his mind now.
While I explicitly agree that I have no prior or clear knowledge of the matters that transpired among you both, I do believe there is more that needs to be discussed and revisited.
I want to make it clear that I in no way plan to manipulate or sabotage your decisions regarding your personal matters, however, as of a couple of weeks ago, I believe I owe it to my godfather to bring my observations to your knowledge.
A couple of weeks ago I found Snape in quite a dastardly and vulnerable condition. I want to emphasize that in the meager twelve years of my life I have never known Snape to be a drunkard or someone to imbibe in alcohol. But to my shock I found him extreley intoxicated and on the verge of a mental breakdown.
I believe it to be your annivarsary of some sorts as Snape adamantly informed me. He spoke of the two of you. You and Sirius Black. How he learnt what love was and how his love for you both proved to be a travesty and a curse instead of a blessing. Since that night I have found him on multiple occassions reminiscing about the two of you, of how he failed to protect Sirius and lost you in the process.
Despite his stoic emotionless facade there’s an undeniable void that only your presence seems capable of filling. I might be a good company for a few moments but he needs his partner or at the very least the closer to move on with his life.
I realise I can not help you in finding your third as of now, which I deeply regret however I do think that your return could bring a measure of solace to Snape that he craves. Please consider my invitation with an open heart knowing that the passage of time has only deepend Snape’s feelings and emotions for you.
Sincerely,
Draco.
P.S: I would caution you not to tell the reason behind your return (if you choose to do so) with any, especially Professor Dumbledore.
Draco was tired, a little depressed, and extremely overworked. Things were progressing too slowly for his liking. The Stupid System was still a no-show, Ginny was getting paler and sicker by the second, Remus was still not answering, and the only saving grace was Harry finally agreeing to meet a couple of solicitors recommended by McGonagall and Narcissa.
Halloween arrived on a gloomy, rainy day, providing the perfect atmosphere for a creepy night. By five o’clock, Greg, Vince, and Ron had convinced them to have an early dinner before going to Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party. Luna was too intrigued by the concept, meaning they would not make it back before dinner ended.
After an early dinner, they separated to get ready, with a promise to meet outside the Great Hall by seven o’clock in all their costume glory. Draco was finally getting his RuPaul moment, and it was everything. Everyone looked great, but he couldn't stop gushing over Luna, Ginny, and Pansy.
Pansy, with her black hair and pale skin in a midnight black toga-style dress; Luna, with her golden (more silver-blond) hair in a shimmery white mermaid dress; and Ginny, with her red hair and red/black (maroon?) off-the-shoulder dress, were an extravagant, breath-stealing sight. (These three were going to be unstoppable.)
And Yes, Draco was ignoring Harry. He did not have the time to get lost in those bright green eyes or marvel at how good the spelled red hair looked on him. Or how perfectly the crown sat on his head. Did he mention the white pirate-y shirt tucked into the red cummerbund and the red cloak? The absolute perfection that Harry was in his royal regalia? The pouty luscious red lips (courtesy of Pansy's lip tint) or the annoying frown that just added to the whole Savage Red King aura. Draco would gladly be off with his head for this Harry, but no. He was not going to focus on Harry.
The passageway leading to the dungeons where the party was held was lined with candles – long, thin, jet-black tapers and blue light casting a dim glow, making their appearance ghostly. Despite all this, the overall vibe was rather cheerful. The temperature kept dropping as they got closer to the party. Harry shivered, drawing his cloak tightly around him. Draco marveled at the girls being oblivious to the cold despite their dresses and cast a warming spell at Harry, who finally lost his frown and smiled at Draco, moving closer to him.
“Is that supposed to be music?” Pansy whispered as they heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping over an enormous blackboard.
“I’ve heard worse,” Draco commented.
“I doubt it,” Hermione doubted.
“What could be best, though?” Blaise marveled.
“Beetlejuice,” Draco replied without a thought.
“You know Beetlejuice?” Harry asked, surprised.
“Who doesn’t?” Draco shrugged.
“Umm… us, mate?” Ron pointed towards the others who looked skeptical.
“Who wouldn’t with taste?” Draco rephrased as Hermione snorted and explained what Beetlejuice was to the others, while Harry looked at him with wonder.
“My dear friends,” Headless Nick greeted them as they turned the corner and came to the party, “Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…” he led them inside.
It was a beautiful sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly white translucent people, like silhouettes, mostly drifting around a crowded dancefloor waltzing to a dreadful, quivering sound of thirty musical saws played by an orchestra on a raised platform.
“Looks like there will be plenty of candidates for you to write that article, finally,” Pansy pointed out to Luna.
“Oh, yes!” Luna was bouncing with excitement.
“After you…” Ginny bowed and swept her hand through the air to lead Luna, followed by Pansy, to a group of ghosts.
“Care to dance?” Theo led Blaise and Neville to the dancefloor. (Honestly, dance to what?)
Greg and Vince were going to a group of ghosts who seemed to be having an arm-wrestling contest.
“Shall we have a look around?” Harry suggested, offering his hand to Draco.
“Careful not to walk through anyone,” Ron advised as they moved towards the dancefloor as well.
They danced or tried their best for a while before making rounds through a group of nuns, a cheery Hufflepuff ghost, a ghost with an arrow pierced through his head, the Fat Friar, and a Stoic Bloody Baron.
Draco was commenting on their socializing skills when they were stopped by a ghost dressed in a bad disco outfit (yes, they exist, the outfit that is).
“Hello, good fellow,” the ghost said to Harry, “You look awfully familiar, do I know you?”
“That depends on when you died, now doesn’t it?” Draco sassed. (That was weird.)
“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry for my manners. My name is Nicholas Braywood. I died in the first war somewhere in the '70s.”
“Oh…” Harry looked at Draco, uncertain. “I’m not sure if we have met before, though. I’m Harry Potter, by the way.”
“That’s right… Potter… you wouldn’t happen to be the prodigal son of one James Potter now, would you?” The ghost looked excited. “Of course, you look exactly like him. Like James Potter.”
“I do?” Harry said astounded by the turn of events.
“Yes… yes, you do, well, except for the eyes. You have Lily Evans’s eyes. Smart, very smart girl beyond her years to be real. I never understood what she saw in that Potter guy. Well, her and that Black kid. Always with James Potter, never up to any good, I tell you. I thought he and James were a thing before they announced the wedding, you know. The Potter Evans wedding.” The ghost kept going without paying attention to Harry and Draco or how shocked they were.
“What? You mean Sirius Black?” Draco asked, (but he thought Sirius was with Snape).
“Oh no, not the Gryffindor one, the Slytherin one… Reggie?… no no, Regulus. That’s right, Regulus Black.”
“What?” Draco shouted,
“What is he saying?” Harry said, clearly just as shocked as Draco.
However, any further discussion was halted by an anxious Hermione rushing towards them trying to nudge them towards the exit.
“We need to leave; I don’t want to talk to Moaning Myrtle…” Hermione said as an explanation.
“Who?” Harry asked, confounded at the twists and turns the night was taking.
“She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom.” Hermione explained.
“She haunts a toilet?” Harry looked at Draco.
“Yes, it’s been out of order…”
“Do not eat the food, mate.” A disappointed Ron said as he came to them, accompanied by similarly disappointed-looking Greg and Vince.
“Food should never be dishonored like that,” Vince said as if his nightmares had come to life.
They turned to the food tables to see for themselves (because they were idiots, obviously). From afar, the food looked fine, but on a closer look, they found the food rotten and covered in fungus and mold. One of the ghosts was going through a giant cake.
“Can they taste it if they walk through it?” Harry asked.
“Seems like.” Draco replied, equally mystified.
They were stopped by Peeves. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a broad grin on his face.
“Hello Peeves,” Luna said as she joined them.
“Nibbles?” Peeves offered them a plate filled with fungus-covered peanuts.
“No thanks.” Ron replied, looking a little too green for Draco’s comfort.
“Heard you talking about poor Myrtle. Rude you were about poor Myrtle.” Peeves pointed at Hermione, his eyes bright with mischief. “OY! MYRTLE!” He shouted before anyone could stop him. They were promptly joined by a gloomy-looking, thick-glasses-wearing ghost in a school uniform.
“What?” She asked sulkily.
“Miss Granger was just talking about you… saying…” Peeves said slyly.
“Just saying - how nice you look tonight,” Hermione said, nudging Ron and Pansy. “Right?”
Myrtle eyed them suspiciously. “You were making fun of me,” she said, silver tears brimming in her eyes.
“No - honestly,” Hermione tried.
“Don’t lie to me,” Myrtle gasped as tears started flowing down her cheeks; she burst into sobs as she fled from the dungeons.
Draco gave Peeves a scalding glare as he followed Myrtle, Harry and Luna following him.
“Myrtle… Myrtle…” Draco called out.
“Do you think I don’t know what people call me behind my back?” Myrtle accused them. “Fat Myrtle, Ugly Myrtle…”
“Oh dear…”
It took Luna and Draco quite some time to calm her down and console her. By the time the others joined them, Myrtle was in a better mood, and they had promised her to visit her bathroom. (Draco realized how it was becoming a habit of him visiting the girls' bathrooms, first with the troll and now with Myrtle.)
As they went back through the dungeons, Ron, Vince, and Greg discussed whether to go to the Hall or just visit the kitchens for food when Harry stopped abruptly.
“Harry, what are you -?”
“Do you hear that?” Harry asked urgently.
“Hear what?” Blaise questioned.
“The voice… it’s… Listen!” Harry said.
Draco belatedly realized that Ginny was not with them, and what Harry was hearing at the same time as Harry sprinted through the dungeons up the first floor.
“Harry, stop.” Draco called out as they followed him up the stairs.
“Why is it always you guys?” Theo mused, amused.
“Never a normal moment.” Pansy said.
“Hey! We made it almost two months event-free…” Draco defended.
“I… I smell blood…” Neville said, looking pale and afraid. The humor left the group at once.
“It’s going to kill someone.” Harry shouted as everyone hurtled through the second floor searching.
“Harry, what is it?” Ron asked, wiping sweat from his face.
“Where is Ginny?” Draco asked.
“She went to our room - “Pansy was saying as Hermione gasped, pointing to the wall. As they edged closer, the shimmering became clear to be something written in a dark matter.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BE AWARE.
“What’s that thing hanging underneath?” Neville pointed with a light quiver to his voice.
All of them realized at the same time what it was - Mrs. Norris - and jumped back.
“Let’s get out of here.” Greg said.
“Shouldn’t we try and help?” Luna said.
“Trust me, we don’t want to be found here.” Pansy said as she guided her away from the corridor.
But it was too late. In just a couple of minutes, the corridor was bustling with students coming out of the Great Hall as the feast ended, and they were surrounded.
“Enemies of The Heir, be aware! You’ll be next, mudblood!” Montague was cackling, pointing at Hermione.