Harry Potter and the Fortunate Queen

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.

"Live 'uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Chris, Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).

"Why do I feel he is kind of Lockhart part 2?" Chris whispered to Harry and Ron. 

Ron and Harry chuckled.

"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.

"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say .... look at the fellow ...."

"I think," said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, "Nick's very — frightening and — er —"

"Ha!" yelled Sir Patrick's head. "Bet he asked you to say that!"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Nick is a very respected ghost in Hogwarts," Chris said confidently.

Sir Patrick looked at Chris curiously.

Chris continued looking at Sir Patrick, "I think, Nick is an amusing and impressive ghost. But the best quality of him is that he's not arrogant at all. I guess you need a very big-heart for that."

"I agree." Said Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost.

"I respect Sir Nick very much." Some other ghosts murmured with the agreement.

Sir Patrick's face twitched. Nick smiled and slightly nodded at Chris's direction. Chris smiled back.

"I think our work here is done. Let's leave. I am starving." She said to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

They nodded and left the dungeon.

"Pudding might not be finished yet," said Ron hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the entrance hall.

Suddenly Harry stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Harry, what're you .....?" Ron asked.

"It's that voice again ..... shut up a minute..." Harry lean towards the wall. "Listen!"

Ron and Hermione froze, watching him. Chris raised an eyebrow and tried to listen if there was any voice but there was nothing. She watched Harry's expression and saw it was a mixture of fear and excitement as he stared at the dark ceiling.

"Harry, is that voice coming from up there?" Chris asked.

"No. It's going up. This way," he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. Chris, Hermione and Ron followed him.

It was no good hoping to hear anything near the Entrance Hall, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall.

Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor.

"Harry, what're we..." Hermione tried to stop him.

"SHH!"

Harry wasn't in the mood of listening.

"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted.

Chris froze for a moment.

'Are we following a killer?'

Chris understood she needs to stop that craziness before things go out of hand. Harry ran up the next flight of steps three at a time. Chris skipped the stairs fast and came in front of Harry. Harry almost collided with her.

"Chris... what are you..." said Harry.

"Harry, everyone is at the feast. Only we are here and only YOU can hear that voice. Have you thought it can be a trap? Maybe the voice is trying to get you alone and Kill YOU." Chris said angrily.

Harry looked at her, dumbstruck, realising her words could be true. He looked back at Hermione and Ron who were sweating and breathing heavily behind him.

"No one of you heard the voice?" Harry asked them. Both Ron and Hermione shook their heads.

"I think Chris is right." Added Hermione.

"But... but... if it kills someone?" Harry tried to protest looking at Chris.

"Do you think you can stop it?" Chris said raising her eyebrows. "And if something goes wrong, are you ready to sacrifice your friends' life to that killer."

Harry looked at Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces and Chris's face.

"I... I.... don't... No..." Harry hung his head.

Suddenly a rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. They heard the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people.

Chris touched Harry's shoulder.

"It's ok. Sometimes you need to let things go for good." Chris said as Harry looked at her.

Harry sighed.

They started to make their way towards their dormitory when they heard a shrieking sound from the corridor where they were heading before. The four of them looked at each other, all looking tensed. They ran towards the sound went into the last passage. Everyone was crowded over something in the middle. They made their way to the front, something was shining on the wall ahead. Then they saw foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. 

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE. 

"What's that thing .... hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.

As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped. There was a large puddle of water on the floor. Chris grabbed him and prevent him from falling, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All four of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backwards with a splash. Mrs Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

"Oh, God!" Moaned Hermione.

"I hope she is not dead," Chris said looking at the cat closely.

Everyone else was terrified. Suddenly they heard a loud voice.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You will be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat and then he looked at Chris.

Chris glared at him.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"How do you know that Malfoy. Did You? Did you did this to Mrs Norris?" Chris said loudly.

Malfoy's smile vanished from his face. Everyone looked at him.

"My cat! My cat!" Filch eyes fell on Harry.

"You!" he screeched. "You! You have murdered my cat! You have killed her! I'll kill you! I'll ..."

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, Hermione and Chris, and detached Mrs Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger and Miss Norton."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster.... just upstairs ... please feel free..."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore. The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore, so did Professors McGonagall and Snape. As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls. Chris saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry was looking lost.

We went there after so many people still Harry is the suspect. He is really lucky.

Chris looked at Hermione who was looking very tensed. The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her ..... probably the Transmogrifian Torture ..... I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her. . . ." Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs Norris, his face in his hands. Chris felt bad.

"Is she really a dead professor? I mean she can be just stunned too. Couldn't she?"

Hearing Chris, Filch looked at her with hope in his eyes. He looked back to Mrs Norris.

"No no, Miss. Norton. I'm sorry but she is dead." Lockhart said with a sad smile.

Like he was laughing on Chris's naive thoughts. But this made Chris angry. She turned her face towards Dumbledore who was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs Norris with his wand, but nothing happened: She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed. Lockhart continued to brag his stories.

At last, Dumbledore straightened up.

"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs Norris. "But why's she all ..... all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore.

"Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart.

Chris felt disgusted.