The next day, early in the morning Ronan was sitting in the courtyard, behind the humped witch statue. He was engrossed in his book when he heard footsteps approaching, only to see the twins coming toward him.

“Good morning, George, Fred.” He closed his book, “I hope that calling you here this urgently didnt fouled any of your plans?”

“Anything for you mate,” one of them said, “How can we say no to our most valued customer,”

“I am happy to hear that,” Ronan then got up and passed them a piece of parchment, “I want to smuggle in, this thing. It is a muggle gaming device. And please dont ask me, what this does. I will not be able to explain it to you,”

“A muggle item,” one of them took the chit, “Why would you need something like this?” the other one asked.

“I am making currently working on a secret project. For that, I would need one this thing,”

The brother holding the chit read it out loud, “One PlayStation controller” The other one then asked, “What does this even do?”

“I dont have time nor the patience to tell you guys what you need to know. For now, get this... This controller can fetch you guys 20 galleons. So, are you in or are you out?”

The twins looked at each other, then both bloomed a smile on their faces, “We are happy to serve you, Lord Black,” they both said in unison.

That particular evening Ronan was making his way towards the Room. He had filled his stomach with cupcakes during evening tea, so he was not going to Great Hall for supper. Taking the staircase that directly led to the second floor, he was on his way when he bumped into someone very familiar.

“Weasley,” He greeted the Prefect Percy Weasley, the only person from the redhead’s family who seemed sane to him.

“Johanson,” he greeted back as a courtesy.

They seemed to heading the same way and soon came to the spot where the incident happened that night. It was then the door of the girl’s bathroom was flung open. Out came Longbottom and his gang, making Ronan rather curious as to what they were doing there.

“RON!” Percy yelled and came running towards the group. “That’s a girls’ bathroom!” he gasped. “What were you guy…”

“Just having a look around.” Ron shrugged, “Clues, you know…” He stopped as he spotted Ronan coming towards them.

“Want to become the next Sherlock Holmes, are we Weasley?” he said to the boy.

“Who?” Ron said. Everyone was a little confused except for Harry and Hermione.

Percy on the other hand ignored his remark, and with fury on his face, said, “Get. Away. From. Here.” He said, while his neck became tomato red, “Dont you care what it looks like? Coming back here when you should be heading to Great Hall for supper…”

“Why shouldn’t we be here?” said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. “Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat! It was him that did it, why aren't you yelling at him?”

Hearing this Ronan commented, “I was at the wrong place, at the wrong time Weasley. Also, it is not like I have been looking around in the girl’s bathroom,”

“We were looking for clues,” Longbottom said angrily.

“It doesn't matter what you were doing in there,” Percy said, “You all were in the girl’s bathroom. Just think about your actions Ron. Think about Ginny. She is having a hard time adjusting here. Every first year is interested in this business and they are harassing her for an answer because you are her brother.”

“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 tersely, fingering his perfect 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. And then the boy strode off, huffing angrily.

“I cannot understand your family,” Ronan said, “How that guy, you, and the twins are related to each other is just beyond me,” With that Ronan went away…

***

That night the mood in Gryffindor's common room was a little bit sour. Because of their previous encounter with Percy and Ronan, Ron insisted that they sit on the other side of Percy. They were busy doing their homework, but based on what they had done since that time they had been sitting here, no one wanted to do anything.

It was then Hermione shut her The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2. “Who can it be, though?” she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. “Who would want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?”

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“Let’s think,” said Ron in mock puzzlement. “Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?”

“If you are talking about Ronan, I dont think that he has any problem with Muggle-borns or Squibs,” Harry said.

“I agree,” Hermione said, “He is an eccentric boy, but not a nutter who would do that to Mrs. Norris.”

“As much I would like to refute you,” Ron said, “I dont think Ronan was behind the incident,”

Longbottom looked confused, “What made you change your mind?”

Ron shook his head, “I am not saying he is innocent. I am saying that he might be the mastermind behind the incident. But he is involved in some other way… I mean think about it, Ronan is best friend the guy we know hates muggles born from the bottom of his heart,”

“Malfoy?” Longbottom said.

“Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?” said Hermione skeptically.

“Look at his family,” said Harry, joining in the suspicion of Ron, “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.”

“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?” said Longbottom darkly, “Without proof, we cannot prove anything.”

“There might be a way,” said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. “Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We would be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect…”

“What is it?” Longbottom asked,

“What we’d need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it’s us.”

“But that’s impossible,” Longbottom said as Ron laughed.

“No, it’s not,” said Hermione. “All we’d need would be some Polyjuice Potion.”

“What’s that?” said Ron and Harry together. While Longbottom was amazed, “Do you know how to procure some of it?”

“No. But I think I can brew it,” Hermione said.

“Can anyone tell us what this potion does,” Ron said irritably.

“It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into four of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He’s probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now if only we could hear him.” Hermione said.

But Ron was not convinced, “This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me,” said Ron, frowning. “What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?”

“It wears off after a while,” said Hermione, “But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it’s bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library.”

There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher. “Hard to see why we’d want the book, really,” said Ron, “if we weren’t going to try and make one of the potions.”

“I think,” said Hermione, “that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance. . . .”

“Oh, come on, no teacher’s going to fall for that,” said Ron. “They’d have to be really thick. . . .” Everyone’e eyes widened with realization…

***

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits.

He usually picked Neville to help him with these reconstructions, and so far, Neville had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.

For this particular lecture as well, Neville was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. If he hadn’t had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, he would have refused to do it

“Nice loud howl, Neville — exactly — and then, if you’ll believe it, I pounced — like this — slammed him to the floor — thus — with one hand, I managed to hold him down — with my other, I put my wand to his throat — I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm — he let out a piteous moan — go on, Neville — higher than that — good — the fur vanished — the fangs shrank — and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective — and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks.”

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet. “Homework — compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!”

The class began to leave. Neville returned to the back of the room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.

“Ready?” Neville muttered.

“Wait till everyone’s gone,” said Hermione nervously, she gestured towards Ronan who was looking straight in the eye as he got from his seat.

“All right . . .” Neville said.

She approached Lockhart’s desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Harry, Neville and Ron right behind her.

“Professor Lockhart?” Hermione stammered. “I wanted to… to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading.” She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. “But the thing is, it’s in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it.. I’m sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms..”

“Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!” said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. “Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?”

“Oh, yes,” said Hermione eagerly. “So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer… ”

“Well, I’m sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help,” said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. “Yes, nice, isn’t it?” he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron’s face. “I usually save it for book signings.” He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.

“So, Harry,” said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. “Tomorrow’s the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you’re a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don’t hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players. . . .”

Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after Ron, Neville and Hermione