I am not the heir of Slytherin, I am Slytherin.

Chapter 21

No one POV

The group of six reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall and split up. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes.

The food was so delicious, that even after all of the sweets and butterbeer from Hogsmeade, the four helped themselves to a second round of everything. Luna joined them halfway through the feast.

At the staff table, Professor Lupin looked cheerful and as well as he ever did. He was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering toward Lupin more often than was natural?

Then it hit him. It was full moon the next night. That was why Professor Lupin was feeling sick. Professor Snape must have known.

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding. Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione, bidding Luna goodbye, followed the rest of the Gryffindors after the feast along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students. 

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed. 

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the hold up here? You can't all have forgotten the password — excuse me, I'm Head Boy —" 

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned. Those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived. They just shrugged.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait. The Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Harry, Neville, Ron, and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was. 

"Oh, my —" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. 

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor. Great chunks of it had been torn away completely.

Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him. 

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady." 

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry. He had been a student during the time of the founders.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. 

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added unconvincingly.