That line didn't an much to Harry—or to most Gryffindors, for that matter.
"What happened?" Harry asked Cohen and Hermione after McGonagall left. "Why'd she say… 'dangerous'?"
Hermione filled him in on what she and Cohen had seen.
"Filch is dead too?" Ron's eyes went wide. "I was just joking earlier…"
"No one's suspecting you, Ron," Hermione said, then turned to Harry. "Harry, you were with Lockhart the whole ti, right?"
"Yeah—he kept rambling on about 'fa being a fickle friend' and 'celebrities needing to act the part,'" Harry said, feeling sothing off. "But… if he was the killer, he wouldn't have been in the office then, right?"
"So the murderer's still out there, and the professors don't have a clue," Hermione said, her voice shaky. "If they'd only gone after cats, it wouldn't be *this* bad, but now they've attacked a person…"
"There's a big difference between a cat-killing creep and a murderer," Cohen nodded. Because, well, Lockhart was the one who'd gone after the cat.
"But the victim being Filch? That kinda makes it seem like a student might've done it," Ron reasoned. "Think about it—everyone hates Filch. If so kid knew a way to take him out and just happened to get stuck in detention with him—"
He trailed off, suddenly speechless.
"We're the ones who just got detention with him," Hermione said, her face paling. "And we were the first ones to find him—*after* he was attacked."
"But… it can't be you guys!" Harry said, panicking. "You don't even know what spell hit Filch—"
"The killer could just say the sa thing," Ron pointed out, still uneasy. "How do you prove you're innocent?"
"The Prior Incantato spell," Hermione said, though she didn't sound convinced. "It can check what spells our wands have cast recently—but what if it wasn't a spell? Rember the writing on the wall when Mrs. Norris got attacked?"
"'The Chamber has been opened'?" Harry asked. "What's the Chamber of Secrets? Hogwarts is full of hidden rooms, but it's not just so random empty classroom. Maybe there's sothing in the library about it?"
"I've gone through tons of books—nothing ntions a 'Chamber,'" Hermione said, shaking her head. "*Hogwarts: A History* is checked out right now. Last ti, people laughed it off as a joke, but so still wanted to dig into what it really is. I've got my own copy at ho, but I didn't bring it this term…"
"Why not?" Ron asked.
"Because Lockhart's textbooks took up all the space!" Hermione snapped, her patience with Lockhart long gone. "There's no room in my trunk for an extra thousand-page brick. I should've gotten an owl—then I could've had my parents send it over."
"You can borrow Hedwig," Harry offered. "But it might take a few days to get here—London's kinda far."
Even with McGonagall's stern warning to stay in the Gryffindor common room, Harry couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in bed.
"Cohen… Cohen…" he whispered toward Cohen's side of the dorm.
"What, summoning my soul or sothing?"
Cohen poked his head out from under the covers. The moonlight outside was dim, leaving the dorm so dark you could barely see your hand in front of your face.
"Hermione said you stopped her outside Filch's door today—did you hear sothing?" Harry asked, uncertain. "Rember last ti? We heard that voice in the walls, then those two rats died—and there was writing sared on the wall, 'Where are you'…"
"Yeah, I heard it," Cohen admitted. "There was a 'kill you' voice coming from inside, sa as what we heard in the walls last ti. But I didn't wanna tell everyone—hearing voices no one else can hear isn't exactly normal in the wizarding world. It'd just make us look more suspicious, especially right now."
"Could it be a ghost?" Harry guessed. "It moves through walls—ghosts can do that."
"Ghosts can't hurt people," Cohen said through a yawn. "Let the professors handle it. Go to sleep."
Cohen knew Harry wouldn't let it go that easily.
But Voldemort seed to have the sa plan—he still acted like Cohen had no idea Lockhart was his puppet, determined to fra him no matter what.
At midnight, Cohen dread again. He figured he deserved the title of Hogwarts' Dream King by now—this was the *nth* ti he'd dread about that sa snake…
The Basilisk slithered through pipes—but sothing felt off about the perspective.
If he was seeing through the snake's eyes… how could he see its whole body?
Last ti, the view felt normal, first-person. Now it was suddenly third-person.
Could the Basilisk pull its soul out of its body too?
[*Here…*]
The voice was *right next to him*!!!
Cohen jolted awake—Harry shot up at the sa ti.
It was still pitch-black outside, the dorm swallowed in shadows.
"Did you hear that?" Harry said, voice trembling. "I swear it sounded like it was under my bed!"
"Under the bed?"
Cohen's tone was oddly calm.
"I don't think so…"
Because Cohen could feel sothing big and cold pressed against his leg—
[*Soul Strength: 40*]
Sa soul strength as before, but Cohen could tell this one was… related to him sohow.
"It's in my bed."
Even if they were family, you don't just slither into soone's bed without a heads-up!
*Thud!*
Sothing hit the floor with a wet smack and bolted toward the dorm door, yanking Cohen's blanket off in the process.
"And it stole my blanket! In the middle of the night!"
Cohen fud.
No manners!
[*Chamber… find …*]
The dorm door slamd open, waking everyone up.
"What's going on?" Ron mumbled, groggy.
"Did sothing explode?!" Seamus jolted upright.
"Nah, just a pervert invading the dorm," Cohen said, lighting his wand tip to inspect his bed.
At least it hadn't left any dead rats or creepy snacks behind—small rcies.
"What *was* that?" Harry asked, peering into the dark doorway. It'd been too shadowy to see clearly.
"Looked like a snake," Cohen said. "Gross! I've never had anything crawl into my bed before. I feel violated…"
"Didn't it just say—" Harry started, then stopped himself, rembering Cohen's warning about looking suspicious.
"Should we tell McGonagall?" Seamus asked. "A snake sneaking into the dorm—what if it bites soone?"
(*End of Chapter*)
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