Hagrid and the Reopened Chamber of Secrets (I)

Madara gave a slight nod.

"Tonight," he said. "Cass Palaiologos."

The boy who had been standing in the shadows behind Draco stepped forward. His footsteps were light, like a feline treading over fallen leaves. Cass Palaiologos—the boy who had caused an uproar by speaking Parseltongue at the same time as Harry in Duelling Club.

His face was lean, and his features carried a calmness far too mature for his age. In the dim light, his black eyes seemed especially deep, like two bottomless wells.

"Cass." Madara looked at him, the Magatama in his scarlet Sharingan no longer spinning, resting silently in his pupils like two congealed drops of blood. "Go to Severus Snape's office now. Your excuse is that you need advice on Potions. Say that the Draught of Living Death you brewed last week turned purplish and had too low a freezing point. Severus Snape won't refuse a student with a 'genuine pursuit' of Potions. While you're there, no matter what alarms you hear or signals you see, remain there for a full two hours."

Cass nodded slightly without speaking. He bowed, then turned away, his black robe cutting a clean arc at his side like an emotionless snake.

"Carmichael, you're coming with me to the Chamber of Secrets." Madara raised a hand, and a mass of darkness gathered in his palm. Carmichael immediately closed his notebook, tucked it into an inner pocket of his robe, and hurried to Madara's side.

"Draco, once you're out, tell Daphne she can return to the dormitory. Don't let anyone notice anything unusual. As for what happens tonight, you know nothing." Madara's tone did not change in his final sentence, but Draco knew it was not a suggestion.

"Yes, Lord Madara." Draco bowed deeply.

Madara's figure warped and stretched before the dormitory fireplace