Author's Note:

This is still a dark chapter. Be warned.

Thanks very much to my Beta, Letomo. I should point out he did not do a second reading on this one due to my delay in sending it, so don't blame him for characters going OOC, that's all me.

The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello.

Speech: "Who's on first."

Thought: *What's on second.*

Vision: #I-don't-know's on third.#

Thanks to the latest to recommend me:

Reviews are much appreciated, they inspire me.

Chapter 9: Dark visions of the future

The rumours came to a head the third day after Justin's petrifaction. That the Ministry would act. That the school would be closed. That murderous Muggles were on their way to kill the pupils, by burning them at the stake. The rumours quieted down after a few days, but not by much. Not by much at all. The consensus was that pretty soon they'd come for Hagrid.

Luna Lovegood was not particularly good at seeing things that were there in the same way that others did. She was very good at seeing things others didn't. Which was why, while looking out of the windows of her dormitory, she was aware of the fact that The Gryffindor Trio was moving through the clouds of swarming Amphibious Greater Shiggers that had taken up residence in the castle's Fountain Courtyard to lay their eggs in the dungeons, so perfect a habitat that nature itself could not have created it. The Shiggers kept flying into them and the Trio kept hissing at each other to stop treading on each others feet.

But Luna did not think everything that went on was her business, so she found out with the rest of the school, at breakfast the next morning that the School Governors had removed Professor Dumbledore from his position and that Hagrid had fled and gone into hiding. That the Ministry held the opinion, still, that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin. But Luna knew someone who did know, and she was going to find them. One of them would be easy to find at least.

Harry Potter sat in the library, looking glum. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick…Even if Dumbledore believed him when he said he had nothing to do with it, nobody else did. And Dumbledore had been removed from his position and Hagrid had spent the last day crying. And someone, someone in Gryffindor, had broken into his dorm and stolen Riddle's diary, which was the only clue he had as to the things that were happening. Was Hagrid really the Heir? He'd denied it, but everybody knew the big man's love of magical creatures. Harry groaned. He needed to talk somebody. Someone smart and trustworthy. That meant exactly one person, and he knew exactly where to find her.

Hermione Granger was in the library, reading. Luna Lovegood seated herself next to the Gryffindor and the girl looked up, blinking.

"Oh. Hello, err…Luna."

"Hello, Hermione. Can you tell me what happened last night? I know you went out to Hagrid's."

Hermione sucked in a breath. "How would we do that? I mean, ?"

"The Shiggers around the pools in he courtyard. They kept flying into you." Luna shrugged. "A Shigger ward would have kept them away, but very few people know how to cast that anymore."

Hermione blinked her eyes at the girl. "Err…S-shiggers?" It was obvious the strange name did not inspire confidence in the older girl.

"Most people can't see them. But then most people don't see Disillusioned people either."

Hermione paled. "D-Disillusioned? We're only second years, we can't cast Disillusionment charms."

Madam Pince strode over to stop their conversation and Hermione seeing the mulish look on Luna's face, sighed and rose to leave. She did put a bookmark in her book and left her carrel neat, as if she would return soon. She led Luna to one of the small gardens and cast a minor warming charm on the stone seat and then looking up at Luna.

Luna sat down next to Hermione, tilting her head. "Yes. I don't know how you did it, of course, but you were. And I'd like to know what happened. You don't have to tell me, but maybe we can help."

Hermione looked around, trying to see who else was there.

Luna smiled. "Myrtle is reading in the library. Now, what happened? Please?"

Hermione looked off into the distance, as if wondering what to tell Luna and then shrugged.

"We went to talk to Hagrid because Harry was worried, and so were we. And then the Headmaster was there and then Lucius Malfoy…he wanted Hagrid to be sacked and arrested. Fudge was there to take him away, but the Headmaster brought up some odd law that said he couldn't be, because he was never condemned for the first attack and that Myrtle had identified Tom Riddle as her assailant."

Hermione took a deep breath and continues when Luna indicated she was following the summation. "Fudge was all confused but Mr. Malfoy insisted that Hagrid be removed. Professor Dumbledore refused, again and then Mr. Malfoy told him the Board of Governors believed he was no longer able to protect the school. Professor Dumbledore was sacked. Hagrid was nearly taken to Azkaban, but Dumbledore pointed out, again, that Myrtle had testified that Hagrid was not her murderer, Tom Riddle was. And then Professor Dumbledore left and we asked Hagrid if he was the heir but he said he wasn't. And we said we believed him but I don't know if he believed us when we told him so. And now Hagrid is sitting in his hut, crying, and Dumbledore is gone…and Professor McGonagall is the Acting Headmistress."

Luna nodded. "We thought as much. I wish we could find out how to open the Chamber of secrets and get down there…I wish I knew how Tom Riddle opened the thing in the forties."

There was a startled gasp from the archway and Harry looked at Luna with wide eyes. "Riddle? Riddle opened it the last time? He told me Hagrid did it!"

Luna glared at Harry. "Riddle told you and you believed him? He killed your parents for Morgaine's sake!" Then she blinked. "And how did he tell you this anyway?"

"The diary. R-Riddle killed my parents?"

Luna leaned forward. "Yes. Its Voldemort's real name, Myrtle told me. Now, about this diary."

Gilderoy Lockhart looked down at the battered little body that lay, tied up and crying on the bank of the Water of the Leith. He straightened his robes, humming a little to himself. He felt nicely relaxed and wonderfully calm. Centred. He knew exactly who was responsible for his lack of success at Hogwarts. And now that the old bastard was gone, he could finally enjoy the perks of his position. He looked over at the girl on the ground and pointed his wand. "Obliviate!" The girl stiffened and glared at him, struggling against the ropes. Lockhart noted that she'd once again almost pulled herself free. And she also did not react in the way she should. She did not look dazed when the memory erasing spell took hold. This was worrisome. Lockhart sighed and raised his wand once more. "Incarcerous!"

He saw the spell take hold and then walked back to the girl. "I'm sorry, my dear, but you seem entirely too aware of things." He put a foot under the girl's body and flipped her deftly into the river. The ropes would dissolve in a few hours. And by that time the girl would be dead and Gilderoy Lockhart back at Hogwarts.

The Curfew instituted to safeguard the students after the petrifaction of Justin limited the movements of the students considerably. The teachers too, were hindered in theirs, and in their freedom. Such as the freedom to keep track of black hearted colleagues. Snape and Flitwick had been busy punishing a group of Ravenclaws and Gryffindor fourth years that'd chosen today to experiment in boat building. First the professors had had to fish them from the bloody lake after the squid ate their boats, and then the punishment had to be set. And that had meant that the only one watching Gilderoy Lockhart was a useless, vapid fool.

Severus Snape strode towards the rooms of Sybill Trelawny, anger radiating off him in waves. Students scurried away, trying to get out of his path, to avoid his notice, and the resultant loss of points and free time. He arrived at the chambers and knocked, thunderously. The door opened. Snape blinked. Unlike the classroom, Trelawny's rooms were spare. A few paintings, Snape recognized Cassandra Trelawny, hung on the bare stone walls. A window seat with cushions. Many, many books, primarily on history. No ottomans, or Persian rugs, or incense, curtains or veils. Trelawny was sitting in the window seat, looking out over the surrounding countryside. She was holding a glass of fire whisky and a half empty bottle was next to her. A completely empty one was on the table.

"Do you know why I drink, Severus?" She asked, conversationally, but with a slurring of her voice that showed that she'd had more than one glass already.

"I assume it is to forget?" Severus automatically replied. "Or some such rot."

"No. Or, not just. I drink so that there is nothing for me to want to forget. Do you know what alcohol does to the Inner Eye?"

"I don't care. What I care about is that you are supposed to be watching Lockhart! He's apparated out. Some poor Muggle is girl probably in his clutches now!"

"It prevents the power actively taking control; it suppresses the more vivid parts of the visions. Only the most important, most vital visions, the great prophecies, get through." Sybill continued as if Snape hadn't spoken.

"Oh, really? What did they tell you about Lockhart?" Snape sneered.

"Terrible things. Horrible things." She looked at him owlishly through her huge glasses. Her voice became dead and flat. "It is time for you to leave. You will find him, and his victim, by the Waters of the Leith in Muggle Edinburgh." She took another swig of firewhisky. "Do be a dear and close the door on your way out."

Snape gaped at her. The woman seemed absolutely certain of herself. And he knew she did have real visions. He turned, slamming the door behind him, and hurried to the nearest floo to get to Edinburgh. He'd Apparate from the Magic Mile. Sybill looked morosely at her cat. "You know, Tiberius…That is a very angry man. And I don't think he likes me very much…It will make it difficult to get what I need from him later." She closed her eyes and sighed.

Severus Snape was quite familiar with Edinburgh. He'd long ago decided that some Muggle amenities were quite pleasant. Literature for one and music was another thing Wizards did not seem to understand. Not a single legible novel or acceptable piece of music had been produced by Wizarding Society in a thousand years, no matter how hard they tried to claim Shakespeare as one of their own. Chemistry warranted his attention due to its possible connections to potioneering.

Normally he was here on jaunts into bookstores or universities, to keep up with Muggle Science and technology. Dumbledore was certain the Dark Lord would return, and the Dark Lord did not think Muggles were dangerous, or had anything worth watching. Severus Snape believed differently, and he would make certain his side, and he sneered at the thought of calling it the side of the light, had every possible advantage. Neither Muggle nor Pureblood would rule over Severus Snape.

But right now he was here to save a girl. No one deserved to be at the mercy of the likes of a beast like Lockhart, Muggle or not. Snape gritted his teeth as he felt the slimy, putrefying presence that was Lockhart. A tracking charm gave an excellent impression of the tracked being's Aura. None of the Professors had held any doubts as to Lockhart's character after Flitwick had cast his masterful spell one evening in the Teacher's Lounge, as Lockhart had waxed lyrical about his prowess and the ease with which he could defeat the monster plaguing he school if only he would be given a free hand.

Snape's mouth twisted with distaste. He knew exactly what Lockhart wanted a free hand with, and the man would die before Snape let that happen. Other men might have said that they would die before they'd let that happen, but Severus Snape was quite certain that in any sort of contest with Lockhart he would come out victorious and Lockhart, well Lockhart would not come out.

He twisted on his heel and Apparated into the valley of the Water of the Leith. He felt the miasma of Lockhart immediately, and then he felt it leave. But there was something else, powerful, but fading. Snape ran towards the fading point of life. He tore of his robes and dove into the cold water, ignoring the weight of his clothes. He grabbed at the girl, but encountered only bare skin, not clothes and growled. *Lockhart is going to pay for this.*

He managed to grab the dissolving ropes that held her and struck strongly with his legs, dragging her to the surface. He pulled her onto the shore as he moved himself, dragged out his wand and wordlessly cast warming and drying charms on the girl and then cast Pulmonos Aeris and Sphyxis charms to empty the girl's lungs of water and fill them with air and restart her heart, moving on to mutter the incantations for various general healing spells.

He was interrupted by a sob. "Oh, God…Ellie…"

"Are you her father?" Snape asked of the big raw boned man in grey tweed with the tartan waist coast who fell to his knees beside him and the girl. He didn't stop his magical ministrations, the lungs were delicate and if the girl was to be healed completely he needed to continue. He could always Obliviate the man later.

"No…Yes. Yes I am."

"She has been attacked. The man who did it…I will deal with him."

A hand landed on Snape's shoulder, and the wizard looked over his shoulder to see a smaller, slightly more genteel man in grey brown tweed. "I don't think so, wizard. The Watchers' Council will deal with him."

Snape raised an eyebrow sneered, hiding his surprise at being identified and so accosted. "The Watchers' Council did nothing when a criminal xenophobe tried to take over the world. They won't bother about a couple of girls." The girl coughed and spewed out a several mouthfuls of water. Snape nodded to himself, the spells were working in clearing her lungs.

"My robes are over there. There's only so much that warming charms can do." Severus saw no purpose in keeping his magical identity secret. These men knew about the wizarding world, and the fact that the attack had been perpetrated by a wizard. He was just glad they hadn't attacked him while he was tending the child. The shorter of the two men, the one who had known he was a wizard, fetched the robes and Severus carefully wrapped the naked girl in them, handing her to her father, or the man who claimed to be.

"I'll be back later to claim my robes, and bring some potions that help with the after effects of her near drowning, to strengthen the lungs and so on. If you'll let me, I can cast a spell to see what was used on her and… "

"Do it." The big man said, not waiting for Snape to finish.

Severus nodded and waved his wand, muttering a spell he himself had devised. He relaxed perceptibly. "Nothing dark, thank Merlin. A few common potions will see to those effects, if any remain." He laid a gentle hand along the girl's face, noticing her quick recovery. "If they are even needed. Who…what is she?"

The big man leaned down. "She is the Slayer. Her name is Ellie. Ellie…Burgoyne. A definite who." His voice was rough and full of anger.

Severus nodded. "My apologies, sir. I've seen too many demons…It you would let me have your names, I will find you…but now I have a rapist to meet." He stood up smoothly and looked at the two men, then smiled grimly. "I can let you have what's left, if you want?"

Robson and Burgoyne exchanged glances. "That might be nice." Burgoyne said in a conversational tone, hugging the little girl to his chest.

"I'll see to it personally." Severus Snape took three steps back and Apparated back to his Floo point. With luck, he'd be waiting for Lockhart when the bastard came back to the school.

Silvanus Kettleburn tried to whistle as he marched awkwardly over the last bits of rough ground to the Groundskeeper's house. His movements were unequal as he only had half of a real leg left and even magical prosthetics could only do so much. The whistling was difficult with only half a lip. He was twenty years older than Albus Dumbledore, and he felt every one of them. People made jokes about his missing limbs and that he had no control over the magical creatures he dealt with.

Few remembered he'd cut off his own left arm below the elbow before a werewolf's bite could infect him. Even fewer knew he'd lost his lower right leg during aerial combat in the First Wizarding War. He carried as many scars as Moody, but lacked even the grudging respect the elder Auror received. And that was fine by Silvanus. It really was. He scratched his scarred chin, wondering again if he should shave his beard. It covered the scars…but were the scars of a fully grown Norwegian Blue, killed in a mating flight as it sought to devour a bus full of Muggles really a bad thing?

He thumbed the door with his artificial fist. "Hagrid! Open up, boy!"

The door remained closed. Kettleburn groused, took his wand out of his pocket, shook of a handful of Bittering Grubs, rubbed it a little to get the clove oil he'd used on the infected tooth of the Hippogriff he was showing the third years off, and thrust it at the huge beams that formed the door to Hagrid's house.

"Alohamora!" The door flew open and revealed the younger man's messy living room. The huge three headed dog wagged its tail at Kettleburn and the old man hobbled in, patting each head in turn.

"Well, boy? Are you going to wallow in self pity here the rest of your life?" He spoke severely to the man sitting at the table.

Hagrid looked up, his eyes red rimmed, his hair and beard matted. "'Ullo Perfesser Kettleburn."

"Silvanus, Rubeus. I've told you before. Now, get up and get a shower. From what I understood from Albus before he had to leave, Moaning Myrtle is willing to swear you had nothing to do with her death. Which makes sense, you make about the least likely heir of Slythering I can think of."

Hagrid blinked, slowly. "Err?"

"Hagrid, not only are you a half blood, you're a half giant." Kettleburn pointed out, impatiently. "Now, shower!"

Hagrid paled, his usually rosy complexion turning ashen. "I'm no' a half giant!"

"Of course you are. Boy, I've taught care of magical creatures for longer than Albus has been at this school…do you honestly think we did not know the minute you set foot here? And do you think either Albus or I gave a single sweaty hair on Merlin's jockstrapped balls?"

"Ah. Err…." Hagrid seemed rather surprised at the ease with which Kettleburn accepted his ancestry.

"Shower. And then we'll discuss how we can help Albus. But first we'll go eat."

"Arrigh'."

Hermione, Luna and Harry sat talking quietly in the little garden. Behind them, hidden deeply in a deep green rhododendron bush, Ginny Weasley sat, eyes wide and staring, clutching a quill that dripped ink on the blank pages of the thin book lying open on her knees, her mind gone within its unwritten words.

She sat there even after the three others had been hustled off by a worried, and scolding, professor Flitwick. She sat there until she moved to the corridor outside the second floor girls' loo, and wrote her message on the wall: Her bones will lie in the Chamber forever.

"I know what you did, Lockhart. And you will not go unpunished."

Lockhart froze at the words, spoken softly in a silky smooth voice, like living velvet. He looked around into the dark, cold eyes of the potions master, his sneering face set in an expression of disgust and hate.

"You have no evidence, Snape."

"I need none, all I need is a few days and a quite place." Snape smirked. Lockhart shuddered, and quickly left the teachers' Lounge.

Gilderoy Lockhart swore vociferously as he threw his last clothes into his trunk. The idiots actually wanted him to hunt down the bloody Basilisk! As if he wanted to fight the Merlin Blasted thing! And Snape kept eying him in a way that Lockhart did not like…Lockhart shivered. Ever since the first Duelling Club session Snape had eyed him in a way he did not like. Assessing, measuring. And if the special meeting about the little Weasley girl had not been called…Snape would have been waiting for him, he was certain. He needed to get out of Hogwarts, and far away from Snape. Canada. They loved him in Canada! *Still, a pity about the Weasley girl.* he mused, I never did get to put her through her paces…*

He shrank his luggage with a wave of his wand and a muttered spell and shoved it in his pocket. He would take the door in the Old Rose Garden, Snape would not expect that.

Hogwarts was going to be closed. Two people were petrified and a Firstie was missing. Everybody was in shock.

"Miss Clearwater? You are needed." The wispy yet clear voice of the Grey lady rang through the silence of the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Penelope shook herself? "Milady?" The Grey Lady, on average, spoke only once a year. Otherwise her gestures and facial expressions were enough to convey what she wanted.

"You did write a Letter of intent, did you not?" The Lady asked pointedly.

Penelope gasped and stammered. "Y-yes, Milady."

"Then I suggest that you come with me, your intended needs you." The Lady was rather matter of fact about it, but Penelope blushed a bright red.

"How…"

"You two were being rather obvious. And you left the letter on your bed one day. And yes, I put it in the box." She raised an eyebrow at two sniggering seventh years. "And there had better be a Letter of Intent going to your parents as well, Mr. Kendall, Miss Halliwell. And soon." The two gulped and blushed.

Penelope nodded. "Does Professor Flitwick…"

"He and Professor McGonagall are both aware of the situation, but Professor Sprout will be your escort, the others are all patrolling the hallways, trying to find an entrance to the Chamber."

"Oh. Ummm. Thank you, Milady."

"Actually, it was Myrtle's idea. She'll make a fine House ghost, if she does not decide to pass on."

They walked down the staircase and Professor Sprout accompanied them to the Gryffindor tower. Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, who had been asked to fill in for Sir Nicholas was waiting and bowed deeply. "Milady."

"Sir Patrick. This is Miss Clearwater."

Sir Patrick inclined his head to Penelope and nodded at the Fat Lady, who swung aside without asking for a password.

"Call for me when you wish to leave, but the Gryffindor ladies have prepared a bed for you, should you prefer that." Sir Patrick said kindly, and then gestured at the stairs. "You will find Mr. Weasley in the Common Room, with his brothers. They prevented him from locking himself up or doing himself bodily harm. You have permission to enter the Boys' Dorms, but Her Ladyship assures me she will know if there is any err…"

"Conjugation." The Lady said dryly. "Thank you Sir Patrick, Lady Astrid." She nodded at the portrait and floated away, serenely.

Sir Patrick looked at the portrait and raised a spectral eyebrow. "Lady Astrid?"

"Who else but she would know my name, Sir Patrick? She knows everything about this school."

Patrick looked after the floating form of the Grey Lady, as always shrouded in immense sadness. "Yes. Yes I suppose she does."

Percy was sitting like a shattered wreck in the Gryffindor common room. Penelope took one look at him and rushed to his side, hugging him to her chest. Percy buried his head in her shoulder and started to sob.

Fred and George gaped at the scene. Fred managed to stammer his amazement. "Percy?"

"With a girl?" George continued.

"A beautiful girl?" Fred added.

"With Penelope Clearwater?" They chorused.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, yes. Obviously."

Ron was staring at the wall, ignoring the byplay of his brother's romantic entanglements. "We should have figured it out. We know where the Chamber is! We should know who the heir is! We should know who the bloody heir is!" He moaned.

Hermione's eyes widened in sudden realization and her lips moved as she worked something out. Then she jumped up and dragged Harry off, Ron, sensing something was up, followed. They stopped just outside the portrait of the Fat lady. "Harry! I know what opens the door! I know what marks the Heir of Slytherin!" Hermione whispered fiercely.

Harry gave her a disbelieving look. "You do?"

"Yes, you see! Heir! It's about being is actual heir, what's inherited! You see, an item can be lost and so can a password, so it has to something that Slytherin would be certain only his heir would have, and that would mean it passing down the bloodline and the thing about his blood he was proudest of besides it being so pure was the fact that he was a Parseltongue!" Hermione finished triumphantly.

Ron blinked and then gawped. "Through blood! Not a thing…an ability! The bloody snake on the bloody faucet. You have to talk to the snake, Harry!"

Hermione glared at Ron's use of language. "Well, yes. Obviously. Like I said. Harry, the way to open the door is to speak Parselmouth at it. The faucet. The bronze one, with the snake, that will open the door." She glared a bit more at Ron for stealing the thunder of that final revelation.

"B-But…I speak Parseltongue! I know I'm not the heir!" Harry spluttered. "You both know that!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously! We know you're not the Heir, we would know if you weren't but that isn't important right now."

Ron nodded at Harry's confused expression. "There's another bloke in the school who speaks Parseltongue. And that's the heir. And it isn't important because you can speak Parseltongue, and open the Chamber, save Ginny and after that, we find the bastard and…" His hand closed convulsively on his spello taped wand.

End Note:

Thanks to Alastor for pointing out Sir Nicholas was partially petrified. He has been replaced.