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Chapter 10:
The days forwarded idly by with no major happenstance occurring after the droning ghost relayed the ominous tale of the Chamber of Secrets. Thranduil spent a fortnight observing the three comrades hatch up a scheme in discovering who this Heir of Slytherin could possibly be, their main contender being the uncouth boy.
Although the King found the uncouth boy to be suspicious, especially with him lacking care and sympathy toward those who risk being turned into stone and his spouting off that vile word like free candy, Thranduil believed Electra and her friends to be jumping into conclusions. A young boy, barely of the adolescent age would be unable to cast such dark sorcery.
Annoyed at the mindless sheep continuously pointing the blame toward the young Istari he had grown utterly fond off, Thranduil managed to reel in his temper and glide alongside the trio in his ethereal state.
An odd occurrence ensued when the trio departed one afternoon from their lesson, only to confront multiple spiders creating a passage outside the castle walls in means of a thin web. Usually, the King would pay no heed to such an idle occurrence, no matter how odd it may be, however, this wizarding world managed in educating Thranduil that no mere happenchance was a coincidence.
The fortnight after the ghost informed them of the tale behind the Chamber of Secrets, Thranduil found himself listening in as the trio plotted on a scheme to gain information from the uncouth boy.
"Malfoy the Heir of Slytherin?" Lavender couldn't veil the skepticism from her voice, and Thranduil agreed wholeheartedly with her assessment. Electra and Neville too, agreed, however, they decided that the uncouth boy may hold answers to the recurring enigma.
They hatched the plan of concocting a potion by the name of … Polajuice …Polyjuice Potion, allowing them to take form of somebody else giving them leeway into entering the Slytherin Common Room and grabbing information they so desired.
"Snape mentioned in class that it was in a book called Most Potente Potions, bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library," Electra pointed out.
Amusement was the main emotion that took over Thranduil's visage when he witnessed their formulated plan of gaining a teacher's signature to retrieve the forbidden book. They decided to accolade the blonde phony after their Defense lesson, garnering a horrendously loopy signature where he barely glimpsed upon the title of the book.
Phony indeed.
The trio decided to concoct the intricate potion in the bathroom chamber where the moping annoyance of a weeping ghost resided, confident that the population of female Istaris avoided the chamber like the plague and would be uninterrupted.
Neville, due to his wholly fear of the hook-nosed abhorrent Professor was a novice in the art of potion-making, and while Electra was more than mediocre, Thranduil discovered that Lavender was deftly competent due to her mother's profession. Lady Brown owned her own store of beauty products and taught her daughter how to concoct proper potions, even complex ones, and therefore, the Polyjuice Potion would be of no dilemma to the underage Istaris.
Thranduil applauded the trio's resolution in discovering the perpetrator behind the beginning attacks, however, the bitter King desperately hoped beyond hope that they would mind their own concerns and keep themselves afar from the tremendous trouble brewing ahead. There was no hesitation in the beliefs that the house-elf 'Dobby' spoke of protecting Electra from the Chamber of Secrets being said plot.
*** (The Elvenking & the Pure of Heart) ***
Thranduil was torn between excitement over observing Electra's Quidditch match, and concern. It would be too much of a coincidence if danger struck yet again during the first game of the year … would it?
The bitter King hoped not; gritting his teeth upon taking note of the uncouth boy harassing her in the air, he couldn't help but gape in disbelief. The boy was a novice, only succeeding in taking part of the opposing team due to bribery and corruption. However, not a mere minute into the game, his heart lurched, threatening to dispel from his throat when he observed the swift miss as the iron hard ball – the Bludger – nearly guillotined Electra.
Closely observing, crystal blue eyes narrowed meaningfully in outrage … the darned Bludger was spelled into tailing the redhead in the air.
Why was it, every starting broomstick game of the year had a culprit try to achieve in maiming young Electra?
A vein introduced itself onto Thranduil's flawless forehead, and threatened to erupt when the Captain Wood agreed with Electra's plea in continuing the dastardly pointless game, risking her life with the stalking Bludger.
"Oliver, this is insane," one of the Chasers – Alicia, the blonde – yelled out in unveiled anger, "You can't let Electra deal with that thing on her own. Let's ask for an inquiry-"Thranduil decided he was quite fond of that Istari Chaser. In fact, the redhead twins and the other female Chasers aimlessly attempted in convincing the Captain and Electra in forfeiting the game – to no avail.
Electra Amycate Potter was a foolishly stubborn Istari.
The King was in awe, unable to tear his crystal gaze from her deft skill in the air; avoiding that accursed deathtrap gracefully and agilely with smoothly articulate and elegant precision … she almost resembled a prowess dancer in the air, and Thranduil was mesmerized.
His awed concentration broke when that dastard Bludger connected with her arm, and a mere moment afterwards, she clutched the golden ball deftly in her grasp from right beneath the uncouth boy's nose before collapsing onto the ground. However, not all was well … succeeding one pitfall only to succumb to another by that utterly phony blonde who forcefully manhandled his way into healing her arm and managing to vanish the bones from her limbs.
"You moron! How did you manage to botch up a simple spell," Lavender yelled quite vehemently at the phony, resulting in the surrounding mass to give her berth in fear of encumbering her wrath. "You vanished her bones!"
Yes, suffice to say, the matron too was utterly displeased. Poor Electra was in for a painful night; according the matron, re-growing bones was a complex and agonizing process and Thranduil winced at the excruciating pain as he clutched his strong arm to his chest in an involuntary reaction.
If Thranduil believed the night to lack illumination, he was sadly, severely mistaken; Dobby decided to pay the young Istari a visit, awakening her from her slumber.
"Electra Potter came back to school," the house-elf was miserable, glancing adoring and fawning eyes onto the pained Istari, "Dobby warned and warned Electra Potter. Ah miss, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Electra Potter go back home when his Bludger was effective?"
HIS BLUDGER!
Thranduil raged and seethed, taking advantage of the fact that nobody would hear his enraged yelling. That idiotic house-elf may have good intentions, yet his actions in carrying out 'protection' were deplorable! The sycophant believed if Electra was hurt enough then she would be sent home.
Fool!
Damnation!
The female Istari obtained cunning. She managed to skillfully and subtly coerce Dobby into parting information about the mythical Chamber, discovering it had been opened once before fifty years ago.
Definitely not the uncouth boy then… Unfortunately, before the house-elf could relay more, several bodies entered the Healing Chambers.
Grave crystal eyes fixated upon the young child that fawned over Electra with that clicking contraption … the second victim of the mysterious perpetrator turned into stone. Thranduil felt an ominous chill, and he feared the young Istaris' survival. Who would be so cruel as to harm children, mere babes barely into adolescence?
*** (The Elvenking & the Pure of Heart) ***
The mystery of Electra being able to communicate with snakes had been uncovered in the most blatantly horrific of ways. Rumors now spread upon the castle as nearly every Istari adamantly believed young Electra to be the cause for the brutal attacks, and fire filled Thranduil's veins at the implication and blind blame.
It all began when that utter phony of an instructor whose only successful spell was in maintaining his grooming decided on instructing the students how to duel for protection against the perpetrator. The abhorrent hook-nosed professor had Electra duel against the uncouth boy, muttering a blasphemous scheme into his ear.
The uncouth boy then proceeded in conjuring a snake against her; the snake conversely, could not be tamed nor controlled and went to strike the young audience when all of a sudden, Electra began hissing strange words, successfully communicating with the snake and ceasing it from maiming a boy from the yellow house.
The two remnants of the trio yanked the baffled green-eyed Istari from the scene and afar from the numerous fearful glances, into an empty chamber, where they proceeded to inform her that she was in fact a … parselmouth, an affinity meant for conversing with snakes.
Ostensibly, that specific affinity was not common, nor was it appreciated in their community. Evidently the last known Istari with the ability to communicate with snakes, holding the gift of Parselmouth was the Dark Istari passed on to those with the same bloodline as Salazar Slytherin, given why their house emblem is that of a snake.
"Now, the whole school is going to think you're Slytherin's great-great-great-great-granddaughter or something," Lavender pityingly informed her. The newfound affinity hit young Electra abysmally, however, Neville and Lavender stood faithfully by her side, sending death glares of malicious intent to those murmuring despicably behind her back, blaming her for the attacks and concluding her to be a Dark Istari.
How utterly blasphemous. They impiously degrade her, the girl who had a death sentence on her head at the age of one, the girl whose mother had, according to the bigots, 'impure blood' and they carelessly vindicate her as Dark. Disgraceful.
Overhearing the yellow house harping about her in the privacy of the library overwhelmed the King with justified anger; following the incensed yet miserable Istari around the castle, she stumbled upon the petrified boy the snake nearly maimed not long ago.
The poor girl had a horrible run-in with commiserations.
What was mind-boggling however was that not only was the boy infected by the perpetrator … the decapitated ghost of the lions ended up being a victim. How on Arda could a dead spirit be harmed by these vicious attacks? What would affect a ghost, for Eru's sake!?
The cat Professor was given no choice but to guide Electra over to the Headmaster's office filled with curious devices puffing smoke around the room. After a short yet brutal conversation with the sorting hat, informing her that she would have done well in Slytherin, the Headmaster appeared just as the striking red and gold bird engulfed into flames.
King Thranduil received quite a shock when he proceeded to witness the strange bird bequeathed the name Fawkes, regrow from the ashes as a newborn.
Phoenixes.
What a curiously exquisite creature… Elrond would be utterly fascinated with its description and multitude of usage; they burst into flames when it is time for them to move on and are reborn from the ashes … they can carry immensely heavy loads … their tears have healing powers … how marvelously enchanting.
Thranduil then bore witness as the kind giant barged into the Headmaster's Chamber carrying a dead rooster of all things, and began vehemently arguing in loud voices that Electra was innocent. The sentiment and loyalty was astounding and the bitter King couldn't help but smile fondly, particularly when the old man was in complete agreement with that certain assessment.
*** (The Elvenking & the Pure of Heart) ***
Events began to take a drastic turn as Winter approached; while the Elves of the Woodland Realm began busying themselves with the preparation for the regal Winter Ball that usually took place in the Palace, King Thranduil observed in his subconscious as the trio carried out their finalized scheme in imbibing the intricate potion.
Lavender and Neville signed their names alongside Electra for remaining in the castle during the holiday, especially when they overheard the uncouth boy staying behind with his bodyguards. It was the ultimately perfect timing to garner answers about the Chamber of Secrets and they wouldn't be wasting the precious silver lining that befell them.
After the feast concluded, Electra and Neville carried out the seamless plan of alienating and barricading the bodyguards lest they arrive into the Slytherin Common Room with their double selves interrogating the uncouth boy. They laced two cakes with a sleeping draught and levitated it into the air …. The buffoons blindly snatched them and gobbled it wholly before collapsing onto the ground.
Such fatuous, inane boys with no fundamental wits whatsoever.
Lavender managed to achieve a lock of blonde hair from a Slytherin girl, also remaining in the castle, barricading her in an empty chamber while the duo grabbed the locks from the mindless buffoons.
What marvelous creation … the person who first discovered concocting the certain Polyjuice Potion was ingenious, a feat Mithrandir would immensely take interest in. Thranduil observed in gobsmacked wonder as the three Istaris transformed into another form, their skin bubbling and transforming, growing in size, receding hair …
Although it looked to be a painful transformation, it was indeed entrancing.
The labyrinth was complex; luckily for the trio, they ran into the uncouth boy who guided them into the Common Room underground in the dungeon.
Observing his surroundings, Thranduil took note of the glaringly color of green splashed around on the furniture, even the ambience had green lightening much to the trio's chagrin. Thranduil's ire dangerously risked imploding when the uncouth boy complained that 'no mudbloods died yet.'
Apparently, fifty years ago, a poor girl was not fortunate to become petrified … the girl died. The uncouth boy was informed quite sternly by his Adar to not involve himself in the attacks, and Thranduil finally knew, the Adar Malfoy was the culprit behind the petrification of the Istaris.
It was on that disappointing note that the three disguised Istari fled from the dungeons and into the morbid bathroom chamber with no name behind the attacks and more questions needed to be answered … one fact they mutually agreed on, was that the uncouth boy was not responsible, merely reveling in the fear and danger wreaking Hogwarts.
*** (The Elvenking & the Pure of Heart) ***
An odd day occurred and the trio coincidentally stumbled upon the revolting caretaker yelling about cleaning muck; following the trail of the yelling, they found themselves situated in the morbid bathroom of the moping ghost once again.
Thranduil stared curiously at the diary lying innocently by its lonesome in the puddle of water. Ignoring her comrades' warnings, Electra stubbornly grabbed the book and the trio spent a confusing moment depicting the usage for the blank book with the title of T. M. Riddle.
It wasn't written in invisible; the book was merely blank, never having been used.
Overhearing the strange anomaly, the redheaded troublesome twins ambled over to their side and informed them of one of their many detentions in cleaning the trophy room where they stumbled upon a large trophy of T. M. Riddle who had apparently gotten an award for special services to the school fifty years ago.
Coincidence? Thranduil thought not.
How coincidental must it be for a diary to appear out of thin air thrown away by some Istari, simultaneously when the Chamber of Secrets opened and victims were being petrified … an occurrence that transpired once, fifty years ago. Thranduil learned long ago during these odd dreams, that in this strange world, there are no mere coincidences.
Thranduil found it utterly anomalous how Electra carried the empty, unusual diary along with her everywhere; overhearing her casually mention to her comrades that she felt as though it were a long-lost-friend, worried him immensely. Such sentiments were bizarre, and a portentous sensation tugged on the bitter King's heartstrings.
It was the start of Echuir, the Stirring season in the Woodland Realm, and when Thranduil slumbered, he found himself awakening to the revolting scene of the Great Hall lavished in atrocious frills of pink and lurid paper shapes drizzling from the ceiling depicting the weather outside the castle.
The blonde phony himself donned lurid pink garments with a ridiculous smile on his smarmy face, announcing to the Istaris a sickening speech.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" This holiday apparently, was one that lovers celebrated, and adorers proclaim their love to one another, bequeathing gifts to one another. That phony received forty-six cards from sycophantic mindless females. As though that weren't horrible enough, the phony hired a dozen surly-looking dwarves who retain zero resemblance to the dwarves of Arda.
Imagining the expressions on Thror, Thráin and Thorin's visage, Thranduil vividly assumed them taking this to be one of the deepest offense; they were adorned with golden wings and carrying harps, ordered to sing ridiculous love songs and gifts to the Istaris like infatuated fools.
The dwarves of this world would make a mockery of the Line of Durin, and Thranduil grimaced, recalling Dobby the house-elf. It seemed that this magical world differed entirely from Arda, especially in regard to the Race of Elves and the Race of Dwarves.
Electra and Lavender received many Valentines from the opposite gender, much to their ire. It was quite mortifying to be halted endlessly throughout the day, being serenaded ridiculous limericks and sonnets and blockaded from entering their classroom in time.
Such a disastrous event occurred when Electra tired of all the blockage and ignored one of the many dwarves that called on her for the umpteenth time that day, resulting in a broken book bag and ink smashing all over her books, engulfing them in ink. Coincidentally, that unintentional event solved the riddling enigma of the blank diary, and the results were quite appalling.
The diary wrote back and Thranduil knew, deep inside, that it was a result of dark sorcery. Inopportunely to the King's distress, he was unable to converse his suspicions with the young Istari, merely stand by as an observer and watch chaos ensue.
The kind and gentle giant, Electra's very first and foremost friend, was expelled due to the attacks fifty years ago. The owner of said diary, Tom, showed Electra a memory of his from fifty years ago when he caught Hagrid to be the perpetrator of the attacks.
"That's preposterous; a spider is not responsible for these attacks. Spiders don't petrify," Lavender was only too quick to point out the obvious fact and Thranduil agreed with the sharp blonde.
"Besides, Hagrid would never harm a fly. This Tom person caught the wrong person," Neville loyally added.
Incensed over the expulsion of an innocent, Thranduil observed Electra share the exact sentiment. The trio mutually agreed on probing the giant if another attack occurred.
Oddly enough, seasons passed and there had yet to be another attack, and although Thranduil was relieved, he couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that ominously trailed the young Istari he had grown fond of, around the castle.
Thranduil gaped in shock upon witnessing the shambles and destruction of the girls' dormitory; somebody had pilfered through Electra's possessions, purposely searching for the blank diary.
Reservations arose; Lavender vehemently pointed out that only a Gryffindor knew their password, unless somebody from another house had them steal the diary which was doubtful. Also, those from the male gender were unable to enter the female dormitories. Hence, the conclusion of the pilferer being a female Gryffindor, and unfortunately, there were many unsuspecting suspects who could have carried out the dastard deed.
The next Quidditch match was against the yellow house, all of whom feared Electra, believing her as the culprit behind the attacks; King Thranduil observed as the cat lady cancelled the game for reasons unknown, and a part of the bitter King felt relief nobody would attempt in harming her, as such had become the routine for nearly every broom flying game.
Curiously, the young Istari heard a hissing noise threatening to maim and kill just before the cat lady interrupted … nobody else but Electra had the ability to hear the ominously sinister voice … Thranduil concluded this so-called monster in the Chamber of Secrets to be a snake, be it mythical or factual.
What sort of snake could slither unseen and petrify students with the intent to kill? Thranduil was oblivious to the magical creatures existing in this strange world of Earth, however he assured it was dangerously volatile, and a snake no young Istari should approach.
King Thranduil observed the trio sit morosely in the common room after the announcement of the bushy-haired beaver's petrification came to light. Not that the three were friendly with the bossy know-it-all, but their house loyalty and compassionate personality had them solemnly grieving.
Smacking a hand onto his forehead, Thranduil glared in a mixture of resignation and annoyance when the trio grabbed the Invisibility Cloak that belonged to James Potter and mutually decided with such aggravating confidence that the time to visit the giant and garner answers was at the current predicament, after curfew and after a student got attacked.
Those children would end up being the death of King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm … they hold no caution for themselves, only toward protecting others, and while many would call it a humble trait, Thranduil called it sticking their nose where it doesn't belong with no care over whether or not they lived or survived. Thranduil desperately wanted to berate them and give a tongue-thrashing of a lifetime … Thank Eru, Legolas never troubled him so during his adolescence.
The giant was trembling, anxiously alternating eye contact from the trio to the windows, as though he were harried over something. Something he greatly feared. But of course, the giant barely berated them for being out of bed … no, he began offering cake and tea.
Before Thranduil could burst a vessel, a loud knock echoed, and the trio hastened over to the corner under the fireplace, throwing the cloak around them, out of sight.
Thranduil indolently leaned against the fireplace, gazing with unamused eyes at the outlandishly bizarre-dressed man who entered alongside the Headmaster; with the King's impeccable hearing, he overheard the young Istaris short conversation, discovering the strange man to be the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
The minister looked impeccably unimpressive in the warrior King's eyes… he looked to be a coward, hiding behind others in confrontation with a horrible vision of fairness. All in all, King Thranduil judged the 'Minister' to be horrendously inept in a high-ranking position.
Thranduil sucked in a sharp intake of breath upon uncovering the outlandish man's reason for barging into the giant's hut at the ungodly hour. The attack against Muggleborns escalated and the Istaris were pressurizing him to act upon it.
The kind giant was nothing but collateral damage to this blithering idiot, and Thranduil grimaced, imagining a body from the Race of Men in a high-ranking position, ruling unfairly.
"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," the Headmaster instantly announced, and the King found himself nodding in approval, especially when he ascertained the frown sent toward the now blustering fool who began fiddling nervously with that ridiculous hat of his.
Oh, Valar.
The situation merely worsened drastically when the Adar of the uncouth boy arrived, stating that the 'Board of Governors…?' voted the Headmaster into departing the school.
Adept in unearthing lies, King Thranduil glared, noting deftly the victorious smirk that introduced itself onto the elder Malfoy's face. Yes, now he knew without a doubt, the Adar of the uncouth boy was responsible for the attacks currently happening in the castle to further some personal agenda of his.
The giant was terrified of the Wizarding prison Azkaban, wholly frightened he began shaking uncontrollably.
"You will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." Thranduil's eyes narrowed as the Headmaster's eyes focused intently on where the young Istaris were invisibly hidden, stressing each word slowly so that none would miss a word. The old Istari was truly powerful if he noted their position, even when invisible.
Before Thranduil awoke from his deep slumber, the last parting words of the giant reverberated in his mind, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders."
Groaning into the palm of his hands, King Thranduil felt a foreboding sensation and he knew that the next events would be stupendously dangerous.
Recalling the peculiar behavior of the spiders after the petrification of the cat, Thranduil reiterated his pervious thoughts …
Nothing in this magical world was a coincidence.
A/N: Did you all enjoy this chapter?
Next chapter will be the last for Book 2, and the start of the Prisoner of Azkaban.
Hermione still got petrified since she is a bookworm preferring to go to the library than watch Quidditch. Maybe a few thought that I'd have Lavender petrified … No. She is a pureblood and not a book fanatic to escape to the library during a game like Hermione did in canon.
For those curious… Lavender took a hair from Daphne Greengrass for the Polyjuice Potion.
BTW! Question for my readers; would you prefer Electra to confront Riddle and the Basilisk alone, or have Neville and Lavender or at least one of them alongside her? Things will be different since they don't have a Ron with a broken wand, therefore I will be changing that scene. Let me know…
R&R.