Chapter 10 – Slytherin's Tomb

"Slytherin's Tomb is a myth, perpetrated by those who are jealous of his legacy."

"Headmistress, it is counterproductive to try to defend his name by hiding the truth."

Headmistress Androyei looked outraged. She sputtered: "That you would… you…"

Aunt Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Me? Is there something you wanted to say about my inquiries?" She paused. "Or perhaps, my heritage?"

Both Lily and Uncle Ron's mouths fell open in amazement. Is she trying to goad her into calling her a… Lily couldn't even think it. Her aunt continued to have a small but wicked smile on her face. The flames from the fireplace in the Headmistress's office danced crazily across her spectacles.

Apparently the Headmistress realized she had gone way over the line. "Of course, not, Minister," she said hurriedly, and with a surprising degree of sincerity. "I never meant to suggest—"

"—then let us not speak of the matter anymore. Where is his tomb?"

"I do not know." Her aunt raised her eyebrow again. Beside her, Uncle Ron suppressed a snicker. "It is concealed by ancient magic, it has been said that all those who sought his final resting place never returned." Androyei glared at them after saying that, as if daring them to take up the idea and see what would happen if they did. "A dozen miles from here, beyond the southern mountains, that is where people began their search." She pointed her wand at the wall; a giant map showing the local area appeared, with Durmstrang in the center and a large red 'X' some distance beneath it.

"Thank you for your assistance, Headmistress. Good day." Lily was greatly relieved to be out of her presence, and minutes later outside of the school entirely. It suddenly occurred to her that during their visit, they had not seen a single student or teacher about while they were there.

"So, would you like to come along, Lily?" asked Aunt Hermione cheerily.

Lily was so astonished by the invitation her only response was a confused, "Uh?"

"Are you mad? You heard the lady, it's probably a whole field of cursed traps!" Her uncle sounded genuinely upset, not a trace of bemusement like before. This must be serious.

"Perhaps, but we've already seen that Lily's connection through Lucius Malfoy's blood gift has been essential to get us this far. Voldemort presumably managed to reach his tomb, and it was probably because of his blood connection to Slytherin. We will need the same."

Her aunt's words sort of made sense; her uncle did not offer a counter-argument. She turned to her again, her face kind. "Of course, if you don't wish to come, I will not force you."

She sounded a lot like her dad; it automatically brought the fight out of her. "I'm coming."

Aunt Hermione smiled. "Very good. Everyone grab a hold of hand." Lily and her uncle did so. "On three: one, two, three!" The world vanished.

Instantly they reappeared in another gloomy clearing, surrounded by tall, dark trees that seemed to stretch forever into a dark nothingness. Grey hills to the north of them were covered in mists, the early hint of dawn a gleam on the horizon. Far in the distance, a wolf howled.

Uncle Ron was spinning on his spot, wand at the ready, a grim and determined look in his face. Suddenly nervous, Lily fumbled for her wand, actually dropping it. She quickly bent down to pick it up and held it out, pointing at the darkness, trying to keep it steady.

Aunt Hermione raised her wand, and began softly muttering a strange language. She traced a circle above her head, over and over. A ghostly light flew out in all directions, disappearing into the twilight. She lowered her wand.

"What was that, 'Magicus Revelio', or something?" her uncle asked.

Her aunt began to laugh. "Dear, there's no such spell!"

"Well there oughta be! Right useful if there was."

She reached over and kissed him on the cheek; although sorely tempted, Lily did not turn away like she automatically did when her parents engaged in what she thought was all-too-frequent signs of affection. "You're a genius, dear!"

"I am?"

"You're correct, there's no modern spell that does that. Why would there be, it would detect everything!" She turned to Lily. "Ancient magic often required a much longer incantation to invoke. It makes it less convenient, but often more powerful."

"So how does it work?"

"Like your uncle said, I cast the equivalent of a Revelio spell, to search for magical concealment." She raised her wand again, pointing it outwards, slowly rotating in place. About a quarter-turn in, the tip of her wand began to glow. "This way."

They followed slowly behind her, wands at the ready. Even though it was becoming daylight, the mass of the forest around them made it a dark and foreboding trek. Soon the woods became so thick their pace had slowed to a crawl.

"Are we there yet?" Her uncle's words were more light-hearted than exasperated, but they didn't amuse her aunt.

"Just keep a watch out for werewolves!" Unlike Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione's words had a sardonic touch to them.

He grunted. "Werewolves I can handle. Just no spiders, please. One Aragog was enough for me, thank you!"

Lily understood the reference; it was one of the few stories her dad had willingly shared with them. For some reason, after that year he became much more reluctant to say anything. 'When you're married and have kids, then we'll get to Year 3!' he had joked. She found it not at all amusing.

Sighing, she contented herself with listening to her aunt and uncle trade barbs as only they could, this time about something called a grawp.

Some time later, when the sun was clearly at full strength even through the forest canopy, Aunt Hermione abruptly stopped. Raising her hand as a gesture for them to stay back, she held out her wand before her, swaying slightly left and right, in front of her.

Lily looked at her uncle, who smiled and simply shrugged. "I guess reading old books in the library wasn't a total waste of time for her after all."

"Guess not." She was moving rather afar off the beaten path they had followed. "Should we follow her?"

"Why not?" Her uncle led the way, and Lily followed close behind. For some time they followed after her aunt, not saying a word. Albus and the gang loved going into the Forbidden Forest, Lily thought sourly. Perhaps Rose and I should have took them up on the offer. Of course, the reason she didn't was that she wanted no part of Albus' schemes to do the forbidden but famed 'Harry Potter' tour that witches and wizards from a dozen classes before them had. It was all the worst because by seventh year he was actually claiming he knew them all!

If her dad had ever known about it, apparently he didn't respond. If I were him, I'd have zapped Albus' buttocks for such impudence! Then again, her dad was surprisingly tolerant about lots of things. It was always interesting to see where he drew the line—

"—Okay, I found it!" Immediately they hurried up to Aunt Hermione's side. Before them was… a small patch of dirt.

Her uncle was skeptical. "This is it?"

"Yes. And good thing Lily came along, because you're the only way we can uncover it."

Lily was suddenly nervous. "Uh, what do I do?"

Her aunt actually seemed stumped. Scratching her head (a most unusual gesture that she was sure she'd picked up from her uncle), she finally said: "Try standing in the middle and cast a 'Revelio' spell."

Lily did so. And nothing happened. Hmm…

Her aunt thought some more. "Parseltongue!"

Abruptly her uncle strode forward. "Allow me!" He began to clear his throat.

"Sorry, dear, that won't work." Her aunt seemed bemused for some strange reason. "Accio Serpentes!" A few seconds later a small green snake flew towards them.

"Gah!" Uncle Ron immediately leaped backward. As Aunt Hermione lowered the snake in front of Lily, she said nervously, "Aunt Hermione?"

"Don't worry. Imperio!" Lily was shocked, but said nothing. Then Aunt Hermione raised the snake up in the air. Through clenched teeth she said: "Lily, please hold out your left hand."

Gritting her teeth, she did so. The tiny serpent, less than a foot long, landed in it, and did not move away, but slowly coiled about her wrist. "Wasn't that illegal?"

"Only if it's used against a person," she replied instantly. "Step into the patch again, and hold up your wand." Lily complied. Her aunt began mouthing wordlessly, and Lily started as the tiny snake began hissing very loudly, but not the way a normal snake does; the hisses had a definite rhythm to them, almost musical.

The ground began to tremble. Abruptly the snake fell away and slithered off into the woods. "Quickly, Ron, with Lily!" They both jumped next to her, as the dirt patch beneath their feet sprouted thick green grass, then expanded in a concentric circle in all directions, actually pushing the forest back some fifty feet. The ground trembled some more; they all stepped back as a golden obelisk, twice as tall as her uncle, rose from the ground.

For a moment they were all speechless. "Well, that seemed to work," her uncle said waveringly. They approached the tombstone. In dazzling silver letters it read:

THE ETERNAL RESTING PLACE OF THE WARLOCK
SALAZAR SLYTHERIN
FIRST WIZARD OF THE WIZARDING WORLD
FOUNDER OF HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
MASTER OF THE KINGDOM OF UCHRONIA

THE SONS OF WIZARDS
SHALL ONE DAY RULE THE WORLD
IN HIS NAME
FOREVER

Something didn't seem right; then it hit her. "His tombstone didn't look like this, right? It was a simple stone head, if I remember correctly."

"You think You-Know-Who decided to spruce up his ancestor's grave?" Uncle Ron said with a hint of contempt.

"Exactly. And I bet he added those lines about 'the sons of wizards.' It sounds just like him," her aunt said grimly. She peered down at the rectangular platform of stone overlooked by the obelisk, running her wand over it. "There were many protective enchantments over the grave, but Voldemort must have removed them all."

"Uh, Hermione, you're not going to do what I think you are, are you?" her uncle said nervously.

"I'm afraid there's no other way."

"What if there's a curse?"

"I detect none."

"Are you sure?"

"Ron, clearly he's tampered with Slytherin's grave, if he survived opening it, we will."

Her uncle did not look convinced. "I sense no ancient magic, nor modern magic, within. My guess is, Voldemort disarmed any curses in place, then was content to rely on the old magical concealment. Wouldn't be the first time he took things for granted."

Her uncle sighed. "Alright. Stand behind me Lily—now!" Startled by the force of his command, she did so.

"Good idea, Ron." Gingerly she pointed her wand at the stone lid to Slytherin's sarcophagus. Trembling, it slowly floated up and away. Her aunt let it down on the ground with a thud, and the three of them peered inside.

Three feet below the ground lay the body of an extremely tall man, perfectly preserved and powerfully built, bald with a long flowing white beard (something like that of the old Headmaster Dumbledore, Lily thought, remembering his portrait) atop a purple-velvet-lined floor. Clothed in a pure black robe, he appeared to be sleeping. His arms were folded across his chest, grasping a rusty, chipped dagger—with a shock, Lily realized his hands, which had held the dagger, had rotted away, leaving nothing but moldy dust behind. Peering closer, his body was surrounded by a strange shimmering distortion, as if they were looking at him through moving water. But the dagger was completely clear.

"What's that?" her uncle asked. "Is that blood?"

Squinting, Lily leaned in, and indeed flecks of dark maroon appeared to line the dagger's edges.

Her aunt was at one side of the grave, Lily and her uncle at the other. "That distortion is a Preservation Charm," her aunt said. "It must have been extremely powerful to last to the present day. Probably cast by all the wizards you saw, Lily."

"His hands are gone," Lily said, pointing. "Do you think that blood on the dagger—that it's from the artisan? That it destroyed his hands" She could barely believe it, but if so, if the story was true…

"Only one way to find out," her uncle said. But before he could even begin to reach in, her aunt screamed: "No, Ron! Don't touch it! Or you'll become a Squib!"

Her uncle froze in mid-gesture, as if a Petrificus curse had been cast on him. "What are you saying?" Lily asked her. Although she suspected the truth, she had to hear it from her aunt before she could actually believe it.

Aunt Hermione spoke carefully: "I think we now know that Damath's tale was no story, but a completely true historical account." She shuddered. "Slytherin must have insisted he be buried with the dagger he used to kill the artisan—a symbol of his vengeance for Nagaini. Whatever…magic the artisan used, it must have been in his blood, since the Preservation Charm doesn't work in its presence."

"Blimey, you mean to say… You-Know-Who… came here, and ... and took that guy's blood from the dagger? And made it into some kind of anti-magic potion?" Her uncle looked horrified.

"As good an explanation as any," her aunt said, serious as a stone.

"How? How is that possible?" Lily fought to keep a rising feeling of hysteria down.

"The Ministry must investigate further." Her aunt stood up. "We need to take a sample of that blood back to study, perhaps we can then find an antidote." Her aunt conjured up a flask, then she pointed at the dagger. "Accio!"

Nothing happened, except for small pieces of the dagger flying off. Her aunt shook her head "What was I thinking, of course magic won't work on it! Please get me a very thin stick."

She and her uncle scoured the area. "Got one!" Her uncle ran back and handed her aunt a twig. Gently she lowered herself and tried to scrape up some blood. She got a few flakes, then carefully deposited it inside. Sighing with relief, she said: "Okay, let's get back to the Ministry—"

"—Aunt Hermione!" Lily shrieked; the flask was breaking up! It crumbled to dust, and the twig with the blood fell out.

"Don't let it touch the ground!" Lily was too far away; then her uncle dove, catching the twig in his traveling cloak.

"Ron!" Her aunt dropped her wand and rushed over to him.

"Save by Ron Weasley," he said with a grin. Lips quivering, her aunt hugged him fiercely. Standing up, she dabbed at her eyes.

"If that blood had touched the ground, it would have destroyed all the magical concealment in Slytherin's tomb," her aunt said quietly. "Everyone would be able to find it."

Her uncle was smiling, but he was sweating profusely, and his hands began to tremble as he lifted his cloak up, the twig with the blood resting on it.

"Now we go back to the Ministry?" Lily asked.

"Yes—No! We still need one more thing, the Prophecy!"

"'The Squib of Fate'," Lily repeated, uneasily. "I didn't like the sound of that."

"Neither do I, although prophecies don't always work out the way you think they do," her aunt quipped. "Let's look for it."

"Accio Prophecy!" her uncle said loudly. But nothing happened. "Okay, we'll just have to do it the hard way."

They searched the tomb and surrounding area for an hour, but they found nothing. "Do you think You-Know-Who took it?" uncle Ron asked, disappointed.

"Perhaps we overlooked it back in the Durmstrang library," her aunt replied in an equally disappointed tone of voice.

Lily said: "Do you think Lucius took it? He did take one scroll, and obviously it was not the Damath story one."

"Maybe. Ah, I hate prophecies!" her aunt said vehemently, then collected herself. "It doesn't matter, we have the important thing: Voldemort used the artisan's blood to create some kind of anti-magic weapon, and whoever this Nihilo is, somehow he discovered the secret, and is using it to attack the Wizarding world." Lily thought that was an admirably succinct and accurate summary of the situation.

"Heh, so he did have a weapon after all!"

Her aunt also laughed briefly at the inexplicable reference. But she was immediately all-business. "We have to get back to the Ministry. Ron, will you help me out?"

"Of course." The two of them resealed Slytherin's tomb, then with extraordinary care Ron picked up his cloak and the twig wrapped inside. They stepped outside, and just as Lily was about to ask her aunt if they needed to get another snake, the tomb area abruptly shrank and disappeared, once again replaced by forest.

They were about to Apparate back to Durmstrang when her aunt stopped them. "Wait, we don't know if the blood can be Apparated away."

"That's crazy," her uncle said, but he didn't sound confident. "Let's find out." Before Lily or her aunt could react, he took out his wand and Disapparated away. Ten feet away he re-Apparated, causing both Lily and her aunt to start.

"Ron!" "Uncle Ron!" the two women yelled out simultaneously.

He gingerly unwrapped his cloak. The twig was still there.

Aunt Hermione had a puzzled look on her face. "I don't understand."

"At least we know," her uncle said. "Maybe magic doesn't work on the blood, but as long as it's contained in a non-magical container, that container can be transported."

Her aunt smiled broadly. "Obviously."

"Come on, I'm hungry for lunch."

"Always thinking about food, aren't you Ronald"

"You know me so well."

Lily thought she was going to lose her lunch if her uncle and aunt kept expressing their affections for each other any longer. By contrast, the dark halls of Durmstrang would almost be a relief!