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Chapter 10: Hogwarts, A History
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Draco Malfoy really was a spoiled brat.
That had been Jack's immediate impression, and the boy had done nothing to change that opinion. He boasted constantly about his father, his house, his bloodlines, and every minor achievement any of these three had to their name. Draco himself seemed not to have done much worth boasting about, and took more pleasure in the failures of others than in any of his own victories.
Still, he had a talent and flair for story-telling. If you wanted to hear any tale about Slytherin house, especially if it involved the suffering of any of the other three houses, Draco was the one to go to. Often, you'd be forced to listen, even when you didn't want to know.
"Hey, Draco." Jack said brightly, finding the third year sitting with a few of his friends, near the fire in the common room.
"What do you want, kid?" the girl sitting next to Draco demanded snappishly.
"Nevermind Pansy here." Draco said, waving dismissively at the girl, "Too many colour potions in her hair." The black-haired witch glowered at Draco for this, but he didn't seem bothered in the slightest, "Do join us, Harkness." he said, indicating the only unoccupied seat by the fire, indicating that Jack should sit.
Jack did so, getting the distinct feeling that Draco was trying his best to play the part of someone with far more power than he actually had. Like he thought he was the rightful leader of his house. It was a good illusion, but that's all it was.
And Draco looked like he was waiting for Jack to explain why he was there. Jack didn't see any reason to dance around the subject, "I just really annoyed Ginny Weasley, and I'm not sure why."
"Why'd you care why?" one of Draco's two minions asked. Jack knew their names where Crabbe and Goyle, but in spite of them looking very different from each other, he had never bothered to learn which was which.
"Can't learn from an accident without knowing what I did." Jack shrugged, implying with his tone that he wanted to repeat the incident, even though that wasn't the case at all.
Draco grinned, "What did you actually do to her?"
"She might have overheard me gloating to Romilda Vane about my skills as a thief." Jack said, shrugging, "I got my hands on Rommy's diary, and-" Jack had been about to continue when Draco doubled over laughing, leaning on the arm of his chair and literally gasping for air past the maniacal laughter.
Obviously it was a big deal.
Pansy was grinning evilly, now... and Crabbe and Goyle chuckled ghoulishly, in spite of obviously not knowing why they were laughing.
"Hey, first years!" Draco called out, "Anyone want to hear a scary story?" It didn't take long for the entire Slytherin first year to have gathered on the floor in front of the fire, eager to hear the tale. "How many of you have heard of the Chamber of Secrets?"
x x x
It started at Hallowe'en, just after the feast. Doesn't it always? I'd like to say it was a dark and stormy night, but it really wasn't. Like this year, it was clear and starry, with a full moon and everything.
It's odd, and I still don't know how it happened, but you do know that the corridors and stairways in Hogwarts tend to move of their own accord. No matter what way we tried to take to get to our common room, the castle seemed determined to lead us up to the second floor. We kept turning back, but the third time we found ourselves there, we tried to cut across and go down the far staircase.
We found ourselves in a packed corridor and the crowd had stopped moving. The entire school must have been crammed into that one tiny little corridor.
Pushing to the front of the crowd, that's when I saw it. Written on the wall in what looked suspiciously like blood. "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware." Below it was Mrs Norris, hung up by her tail and petrified- literally turned to stone- and in front of it all, looking guilty as sin, Harry Potter and his two lackeys, Weasley and Granger.
Now the old stories of the Chamber of Secrets say that Salazar Slytherin himself built this hidden chamber beneath the castle, which only he and his true heir could access. And within, a monster only Slytherin's heir could control.
Legend has it, he and Godric Gryffindor had a falling out over who should or shouldn't be allowed to study at Hogwarts. Salazar wanted to keep it in the old families while Godric wanted to let the children of pitchfork-wielding mobs in to spy on us. When Godric won, Salazar was exiled, and he swore that one day his true heir would return to exterminate all those unworthy of learning magic.
What? Harkness, please shut up, you're destroying the dramatic tension here!
As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, everyone suspected those found at the scene of the crime. Potter, especially. This got even worse when it was proved he could speak to snakes. One of Salazar 'Serpent-tongue' Slytherin's trademark talents. Not like Mr Goody-Two-Shoes could really have done it, he's far too noble, it makes me want to puke.
Then two people who happened to have rubbed Potter the wrong way wind up petrified like Mrs Norris. Colin Creepy Creevey, highly offensive head of the Harry Potter fan club- I'm a shameless attention-seeker, but if that little creep tried to worship the ground I walk on the way he did with Potter, I might kill him myself. And Justin Finch-Fletchley, admitted Muggle-born who insulted Potter the night everyone found out he could talk to snakes.
The Heir was trying to frame him for it, adding fuel to the fire for the Muggle-loving fools to persecute their boy-hero.
But eventually his girlfriend, Granger, got attacked too. Hateful little know-it-all. Petrification naturally includes the blessing of silence, and between her and Creevey, couldn't have happened to more deserving people.
Even the supposedly omnipotent Dumbledore couldn't find the source of these attacks, or attempt to stop them. No, Crabbe, I was being sarcastic, I don't think he's omnipotent. No, Goyle, that's 'impotent' you're talking about. I hate you both.
They were going to shut down the school because they couldn't find the culprit, and it wasn't safe in the castle anymore. And as soon as that decision was announced, lo and behold another victim! This time, the writing on the wall read, "Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."
This latest victim... was Ginny Weasley.
Now we all know Potter had to go play hero... saved the damsel in distress, defeated the big bad snake, and stopped them from closing the school. Blah blah blah. Nobody cares. The interesting part is that the Heir of Slytherin wasn't anywhere near the school, this whole time.
He was using Little Miss Weasley to do his dirty work. Controlling her through an illusion of friendly words, making her kill the gamekeeper's roosters, because their cry could kill the monster she was setting on the other students. Making her write her own ransom note on the wall. Making the daughter of the most outspoken pro-Muggle member of the Ministry of Magic try to kill off Muggle-born children! The irony is truly amazing.
And how, you may ask?
He enchanted a diary with his memories of the first time he had tried to open the Chamber of Secrets, fifty years before. This diary found its way into Ginny Weasley's hands, and she spent months pouring her heart out into its pages, every word of truth or emotion she wrote giving it a greater hold over her, until she was entirely under its thrall.
Believe me, I've tried to figure out how that sort of magic works, but no one knows. It's like nothing anyone here could ever learn, beyond even the Imperius curse, and-
The Imperius curse, Rosier, is one of the three unforgivable curses. Point wand, say Imperio, really really mean it, and it's total mind control. No, of course there's more to it than that, and no! I'm not telling you how to do it properly! You'd get a life sentence in Azkaban for even trying to use it, anyway.
The other two are called Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra. Cruciatus is a torture curse, worst pain imaginable... and Avada Kedavra is a curse designed specifically to kill. Sure, other spells can kill, but they're either not designed to, or they're meant to cause a specific form of death, usually reversible if you're fast enough with the counter-curse before they take full effect, or at least blockable with shielding charms.
Avada Kedavra is unblockable, instant death. No way of surviving, when the caster knows what they're doing. Only one exception to prove the rule, only one person has ever survived the killing curse, and guess who that is.
That's right... Harry Bloody Potter.
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The invisibility section of the library was, as usual, unoccupied. That is, until Jack and Ianto found their way there. Ianto had homework for his history class, but Jack hadn't brought any work to do. Instead, he sat next to Ianto, pulling his chair up a bit too close for comfort, and leaning over to see what Ianto was doing.
As the textbooks came out, he snatched 'Hogwarts: A History' out of Ianto's grasp, and grinned as he leaned back and opened it. Ianto stared for half a second, then shrugged and returned to his other books. He didn't really need that one for this assignment, anyway.
As Jack leaned back to read the book, his leg idly brushed against Ianto's, causing him to jump and stare at Jack. But when Jack feigned innocence, Ianto returned to his work, making a conscious effort to try to ignore the personification of distraction sitting next to him.
Jack flipped through the book for a second, then announced sulkily, "No index? No contents list? What century was this book even written in?"
Ianto looked at him quizzically, surprised that Jack seemed to actually want to read it, rather than just being purposefully obtuse about it. "Eighteen sixty-three. Says so on the back."
Jack turned the book over to look at it, and frowned, "So nothing interesting's happened at Hogwarts since then, to warrant the book being updated and re-published?"
"Apparently not." Ianto shrugged, and returned to his homework.
"Sounds unlikely." Jack muttered, before returning his full attention to the book. Ianto gave him an odd look for a moment, as he flicked slowly through the pages... clearly searching for something the hard way, as the text in question did lack any other way of dealing with it.
"What're you looking for?" Ianto asked, setting his pen down on the desk, and turning to face Jack, pretending not to noticed, as Jack's leg purposefully brushed his once more as he turned.
"Salazar Slytherin." Jack said, smirking faintly at Ianto, "I've heard some stories about him, and I wanted to know if there was any basis in fact."
Ianto took the book from Jack's unresisting hands, and flicked quickly to somewhere near the middle, reading aloud, "Salazar Slytherin. Eldest of the four founders of Hogwarts school, was best known for his works in the field of potions and thaumaturgy, and his unique talent for communication with certain species of serpents, also known as Parseltongue."
"What's thaumaturgy?" Jack asked, frowning slightly.
"Blood magic." Ianto said vaguely, without needing to bother looking it up. Jack frowned, a little unsure as to exactly how Ianto came to know this off the top of his head. "He was also less renown for his experiments in magical mutation. Salazar was the first wizard to learn the secrets behind beasts of unnatural birth, including the spawning of Lethifold and Dementors, the incubation of Augeries and Basilisks, and the regeneration of Phoenixes.
"During his time at Hogwarts, Salazar's hand-picked students were chosen for their ambitious nature, and desire to make themselves of value to the magical community as a whole. Salazar also favoured keen, intelligent individuals who were able to learn quickly and display practical problem-solving abilities."
"Does it mention something called the Chamber of Secrets?" Jack asked.
Ianto scanned down the page, and shook his head, "Not by name. It does say that Salazar was known to disappear from the school, sometimes for several weeks at a time. He was suspected of having a hidden getaway somewhere within the grounds."
"What about when he left the school?" Jack insisted, "I heard that he had an argument with Godric Gryffindor?"
"This was a thousand years ago." Ianto observed, flicking forward several pages, "Muggles really were xenophobic. They'd turn on their own children if they found out the kids could use magic. Salazar Slytherin didn't trust the Muggle-borns, because a few of them tried to tell their parents where Hogwarts was... to try to convince their parents to accept them again. It didn't work, on either count.
"There's a whole chapter here about the incident. The murderous mob got to the front gate, saw an illusion of a ruin, instead of the castle, and- and actually killed the two young witches who betrayed the school, before they turned around and went home. Salazar worried that it could happen again, and didn't want to risk the Muggles figuring it out and hurting the other children studying here.
"He tried to convince the others to restrict admittance to the school, but they didn't listen. It ended up in a big fight with Godric Gryffindor- a proper wizard's duel-"
"Wizard's duel?" Jack asked.
"Yeah. Ten paces, wands only. Usually no killing." Ianto shrugged, "That's the full extent of the rules for serious or amateur duelling, although formal tournament rules are complicated enough to rival Quidditch... or even American football."
"Owen might be right... you do know everything."
"Actually... I looked it up when I read this chapter." Ianto said, holding up the book they were researching, for emphasis, and smirking faintly.
"So what happened?" Jack asked, moving to take the book, but Ianto pulled it back so he could read directly from it.
"Salazar was disarmed and defeated after a gruelling battle that took a great toll upon both wizards. Infuriated at this loss, he departed from the castle, never to be seen again. Salazar swore a vow that Godric would long regret his refusal to listen to reason, and that Godric's pride should be held accountable for any and all danger that may come to Hogwarts students from this mistake."
Jack frowned, "Doesn't sound anything like the version I heard." he said, thinking about it, "But then... legends get manipulated with time and generations. No one in this school has read that book-"
"Except Hermione Granger." Ianto pointed out, Jack gave him a surprised look, and he simply shrugged, "She seemed quite stunned when she saw me reading it, last week."
"And no one else seems to want to believe anything but the worst of Slytherin house." Jack finished, as if he hadn't been interrupted.
"I wonder if this 'Chamber of Secrets' you mentioned might be some sort of hidden laboratory, or sanctuary for Salazar? Like this book suggests?" Ianto suggested, "Maybe he never even left the castle?"
"Well no one knows how to find it, except Harry Potter..." Jack pointed out, "Draco did imply that there was a monster down there... but Potter killed it."
Ianto smiled, "I'm sure Gwen could help us find out more."
x x x
Gwen stared at Jack for several seconds, clearly confused and stunned by the sudden influx of information, and the request to go with it, "Uh uh. Can't do that." she said, shaking her head.
"Why not?" Jack asked, somewhere between a sense of indignity that she would refuse, and an outright whining tone.
"Because the other Gryffindors think I'm in league with an evil Slytherin." she protested, pointing at Jack to emphasises who she was referring to, "Yes, it's childish and ridiculous, but it's way these kids see it. If I start asking around about this Chamber of Secrets, they're really not going to trust me about it."
"Do we really need to know about this?" Owen asked, "I mean, it's ancient history."
"Ancient history that nearly killed a bunch of students last year." Jack pointed out, "I think it's worth investigating... and since you're quite blatantly NOT my friend, Owen..."
"Oh no!" Owen said defensively.
"Just try to make friends with Harry Potter." Gwen said, putting a hand on Owen's arm in that oddly placating way she had that seemed to make most people want to calm down in spite of their worst intentions.
"It's really simple." Ianto said brightly, "Say hello to Ron Weasley. Complain loudly about 'that Slytherin in my potions class'. Instant way into that little clique."
Owen gave Ianto a sceptical scowl, but then took in the perfectly serious look Jack was giving him, "Alright, fine! I'll try. Okay? Sheesh, why do we care about some dead guy's evil underground lair, anyway?"
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Charms was one of Jack's least favourites classes... second only to Herbology. If it weren't for Ianto sharing this class with him, he might actively hate it. He was having trouble getting the hang of the spells, because they required a degree of belief in one's own magical abilities, and so far Jack had spent a hundred and seventy odd years knowing that there was no such thing as magic.
Sure, technology could impersonate it well enough, to the uneducated eye, but that didn't make it any easier to for him to fully trust himself with this sort of power. Conversely, it turned out that he was pretty good at picking up the few jinxes and curses he had tried to learn. Seeing the wand as a weapon and the incantation as a trigger made it a lot easier for him to believe in what he was doing.
Over the last few days, they were supposed to be working on basic animation charms, to make inanimate objects act out pre-determined sequences of movement, and had been trying to make an origami bird flap its wings. Professor Flitwick had waxed lyrical about the art of combining such a charm with basic levitation, to make it better resemble a real bird as it flew.
While everyone else had already got the hang of it in their previous lesson, Jack had been lucky to make the paper bird twitch at all... in spite of his cheerful suggestions to Ianto of exactly what could be done with such a spell and a few action figures.
Now, Jack lurked outside the classroom, with Malcolm and Zoe, while the Hufflepuffs arrived.
"Hey, watch where you're going, Mudblood!" Avery snapped, as one of the Hufflepuff boys was jostled into him in the crowd.
"I- I'm sorry, I-" the Hufflepuff boy stammered nervously. As a point of personal pride- and in the interest of making contact with potential allies when they returned to their own time- Jack had made a deliberate effort to remember the names of everyone he could, here, and as he had witnessed this boy's Sorting, he could identify him as being named Jamie Burns.
"What did you just call him?" a Hufflepuff girl- Lindsay Davies- asked, confused.
Ianto had been standing off to one side, not fitting in well with his fellow Hufflepuffs, and therefore keeping his distance... but now he stepped forward, towards the dispute, "Muggle is a mildly derogatory word. Squib is fairly insulting. Calling someone whose parents are Muggles by the word Mr Avery here so charmingly used... would be in a par with calling Miss Alderton something that begins with N."
Zoe's eyes flashed with anger at the mere suggestion... but she did have the same coloration as Martha, and if it was a valid comparison it was quite a vicious way to put it. Then again, Ianto had always had a way of using words as weapons.
Jamie fumed and looked like he wanted to hit Avery... if he wasn't significantly shorter than the Slytherin.
"You'd better apologise for that." Jack said coldly.
As he approached the argument, he saw the way the Hufflepuffs pulled together like they thought he would take Avery's side... but when he carefully stepped past Avery, and turned on his fellow Slytherin, it was made clear what he really meant.
"What?" Avery demanded indignantly, "You're taking these... Hufflepuffs' side against one of your own?"
"I'm sorry, what loyalty do I owe you precisely, Avery?" Jack asked coldly, folding his arms, "You insulted my friends, the first time you spoke to me. You hexed my homework a grand total of seven times; I know the counter-curse to a biting jinx, I don't even know why you keep trying. And let's not forget the feeble attempt to poison my coffee; I've spent the last two years around Ianto, I know when someone's spiked my drink."
Ianto coughed pointedly, "Not helping, Jack." he muttered. True enough, his fellow Hufflepuffs were even more wary of him than before, now.
"If you have a personal problem with someone, there's no reason to throw generic racial slurs at them. It just makes you look ignorant. Now, if I were you, Avery... I'd apologise." Jack warned, "Right now."
"Or what?" Avery snapped, angrily.
"Do you really want to know?" Jack asked, smiling in a threatening way.
Avery continued to glare defiantly, "Do your worst."
Jack laughed, "Oh no, you're not worth the trouble I'd get in for that. I'd rather just humiliate you." he said... before casting the only charm he had really got the hang of since he'd got to Hogwarts, "Wingardium Leviosa."
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Neville Longbottom was early for charms class. This came from an innate talent for not getting covered in dirt during Herbology.
It also had the unfortunate side-effect of him being alone in the charms corridor, with nothing but the eerie echo of his footsteps, and the not-particularly-reassuring weight of his schoolbag, which he had once managed to use to block a curse from a sixth year Slytherin. It was times like this he felt sure something bad was about to happen... like a bunch of Slytherins ambushing him, like that time in his first year when Malfoy had got him with the leg-locker curse, or Peeves swooping out of nowhere. Swooping was bad.
So when he heard the muffled whimpering sound, he jumped about a foot in the air, looking back and forth along the corridor like a startled gazelle. It took him a few seconds to realise there was no threat, and calm down a bit. He looked around more carefully, now... seeing nothing lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce.
Then he looked lower, and saw a pair of shoes sitting neatly against the wall, next to a suit of armour.
The whimpering sound repeated itself, and Neville cautiously approached the suit, tentatively lifting the visor and peering inside. Nothing there. He glanced down the corridor and saw no similar suits or tapestries with which to hide. The only alternative appeared to be the charms classroom itself.
Very slowly, he approached the door, and upon checking the handle found that it did open. He warily poked his head inside, only to jump once more when the whimpering sound came very much from behind him. Whirling around, he once more came face to face with absolutely nothing.
"Hello?" he asked cautiously. The whimper could be heard again... echoing down the corridor a bit, but not coming from either direction in particular. "Who's there?"
Another whimper.
Neville drew upon all his courage, and raised his voice, "I'm warning you, show yourself or I'll jinx you!"
Yet another whimper. It began to sound like it was coming from overhead... Neville slowly looked upwards.
On the ceiling, secured there by straps of some odd grey material that Neville had never seen before covering his entire body, was a boy. His feet and head were all that was visible around the strange substance holding him there. His feet were bare, and his socks were secured in his mouth by another strap of the apparently sticky stuff.
Neville realised it was a Slytherin... only because his school tie had been wrapped around his head as a makeshift blindfold.
Neville wasn't sure how long he stared at the trapped Slytherin, before footsteps startled him, and he looked to see some of his classmates headed this way. Harry and Ron and Hermione.
"Hey, guys...!" Neville called, pointing upwards.
All three looked at once. Ron laughed, while the other two stared.
"Why is there a Slytherin first-year duct-taped to the ceiling?" Hermione asked in wonderment.
"What's duck tape?"
"Duct-tape." Hermione corrected, with emphasis on the fact it had nothing to do with water-birds.
"It's a Muggle thing, Ron." Harry answered vaguely, still staring as the distressed Slytherin began whimpering more determinedly, clearly hearing them even if he couldn't see them... and quite probably begging to be released from his prison. "Uh... Hermione, can you get him down from there?"
"Hmm... yeah, I think an unsticking spell should work." Hermione waved her wand, casting a spell Neville didn't recognise, closely followed by a more familiar, "Levicorpus." so that when the boy fell she caught him in thin air and levitated him slowly to the ground, where she let him land neatly on his feet.
The odd straps of stuff Hermione had called duct-tape fell to the ground, harmlessly enough, and the Slytherin quickly pulled his tie off his head and his socks out of his mouth, while Neville picked up a piece of the not-so-sticky-anymore stuff and looked at it more closely.
But before any of them could question the strange occurrence of finding a Slytherin stuck to the ceiling by some Muggle adhesive, the boy had grabbed his shoes and fled, flushing with embarrassment.
Poor kid... that looked far worse than any of the jinxes Malfoy had ever used on any of his victims. Neville just hoped none of the Slytherins got any ideas, after this incident.
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