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Chapter Eleven: The Second Bargain
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For Harry it seemed that all interesting things were postponed until Tuesday. He'd spent the rest of his Sunday chatting with Ginny and Opa in the kitchens as they ate whipped cream and strawberries and went out on the Quidditch pitch batting a Quaffle between them.
At the end, Harry had come to dread Opa on a broom. She promised not to fade out of notice, but she was still someone that slipped the mind completely in the game. She told Harry and Ginny that she was to be joining the Slytherin team this year, which made them both wince, although Harry didn't have to worry about her, as Draco was still the Seeker.
Ginny pestered her repeatedly in an attempt to discover her position, but Opa simply smiled and remained silent. Eventually the two Gryffindors decided that she was probably a Chaser, as she would be of less use as a Beater.
As the evening came along, he dragged out his invisibility cloak and made his way up to visit Helga. He sat down with his usual coffee and began to talk, but she became quite worried when his drink froze over. Harry had to explain the deep chills to her, as she only had a faint idea that they were occurring.
"A powerful sapping of magic…hmm. Something like that happened in my day too, although nothing this drastic. It was around the time our portraits were taken down for safety. But we simply assumed that it was one of the enemies attacking, as there was a lot of feuding in turmoil in those times," she said thoughtfully.
"It could be though, couldn't it?" Harry insisted. "The books I've read say that it's possible for objects to absorb and store magic." Helga frowned down at him.
"Rowena would know better than I, but the problem with those objects is that the magical power becomes unusable. Although I suppose that if the primary and secondary wards fall then it would have served its purpose. But to have such an effect…" she trailed off, and Harry watched her contemplative face with interest.
"It would have to be inside the castle to have so much power," she pronounced. "Albus would be in a truly tenuous position to search for it too. There are no detection spells that branch over the whole castle, and a search would be too difficult. The object may well have protections on it."
Harry sighed. He'd had an inkling that it would be like this. He cast a warming charm on his coffee cup and drained the last of it before standing.
"Helga, can I look through your bookshelves?" he asked her, and moved over to them with her nod of assent.
They were certainly grand. She didn't have a massive collection of books, but there were definitely enough to entertain him for a very long time. He browsed over a large section on Herbology, then a section on Potions of a similar size. The books left were rather widespread over different topics.
"I'll have to apologise. I was rather single-minded when I collected my books. It's quite patchy in areas. You'd have better luck with Rowena's collection, as she became rather obsessive over covering all categories." There was a pause. "Talking of her, is there any progress?" Harry nodded absently as he flicked through a book on seeds and their uses.
"The sighting in the dungeon has been confirmed by a very…amusing picture on the way to the Great Hall," Harry said, trying to think of a good adjective for the woman.
"Oh, who?" Helga inquired.
"Agatha I think. Said she was Snape's great aunt, so I suppose that she's a Snape," Harry mused, still looking through the book in his hands. He looked up when he heard her tutting though.
"That woman is a liability. You won't learn anything good from her." Harry was surprised at Helga's tone, and saw that her mouth was pulled into a rigid line.
"That depends whether her information on Snape is good or not." Harry turned back to his book, choosing not to inquire. "If not, I can always tell him that she told me things. I'll bluff my way through." Harry snickered at the thought of Snape's face if he said that. "It's always good to have an advantage over your enemies."
A hiss came from Helga's direction, and Harry's head snapped up. She was looking at him with wide eyes and a grim face.
"What was it?" he asked, concerned.
"What you said, 'to have an advantage over your enemies'. That was what Salazar said before he left. When he told us about the Chamber. I only know because they were in the room where our portraits were being hidden." Harry frowned.
"I didn't mean to…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say. Helga shuddered a little before pulling herself up to her full height.
"I know you didn't mean the same thing, or anything similar. In fact, from what you've told me in our conversations, Severus Snape deserves most of what he gets, if not all. It just reminded me, that's all," she finished with a half-smile.
Harry only nodded and went back to his reading. The more he heard of Salazar Slytherin, the more interesting the man became. He seemed to Harry to be the most mysterious Found out of them all.
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Tuesday rolled round slowly. Harry woke as usual, around five in the morning, and after a freezing shower that even his warming charms refused to heat, he hurried down to the Great Hall. The light was dim today, and the weather ponderous and cloudy. To Harry, it looked as if rain was looming over the horizon. That didn't bode well for the Quidditch practice that was scheduled for the evening.
Ron had made the Quidditch team as Keeper the previous year, and this year the team had voted him in as captain due to his brilliant strategy working. Harry had been suggested as captain, but he had declined as politely as he could; he simply wasn't built to lead people. He'd taken the most solitary position in the entire game, and certainly hadn't been paying too much attention to things like Chaser strategies over the years.
This time there was only one figure in the hall when he arrived, and that was the silvery figure of Draco Malfoy, seated at the Slytherin table looking utterly composed and drinking his tea.
Harry paused at the threshold of the room before walking over at a leisurely pace. Initially he had been surprised to see the other boy so early, but of course, he had to arrive before the time limit ended and tell him the information, or he'd be subjected to a spell of Harry's choice.
"Malfoy," Harry greeted him, slipping onto the seat beside him and calling a house elf up for breakfast.
"Potter. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show after all." This new and civil Malfoy still rather surprised Harry. It made him feel slightly odd, thinking that he might actually have liked the boy whose hand he'd refused all those years ago. But then again, him having a father who served Harry's arch nemesis might have put a bit of wedge between their possible friendship. He could imagine that visiting over the holidays wouldn't have been the most relaxing experience, knowing that the blonde's father could likely be considering his death when they shared a dinner table.
"Gryffindor honour and all that," Harry said with a grin. Draco just looked disdainful.
"So really, you couldn't help yourself." Harry snickered a little at that, and began buttering his toast.
"How about we begin?" Harry asked pointedly.
"My father's cane has been in the family for generations, and is typically held by the Head of the House Malfoy." Harry nodded for him to continue. "You may not know, but I suppose I'll have to tell you anyway. Wizarding canes were used in place of a wand for a time, and thus, have a core. The difference with this cane is that it is topped with a semi-animate snake's head. It is said to have a brother, but that is more of a family myth."
Harry kept his expression carefully interested, while inside his head he smiled a little at Draco's skill in deception. He didn't lie, but he twisted his words to make it sound as if the brother cane was lost to the mists of time rather than sitting in the shadows at the back of the Borgin and Burkes shop.
"What's the core?" Harry asked with mild interest. Draco looked as if he had been hoping that he wouldn't answer that question.
"Snake skin and tooth," he said, but there was something in the way he said it that made Harry doubtful.
"Are we finished?" Draco drawled. Harry nodded, still thinking over what Malfoy had said. He had a suspicion about the core, but he was still so uncertain…
"Potter, if I might ask, why are you so interested in the cane?" Harry almost answered unconsciously, but despite that Draco had slipped the question in so very casually, Harry could see an opportunity.
"If you make it worth my while. I have one more question about its core, and you need to answer truthfully," Harry said. He could see the blonde weighing up his chances. If Harry guessed right, then Draco wouldn't consider it too big a risk.
"Deal." He extended his hand, but Harry had one more clause.
"If you can't answer it, then I want an answer from your father," Harry said, adding something of a dare to his voice. Once more he could see the other boy hesitating. Would it really be worth the risk?
"And if he can't answer?" Ah, Harry thought, stalling tactics.
"Then I'll drop it. But he is bound by the same truthfulness and spells that we are." Draco bit his lip, and Harry found himself surprised that such a nervous habit would be allowed to persist in the Malfoy family.
"Fine. But you have to give all the reasons for your interest that you can think of, and we state the spells that will come into effect if either of us cheat the deal now." Now it was Harry's turn to hesitate. He mentally ran through all the reasons that he wanted to know.
Well, he had become really quite taken with the twin cane in Borgin and Burkes. Any information about Malfoy's second weapon was useful. Plain curiosity played a factor too.
"Right, and the time limit is here and now, but a week if you don't know. Your father should have time to get here by then. My spell is Perfigo." Harry hissed the last word picturing a snake as best he could. It was one of the few spells he had discovered in the book on parseltongue magic that he could actually perform. It mimicked the feeling of a burning knife plunging into the assaulted body part. Draco quailed a little, but named a spell that Harry didn't recognise anyway.
"Done." Draco clasped his hand with Harry's, and Harry withdrew his wand, tapping their hands and muttering Creo Pactio. Their joined palms glowed for a brief moment before fading.
"You answer first, since you pulled that nasty trick on me," Draco ordered. Harry raised a brow.
"I solidified the bargain into more than a schoolboy pact Malfoy, but since I'm the one whose supposed to have the Gryffindor honour, I will. I want to know about your father's cane because, firstly I'm simply curious, and secondly It's worth knowing your enemy well, especially if they have a second weapon to fight with. It would do me no good if I was in a duel with your father and after disarming him of his first wand, found myself under the Cruciatus curse from a weapon I'd barely considered." Draco inclined his head slightly in agreement, seemingly unconcerned about the idea that his father might be casting the Cruciatus on a classmate.
"And lastly, I encountered the brother cane over the holidays, and seriously considered purchasing it. However, the shop owner informed me that he didn't know what the core was, although it was painfully obvious he was lying. It was also obvious that your father would know, since he held its twin."
Draco looked at him with wide eyes. He obviously hadn't expected Harry to list the last reason, but Harry really hadn't wanted to be subjected to whatever Dark curse the blonde had chosen, and hadn't had enough time to think of a way to twist the truth.
"You can't ask what the core is of the brother cane. You said that your questions were purely directed towards this core." Harry nodded.
"Indeed. Now for my question Malfoy." Harry said with a small smirk playing about his lips. "Is the core of your father's cane of the same material of that of the brother cane? And I don't mean from the same 'snake'. I mean which part of the snake." Harry sneered at the word 'snake', and as he had hoped, Draco's eyes widened in a parody of realisation, and Harry's suspicions were confirmed.
He had guessed that the word 'snake' was a rather broad definition of what went into the cane. Harry had a sinking suspicion that he knew what kind of 'snake' the Malfoy family would put into the core of a cane. Or perhaps he was simply being fooled by all this talk of Basilisks…
"I don't know the answer to that," Draco said irritably, his face snapping back into its usual mask. He stood then, vacating his seat. "I will owl my father now, and he will be here by the weekend."
Harry watched him leave with an air of satisfaction. He had rather enjoyed the guessing games and bargaining with Malfoy, particularly as it was obvious to him that in the end, he had been the one to outsmart the blonde. He could only hope to achieve similar results with Lucius, but somehow he doubted he'd come off so well.
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They had started a new topic in Potions: Brews to Deceive. This covered the Draught of Living Death – "I hope you show a little more knowledge than last time, Mr Potter." – which had a history of being used to fool people into thinking that the drinker was dead. Harry was reminded quite strongly of the play 'Romeo and Juliet' at this, and he had an interesting time imagining the sinister Potions Professor playing Juliet, while Malfoy serenaded him.
The topic also covered invisibility potions, potions that made the user silent as a grave (Harry suspected that Snape bathed in them regularly to stop errant students from hearing him as he prowled the corridors), potions that cancelled out the user's scent completely, and potions that dispelled notice.
Harry was interested to learn that one of the ingredients in the last one was spectre blood. Snape had informed them that because the ingredient was so rare in its untarnished form, they would not be brewing the potion. He did, however, mention that students who wished to take extra credit assignments could apply for the potion. Harry doubted that he'd be allowed to do it even if he did apply.
The lesson was rather uneventful; since Neville had left there had been a mysterious absence of explosions. The lesson did serve a useful purpose however.
Harry packed his bags as quickly as he could, stepping out of the classroom with all intentions to go to the library or the common room. He was stopped, however, by a 'psst' sound from the shadows. Curious, he waited until most of the students had filed past him and moved towards it.
"The woman with the hookah told me to remind you of what she said," a skeletal centaur painted in sepia colours told him. Harry leaned in close and looked around to make sure nobody took any notice of him.
"I'd completely forgotten, thanks. Which way is the painting?" he whispered.
"Down the hall, two turns left, in the shadows beside the crooked stonework" the centaur rasped at him. Harry thanked it again, and followed its directions.
Before long, he was standing in a narrow, gloomy corridor. Dim light was thrown from a tiny barred window near the ceiling. The corridor looked rather like a dead end to him, but sure enough when he looked closer there appeared a pattern of stones that looked as if they had been put together in some haste.
His gaze slowly pierced the shadows beside it, and a painting emerged. It was of a very pale and sickly young woman in a delicate green dress. Her eyes appeared glassy and she stared straight ahead. However, a soft hiss and the slick sound of scales against the satin of her dress drew Harry's attention to the creature he was really looking for.
"I heard that you were a snake-speaker, little one. There were whispers around the castle of it…" A silky black snake disengaged from the woman's ankle and moved towards him.
"That is correct. But I was sure that snakes could not understand the human language," Harry replied.
"Surely you do not think there is only one painting with a snake in it? No…we tend to go unnoticed. Even the Serpent King left us to ourselves." Harry shuddered a little, remembering the sound of the Basilisk's voice emanating through the walls.
"The Serpent King's master was foolish to pass you by. But I digress. Little snake, I need your help," Harry told it, and watched as the creature preened in satisfaction.
"What can I aid you with, master?" Harry smiled a little at the deferential term. It translated rather roughly as 'master', but in parseltongue he knew it was more a gesture of respect than servitude.
"Years ago, maybe twenty, the headmaster of the school came down to the dungeons carrying a portrait of one of the Founders," he told it.
"The dark haired one. She was shouting, but no noise came out. It was as if her voice had gone." Harry nodded.
"Yes. Did you see where he took her? Did he say anything?" Harry asked quickly.
"He was moving quickly, heading-"
"Mr Potter." Snape's soft voice cut through the snake's speech, causing Harry to twist and face the man, severely startled. It seemed that the Potions Master was making a habit of catching him. "How interesting to see you in the Dungeons, conversing with another portrait. In parseltongue no less."
Harry hissed an insult towards him in the language, causing the snake to respond with what could only be called a chuckle.
"I have a free period now sir," he stated. Snape just raised a brow.
"And you choose to spend it skulking in the dungeons. As I said, very interesting." Harry was on the verge of grinding out another insult, but the snake interrupted him.
"Tell the dark one to leave. He is not helpful." Harry smiled inwardly. He could imagine Snape's face if he heard that in a language he could understand. The older man was instead looking at the portrait with some interest, while the snake cast a steady and unblinking gaze on him. Harry raised a brow at the snake.
"I doubt he'd take very kindly to me telling him that."
"What, might I ask, are you telling it Potter?" Snape had returned his attention to Harry, who blinked a little. He may not rise to the man's insults anymore, but it didn't mean he wasn't wary of him. He debated lying for a moment, but then decided that he may as well chance the truth.
"The snake told me to tell you to leave, and that you weren't being helpful." Harry swallowed a little at the narrowed black eyes boring into him. "And I told it that you probably wouldn't take very kindly to being told that."
"Your perceptive skills are astounding, Mr Potter. Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek." He took a step back and gestured down the hall. "I will escort you away from the dungeons." Harry swallowed again.
"If you'd wait just a moment-"
"Out!" Snape snapped, and Harry turned a last glance to the snake.
"You'll find her behind hidden walls…follow the corridor to the end." The snake hissed at him before he was swept out of the gloom.
When Snape finally left him (after docking another five points for impudence), Harry was glad to be out in the light instead of in the chilly darkness of the dungeons.
After checking his schedule and discovering that he had no lessons until lunch, Harry began walking up to the top of the school to have a brief talk with Helga. He was sure that since his second run-in with the man, Snape would be watching him ever more closely. It really was no wonder that the irritable Potions Professor was in Slytherin, given his mistrust for everyone and everything. He was probably building a conspiracy around Harry's actions at this very moment.
The elegant upper sector of the school was like a breath of fresh air. It was so remote and distant from everything else in the school, and even though it was a dim and cloudy day, at the height he was the air felt clear.
Helga was sleeping lightly in her portrait when he arrived, and he was loath to wake her, but it was necessary.
"Helga. Helga!" he shouted.
"Hmm? What? Oh, it's you Harry." She looked a little relieved, her hair a bit mussed from leaning against the chair she'd conjured.
"I can't stay for long, but I came to ask you a quick question." He took a breath. "I'm close to finding Rowena I think, but I was wondering how I'm going to hide her? We were lucky that you were in a pretty remote area, but in the Dungeons Snape wanders around like some overgrown bat. I think he makes clones of himself or something," Harry grumbled, still irritated that the Potions Master had interrupted him just when he was getting to the interesting bit in the conversation.
"That is a tricky thing. You said you had that map? What did you call it? Mulberry Map?"
"The Marauder's Map," Harry corrected.
"Well, use that. I don't think an invisibility cloak will work on a painting as large as hers is, but it's worth a try. She'd probably know best though. She was rather skilful with invisibility and cloaking spells if I remember correctly." Helga's eyes grew a little distant as she remembered. Suddenly her eyes sharpened and she looked at Harry carefully. "Don't you go talking to that awful Agatha Snape before you've found her either."
Harry had to laugh at that. He bade her goodbye after she had extracted a promise that he wouldn't. Tonight was going to be a long and tiring trek, he could already feel. He quickly made his way towards the senior sector library that was as yet unexplored to look up cloaking spells.
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The library was every bit as elegant as its surroundings. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Helga had had a hand in the decoration, because the shelves and tables were of the same rosewood that was in her chambers. He was amused to note that as each section changed to a different topic, the corresponding decorative carvings did too.
Over the Herbology section were delicate wooden flowers and vines, around the Transfiguration section there were carvings of animals changing into goblets and teacups, and over the astronomy section there were tiny stars and suns decorating the shelves.
There were only a few other students working in this subsection of the library, and Harry walked unhindered through the shelves. The layout was similar to the main Library, with its maze-like twists and turns, each housing a hidden table or window seat. In the end, Harry emerged back into the more open section and went to examine the small notice beside the door.
'To all senior students,
As with the Main Library, you are required to register all the books that you take out. However many of these are more valuable tomes than those available to the whole school, and their continued good condition is paramount. Students found to have damaged or lost copies will suffer severe punishment. You are allowed the privilege of using this library subsection, and anyone found abusing it will be blocked entry.
Madame Pince'
Harry shook his head. Trust the stern librarian to put up a notice that bore a threat in it. He turned back to the room at large, and moved over to a likely looking shelf, trailing his fingertips along the worn wooden surface. Finally he settled on a heavy tome, found a remote corner, and sitting he began to read.
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Night had settled on the castle. The students practising Quidditch had retired hours ago, and most of the building's occupants lay in their beds, their deep breaths brushing over the blankets piled around them. It was getting colder these days. A few people however, were not asleep. Harry Potter was one of them, and Severus Snape was another. At the moment, these two were at a standstill.
Harry cursed wildly inside his head when he examined the Marauder's Map, only to find that a certain unpleasant Professor was pacing the gloomy corridor he had planned to explore. Ten minutes later, when he had navigated through the dungeons, Harry found to his dismay that the man was still pacing, and was most probably simply waiting for him to show. He had hoped that he'd have moved on by the time he finally got down there.
Harry had had the foresight to cast a silencing charm on himself, which would completely muffle his footfalls. Otherwise, Snape would probably already have jumped on him and dragged him – invisible or not – to his office for a year's detention. As it was, Harry could only stand there in consternation. How was he meant to sneak past him now? He could always go back to the dorms, but disappointment rose in his chest when he thought about it. It felt too much like giving up, even though he knew that that was untrue. What he really needed was a distraction.
One of the few useful things Harry had learnt from his foray into the senior sector library at the top of the school earlier that day, was a distraction spell called an Echo charm. It reflected noise so that what appeared to be its source was actually the opposite direction. Harry was ever thankful for the fact that he'd glanced over this, and was inwardly praising himself.
"Echo Recino," he whispered, and then tapped breathed harshly, lowering his wand to the floor so that the tap of his foot was amplified. In the distance at the far end of the corridor the sounds floated back. It was time to add fuel to the fire.
"Damn it Ron, don't step on my foot," he whispered.
That certainly got Snape's attention. His head snapped up and his dark eyes flashed with the momentary reflection of light before he paced quickly towards the noise.
Harry, estimating that he probably had about five minutes before Snape realised that he had been duped and returned to find him, trotted down the corridor, recalling the snake's words.
"Behind hidden walls…" he whispered. "Follow the corridor to the end…"
He passed the painting of the sleeping woman and the out of line bricks, reaching the cold stone at the end of the hall. He reached a hand out to trace over the bricks, noting that they were slightly mossy. What could the snake have meant? What did it see that Harry did not?
Snape's footfalls had receded into the distance, but Harry was still nervous and increasingly frustrated as he scoured the wall. There had to be some clue as to where the portrait was hidden.
"Behind hidden walls…what does it mean?" Harry muttered. He began looking for distinguishing stone, running his hands over the repeatedly or tapping them. Then he had a sudden burst of inspiration.
He was almost certain that this corridor was no where near the outside, yet it had a high window, that was certainly not tall, but was just the right size to slide a portrait through, if not for the bars. Taking a nervous glance behind him, and checking the Map, he saw that Snape had paused two corridors ahead, at the entrance to the Potions classroom.
Casting a simple levitation charm on himself, Harry floated up to the same level as the window, and taking a deep breath he pushed his arm through the illusion, praying that Dumbledore hadn't put any nasty hexes on it.
For a moment there was nothing, but then Harry's fingers encountered a wooden frame. Sliding them down, he could feel paint and canvas. With a deep breath, and a small prayer that he wouldn't be caught, he dragged the portrait forwards.
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Notes:
As with before, I used the Latin Dictionary and Grammar Aid, which can be found at (http // archives . nd . edu / latgramm . htm) if you remove the spaces.
Echo Recino Translates as 'echo' 'resound/to cause to resound'
Creo Pactio 'to make/to create' 'bargain'Perfigo 'to pierce through/to stab'
Next chapter should be up in a few days. It looks like I'm falling into an update schedule of mondays and thursdays, so you should be able to expect chapters those days. Hope you're enjoying it and all that, and thanks for the kind reviews,
Dream Red