Author's Note:
Oh my gosh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I really did start writing this three days ago, but then I got caught up in the wonderful, mystical world that is Harry Potter/Salazar Slytherin. It's awesome—he's sort of like Tom Riddle except he doesn't entertain ideas of killing Harry, and their relationship is actually functional and beautiful, and the stories often take place at the founding of Hogwarts. Unfortunately, my bubble has burst because I've already finished reading all the complete ones or the ones that look like they have a chance of being updated. You thought HP/TMR or HP/LV was a rare pairing? Think again. On the bright side of this, there is a strong possibility of me posting a HP/SalS oneshot. You can author alert me, but I'll also let you know all about it when/if it's up.
Thank you all once again for all your warm support. I smile at seeing each individual alert of a review, fav or follow. I'm sorry again that I haven't replied to all of them yet—give me twelve hours, and it shall be done. I know, I know, I suck. I have this week off though, and I plan to use it to stockpile chapters and work on that oneshot.
I want to thank a guest reviewer who pointed out several spelling errors in the first chapter—clearly my spell check was down. The chapter is fixed now. However, I do not appreciate the tone of the review. I must ask myself why guest reviewers feel they can be so sharp with their words. Perhaps they'd like to say it to my face, or attach a name or account to that review? … Yeah, didn't think so. This guest should be glad they decided to be sort of helpful, because I will fight fire with Fiendfyre. *smiles sweetly*
Right, so I've decided that offers for spoilers will only be for every hundredth review. I get too many favs and follows and I have no idea how to tell who my hundredth is. However, I know that reviews show up in the order they were posted. We'll be at the 100 review mark in a few chapters, so prepare yourselves. :D
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be on a fruitless search for university scholarships… *sigh*
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Harry woke to his wand alerting him that it was four-thirty AM. He yawned as he gathered his things, unused to being awake at this absurdly early hour. Downing an invigoration draft, he sneaked out of the first year Gryffindor boys' dorm room. Down, down, down he crept, along corridors, through secret passages, and over trick steps. He encountered no one—even Filch and his miserable cat, Mrs. Norris, were asleep at this hour.
At last, he came to the girls' bathroom on the second floor. He was unconcerned by the shrieking sobs coming from within; Moaning Myrtle could be an inconvenience, but Tom's memories seemed to indicate that she'd keep his secret if he charmed her enough. So without further ado, Harry cracked the door open and slipped inside.
Upon catching sight of him, the sobbing teen-aged ghost paused in pouring out her misery. "This is a girls' bathroom," she hiccupped. "I suppose you've come to make fun of me too?"
"Not at all," Harry assured her with a gentle smile. "In fact, I heard you were lonely. I thought I'd come see if I could help."
Unfortunately, his words had the opposite effect he was going for. "You can't help me!" she let out a loud, whaling cry. "I'm already dead."
Cringing, Harry tried again. "Sorry, Myrtle. I just thought you might like some company; you know, to take your mind off things for a while."
Fortunately, this seemed to work. "Really?" The pimply, glasses-wearing, Ravenclaw ghost floated tentatively through the open stall door. "No one ever wants to talk to moaning, mopey Myrtle," she added with a pout.
It took all Harry's focus to keep from grimacing. If she was as annoying dead as she had been alive, he knew exactly why this was the case. She wouldn't be happy unless she was complemented all the time. But he only smiled and said, "I don't know why. They're all missing out on getting to know a very special person, if you ask me."
Harry had to hide a sneer as Myrtle blushed and giggled. He'd charmed her, all right. Now all he had to do was keep it up. "Hey Myrtle," he said after a moment of looking contemplatively around the filthy bathroom, "can I borrow one of your sinks?"
"Ooh, of course," she giggled again. "But whatever for?"
Harry looked hesitant. "Well, you see…" he paused uncertainly. "I heard of the Chamber of Secrets." Myrtle let out a scandalized gasp at the implications of his statement. "I've done some research on it, and I think the entrance is in here. If I understand correctly, that's how you died?" he asked gently.
Myrtle let out a gasping sob. "So that's why you're here. You don't care about me at all."
"That's not true," Harry replied, scandalized. "I actually wanted to find it to help you. See, I don't think that how you died is fair at all. You deserved much more than that. So I wanted to go down and kill the monster for you."
Once again, a bright smile split the normally miserable teen's face. "You'd do that for me?" she asked wonderingly.
"Of course. So do you mind if I borrow this sink over here?" Harry gestured to an old, cracked sink in front of a mirror in similar condition. Though he couldn't see it from where he was standing, he knew exactly where he'd find the carving of the snake. After all, that was one of Tom's clearest memories from his teen-aged years.
"No no, go ahead. Oh, and if you die down there, you're welcome to share my toilet." Myrtle giggled and blushed again, ducking back behind her stall door.
With a triumphant grin, Harry stepped forward and leaned down over the tap. Sure enough, the snake lay etched in the silver faucet. 'Open,' he commanded in Parseltongue. The next thing he knew, the sink spun out of sight and Harry stood at the top of a large pipe. 'Stairs?' he asked uncertainly. Nothing happened. Lovely, he thought.
Taking a deep breath, Harry lowered himself into the hole. When he could go no further without letting go, he released the edge of the pipe and hissed for the sink to close behind him. The last thing he heard was Myrtle's call for good luck above him.
Harry shivered in disgust when he realized that the ride down the pipe was as slimy as it was endless. As soon as he shot out the other end, he had his wand out and was performing several high-powered cleaning charms on himself. Once he'd determined that he was as clean as he'd get, he cast a Lumos, flicked the ball of light from the tip of his wand up to the ceiling, and took in his surroundings.
The walls of the first part of the chamber were roughly-formed and made of large stones. It almost had the appearance of a naturally formed underground cave, Harry thought. Perhaps that was the intention. If for some strange reason someone had come upon this from another entrance, they'd probably be intrigued and want to explore farther—that is, until they saw all the bones littering the ground. Many of them were the remnants of small animals, but quite a few had once been the bodies of larger animals. Harry decided not to look too closely at these.
He made his way through the cave, gesturing with his wand for the ball of light to follow along. The first thing he encountered was a huge shedding of Basilisk hide. He'd been nervous to approach it at first, not knowing whether or not it was the real snake or just skin. Upon realizing that it was the latter, however, he stepped close to examine its texture and color. With a flick of his wand, his ball of light came to hover over his shoulder so he could get a closer look.
From what he could tell, the hide was relatively fresh; it still seemed strong with minimal signs of decay. If his analysis proved to be correct, he could sell it for a lot of money. With a couple of rune-based spells (seeing as Basilisk hide was otherwise spell-resistant), it could be used as high-quality armor. He'd have to bring a sample to the Goblins, Harry thought. They were fond of examining precious artifacts, earth-made or not–they'd know its quality for sure.
He abandoned the skin for now though; he could always come back for it later. That hadn't been his main purpose for visiting, after all. Another wand flick had his ball of light returning to following him from above, and Harry continued down the wide cave-like tunnel.
After going around a bend in the hewn stone, he came to a slightly more intricate sight. Two doors stood shut, a carved snake positioned in front of them for protection.
'Open,' Harry hissed. The snake's jeweled eyes blinked once, and the doors slid open with a grinding noise. Holding his breath, Harry entered the main part of the chamber.
It was truly magnificent, reminding him more of a temple devoted to a long-forgotten deity than a chamber where secrets should be held. Stone pillars with intricate carvings of snakes reached up to a ceiling far above. Here and there, puddles of water lay glistening in the dim green light. Perhaps those hadn't been intentional, but they certainly gave the room more of a divine feel, as if nature had only been allowed to touch but not destroy. A wide aisle lead from the doors Harry had just entered to the other end of the chamber where stood a statue, presumably of Salazar Slytherin. As Harry walked toward this statue, his reverent footsteps echoed over and over through the cavernous chamber. As he walked, he suddenly had the sense that despite the early hour, he was not alone here—no, all ancestors of Salazar Slytherin were watching him. But it didn't feel as if they were judging him harshly; on the contrary, they were congratulating him for finding this place without being of Slytherin blood. And for a moment, Harry felt guilty. After all, Tom had done all the leg work.
For one long moment, he lost himself in contemplations. What if he didn't have Tom's memories? He knew so many things because of them, but what if he hadn't had the enigmatic boy turned Dark Lord to guide him? How much could he have learned for himself?
Then, that long moment was over. He did have Tom's memories. And he was about to prove that he deserved them. He was going to stop relying on only the memories. He would use them as a guide in thanks for the gift, but he'd learn things for himself. Salazar Slytherin and many of his ancestors, ending with Tom, had all contributed to a library in the Chamber. Harry was going to access it, and he'd re-learn and practice every spell and ritual he could find. He'd soak up all the knowledge the Chamber had to offer, then he'd add his own. After all, history had to be recorded somewhere so it wouldn't be lost.
Walking to the left side of the chamber, harry whispered, 'o ancestors of the greatest of the Hogwarts Four, reveal to me your secrets.'
At these words, a twenty foot wide section of the stone wall melted away to reveal a library of the simplest sort. The room was twenty feet by forty feet. Its walls were lined with stuffed bookshelves. Some newer ones had been set up in rows in the middle of the room as well. Nearest the door sat one large stone desk with a magically preserved chair on one side. As soon as Harry stepped through the entrance, the wall reappeared behind him. This, he soon discovered, was also filled with books.
For the next hour, Harry worked on the promise he'd made to himself. He first studied the art of conjuration as it had been known near the founding of Hogwarts. Then he read each new section on the subject, Tom's contributions being the last. At this point, Harry noted some inconsistencies with basic theory he'd been taught in school. Clearly he'd have to start with updating this section, Harry realized. Nevertheless, when he felt secure enough with the theory, he began attempting to conjure small things for himself.
He'd started with this skill for one simple reason: there was nothing within the Chamber of Secrets that he'd feel comfortable practicing other spells on. At the end of this practice session he'd only be able to conjure small objects, but even that would be an accomplishment for his age. Conjuration was a sixth year branch of Transfiguration. It would take him several sessions to master, but then he could move onto more interesting things.
Before he knew it, his time was up. Harry returned all books to where he'd found them, then rushed from the library section of the Chamber. It was probably close to 6:30 right now, but he still had to find another way out. After all, he couldn't use the same excuse for getting past Myrtle in her bathroom again.
Upon scanning the walls of the main Chamber, he discovered that many endings of pipes hid cleverly in shadows. They probably led to other ways out, Harry thought. After all, the Basilisk couldn't stay in this main area forever—she had to get her food from somewhere. He'd been planning to examine each one of the tunnels, but thinking of the Basilisk gave him another idea.
Walking over to the statue opposite the Chamber's main doors, he declared, 'speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!' The statue's mouth opened with a loud grinding and a shadow moved from within. Harry covered his eyes, knowing all too well that meeting the Serpent King's—or Queen's—gaze would bring him instant death. 'You are Circe?' he asked once he heard the snake's body touch the Chamber floor.
'Yes, speaker, that is my name. How do you know of me?' Though Harry couldn't see it, the snake flicked her tongue, capturing his scent in her memory.
'I am named Harry Potter. I know of your last Master, Tom Riddle,'' Harry replied. 'I require your assistance.'
'I will not rid the school of the "unworthy", as my last Master called them. I prefer the taste of other, larger animals,' the Basilisk said immediately. If snakes could pout, Harry thought with a slight grin, that's what Circe sounded like she was doing.
'Good,' Harry replied, relieved. 'I was only going to ask for information. Are there other exits that your past Masters and Mistresses have used? How many ways out of the Chamber of Secrets are there?'
The large snake flicked her tongue again. 'I know of many,' she said finally. 'My first Master—Salazar Slytherin—preferred the stairs behind my statue. They only need Parseltongue to appear.'
'Thank you, Circe.' Harry bowed to the Serpent King—or rather Queen. He paused to think for a moment, then added, 'if you wish, I can bring you food when I return.'
'Please do,' Circe replied eagerly. 'I am returning to my statue now, Master. You may open your eyes.'
After making sure that all movement had stopped, Harry did indeed reopen his eyes. He walked around to the back of the statue. From the front, it appeared to be right against the Chamber's back wall, but upon closer examination he realized that it was hiding a small alcove.
'stairs,' he hissed. Thankfully, this time his request was excepted, and a spiral staircase clicked into view. After only a moment's hesitation, he began to climb. Up and up he went, around and around in circles. This chamber must be farther under the school than Harry had thought. He found himself wondering where it would come out. Hopefully he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse for ending up somewhere he shouldn't be. He didn't have time to re-descend and find another way up.
About ten minutes later, he discovered his answer as he stepped into the entrance hall near the top of the stairs leading to the dungeons.
He also discovered that several people had already awakened and were enjoying an early breakfast in the Great Hall. So after a quick Scourgify just in case, Harry stepped through the fake wall and joined them.
Author's Note:
So yeah. Please note that Harry's views on things are not necessarily my own. (This comment pertaining to Myrtle.) I'll have to make this warning again later for Tom as well.
How did you like my Chamber of Secrets? It's essentially the same as the original but with some stuff added and seen from the point of view of a slightly more attached Harry.
I'd intended for this chapter to cover a lot more. I think the Chamber will be only briefly mentioned from now on. Then again, I thought it would just be a small thing in this chapter, and look what happened.
