CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: DOOR, REVISITED
Dungeon Corridor
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
14 June 1992
Harry scuffed his shoes along the corridor floor. So much had happened within the past couple of days. He'd faced Lord Voldemort, of all people. Lord Voldemort. Something strange had happened down in that final chamber as well, and Dumbledore had put it down to the power of love.
Harry didn't believe him for a second. Love. The power of love. How corny was that? It seemed like the sort of thing you'd see in some little kid's stupid dopey television show, but not something that happened in real life.
Besides, Harry was eleven, and far too old to believe in dumb stuff like that.
Harry cast his mind back to the morning in the Hospital Wing. The Headmaster had been so kind, and he'd called Harry brave. Sure, he'd been brave, but wasn't that a Gryffindor thing? At least, Harry thought grimly, the Headmaster hadn't taken points off Slytherin. Dumbledore had actually awarded him and Hermione a small amount of points for 'behaving responsibly with a priceless artifact,' and although Slytherin hadn't needed those points to win the House Cup, it made Harry feel good to contribute.
And speaking of Hermione…
Harry swallowed hard. Hermione had been incredibly distraught and blamed herself for what Lord Voldemort had done to Harry for some inexplicable reason, despite Harry and Dumbledore's best efforts to convince her otherwise. Harry had the feeling Hermione would be paying extra close attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts next year, which was really saying something since she currently out-studied every single Ravenclaw.
Harry looked up. Somehow, without him noticing, his feet had led him down to the rocky beach. Shrugging, Harry trudged across the shore. His arrival at the same beach at the beginning of the school year now seemed so long ago. He'd changed so much since then. He'd learned so much…
Harry pushed the Slytherin seal and idly watched as the door swung open.
"Lumos."
Wand tip ignited, Harry made his way down the dark stairwell. He really needed time alone with his thoughts, and he knew no one would disturb him down here. Harry walked to the end of the corridor, reaching the great door with its serpent guardians.
Harry plonked himself down on the corridor floor, propping his wand so it'd illuminate the area. He stretched his legs out and gazed up at the snakes encircling the door.
"It's funny," he began, voice echoing strangely in the darkness. "I've been getting the idea that there's a lot expected of me, all because of the Boy-Who-Lived stuff. It's dumb, really. I'm so famous for something I don't even remember, and no one knows how I did it. Now with the whole thing down in the final chamber with Voldemort, I feel like I'm going to need to do it all again. Only, I don't know how." Harry's nose pricked. "I just wish Dumbledore would be more open with…"
Harry trailed off as a grinding noise suddenly sounded. Scrambling to his feet, Harry swung his wandlight around, only to have his jaw drop to the floor as the door swung open, revealing a dark passage beyond. Harry swallowed hard. He should probably wait for Hermione and Ron, but at the same time, he wanted to be the one to discover something special.
Mustering his courage, Harry raised his wand high and strode through the doorway. Shortly after, his jaw dropped to the floor for the second time in as many minutes.
He was standing at the entrance to a room almost the size of the Hogwarts library. Vaulted ceilings soared upwards into the gloom, and the walls were covered with what appeared to be bookshelves and tapestries. Looking around for a light source better than his wand, Harry spotted several stone sconces bracketing the wall.
Harry pointed his wand towards the nearest one. "Hyacinthum Flamma!" A jet of
bluebell flames shot out of his wand and into the sconce. With a dull floosh, the other sconces lit up, bathing the room in pale light. Harry bit back a gasp. The entire room was done in a dark, Victorian type architecture. It vaguely reminded Harry of the Slytherin common room, but the modern twists present there weren't evident in the mystery room. Long black couches - no, they were called chaise lounges - formed a rectangle in the center of the room. Chairs in the same style sat next to them, and spindly-legged tables stood waiting to be loaded up with books.
Harry idly wandered around the outside of the room. Shelves upon shelves were laden with books, rolled scrolls, and strange looking devices. Tapestries depicting dragons and men in old-fashioned robes hung on the few open spots on the walls, and a large dark desk sat in a corner. Harry started to walk over, eyes still roving the room. It was clean - there wasn't any dust floating around - yet it still carried an air of neglect. He couldn't exactly pin down the feeling in words, but it felt like nobody had been there for a while.
Harry rested his fingers on the desk. It was crafted from a massive slab of wood - mahogany, perhaps - and has a serpent etched around its border. A small pile of books sat in the corner along with a small leather-bound notebook. A quill lay at the top of the desk, and an inkwell with a dried crust of ink sat next to it. Harry sat down in the chair, feet dangling a goodly distance from the ground. Feeling very professor-ly, Harry steepled his fingers and surveyed the room. It was definitely a library, or a study of some sort.
He shifted the books on the table. Iberian Magecraft looked interesting, as well as Stonehenge: A Ritualistic Approach. The rest of the books had indecipherable titles or were in languages Harry didn't understand. Harry put them aside, then reached for the journal, but paused halfway. There was something inscribed on the table…
Pushing his glasses further up his nose, Harry squinted at the tiny print.
Property of Salazar de Sliterín.
Harry's mind whirled. Salazar de Sliterín...was that Salazar Slytherin? A cursory glance at the amount of serpent decor suggested that yes, it was. So, that would mean that this was Salazar Slytherin's secret library? It certainly seemed like that was the case.
Harry's mouth suddenly went dry. He, Harry, had stumbled upon Salazar Slytherin's secret library? One that Hermione hadn't been able to find a reference to? One that seemed to not even exist?
It just didn't seem real.
Harry ran his fingers over the letters. They certainly looked real. They felt real.
The whole thing was just too fantastic to believe. He had to find Ron and Hermione.
Slytherin Common Room
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
14 June 1992
"Hermione!" Harry called, scanning the common room. "Millicent, do you know where Hermione is?"
The tall girl shrugged. "I think she's up in the dorm room. Why?"
"I need to talk to her. Could you go get her?"
"I suppose."
"Thanks! Oi, Ron!"
"What?"
"C'mere!"
"Okay."
Ron ambled across the common room just as Hermione came up the stairs from her dorm room.
"What's going on, Harry?"
"Uh, it's easier if I show you."
Hermione looked skeptical. "Okay. Lead on, then."
Harry headed out of the common room and down the stairs to the lower dungeon.
"Harry, are we going to where I think we're going?"
"Yes."
"But how -"
"Just wait! You'll see."
Hermione shut her mouth, and Harry led them across the rocky beach, through the hidden doorway and down the twisty staircase. They reached the end of the corridor, and Harry's heart dropped. The door was closed again.
"Harry, what's going on?"
Harry looked in disbelief. "The door...it was open before."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Did you just find it open?" Ron wondered.
"No...It was closed originally."
"Then how did it open?"
"I don't know."
"Well, were you doing anything special?"
Harry could feel his face going warm. "Er, kind of? I was, er, talking."
"Talking? Maybe there was some sort of password," Hermione guessed.
"I dunno."
"Well, what were you saying, Harry?"
"Nothing...it was personal."
"C'mon, Harry!"
"Just try to recreate what you did."
Harry sighed. "Okay." He sunk down onto the floor and gazed up at the snakes encircling the door. If he looked at them long enough, they almost looked alive. Harry tilted his head to the side, momentarily mesmerized by the serpents' eyes.
"I wasn't talking about much," Harry began, oblivious to how Ron's jaw dropped open, "I was just saying how I wished Dumbledore would be more open with me."
Stone grated on stone as the door opened.
"Well, that solves it," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Let's go on, then."
"Wait!"
"What, Ron?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips.
"Is nobody going to say anything about Harry being a Parselmouth?"
"A what?" Harry and Hermione asked almost simultaneously.
"A Parselmouth," Ron repeated. "Y'know, someone who can speak to snakes."
"There's a name for that?" Harry asked, just as Hermione demanded to know if that was even possible.
"It's obviously possible," Ron said. "Harry's just done it!"
"I've done it before, too," Harry chimed in. "Once I got to go to the zoo along with the Dursleys because they couldn't find a sitter for me. The boa constrictor was pretty nice."
Ron gaped at him.
"What, Ron?"
"You really don't know anything about Parseltongue or being a Parselmouth."
"Well, no."
Ron took a deep breath. "It's a trait found almost exclusively in the descendants of Salazar Slytherin. He's actually the only Hogwarts Founder not to come from Britain in some capacity. He was from Iberia, which is now Spain and Portugal, and while he was known here as Salazar Slytherin, he was a mage back in Iberia."
"A mage?" Harry asked.
"A very powerful wizard," Ron clarified. "Someone on a Dumbledore-type level. Anyway, one of his Iberian titles was Suge Hizlaria. It means Serpent Speaker."
"And?"
"And what?"
"You said Parselmouth like it was a bad thing."
"It kind of is a bad thing, at least in modern history."
"Really? Why?"
Ron shuffled his feet. "Typically, dark wizards are Parselmouths...the last couple of generations of House Gaunt were Parselmouths, and they were well known Blood Purists. I think two of them died in Azkaban, actually, for crimes against Muggles. There's also Herpo the Foul, who Binns vaguely covered in History of Magic."
"Oh my," Hermione murmured.
"And then there's the most well-known Parselmouth of the century. You-Know-Who."
"Who?" Harry asked, feeling rather confused.
"You-Know-Who."
"Oh, Lord Voldemort?"
Ron flinched, then ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Harry, you can't just say his name like that."
"Sorry."
"It's fine… just don't do it again."
Silence descended upon them. "Does this mean I'm going to turn into a dark wizard?" Harry asked nervously.
"No, not at all," Ron said. "It's not a concrete thing. It's just what's happened recently, so I wouldn't go around saying that you're a Parselmouth. People might think you're dark, or related to House Slytherin or House Gaunt, and given the current political situation, that's not something you'd want."
"Why?" Hermione wanted to know.
"I don't know a lot," Ron admitted, "but my oldest brother Bill holds the Weasley seat. Charlie, my second oldest brother, is supposed to have the Gryffindor seat, but he ran off to Romania to study dragons, then Percy will have the Prewett seat, but he's not old enough yet. Er, that's beside the point though. Bill will sometimes tell me stuff about the Wizengamot, and the current Lord Gaunt has not only the Gaunt seat, but also the Slytherin and Peverell seats. Apparently he's bad news, too. He's a conservative Blood Purist and some of the legislation he wanted to pass was frankly quite awful."
"Oh."
"You guys want to explore the chamber?" Harry asked, abruptly changing the subject. "There's books inside, Hermione."
"Oooh!"
"Anything interesting for normal blokes like us, Harry?"
"You better believe it!"
Ron smiled, his lopsided grin splitting his face. Harry grinned back. It was great to have friends.
A/N:
Only one more chapter to go! It's scheduled to be uploaded on Sunday, 2 December.
In my headcanon, the role of Thomas Gaunt is played by Benedict Cumberbatch.