Book Two
Being a continued exploration of the differences in Mr. Potter's life pursuant to his understanding Victorian flower language at age 11.
Harry Potter, all related characters, and the original Harry Potter narrative are properties of J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 9
Worst
"-because at the rate things are going Black's going to destroy this school by morning."
Harry abandoned despair for fear. "What?"
Fred handed him a photograph. It showed a very finely-wrought message overlaying the original 'the chamber has opened' scrawl. The new message was clean-cut lettering, almost machined in its precision, with a metallic glint on each letter. Harry had to focus quite hard to stop admiring the beautiful lettering and start worrying about the message it bore.
THESERPENTWILLRISETOCONSUMETHEIMPURE
ATDAWNALLSHALLENDANDANEWWORLDARISE
ABANDONHOPEALLFOOLSWHODARETODREAM
THETRUTHOFDEATHAWAITSYOURFEARFULEYES
"That's... odd," Harry decided. The message was similar in tone to Voldemort's evil plan - destroy the corrupted world, replace it with a world of his own creation where everyone he doesn't like is dead.
Draco took the picture. "Sounds like Blood Purist standard to me," he told them. "Get rid of the impure, embrace the bright new dawn, crush those that dare to compare themselves to old established families like mine..." He noticed every Gryffindor in the room staring at him. "What? We're just better than you, alright? I don't have to prove that."
Harry felt a bit disturbed. He also missed Ron, who would have chimed in with a -
"Shut up, Malfoy-"
-by now. Wait, who said that?
"Back at you, Weasley," Draco said to Fred. "I just said I don't need to prove it; I've got no intention of crushing the unworthy beneath my perfectly-polished heel. They'll gladly do it themselves for the pleasure of my approving smile, you see."
"There's definitely air coming out of you," George told him. "But all I hear is my family isn't any older than yours, Mister Weasley."
Draco glared at him, and said nothing. This was probably very wise of him, since Greg had been found Petrified that morning and could no longer weave words of wonder and legal exemption.
"Right," Harry announced. "That gives us... seven hours to learn Hermione's wardbreaker, use it, find Black, stop him, find the Basilisk that isn't mine, make it mine, stop it-"
"Have I mentioned how unfair it is that Harry gets to be a Parselmouth?" Draco opined.
"-and have everything wrapped up neat as teatime before dawn," Harry concluded. "Did I miss anything?"
"Yeah, don't die," Draco told him. "Seriously, it's like I'm in a room full of Gryffindors."
It had taken Luna nearly two hours to decide that she could manage Hermione's spell. Harry had just been relieved that she wasn't Petrified. From the look of things, none of the students had been Petrified since the message had appeared.
Harry was worried. The first message had accompanied the first Petrification, and he still wasn't sure that some reclusive teacher in a secret wing of the castle hadn't caught the Basilisk's reflected eye.
He was also wondering why Black, a notorious convicted murderer who had already escaped from maximum-security for-the-rest-of-your-very-short-life Wizard prison, hadn't killed any of his victims. Maybe it wasn't Black after all? Maybe whoever sprung him from Azkaban won't let him kill people? Harry shivered. Black was more than capable of terrorizing Hogwarts for years; he didn't want to think about someone that could control Black that completely.
Luna kept puzzling over Hermione's research notes, and had borrowed Draco's broom to help her keep up with their much longer strides. Every few minutes she'd make an intrigued sound, or mention some obscure magical rumour that Hermione had summarily proven or destroyed.
They had just reached the Chamber, a small force of Dementors - including Steve, who had somehow managed to recover from Sparkles' Gaze in just a few months, and Not-Steve, who Harry could almost understand - trailing just out of reach of their various Patronuses. Not-Steve had indicated through much unintelligible hissing that Harry was likely to be eaten if they met him without a Patronus, despite their determination to not kill students.
When Harry had asked why, Not-Steve's answer had been completely incomprehensible. Harry wished he knew how McGonnagall and Dumbledore managed to understand Dementors, sometimes.
"Harry," Fred said, halting the party just outside Myrtle's loo. From the sound of it, she was humming to herself. Does she think it's Sunday? Wait, it is Sunday. But it's not the second Sunday, Harry assured himself. We can still finish this before sunrise.
"Harry," George insisted.
"What?"
Fred handed him the Map. "Look at the hospital wing."
Harry looked.
Harry panicked. "This can't be happening, it's not dawn yet, he's breaking his promise-"
"Not that he actually made a promise," Draco reminded him.
"His implied promise, then. This isn't how bad guys are supposed to work!"
Draco laughed at him. "What then, Potter?"
Bad sign, Draco's using my surname.
"You think every villain is going to be an honorable wizard like my father? You think they'll keep their promises?" Draco scoffed. "The bad guys are bad, Harry. They lie, they cheat, they steal, they do anything to win. And winning, to them? It's us losing. Losing our lives, our futures, everything forever."
Neville checked his pocket.
"I-" Harry choked out.
Draco didn't stop. "The bad guy in that Chamber? The one that's been Petrifying everyone and their brother?"
"Yeah, too bad about Percy," Fred noted.
"He's killed before. Think about that, Harry - you're going down there to face a murderer."
Harry realized he'd actually done that before. "I've actually done that before, last year, Volde-"
"The Dark Lord was different, Harry. The Dark Lord killed by choice. He didn't take lives because they were convenient."
"Actually-"
"Yes, Luna, he had minions who were terrible people and killed for sport. But he? He himself? The Dark Lord?"
Luna hesitated.
"He only killed for deeply personal reasons. And to destroy his opposition in the heat of battle."
"I don't see what-"
"The difference," Draco hissed, "is that Sirius Black killed twelve bystanders along with his enemy. They weren't fighting him, they weren't a threat, they were just there. Even the Dark Lord would have just kidnapped them or Obliviated them or controlled their minds or cursed them all."
"Rather a lot of options there, Draco," Neville told him.
"I know, he was a terrible person, but he at least had honor," Draco grumbled. "So, Harry, what's wrong with the map?"
Harry had been staring at it while Draco ranted. "There's nobody in the Hospital wing," he whispered. He wanted to scream the words, but couldn't find the strength.
"So?"
FredandGeorge returned from wherever they'd gone. "It's for real, Harry, they're all gone."
"What about Madam Pomfrey?"
Draco looked between them in confusion.
"Oh, no," Neville breathed.
"Draco," Harry intoned, heavy of heart, "everyone who was Petrified was in there."
Realization broke slowly over the scion of the ancient and most noble house of Malfoy. Watching the crest of the emotion wash through his face was a study in architectural humanity. Harry didn't even know what that was supposed to mean, but it sounded deep in his mind, and he stuck with it.
"No..."
"Even Snape," Harry confirmed.
Draco looked at his companions. "We're doomed," he informed them.
"I wonder if they've been eaten," Luna said, airily.
"McGonnagall's off the map, too," George confirmed. "Not even in that secret chamber where she hides the firewhisky, so unless she's off to Hogsmeade for more while Dumbledore's still on his way, Black got her."
Luna floated up from the pipe's entrance on Draco's Nimbus 2001, her hair floating about her in a static haze. "I think I've managed to open the curse," she told them. "But there's an awful lot of energy in the air. Do you suppose there might be Nargles in the chamber?"
Harry shrugged. Five Dementors, led by Steve and Not-Steve, dove into the pipe. No Dementors were flung back out. "Looks clear, everyone," he said, feeling a bit redundant. "Remember, use those goggles to keep from dying, keep your Patroni active, and keep in sight of everybody else. Do not split up, I'm looking at you, FredandGeorge."
They nodded, expressions grim.
What I wouldn't give for Ron right now, Harry wished. Or Hermione. Or Snape. Or another day to prepare.
"Right. Sparkles, lead the way. Myrtle, I hope to see you soon for crumpets. Luna, you haven't had a chance to learn the goggles. Stay here and look pretty."
Luna complied without even trying. Harry still didn't know if the silver cloud around her was her Patronus or just a bunch of glitter, but either way the Dementors hadn't bothered her since she'd first conjured it.
"Twin Flames of the Immortal Laughter, you're our only hope against Black. Get him."
Fred and George nodded.
"Neville, do whatever you can do. Try not to read the Necronomicon, though."
Neville looked like he wanted to ask what the Necronomicon was.
"Draco -"
"Look cool, be awesome, don't get anyone killed. I know the drill."
"You're out of minions again," Harry told him.
Draco grinned. "Let's make some history," he suggested.
Harry managed to cushion their fall, which was convenient as the only thing at the bottom of the pipe had been bones. Several centuries worth of animal bones, from moles to snakes to bug things Harry couldn't recognize. Sure are big, though.
There were three or four different tunnels leading away from the bone room. Fred checked the Map, just in case Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were secret pseudonyms for the Founders, but it didn't show the Chamber at all. Harry wasn't surprised - even if the map was a Hogwarts treasure, Slytherin wouldn't have put his secret legacy in a map just anyone could use.
"Hey, Fred, can I see the map?"
"Here," Fred told him. "We'll be wanting it back when we make it out alive, though."
"Sure," Harry agreed. He focused on the map, and his best guess of their current location. "Show me the Chamber of Secrets," he hissed.
"Was that Parseltongue again?" George asked him.
Harry nodded. "Didn't work, though. Either Slytherin didn't put the Chamber in here, or this map wasn't made by the founders." He handed the map back to Fred, who was rolling his eyes. "This way, I think," Harry declared, picking the tunnel that seemed most secretive.
The Twins had vanished by the time Harry, Draco and Neville had reached the next chamber. It was rather disappointing, really, with just the one large metal door and its fancy snake motif. "Open to my command, and close behind me," Harry told the door. "Let none pass who do not speak the word 'confabulate'."
The doors opened for him, then snapped shut when Draco tried to pass through.
"Ah, sorry, Draco," Harry apologized. "Er, say 'confabulate'."
"I can't say that, it's all hissy," Draco complained.
"Er." Didn't think of that. "It's, uh, hsah, shshehs, ihsassha, hhahhe, rhhe, ssehi."
Draco stared at him. "Sa, shez, issa, haha, re, see," he attempted.
"Confabulate," Harry directed.
"Pants," Draco attempted.
"No, you said Pants, you needed to say confabulate, there's no hsehrer in confabulate."
"Why do I need to say turquoise?" Draco demanded.
"Do I need to say hissy hissy hiss?" inquired Neville.
Harry sighed. "Disregard the order to open only to those who speak the word 'confabulate'," he told the door. "Open only to these here with me now, and any person with red hair who speaks the word 'open'. Now open up."
The doors opened again.
Draco's viper Patronus slithered along the floor, while Neville's formless cloud of persistent mist floated along in his shadow. Sparkles brought up the rear, blocking the entire passageway. Harry was still getting used to the Airsight Goggles, even after hours of practice, but his Patronus kept telling him which way the walls were and where to step carefully. Neville seemed to be having no trouble at all navigating blindfolded, and Draco had elected to skip the Goggles in favor of being stylish. Harry really hoped that wouldn't end with a dead Draco.
Their first clue that something was wrong came when Neville's Patronus suddenly flashed to five times its size, then reduced to a cloud again instantly. Sparkles reported seeing himself in the cloud for a moment, but that couldn't be correct, could it?
"Neville, what just happened?"
Neville turned to face him, which was eerily accurate for a guy in a blindfold. "I think Everyman found himself a Dementor," he replied. "From the look of it, it was Steve."
"He is correct, Master," Sparkles told him. "I recognize this as the creature I first saw."
Why would Neville's Patronus attack a Dementor without being told? "Neville, why did your Patronus attack Steve? And, er, how did your Patronus attack Steve?"
"Everyman is a Boggart," Neville explained. "When a Dementor approaches me with intent to do me harm, my Patronus attacks it, even if I've told it not to - I'm not sure why Steve would turn on us, but that's what happened here."
Harry was impressed. "You've got a Patronus that strikes fear to the heart of Death?"
Neville smiled. "I think it's because of all of Snape's training," he admitted. "Fear has become such a large part of who I am now, and Boggarts only show me what I wish to see... it's interesting."
"Good for a long discussion tomorrow," Harry agreed. "For now, let's try not to get killed by the Basilisk, Black, or whatever else might be down here."
Draco didn't say anything.
"Draco?"
"I do not sense him here, Master."
Crud vapors on a loaf of pumpernickel bread being eaten by a giant with two beards and a table. "Where did he go?"
"I know not. His Patronus is not within my awareness, however; either he has dismissed it, or he has put it under your Invisibility Cloak."
"Neville, I think Draco just got snatched," Harry said, his voice trembling.
"You're probably right," Neville agreed. "Looks like a larger chamber ahead, might be the main section of this place. Should be answers there."
Harry sincerely wished that would be true.
"-carrying them like cordwood, very difficult not to-"
"Sparkles, did you hear that?"
"Yes, Master," Sparkles replied. "It is heading towards the chamber ahead. I believe it may be the Basilisk, traveling through paths meant only for our kind."
"Harry?"
"Careful. The Basilisk is probably ahead."
Neville nodded, and - according to Sparkles - put his blindfold on.
"Wait, didn't he already have it on?"
"Yes," Sparkles confirmed. "He seems to have put it on again, without first having taken it off."
Neville then put on a second blindfold, on top of the one he was already wearing twice.
"Neville, how do you wear one blindfold twice at the same time?"
"Illusions."
"Ah."
Harry heard someone shouting in the room ahead.
"You're a miserable failure, you maniac!" Draco had been tied up by his feet, his Patronus gone. It looked as though he'd managed to fell a pair of Dementors before that happened, though - by Harry's count, that left two Dementors in the Chamber somewhere else. The ragged shapes in front of him had probably been poisoned by Draco's little viper from the way they were twitching on the stones.
Somebody laughed. It was a maniacal laugh, indeed; Draco's evaluation of his captor was definitely spot on. "Come on then," the as-yet unseen figure that was probably Sirius Black mocked. "I've left you the broken wand, go ahead! Cast a spell!"
"Serpenso-"
"Accio," cut in the voice. "And now you're Petrified, and I can stop worrying about you. Put him with the others."
Harry hurried forward, just in time to see the wind patterns of a large something dragging a small something into an open something. The open something closed.
"Ahead of you, Master-"
"Expellipuer. Porta involare." Neville grunted as he was flung back into the tunnel, and the wind patterns in the room changed as though something was blocking the passage that Harry had just stepped out of. "Diffindo."
Harry felt his goggles fall from his face, a thin stream of blood flowing from the cut he'd just received on his temple.
"Ah, Harry Potter," greeted the scraggly madman in front of him. Harry's first thought was to compare him to Lupin, but where Lupin was shabby from years of wear, this man was unkempt from ten years of not caring. "So good of you to come. I was worried you wouldn't make it - and after I invited you all this way!"
Harry growled. "Sirius Black, I presume?"
"You presume too little," the man told him.
"I-"
Two red blurs materialized from opposite sides of the room, streaking towards the man with impossible fury.
"THIS ONE'S FOR MUM!"
"AND THIS ONE'S FOR RON!"
"AND IF YOU'RE STILL STANDING-"
"WE'VE GOT PLENTY OF OTHER RELATIONS!" howled FredandGeorge, their wands weaving powerful spells of humorous affliction and quick victory.
Black chuckled, and his wand flicked twice. A stone under Fred's foot twisted, sending the boy to the ground and fouling his aim - George got a rock to the face. Neither Weasley was out of the fight yet, but they'd both missed with their spells, and George had lost his Airsights.
Harry drew his wand. He wondered why he'd even put it away to begin with.
"Expelliarmus," snapped the man in the center of the melee, and Harry's wand flashed away, clattering somewhere in the darkness.
"Po-"
"Stu-"
Black punched Fred in the kidneys before he could finish casting, then stepped behind him, letting George's well-aimed jet of red light strike his own brother.
"BLACK!"
Harry pulled his second tin of itching powder out of his pocket, and threw it at Black.
"Expelli-"
"Protego," Black spat, deflecting George's spell. Harry's hurled tin cracked open on the shield of light, spilling itchy powder all around Black. The manic grin got more feverish.
"Itching powder? How lovely!" Another twitch of the wand, and George barely avoided another rock to the face.
Harry started looking for his own wand. Giant statue of Salazar Slytherin, no, crazed mass murderer, no, dark corner with the smell of mold- jackpot!
"Confundus!"
"Crucio!"
"Rafflesia!"
"Vox Ignis!"
"How about Luposlipophobia!"
"Ooh, not bad- Imperio!"
Harry found his wand, whirled to face the battle - what had Black used on him? Expelliarmpits? Exellent argus?
"Raxacoricofallapatorius!"
"What?"
Right. "Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, figuring the expulsion of armaments would probably help even if he hit both of them.
He hit both of them.
Black drew a knife.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried again. The spell backfired, probably due to his haste and inexperience, throwing his wand back down the nearest passage.
George managed to land a large meringue pie in Black's face. Sadly, it wasn't laced with chloroform.
"Aaaaaaagh!"
But in a pinch, cayenne pepper will do.
Come on, come on, losing my wand had better not be one of those things that happens in threes, Harry thought, fearing for George's life as he hunted down his wand again.
