Harry Scamander and the King of the Animals

Chapter 15

His hands slowly touched the wooden door that would lead to the Founder's room, hidden behind the architect's statue. Within seconds, a small parchment emerged from the cracks within the door's wooden frame, composing itself with a wavy font traced in red ink for capital letters and bright blue for the small ones. The margins were traced by light green foliage, and at the lower border stood a single phrase written in jet black.

So mote it be.

He turned around carefully, taking slow steps to reach back to where the remaining students stood in wait, some nervously murmuring one to the other. As he reached them, their voices dwindled down to a bare minimum, and in the end died out completely. He coughed lightly to gather their attention.

"Ahem." He began, "Behind the Architect's statue lays the Founder's room. The room was also the place where the Four Founders themselves vowed to teach their students to their best capacity, and is of course invisible and inaccessible unless you share the founder's blood, or receive written permission by one of said blood." As the parchment was brought forward, the architect's statue moved. The statue, of gold and bronze, moved its giant hand downwards, upon whom a quill too big to even be considered for writing stood.

Small gasps echoed in the crowd, and if anything he knew that such a small display of magic, such a small display of his ability, would be enough to convince many to at least sign.

"Come forward and state your name to the cause of the King, then proceed behind the architect's statue to the door." He intoned, "Do not worry; it's not an unbreakable vow or anything like that. It's just a list to make sure you can enter the clubroom." Harry added as he saw the queasy looks on the people there, the tone lapsing from serious and solemn to more down to earth and gentle.

There were sighs of relief after those words though, and with those came the start of the names. Hesitantly at first, in the end all it took was the brown haired and glass wearing Tracey to be the first to move forward, gathering her courage with every step.

"Tracey Davis." The girl gave him a wink, making a mock curtsy as she then added, "Let's rock, King." She scampered to the side of the statue, disappearing from sight for a moment, until the clack of a door opening and closing came from behind them, and with that the rest moved far faster.

"Draco Malfoy." The blond haired boy walked stiffly, nodding with his face to Harry before walking out of sight behind the statue. There were low murmurs following that act, many in disbelief over the fact that a pureblood Slytherin was apparently giving his name to a cause that went so much against everything his family had stood for. Yet that did not stop a Hufflepuff from moving forward.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley." The Hufflepuff stated his name clearly, before gingerly adding to Harry. "We'll be writing history, and a Hufflepuff will be in it finally." The boy had brown hair and dark eyes, and as he delivered his little 'speech' he walked proudly behind the statue. Harry sighed. He'd have to explain that there would be no 'Hufflepuffs' or 'Slytherins' afterwards.

"Hannah Abbott." The girl was a bit nervous, her blond hair tied in pony-tails as her blue eyes looked over to Harry for something. He smiled back at her, and with a quick nod the girl walked behind the statue as fast as she could.

"Seamus Finnigan." The round faced boy had sandy hair and blue eyes, his robes bore the symbols of Gryffindor, and while his eyes were clearly displaying his nervousness, he merely shook his head hard to mutter. "Not all Gryffindors are dorks…Let's tear down the houses, alright?" Harry nodded with a light smile, and the boy apparently gathered enough courage from that to move on.

"Kevin Entwhistle." The boy held a rectangular face with short cropped brown hair and dark eyes, his look wasn't nervous though, as he stated his name and then proceeded past the statue without much of a word. He was a Ravenclaw though, one he hadn't much talked to at all.

"Ginevra Weasley." The Slytherin Weasley walked up to him nervously, shyly keeping her head down as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I…I'm with you King!" She nervously exclaimed, before dashing behind the statue. Harry rolled his eyes at such a display, before staring at the remaining student in the hall.

"Hermione Granger." The girl with bushy brown hair said the name easily, but nothing appeared written upon the parchment. She scrunched an eyebrow up in surprise, only for Harry to do the same. He didn't know what laws governed this type of magic, but apparently it related to stating one's own name for…trust? So maybe the girl simply didn't believe in him, and she was there but to spy. It could also be that there were only just so much people the quill would write within a day or things like that.

"Never mind then." Hermione muttered hastily, before turning tails and running away quickly. Harry didn't try to stop her, instead turning to the architect's statue and blinking in surprise as the statue resumed its normal form with the parchment scroll safely encased in bronze and held in the statue's other hand. It was kind of strange, actually. On one side he hadn't expected it, but on the other he actually had. It was as if he knew what certain things in the castle did, and at the same time a part of him didn't.

Deciding not to dwell on the argument any longer, he too walked around the statue of the architect, to enter within the room and close the door behind him. The seven applicants to the club, albeit calling it club was actually a bit debasing, looked at him enter with a strange uneasiness. The small miniature of the Hogwarts castle that normally would have stood at the center of the round table within the founders' room was gone, replaced with a very elaborate golden tea trail, with eight cups.

The table itself had changed, and instead of being what Harry remembered, it was now perfectly circular, with eight seats all identical in form, kind of reminding him of the tale of King Arthur and the round table actually.

"Stop whining Godric. The table is round. There isn't a higher place."

"Then why is your chair higher, Salazar?"

"Because I'm smaller than you, sit and it will adjust so that all stare at each other at the same height."

Harry blinked as he gestured for the others to take their seats, just as he took his own. Quickly the noise of the scuttling of the chairs gave way to silence once more, and as they all stared at one another, the tea cups suddenly sprung to life floating in front of each of them, together with their contents.

"The service is good at least." Justin said, trying to break the ice.

"Are you the one doing all of this, Scamander?" Kevin queried, his face scrunched up in thought of the apparent usage of some wand-less magic.

"Call me Harry," he said back, "And no. I think it's the room itself. Castle is filled with magic, quite a lot of things are pretty different from what they seem, and far more do far too much than what they should." Somehow, Harry's words brought him to think about the seventeenth bathroom stall in the castle up in the sixth floor. That one could be used to clog all other bathrooms.

Just why the architect had decided to place it there was a mystery to him, just as why he thought it warranted enough attention too, but it was better to just let it go and move forward. His eyes travelled to the sides of the room, where once shelves of books stood and now windows that let the light of the outside flow within were. Out of all the changes though, the most important was that the ceiling had taken on the form of a mirror surface, and strangely enough it appeared as if it could let him see anything reflected upon it that stood on the table.

The room itself was perfect to conduct honest meetings, because it ensued no way for one to be treated unequally from another, and because it prevented cheating.

"Betrayals from the outside…can destroy the gilded cages of truth…"

Harry blinked. The voice was starting to grow neater with time, more definite. It felt like having some sort of Gollum while he was the Smeagle. If this was the after effect of the Crucio coupled with the Obliviate, he had no idea. He knew he wasn't actually mad, not completely at least. If he could cut off on the punishment, then maybe he'd return to sanity.

"I am sure you have questions." Harry began slowly, "So let us start with just a bit of a preamble: no title calling. No house stereotyping. From the moment you stepped through that door, there is no Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. There is Hogwarts. We are all Hogwarts students. This is the basic concept. I suppose all of you can understand this."

Seven nods came back to him, and so he continued. "Now, I do not know many of you, but I suppose the first thing we should do is get to know each other: the world will not change in one day, and Britain will not be controlled in a fortnight. I think we can start by going from the one in front of me and work our way clockwise." As soon as he said that, the girl in front of him on the other side of the round table nodded, before standing slightly up from the chair.

"I'm…Hannah, Hannah Abbott; my mother's a witch while my father is a muggle, I'm a half-blood." She began, only for Harry to raise his right hand in a 'no' gesture.

"There is no need for explaining the blood status of one. None here care." The looks of disbelief went not to him this time, but to Draco, who was uneasily looking around at being the center of the attention, "Sorry, please continue." Harry added, and so Hannah queasily began once more.

"Well, I like Herbology, but I'm afraid I'm a dunce in it too…" She muttered the last words, "I…I'm not really much of a talker really, and I'm…kind of…well…" She dropped back down on her seat, her hands in front of her face as she was probably turning a reddish color from embarrassment. Not that Harry thought it was possible to actually turn another color, but being flustered was perfectly normal.

Harry's eyes settled on the boy next to her, Seamus Finnigan, who with a rich Irish accent began to speak.

"Well, me name's Seamus, Finnigan Seamus. I like fireworks and apparently my wand agrees: burned the feather instead of making it fly ya see at charms and the likes. I'm a bit tired of all that anger going around Hogwarts. Can't fault the other houses since it's true the Weasley prank hard; I'm here to show that it's not the house that makes the person, but it's the heart of the student that makes him." He finished by lightly tapping his chest with his right hand, before passing the word to the Ravenclaw next to him.

"I'm Kevin Entwhistle." The dark haired boy began slowly, "I like reading, and watching old western films. My father got treated bad one day in Diagon alley by a witch only because he was a muggle. I hate that word: muggle, like they're 'muggers' or something like that. I want to change that. We're in the twentieth century: it's time for the wizard world to know what it means."

Harry nodded, and then the word went to the only first year of the group, the Slytherin Weasley. The girl appeared nervous as she stood up. Her skin appeared far paler than usual, as if she hadn't seen the light of the day in a long time. Her eyes were haunted, and her red hair was sort of a lighter and paler shade than usual. Still, the red contrasted well enough with the green of her Slytherin robes.

"I'm Ginevra Weasley," the girl began slowly, her head downcast; "Ginny is usually what I'm called by the rest of my family." She took a small breath, before continuing, "I like playing Quidditch and I know a mean Bat-Bogey hex: I'm not one who goes down without a fight." She finished, with her eyes narrow and her fists clenching. Well, at least she was serious and driven.

Harry nodded to the girl, who was at his right, and then stood up to speak.

"I'm Harry. I'm still debating my surname, so just call me Harry," he said with a small smile on his lips, "I've decided on this club because I felt the need to do something." He started, "People think that as long as everything is fine, then there's no need for change…but who decides what is fine? Who decides when 'fine' means turning the head the other way? Who decides that no change is necessary, even if it harms all in the long run? I do not believe things should stay the way they are. We must change ourselves and those near us, now that we can do something. To do nothing is just to worsen the situation for all." He took a deep breath as he sat back down. "We will change Hogwarts."

"Well," the girl to his left began, "I'm Tracey Davis. I like to listen to rock music, and I've got all the Beatles collection at home. I like reading Dickens' books and well, I hope the school can go back to being normal. I'd really hate to see it closed down."

Draco looked nervous, as the girl sat down and it became his turn to stand up. Slowly, as if he was fighting against himself, the blond haired boy stood up from his chair.

"Hello." He squeaked out, as if his voice had given away in the middle of the word. "I'm Draco." He said, "I'm good at Potions. That's all." Then he sat back down. Nervous. Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn't thought the boy had nothing to say except that; he clearly did have at least more than one interest or things to share, after all it wasn't as if he had grown up in…

Oh. That was the reason. Draco was after all the son of a Death Eater: if he couldn't speak of blood status, of pure blood policies and of Slytherin's prowess…then he had little to say. He had probably been groomed into being a perfect Magical Nazi. Yet here he was, entering what seemed like the birthing spot of a new Communism, and he was even trying his best. It was kind of strange though. He would have thought Draco wouldn't have stayed, while instead Neville…

Neville not staying around had been a bad hit. He had thought the boy would have remained with him. He had shared the secrets of the chamber and of the room of requirements with him and yet the boy had left him there. Draco instead had remained. If it was because of teenager rebellion or not, Harry didn't know of course, but what he knew was that he would consider Draco a friend too; just like he had thought Neville to be.

"Well I'm Justin." The last one spoke, "I'm friends with Hannah here," he added pointing to the girl with a bobbing gesture of his head, "And I like Lockhart's books. Especially Magical Me is his best work in my opinion: he truly had a tragic upbringing, having to face both Dragon Pox and a curse and breaking them both during his third year of school in order to reach his fourth and give his OWLS sooner." The boy pointed out, earning a rolling eye from Hannah.

"As if he actually did that!"

"He was in Ravenclaw wasn't he?" Kevin pointed out, "Wouldn't that mean he'd be smart enough to get his owls sooner?"

"Yes, but then again he wouldn't have received permission to attend school, had he had Dragon Pox." Tracey remarked, "I mean: I had Dragon Pox when I was little, it's really contagious and you can't just go to school with it."

For a few more minutes, the discussion took a pleasant turn with people speaking one to the other, until Draco idly remarked.

"Shouldn't we start discussing on how we are going to change the school?" He pointed out offhandedly, as the rest of the club members owlishly nodded.

Harry hadn't actually realized it, but his mouth spoke before he could say anything.

"Of course: it was not by happenchance that I chose to speak about Slytherin and Hufflepuff's dormitories and where they should rightfully be today." He began slowly. "As you know, the Dark Tower has…" and the center of the table folded itself into a parchment that sprung from within its paper the miniature of Hogwarts in its splendor. It then zoomed on towards the Dark Tower, displaying not only its levels but also the wards placed within and all that it held, as if the walls were made of glass.

It was, in one word, just like looking at those holographic things that were in the science-fiction films. There was no-one in the tower though, except a couple of ghosts that merely hovered around.

"Wicked." Ginny whispered short of breath.

"Damn awesome." Justin's two cents added.

"Well…I'll be…" Seamus stared in awe.

"As I was saying," Harry continued, trying his best to look unaffected by the strange magic happening around the table, "The Dark Tower was once the Slytherin's real dormitories." Suddenly, another tower similar in size to the Dark one appeared right next to the first one, however this one's interiors were draped a soft luscious green and held many levels similar to those of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw's own.

"Oh." He mouthed. "Well, anyway the idea was to do the same with Hufflepuff's tower and convince the student population to move into their respective real dormitories. We should start working on getting the old look of the towers back into the new ones, and then…well, that should work into endearing ourselves to the general Hogwarts population."

"That would take months!" Hannah exclaimed, "And the Hufflepuff's dormitories are fine! They're cozy and warm." At her words, Justin nodded.

"I can see why you'd want to change the Dark Tower back into the Slytherins dorms, but why not let the professors do it?"

"In nineteen twenty-two Fascism rose to power through a show of strength called 'The march on Rome'." Harry began slowly, "However only with strength it would not have lasted. A power with no people behind is not a power at all." The boy explained, "The Fascists were pretty much the watered down versions of the Nazi, who we can compare to 'muggle' Death Eaters."

The muggle-born and half-blood students nodded, since they had been living in the normal world, some things had been picked up. Ginny Weasley merely listened enraptured, or faking it well enough for Harry to believe it anyway. Draco's face was frowning lightly at his words, but it then morphed into a small grin.

"To keep the power, Mussolini enacted laws and passed edicts that generally increased the well-being of much of the population." He began carefully, "Hitler did the same. People do not care if they are ruled by a tyrant who ascended through blood and violence, as long as they can get through their normal life with normality. People are selfish beings down to their very cores…" He took a deep breath, "And very few have the strength of resolve to walk through change and keep their ideals firmly planted. Change is inevitable."

"So we're making the Slytherins better so that they can trust us?" Seamus pointed out.

"We are eight students," Harry began, "To override the Headmaster and to make the whole school peacefully accept the removal of houses, what we need is general consensus. Once that is done, dormitories may be selected devoid of houses classification within the school…as per the initial project." He finished speaking as the two three dimensional towers in the center of the table disappeared, to give way to the four towers separated by the class years. Yellow numbers ranging from one to seven flew over the towers, with the seven standing next to a golden P and H.

"Prefects and Head boy and girl with the seventh years," Harry mused over, "This was what it was meant to be in the beginning."

"You know Harry? You seem to know an awful lot. I'm pretty sure this isn't written in a history book though." Kevin pointed out.

"The Chamber of Secrets holds a Basilisk as old as the school itself, and Salazar loved to chat with her." Harry deadpanned, "I also do have the diaries of the architect of Hogwarts in Salazar's private shelves." He mused over. "But they're written in parseltongue. The architect was one probably."

"Or maybe Salazar forged them." Hannah pointed out, "Anyway, how are we actually going to clean up the towers?"

"Oh that's the easy part." Harry replied with a light grin, taking his wand out, "The Hard work way. If I'm right, soon enough the Slytherin's parents will try and get their children moved elsewhere. Let it slip tonight at dinner that we intend on restoring the dormitories as they were and that we'll be working on it for the benefit of all the school."

"I can get a couple of Slytherins in it with some bullshit concerning 'getting points for inter house unity' and stuff like that." Draco pointed out.

"Pansy would probably just follow you around like a lost dog anyway." Tracey chuckled, "Why is it that she didn't come with you?"

"None of your business," Draco quickly closed the argument, "Anyway: if there's nothing else, we should adjourn meeting at another date, shouldn't we?"

Harry nodded, standing up together with the rest of the club's men and women.

"So mote it be." The words escaped each of the student's lips at the same time as they stood up, and as their eyes opened up wide in shock they all looked towards Harry.

"I think it's our motto." Harry offhandedly remarked, "Either that, or it's one of the magical effects of the room in question…"

"All right then, I'd have rather had something like 'Let's rule' or 'All hail the King' but it's fine like this." Justin pointed out, "So…next Monday afternoon?"

"Shouldn't we strike the iron while it's hot?" Ginny said, "How about on Friday?"

"Friday's out: I've got training with Snape of all people." Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head, "Wednesday?"

"I've got the flying lessons and afterwards there's Astronomy." Ginny pointed out.

"Uhm…" Draco tilted his head to the side, before suddenly clapping his hands, "You know we do need a professor to legalize the club, and if you're training with Snape..."

"I already have the perfect professor in mind Draco," Harry replied with a toothy grin, "One that isn't the head of any house or biased at all."

"Who? Is it Lockhart perhaps?" Hannah asked repressing a look of disgust, "Please tell me it's not him."

"I'm thinking about Binns." He shrugged back, "He won't worry about what we do, and I'm sure I can get him to accept the club as it is."

"And since he's a ghost he won't be active at all in supervising us." Seamus snickered, "It's perfect."

"Good. Now remember: we are Hogwarts students. Help the first years, act nice around and let's all come up with plans to get the rightful dormitories back into the students' hands before the teachers can act." Harry finished, "Next Monday, same time." With those final words, they trickled out of the room.

Harry had barely taken a few steps outside however that a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He spun around quickly, but the hand merely let go immediately and raised itself in a mock gesture of surrender. Harry's green eyes settled on the red haired face of his 'father' James Potter, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Sirius Black, the flying professor.

"Calm down son! Just wanted to talk to you, nice and easy." The man's voice was slow as if he was speaking to a rabid beast, but Harry's right eyebrow merely twitched. Soon the rest of the King's men trickled outside, and with a single glance of dismissal from Harry, they went their own way, leaving him to meddle with his 'father' and his flying professor.

"You are not my father." Harry replied slowly, "What can I do for you, Professor Potter?" He asked coolly, at least trying to sound civil; for a moment, a look of hurt spanned across the man's face, albeit it did last only a second.

"Come on Prongs Juniors: you can't be angry at your dad for something Voldemort did!" Sirius exclaimed, "I mean, it wasn't his fault! You can't think he…"

"Sirius." James said seriously, "It's enough. Really. He's got all the right in the world to be angry."

"But…"

The red haired professor shook his head, before returning to the matter at hand.

"We would like to visit the chamber of secrets, Mr. Scamander," James began, "In case of illegal or dark objects, you must understand, the procedure requires for them to be taken care of and destroyed."

"Good luck with that." Harry snorted back. "Unless you speak my noble tongue, I doubt you'll get as far as the door, and that is if I deem it fun to see you try and open it."

"Harry. It's the law. You can't go above the law." Sirius began, "Really, I understand you think it's cool and all to have a secret hide-out, damn if I and Prongs didn't go to the Shrieking shack during the weekends to drink ourselves silly, but…"

"Private property is private property." Harry replied with his right hand raised. "Unless you hold proof that dark objects are in the chamber, you will have no warrant to look into it."

"It won't take much for the minister to come knocking Harry!" James yelled, "And then I doubt Fudge would even think of letting you keep them! They'll use Veritaserum on you and get the knowledge out! I'm just trying to protect you!"

Harry chuckled briefly. "Just like you did twelve years ago? Tell me…I still don't know where the hell were you when Voldemort came knocking."

James shuddered, before narrowing his eyes.

"Peter Pettigrew called me and Lily urgently to the Order of the Phoenix secret hideout, for a meeting with Albus Dumbledore. During that time…Voldemort attacked. By the time the wards went off, it was already too late. We came back to see a destroyed Wraith-Like Voldemort escaping and your sister with a scar on her hand…" The man whispered. "We don't know how Lillian did it, but she defeated Voldemort that night."

Harry would have wanted to blurt out how wrong the man was in that moment. He would have, if he hadn't just known that in doing so he'd subject himself to an inquisition worse than that of the Church during the witch hunts. Furthermore Dumbledore wouldn't hesitate, if he actually called out all the bluffs.

"And since then you just forgot I existed? Good to know you didn't think too hard about having two set of cribs I suppose or blue and pink clothes of the sort." Harry rolled his eyes, "let the minister come and knock. I will meet them with absolutely nothing. If they seek something, they'll have to fight for it…and I can guarantee you: they won't like it one bit." He smiled, slowly and pretty much sadistically, before turning to leave.

"Power's going to your head!" James yelled at him, "Harry, please, don't do this!"

But Harry kept his march. He wouldn't have much bothered letting the ministry in even then, since the chamber was devoid of everything when in her 'dormant' state, but he first had to get Heather out of there. If he could get her in the Forbidden Forest, and let her keep the ear plugs…then maybe he could get a portkey out of there? Or maybe…

He could ask Severus to teleport the basilisk some place safe. Maybe in the same place he was meant to go at the end of the year. That could work.

He smiled to himself, nothing was lost.

*Neville Longbottom*

He had to write to his grandmother urgently. He had to try and get someone from the ministry to Hogwarts fast enough to stop this. He didn't know why he had befriended Harry Scamander, but now he held doubts he even wanted to be in the same room as him. That speech had been all that a Dark Lord would aspire to claim. That way he had spoken easily of overturning a government, of destroying traditions in a fell sweep and wipe all out.

He had never known how scary the power of words could be, because for a single moment, he had relished in the thought of seeing the ministry burn. Then he had remembered his parents, who had practically died after suffering for the only purpose of protecting him from the madness that was Bellatrix Scamander and the Death Eaters with her.

He only had to remember the screams, to realize that the words that Harry spoke were filled with blood, dread, and childish dreams. The worrisome thing was that, for all that his instinct said…it could pretty much come to pass.

Harry was powerful, and he felt it. Harry spoke and people listened, not just walked around or feigned it, but truly listened to him. His eyes glowed with power and his every act seemed staged to perfection. The scribbled letter held all that he wanted his grandmother, Augusta, to know. Practically running, he began his mad dash upwards, to deliver the letter to a school owl. Along the way, another Hufflepuff stopped him for a brief second.

"Neville, have you seen Ernie? We had to study together this afternoon." Susan Bones asked to him, but he merely blurted out a 'No' before continuing his run. He had to be quick.

The clock was ticking.

He didn't know what clock was ticking or even if a clock was ticking, but he knew he was on borrowed time. Just like the rest of the school.

Author's notes

Another chapter's rolled by.

Harry revealed too much in the previous chapter, (Problems of youth, too open-mouthed) and thus he will reap the consequences in the chapters to come. Yes, we can't have a 'boring' 'Ultra-perfect Dark Lord' from second year onward. Things need time.

Like the Basilisk's familiar bond or the Wand or other reveals and so on.