AN: Hey everyone! It's been a minute since I've posted a chapter, but it's Christmas Eve and this is the only present I've got for you. Hope everybody's having a good holiday season.
Slight change to Chamber of Secrets canon. After Harry and Ron rescued Ginny, they originally took her and Lockhart to McGonagall's office, where she was speaking to Dumbledore and the Weasley's, and Dumbledore just kind of takes over her office for a little bit to speak to Harry and then Lucius Malfoy. I don't really think this makes a lot of sense, so I just decided to relocate that meeting to Dumbledore's office. Sure, he got kicked out of the school, but the man's got style. If he did come back, why not have them all meet in his own office?
Who cares, it doesn't really make a difference anyway, just helps introductory flow in my fic.
My design of the CoS is a little bit of a mix between canon and film. I'm pretty positive the statue mentioned has more of Slytherin's full body in it in the book, whereas in the movie its just the big face. If I could draw it out I'd probably do it for you, but hopefully you get a good idea of its structure from my descriptions. After all I'm a fanfiction writer, not a fanart producer. I can't draw for shit.
Anyway, enjoy! (hopefully)
CH - Funérailles
July 17th, 1997, 1400 hours
Ron Weasley took in the familiar sight of imposing wings, furled high on the gargoyle that stood stoically in front of him. Perhaps referring to the statue as familiar was a bit much. Unlike Harry, who seemed to find himself in Dumbledore's presence yearly due to some horrible tragedy or another, Ron only ever remembered coming here once. It flashed through him as he faced the stone carving, a memory of little Ginny squeezing his arm in timid relief while he dragged an amnesiac Lockhart behind him, Spello-taped wand in hand. He doesn't know if this meeting only moments from now makes him more or less nervous than he had been years ago. A different Headmaster sat in the chair now. A dangerous one, to be sure, and certainly one that he had never been on good terms with. Even if the former Head of Slytherin was trustworthy, that did not erase the years - and events - between.
He chanced a quick glimpse out of the corner of his eye and saw that Harry's nerves weren't faring much better. It was Harry who had initially set up the meeting and insisted Ron come along. The annoyed redhead argued against it for no good reason except that he didn't want to see Snape at all, the slimy git.
He now gulped a nervous swallow, staring up at the gargoyle that blocked the winding staircase.
"D'you reckon we need the password?" Ron asks after a moment, not sure what else there is to say.
Harry just shrugs. "Didn't need one last time, I just screamed at it to move, but Snape might have just let me in. Or it knew I needed to go up there and have a conversation." He faced the gargoyle. "Er, could you open up? We sent a note to the Headmaster that we'd drop by for a chat."
For an awkward moment, Ron felt as though the blank eyes of the creature were scrutinizing the two of them, before it swung aside and revealed the staircase.
"Let's get on with it, then," Harry muttered. "Before I change my mind."
They made their way up, Ron leading with his taller form just slightly as they reached the top of the flight. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but the familiar drawl on the other side made him freeze mid-motion. "Come in."
Ron only shoots a quick look of apprehension before Harry reaches over his arm and swings the door open with a shrug.
"Potter, Weasley." Severus Snape's expression of annoyance flickers just slightly as he sets down a quill and sets aside a stack of parchment. Ron receives a quirked eyebrow from the man, and he knows he's far too tense. "I'd not expected you to arrive here so quickly after that...incident...at the Burrow, Mr. Weasley."
Ron just grunts his annoyance, even knowing that his anger at Snape is almost completely baseless now. That doesn't mean he isn't unsettled, or just plain-old pissed off. "Yeah, bet you heard all about it, Professor."
"Indeed, I'd heard the scared complaints resulting from your sister's little surprise." The normally sour face twitched and twisted his lips into a smirk, far more dangerous than any expression Ron had seen over the years. The young Weasley and consummate Gryffindor found himself wondering for a moment if acting a bully had truly given the man any joy, or whether the potions master was simply playing his part, drowning in bitterness while taking small bits of easy revenge wherever he could. 'Blimey, I don't even want to think about it.
"I don't think we came here to talk about that." Harry interrupted, looking at them both curiously. It was the longest conversation remotely resembling polite that the three had ever had with each other.
"We will discuss it nonetheless." said Snape sharply. "Because the vampire that supposedly turned Ginny Weasley somehow died in the attack, and there was simply not enough time for him to have turned her."
Ron spluttered, tongue half-frozen. "And that means what?"
"She should have died of blood loss," Snape snapped, his hair swinging forward. "Something very magically unusual happened to your sister, Weasley, and it would be prudent to figure out exactly what. Even the Dark Lord was interested on top of being furious when he heard the news. He'd been under the impression that the Order had killed the bloodsucker, but it's clear from the fragments of Death Eater memories that that did not happen."
"What the bloody hell does that even mean?" Ron barked, aware his ears were turning red. "You-Know-Who's asking after my sister?"
Snape rolled his eyes.
"For the last time. Listen. If you'd paid attention in my class last year, Weasley, you'd know that a vampire must drain every drop of blood from the victim in order to turn them into a vampire." The man sneered as he leaned back into the Headmaster's chair. "Contrary to whatever bedtime stories your idiot twin brothers scared you with, the process takes quite some time. Otherwise the victim dies a slow and agonizing death if the vampire does not close the wound. Young Miss Weasley is walking, talking, blood-sucking anomaly, and a very dangerous one. That she lives should not be possible at all, that she turned is even more ridiculous, and that the vampire died in the process makes it simply baffling. The Dark Lord believes knowledge is power. He will attempt to uncover the truth behind this, though that priority is not as urgent as finding and killing all of you. Keep note of it."
Ron stared at the man, struggling between the urges to punch the smug git in fury and run off panicking at the new knowledge. He finally settled on something easy. "I'll pass along the warning, much appreciated," he bit out tersely. Anxiety and confusion boiled in his chest, and he was well aware his ears were turning red. With tremendous effort, he bit his tongue. There was nothing good he could say, and Snape had told him inside information, even if it had been bad news. The older man just nodded as if he was pleased Ron had controlled his temper.
Bloody smarmy git.
"Now, I confess. I am curious as to why you are actually here." Snape folded his hands on the desk and stared them down. Ron just shrugged and glanced over at Harry. Er, nope. You talk now.
Harry looked uncomfortable for a moment, but shrugged in a mimicry, before pressing onwards.
"Few things, really. Ron and I have been doing some research and practice on defence. Professor Dumbledore's portrait had a few more obscure recommendations for general spellwork, but I wondered if you had any favorite books for advanced dueling. And maybe something else for tactics and fighting in groups." Snape's eyes seemed to gleam as his smirk only deepened.
Harry shrugged, looking irritated. "Yes, Professor, I am actually asking for a suggestion from you, of all people," he responded drolly to the man's look. Ron just gawked, but settled on a snort of amusement. Surprisingly, while grimacing a little bit, Snape didn't look too bothered by Harry's obvious cheek.
"Dumbledore kept a modified tactical manual for non-Auror members within the Order of the Phoenix written by Moody, I might be able to find a copy for you and send an elf to deliver it, along with a list of books you might be interested in." The professor gave them a pointed look. "I'll add a few books to the end of the list that should be considered more...dangerous, shall we say. A few might be available in the Restricted Section."
Ron stifled the urge to cry and cackle hysterically at the same time. A week ago, if anyone had told me that I would be sitting in the Headmaster's Office asking Snape for advice on dueling and Dark magic, I probably would have blasted out their teeth. The sheer look of discomfort on his friend's face told the redhead that he wasn't at all alone, yet Harry was still first to express his gratitude with a muttered "thanks Professor."
There was an awkward pause where Snape scrutinized them for several seconds, his black eyes glittering.
"Come now," he murmured, voice low and amused as the man propped up his head with one hand, in a gesture Ron could only describe oddly relaxed for such a usually bitter man. "Since you haven't yet left with haste, I presume there's more you intend to ask of me."
Harry turned to send him a pleading look, which Ron instantly understood.
"Uh, no way you wanker, you killed the ruddy thing so you get to ask about it." He vehemently denied trying to ask Snape about this of all things. In front of them, Snape's eyebrows were only rising higher.
"Right..." Harry turned back to the darkly amused Headmaster and took a deep inhale, before blurting it out in a single breath. "So whaddayouknowaboutbutcheringabasilisk?" Harry breathed out in a single breath. Ron sniggered as Snape's eyes widened in shock before narrowing.
"Say again, Potter?"
"What do you know about butchering a basilisk? Do you have any books or anything we can use to figure out how to dissect it into parts?"
Snape just frowned and stared, bemused.
July 17th, 1997, 1453 hours
It turned out Snape did not know how to dissect a basilisk into parts, no more than the next wizard did. In fact, the only people who could do so were goblins, and perhaps magi-zoologists. Goblin-crafted steel, it turned out, was one of very few metals capable of cutting through the thick hide of a basilisk or a dragon. Not only was it notoriously difficult to kill such beasts, but it was also a rare event. On slightly less rare occasions, basilisks could be ritually hatched with the toad and chicken egg method. Without a parselmouth to help it grow, however, records showed they did not grow after 15 years of age and were much smaller, less dangerous, and easier to farm. This was how most basilisk parts reached the market. That only made the parts from a full-grown adult much more valuable.
Therefore, the goblins generally accepted commissions to slaughter and butcher XXXXX class beasts whose corpses required special handling. Yet it was not possible to trust the shrewd gold-mongers at this point - Snape had told them explicitly that there were goblin spies in Gringotts, and officials would not agree to secrecy for creature processing contracts. In short, they would have to do it themselves, from scratch, with very few instructions. Disgusting.
"There may be literature on the subject from research zoologists." Snape had said. Newt Scamander was the last recorded person to see and take apart a dead basilisk in the wild, somewhere in the Amazon jungle nearly 40 years ago, and had catalogued its remains as thoroughly as possible. Snape had impressed on the importance of protection, showing them Scamander's written complaints about how all his gloves had melted except the ones made of triple-layered scales of a Swedish short-snout.
The anatomical diagram drawn up by the famous wizard was incredibly thorough. Ron figured that if Harry could find a goblin-steel blade in No. 12 Grimmauld Place, they'd be all set and ready to go. Harry was less sure, uneasily explaining that they would have to remove all the fangs and drain out its venom sacs before they would go near it with the blades. Otherwise the goblin metal would end up absorbing the venom, and even a tiny cut would be enough to kill them. Ron was more than aware of how dangerous that would become, and promised to not jump ahead.
Still, he'd never seen the snake, only heard about it in the nightmares Ginny had detailed to him on rare occasions. It would be a sight to see, certainly. The Chamber itself may have been a place for slimy snakes, but he would like to explore it. Gryffindors charge in, after all.
Harry never spoke of the beast, only saying it was "ruddy massive," and getting a faraway look in his eye while he stared off into space. Ron suspected that though the snake had brought Harry face-to-face with his own mortality, the boy-who-lived had been far more unsettled by the shade of Tom Riddle, the thing which they now knew was a piece of the Dark Lord's soul.
Ron zoned back into the muttered conversation that Hermione was having with herself as she bent over said diagram, eyes flicking over details while she scribbled with a Self-Inking quill.
"Erm...Hermione?" She didn't so much as twitch, obviously not noticing him at all. With a sigh, he plucked the quill out of her hand with nimble fingers. Dancing a few steps back, he laughed as she jumped up and stared at him with a poisonous glare.
"We'll have plenty of time to study it later," he reminded her. "Especially since the bloody thing is dead and isn't going anywhere. One thing at a time, y'know? We have to actually go down there first and clear it out."
It took at least five seconds before the literally glowing annoyance dimmed away from Hermione's purple eyes, and she let out a sigh of exasperation. It still took him quite a bit of getting used to, and he tried not to freeze in mild panic whenever that happened. "Fine," she groaned with a huff. She looked over his shoulder, and tossed another glare. Ron turned to see Harry sniggering behind him.
"Stuff it, prat," she grumbled, pointing a thumb toward the Slytherin corner, where two heads peered into a cauldron. "Go help Ginny and Neville wrap up, they're stewing lacewing flies for a batch of Polyjuice. I'll go find Luna. She went down to see if Pince had a separate library catalogue for the Restricted Section. I won't be long."
And with that, she whirled away, moving briskly toward the door.
As Ron fell back into a couch, he realized how uneasy he was. The last time he'd gone down into the Chamber of Secrets he'd been terrified, much more so than when he was attempting to dismantle the traps protecting the Sorcerer's Stone the year before. Having Lockhart around gave him something to focus his anger on, but he'd been there alone for hours stewing in his thoughts, shoveling aside rocks and rubble. He'd spent that time stewing in his panic, huffing out his frustration and helplessness as he dug. When Harry and Ginny came back splattered with slime and gore, he knew that he'd been right to worry, even if he'd been thoroughly relieved. Now I'm heading down there again.
"So, we're really doing this again, huh," he muttered, looking over. "D'you want to tell Ginny we're going now, or should I?" Harry was sitting on the arm of a chair, shoulders slumped and staring out the large stained-glass windows with a vacant expression. He seemed to jolt out of his thoughts at the words. Shrugging, he turned to stare at Ginny's red hair as she stirred the cauldron.
"This is...personal for us. I think it's something I should do." Green eyes looked at him pleadingly, asking his permission, and Ron could only nod his head in understanding. I saw what it did to her afterward in her nightmares. I was there, Harry. I should have been better...should've taken Lockhart's wand and blasted a hole and followed right after so you weren't in there alone against those monsters. I should have been there with you both.
But he doesn't say it aloud, just nods as Harry takes a deep breath and stalks over to the corner. Neville stands up and reads the look on Harry's face. A few muttered words and a look of comprehension later, he walks over toward Ron as Harry sits down beside a now tense-looking Ginny.
Neville plops himself down across from where he's seated with a grimace. "I never thought there'd be a day where I'd be going down into the actual Chamber of Secrets."
He just snorted, unable to help himself. "I didn't even go in proper and it still scared the bloody hell out of me. At least this time we can all see what that snake looks like dead and cut it to bits. For closure."
"Does Hermione remember seeing it? In her mirror?"
He froze at Neville's question and turned to meet his eyes slowly. "You know, she must remember something." He swallowed. "Myrtle said she saw eyes before she died. I've never - I can't believe I've never thought-"
"Harry got it in the end," reassured Neville. The blonde Gryffindor looked a bit nervous that he'd spoiled the mood so fast. "We'll all be there."
Right, right...Ron can only nod weakly.
Harry and Ginny are walking back together as he looks up. His sister is even more pallid than usual and completely stone-faced, but there's none of the panic he remembered the summer after her second year. That's good. She looks tense and uncomfortable, but she's alright for now. He gives her a small nod of confidence. Her posture relaxes a little. So far so good.
"Where's Hermione?" she asks.
"Gone to get Luna from the library. They'll be back any minute."
Neville scrutinizes Harry's dark expression and Ginny attempting to present solid front. Obviously it's barely working. "You two okay with this?"
Harry just shrugs. To him, this is a trip down memory lane to another time he almost died. Ginny looks lost and confused at Neville's question, and nervous.
"No," she says bluntly, a single fang poking out as she purses her lips. "But I won't ever be, really, if I don't go."
"You've all got a broom?" All heads turn and nod, and Ron pats the shrunken broom in his pocket as Luna's voice floats from the front doorway of the Room. The blonde beamed from the doorway, spinning on her toes. "I guess that means we're all ready then. What are we waiting for?"
Luna Lovegood thinks that the walk toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom feels an awful lot like a death procession - or is it called a funeral march? They walk in a stilted formation that makes a sad amount of sense. Harry and Ron lead at the front, their wands held in hand in a mockery of relaxation, and their steps are tense and purposeful. Ginny is unusually timid and hovers just a step behind Harry and her brother, looking a bit too much like the little girl she had been as a first year, clenched in Tom Riddle's fist of soul compulsion. Hermione is there next to her, and Luna sees the wavy-haired girl take Ginny's hand and give her a brief squeeze of reassurance.
Harry and Ron stood at the front like guards, though they too needed to confront their memories and fears. Ginny was the victim and needed that layer of protection, the knowledge that she had company and friendship surrounding her. Hermione was the empathy, for she too had been attacked and needed closure, no matter how much she denied or ignored it.
Lastly are herself and Neville, bringing up the rear. They were the least affected by all of this, though Luna had noticed something wrong about the Nargles and Wrackspurts that had been in her first-ever bestfriend's head that year. No matter, Ginny had relieved her of that guilt when they had reconciled, the summer after. Still, Luna promised herself that she would never forget to trust her instincts like that, ever again. They had not let her down since.
Onward they went, marching forward to an invisible rhythm of Fate. She strained for a moment, stretching her magic backwards, into her own mind. It was an incredibly odd sensation. She'd done it instinctively before as a younger girl, when she was worried or upset, and Seen little flashes of things yet to come. She didn't know it at the time. Whatever had happened in that old house over her father's cooling corpse had...awakened something in her, for lack of a better phrase. Not like drowning in Wrackspurts - which transmitted from other people and the air - but a part of her own mind that she hadn't known about. Like diving into a dark, endless ocean, and reaching into it blindly to see what she could find. Going to Gringotts had only shown proof that her newfound "third-eye" was part of the fae blood-traits she had received. I'm glad it wasn't a real third eye on my forehead. That would be utterly repulsive.
Luna already knew instinctively that it came from her mother. There had been something too beautiful about her, too ethereal. Perhaps it was the bias of hindsight and the wistful memory of long ago, or perhaps it was true. Either way, she hadn't told the others. Telling them about the faery in her veins was enough. If she leaked out the rest, Hermione would stare at her skeptically before scouring dusty old tomes and asking her to use her magic to "experiment." Ron would scoff and roll his eyes, but hide his worry on the inside. Harry - and Neville too - had a bad history with seers and prophecy, even if they hadn't always known it. She wouldn't drop that burden on them. Ginny might understand, so she'd be the first to know. Later, of course. When she felt ready, more certain of what to do with her power, then it would be time.
She dropped her thoughts and focused back, feeling a pressure building up around the center of her forehead. Something snaps into place sharply, an inaudible and invisible thrum of magic resonating as her eyes close and her body seems to float on itself. Then finally, she Sees something...
Snakes slithering backwards into stone
Emerald gems...gleaming eyes
Screams and yells
Blood and brimstone and the musk of scales
White clawed hands and
A wave of ice-cold water
She can't
breathe-
Luna's footsteps faltered and upon opening her eyes, was greeted by Neville's startled look from her side. She kept on walking, trying to look reassuring. The frown on his face tells her it doesn't really work. His Wrackspurts are in a bit of a frenzy.
Whoops. Oh well, too late.
Her contrition becomes grim, and she hopes dearly that it doesn't show on her face.
This is not going to go as easily as we think...
She drew her wand and kept it loosely by her side. Whatever these visions are, they aren't enough to see anything solid about the future, but they are warnings that have not yet been wrong. There is danger at the end of the path.
When Harry suddenly stopped dead in the hallway, Ginny almost ran into him. Stumbling, she caught herself before anyone moved to steady her, waving them off.
"Sorry, Ginny," his eyes flickered sheepishly for a second as he looked over them all, before dimming in anxiety. His voice was tinged with grim amusement. "This is it...better not have any second thoughts."
The second floor girl's bathroom was still the same as it'd always been. Worn down stalls, scruffy and even cracked tiles and mirrors, and sinks that hadn't been used in ages. Moaning Myrtle herself was nowhere to be found. Luna wasn't too unfamiliar with the bathroom - it was a nice place to be alone away from the teasing 'Claws when Myrtle was off crying elsewhere in the castle. Hearing Harry explain yesterday that this room had been the entrance to Slytherin's chamber was, therefore, a bit of a shock.
She raised an eyebrow as Harry leaned in very close, seemingly inspecting the old faucets, his black hair nearly touching the old porcelain sinks. After walking around he pauses, still bent forward, and opens his mouth in a short, sharp hiss as his tongue seems to flicker from his mouth.
There's a heavy groan of noise, like gears of stone. The sink slowly begins to rotate, coming apart into six large sections and spiralling into the floor. A very wide tunnel sits before them, constructed entirely of dark stones. Very impressive, Luna is forced to admit. There's no evidence that the sink had been there at all.
"So," Ron piped up, conversationally. "Who's jumping first?"
"I thought you were bloody joking when you said it was a giant pipe slide!" Hermione groaned, aghast. "How did you even know it was safe?"
"Told you, didn't I? We shoved in Lockhart first and waited to hear if he screamed."
Neville snorts and Luna giggles at the scandalized expression on Hermione's face.
"There was nothing down there except muck and bones last time, so just keep wands out and move out of the way when you land." Harry says, calmly. Hermione frowned.
"Harry...this was designed by Salazar Slytherin. Do you honestly think the wizard remembered as a blood-purist and a powerful Lord used a slide to get into his super-secret Chamber with his most valuable pet? Have you tried asking for stairs or something?"
Harry gawped at her, and Ron roared with laughter. "She's bloody right, mate."
He turned back to the large, glaring-wide pipe below and closed his eyes, and hissed again, out loud.
Luna found herself humming with the tone. Parseltongue is strangely musical.
Unfortunately, nothing happened.
"You're definitely right, Hermione, but it didn't work. That means there's probably another entrance somewhere, probably a way in, that no one has found yet." Harry laughed, beaming at the new idea. "We'll have to look for it later, but right now let's just get down in there."
"I'll go first." Ron volunteered. Harry looked carefully at him, then nods, rolling his eyes . Ron just grinned, sitting down on the ledge before shoving off with his hands, like a boy sliding into a pool. Except, of course, that he's falling into a long tunnel of seemingly endless darkness instead. Oh dear, morbid.
One by one they jump in, disappearing from sight. Hermione went next, cleverly casting an Impervious on her robes before she fell with a yelp of terror. Neville next, and then it's her own turn. She smiled as she kicked her legs idly off the edge.
"Here I go," Luna heard herself whisper.
And she did.
The tunnel had definitely not been clean in centuries. The wind whooshing past her face smelled like dead snake-skin and the slight scent of rotting meat and bones. Her father was an expert on creatures after all, and she remembered how a snake smells. In the darkness several flashes of different tunnel branches blurred past her before she could focus on them, and the tunnel continued to bring her down, further and further beneath the castle. She grumbled slightly as one wild turn bumped her against the walls, hearing the thumps of either Harry or Ginny sliding down behind her. In front of her, Neville's yelp floats through her ears.
About 20 seconds later, her body is thrown out into the open, and she's gasping as her arse slams into the slimy floor with a squeaky "oof!" of jolted surprise and pain. She landed mere feet from Neville, who was already moving and grabbing her arm to pull her straight up onto her feet. She smiles and gives him a hug which he returns weakly, turning a little red in the face.
She looked over to where Hermione was disgustedly waving her wand over Ron, repeatedly using tergeo and scourgify as slime and muck was siphoned off the boy's shirt and jeans.
"...hells, 'Mione, I'll get them cleaned off later, alright?"
He's interrupted a moment later as Ginny flew into the room, somehow catching her balance on one knee and one hand, skidding to a slimy halt. She looked around the small dark hallway, eyes both curious and filled with familiar fear as she took deep breaths.
Luna took the chance to join her friend and hold her hand, then looked down at where they'd found themselves.
The hallway was dim, murky, and wet. The full scale of the smell hit her first. It was not completely dark - by some eerie magic, every part of the hall was dimly lit, as if illuminated from a full moon that shined through the solid stones. Slimy water ran slowly along the edges, and she could see hints white scattered all across the floor, of dozens or hundreds of strewn bones from creatures big and small alike.
Harry came hurtling out of the dark tube with a yelp of adrenaline, landing in their midst with a soft thump. With a groan, he pushed himself to his knees, and then his feet. "I've done that twice and I can't decide if I love or hate it," he said dryly, looking around. "All good?"
"This place really is disgusting." Luna is, in fact, most intrigued by the mosaic of bones splattered haphazardly across the floor. She bends over to peer at one skull that looks like a rather large rat. "Did the basilisk eat all of these? Some of them are quite small."
Ron looked a bit sick. "They might've just crawled down here on accident and died, to be honest." He muttered a "lumos," and light flared across the tunnel from the tip of his wand, revealing enough that they could finally see down the expanse of the Chamber's halls. He seemed to concentrate a moment, and the light beam grew brighter, showing they had quite a walk before the path seemed to end in a sharp right turn.
He started to step forward when Hermione grabbed his wrist.
"We don't know if there are any traps, Ron."
"Oh, Merlin's sake Hermione, we've literally been here as 12-year-olds," he griped, but rummaged through his pockets anyway. "Plus, Harry opened the tunnel with Parseltongue, there won't be any intent-wards here that we wouldn't have known about."
"He does have a point," Luna said quietly. Hermione turned to her with a cocked eyebrow. "Besides the basilisk itself, there was nothing valuable about the stuff Harry found in the Chamber last time. If there is anything valuable, that's what the traps will be protecting, not the entrance to the creature itself."
Begrudgingly, Hermione agreed with a sigh. "I just wanted to try out a spell," she grumbled. Neville let out an undignified snort, but said nothing to avoid igniting their resident bookworm's wrath.
They stalked forward, footsteps echoing against wet stone like strange high-pitched drums. Around the corner Ron swept the beam of light from his wand and frowned. Dead ahead of them was a small mountain of rubble, large stone bricks strewn about and broken in a large pile. The lumos spell showed a hole near the top of the pile, barely large enough for a skinny child to fit to fit through .
"Damn, mate, I thought you dug out more than that." Harry bemoaned. Ron shot him a glare.
"I've already said it, haven't I? We were 12, practically midgets. Plus those bricks are bloody heavy, whatever they are, and I didn't exactly have a wand, and Lockhart was no help."
"Is this where Lockhart tried to obliviate you?" Neville stares at the mountain of debris in amusement.
"Courtesy of my old broken wand." Ron's face was dark with his annoyance as Hermione giggled. "I had to drag his dumb arse to the side and watch while he sat there and tried to regain his memories. Poncy git. And don't you laugh either," he says, looking pointedly at Hermione. "You still had that stupid schedule with hearts on our DADA classes."
Hermione flushed, but snorted at her previous shortsightedness. "For the third time, Ron, we were 12."
"Always turning my words back at me."
"Anyway, if reparo won't work, then how are we going to dig this up? Levitation charms will take forever and if the bricks are magic resistant we'll be exhausted. If we use our hands, we'll be exhausted."
Harry's face lit up. "Dobby!"
CRACK
"Harry Potter, sir! What can Dobby be's doing..." The usually jubilant elf is caught off guard by their macabre surroundings, and Luna finds herself barely holding back a giggle at Dobby's rather interested and confused wide eyes as he looks around in the tunnel.
"Um, Harry Potter, sir, where are we being?" He glanced up at Harry in a quiet whisper.
"Remember when you tried to save my life from the Chamber of Secrets?"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir."
"Er...This is the Chamber of Secrets."
Dobby's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets and start tap-dancing on the floor. He let out a squeak and clapped his hands over his mouth.
"Big snake monster is dead, Harry Potter. What needs be done down here?"
"Er, well, see that part of the tunnel that collapsed?" Harry points. "We need to get through so we take apart the basilisk's corpse, and explore the chamber so we can beat Voldemort, but human magic doesn't seem to work on it well. Would it be any trouble to ask you to fix it for us?"
Dobby just gave him an entirely-too-cheeky-grin and snapped his fingers, turning to stare at the rubble intently. With a grinding rumble the rocks began to rise, slowly fitting themselves back into place along the walls and the ceiling. They fixed themselves perfectly, reminding Harry momentarily of when Dumbledore and Slughorn had done something similar a year ago. He made a mental note to look it up.
"Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter sir!" The elf clapped his hands and popped away with the ear-to-ear smile on his face.
"Merlin's balls," Neville muttered. "What is up with that e-lf." He stuttered as Hermione glared at him. "Oh come of it, you know I'm right."
Luna stifled a laugh as they kept on moving.
It felt as though they were walking for ages. She was almost convinced that these tunnels would never end as they twisted and turned left and right. If she hadn't known that Harry had been down this way before, she'd have been terrified. Another right turn, and Harry finally spoke and broke their silence. "Another turn, and we'll be at the door." His face is tight and grim, and a collective shudder seems to roll down all of their backs. It's coming, she thinks to herself, queasy for a different reason than Harry and Ginny were. Soon. If only I could See what is coming. Stupid third-eye, even more annoying than a Nargle.
Nervous anticipation makes the walk go by faster. They slow to a stop in front of a wall with a large, circular doorway right in the center. Two large metal snakes were entwined around each other to decorate its surface, appearing so realistic she could've sworn they slithered against each other. Like the caduceus of Hermes, she can't help but think. Their eyes glowed in the low light, made of shining gemstones of jade or perhaps emerald. Harry opens his mouth to speak the password in Parseltongue, but Hermione cuts him off.
"You came down here last time to save an innocent," she said bluntly, her glinting purple eyes staring him down. Ginny flinches to his side, but looks mollified by the choice of words. "This time, we've come to plunder. If that's not a difference in intent, nothing is. Let me check at least check for trap runes or wards."
He acquiesces with a wince, motioning her forward. She draws a small corked bottle of black liquid from her robes and shakes it wildly for a second before popping off the cork it, handing it to Ron. He clasped it gingerly with two fingers.
"Er...what is that?" asked Ron, peering at the black stain on the bottom of the cork.
"Activated charcoal made of powdered pixie bones and mixed with squid ink," Hermione lectured absently, rummaging for and drawing her wand. Ron blanched and held the cork as far away from his face as possible.
Luna watched her gingerly dip the wood of her wand just barely inside the top of the jar, before drawing it out and waving it lightly to remove an excess drop. She pauses for a moment, wand in the air, tip painted black like a pen poised above paper. She began to draw in Elder Futhark, and whisper.
"Peorð... Ōþalan... Nauðr..."
The others stare in awe and confusion as she drew mid-air, and the inked tip of her wand was lit up with light. The three runes leave a glowing afterimage of faint purple in the path her wand has traveled, forming the three angular letters burned into the air. It takes power and control to draw them out like that. Luna has taken Ancient Runes, unlike the others. The detection Hermione cast was simple and blunt, but powerful. The runes themselves acted as an additional boost to illuminate the rune sequences. If she had drawn them out on a piece of paper or stone, it would not be nearly as effective as this. She could have cast a single detection spell instead, like just patefacio without the runes, or the simpler cousins revelio or aparecium, but neither of them would have shown the signatures of the magic being revealed. It was precise work.
Suddenly Hermione stopped, and stabbed her wand forward with a sharp incantation.
"Patefacio."
All three runes blazed with light and drove forward, disappearing into the wall. For a split-second, nothing happened, before hidden runes in the doorway begin to blaze with light. A circle of small white letters surrounded the entire circumference of the doorway. Along the bodies of the metal snakes, chains of runes form ironically snakelike lines along the spines of the decorative creatures, wrapping around each other in a strangely beautiful pattern. Hermione grabbed the cork from between Ron's limp fingers closed the bottle. The guy was far too busy gaping at the magical runes drawn into the wall before him.
"Luna could you help me out and read over the circle on the edge? I'll cover the snakes, and we'll get this done faster."
She nodded with a grin and joined her bushy haired friend, beginning to read over the ancient letters, drawing close but careful not to touch the incandescent imprints.
Blessings of protection, strength, unbreakability, and power. Is that a rune of recognition? Hmmm...an activation too. It takes her a few minutes to scrutinize all of it. She realized after a moment that not all of it is in Elder Futhark, which is surprising. She hadn't known that English wizards had used other runes at the time of the Founders, though it does make sense. The curious bit is that normally different languages don't mix well together, but Salazar Slytherin had somehow chained at least three together, and very expertly. One of them looked almost Greek, but off by several letters. Likely an ancient dialect. It was mildly decipherable, at least. The other...that was a different story. It was full of squiggles and curved shapes, completely unlike any alphabet system she'd ever seen. And she swore that every time she glanced at a different rune and back, the shape was no longer the same, as if the letters were shifting dynamically. Her eyes widened the longer she looked.
"I-I think I know what this means?" she stammered out, asking more than responding. She takes a step back, almost stumbling over her own feet as she began to reach a conclusion. "Hermione, you're seeing those runes, right?
"Yes." Her voice is distant and awed even though she stands right next to her friend. "They're bloody moving!"
"The door's safe." Luna mumbled, still staring at the letters, flicking her glance back every so often at the doorway. "It just has unbreakable protections, and if you try to break in it has some sort of security system that blocks the door completely."
"The security's the snakes," Hermione continues, nodding as she finally wrenches her gaze from the runes. "They listen to and interpret the parseltongue password. Or instead, they grow and cover the doorway and add an extra layer of protection, like a blast shield."
"Ok, but what has both of you so freaked out?" asks Neville behind them, his voice a little higher pitched and definitely confused.
"Look at this rune." Hermione says, her voice aroused in peak excitement, pointing with the tip of her finger. "It's not in any language I recognize. And if you look away and look back at the same rune, it changes shape! I've never heard of anything like that, ever!"
The others, except a nervous-looking Ginny, gawk after a moment, discovering that the two witches were not, in fact, mad. Harry though rubs his eyes through his glasses, staring at the tip of Hermione's finger with a frown.
"Um, Hermione, it just says §open§"
Hermione shrieks glee and Luna feels her mouth drop into an 'O' of surprise as they turn to look at Harry, ignoring the grinding of the stone doors.
"Are you telling me that's runic Parseltongue!?"
Ron gasps and Ginny lets out a little shriek of horror. Neville's face instantly drains of color and Harry just looks grim.
None of them are looking at Hermione or herself, but past them. Slowly, the girls glanced at each other before turning in unison.
Luna couldn't help it, and let out a little oh! of shock.
That thing is fucking colossal.
The carcass is the first thing any of them see. Even from a distance, it is incomparable to any creature she'd ever laid eyes upon, except maybe the mother dragons from the Triwizard Tournament. Its mouth is slightly open, revealing a jaw filled with razor sharp fangs that seem more fitting on a shark than on the king of snakes. A pool of dried black blood sits underneath it. Massive golden eyes nearly the size of her head are torn and shredded open, giving off an eerie appearance like it had been weeping as it died. The diameter of the creature is as thick as a hundred-year-old tree, laid out at least 50 feet long, with the remaining torso and tail curled up like it had just lunged.
Neville squeaked out first. "You killed that bloody thing with a sword!?" Hermione was taking deep gasping breaths as she stared at it, eyes wide.
"It got me too. I was lucky Fawkes stuck around," Harry responded shortly, his eyes fixed on the beast. He stepped forward into the room first, and they followed him jerkily. Ron jogged up to the creature and circled around the head, fixedly glaring at the monster as he did.
"Harry," he said, weakly, "I'm fully convinced you're utterly insane. Even if you did save my sister."
Luna allowed her eyes to roam even as she nodded to agree with Ron. The six of them stood at one end of a very long chamber, flooded with a dim green glow. The ceiling was high enough that it was impossible to make out in the shadows. Sculptures of coiled stone snakes lined the walkway, complemented by small reservoirs of dark water between them. Tall pillars gave the room a since of finality, or strength and structure. They lined the hall, until reaching the end, where the giant statue of an ancient face stood before them, it's mouth opened in an angry "Oh" expression.
Hermione was the first to wrench her eyes away and walk around the massive room. They all explored, looking around at the carvings on the walls and the statues in the floor. Finally Luna noticed that Hermione had stopped at the humungous statue at the far end of the room. Her friend had frowned glancing at it, before looking down as her eyes widened.
"Guys, we can look at the carcass later. There are runes here, carved beneath the statue."
As they hurried over to take a look, sure enough, there they were. A large rectangular plate, wider than tall, underneath the face of Salazar Slytherin. Harry's eyes flickered in surprise.
"I knew I didn't notice everything down here. Can you read what it says?"
Hermione nodded and began to read, muttering to herself intermittently. "It's all in Futhark," she said. "I can read most of it fluently. It says something like 'only a snake-speaker whose power is worthy of my heritage will open this vault. In order to prove yourself, activate my words with the spell in their tongue.'" She glances at Harry. "I think it wants you to mimic the activation spell I cast, in Parseltongue."
He blanched. "I can't draw runes," he argues. Luna shakes her head.
"Hermione just means the spell she cast after, Patefacio." Is this the moment where things start going wrong? She's tense as she speaks to Harry. "Do you think you can say it in parseltongue? The movement is an easy stab forward. It's a really simple spell, just push a bit of your magic into it."
He nods tightly and mutters the word, wincing at unfamiliar Latin. Looking behind him, he focuses on the snake, but this time his voice is a low and resounding hiss. He repeats it twice more. Finally he's pulling his wand, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"§Patefacio§"
The runes on the stone stele flare a bright green for a moment before fading away. One by one, more runes appear, where before there had been none. Hermione takes in a deep breath and begins to read.
"Your magic proves that you speak the noble tongue. Now prove your might and force of will, and you will be granted entrance." She frowns, looking a little lower. "Are those recognition runes? Why are there eleven of them chained in a sensory array at the bottom here?"
Then the floor beneath them rumbled, just slightly. In an instant, every wand snapped into their fists. Luna swears to herself under her breath, looking up at the statue. Curiously enough, there's no change to the room that she can see. Was I wrong? Or is this what I saw? I should have told them...I could have warned them of something...
It's so quiet in the room that she didn't dare to breathe.
Before she can relax, a low hissssss, begins to sound, long and drawn out.
"I thought you said any snakes wouldn't hatch!" Ron half-whispers and half-yells, throwing a horrified look at Hermione. The brunette is just as tense and confused, her eyes glancing around wildly as her body seems to crackle with chaotic magic.
"I don't kno-"
Neville practically whimpers, his wand pointing behind them. "That's not a bleedin' snake!"
Luna's heart pounded as the thing came into view, stalking around the edge of the dead basilisk's mouth, claws dragging against the stone with long scrapes.
Bone white from head to toe and taller than an average human, it was completely hairless and so thin it looked sickly. Somehow its body was still covered in thin muscles that stood out in tense cords. It stared at them standing at the front of the Chamber, tensed in horrific silence.
For a moment's glimpse, it was reminiscent of Voldemort, but the similarities ended with the slitted nose. Scales covered the creature completely, and its hands and feet were complete with curved black talons that scrrrratched against the stone as it walked. A thick rudderlike tail swished behind and dragged along the ground. Lifeless eyes glared at them with inhuman hatred. The head was crested much like the basilisk itself, bald and rounded without ears. The mouth made her shudder, filled with sharp fangs beneath an elongated snout, looking like a snake mixed with a crocodile and a wolf. A tongue flickered out, tasting the air, and its maw stretched wider in grotesque mockery of a smile. A curved sword gleamed as it slowly was raised high above its head in silent declaration of war.
More hisses resounded throughout the room and Luna found herself taking a step back in dread. Slowly, more shapes moved out from the shadows of the massive chamber, claws scratching against the stone. Dark snake-like voices sounded harmoniously in a monstrous lullaby that echoed around the room like a trembling orchestra of decay.
Harry growls under his breath, his wand pointed and shivering just slightly.
"This was a really bad idea."
AN: In the words of a certain Jedi Knight, this is where the fun begins. Don't hate the cliff-hanger folks, a rather long two-part fight scene will be coming in Ch 12.
The runes Hermione uses are real Elder Futhark, by the way. I tried to use their meaning as intended, but when I do so again in the future it might not be so strict.
Also note on Neville. He was super-brave against Voldemort, but took a huge blow to his confidence by losing his grandmother right in front of him and being utterly powerless to do anything about it. He hasn't lost his skill and become a coward, but it'll take him time for him to feel stable and strong again. This fight will help him regain some of that as well, though he won't be running at 100%. Also there's some stuff going on with him that we don't understand, because we don't know enough just yet.
New spells:
Patefacio - Spell designed to reveal (and occasionally activate) an inscribed runic sequence. Does not activate every kind of rune chain, but rather is used as a stepping stone between them, or to reveal hidden wards, traps, curses, or other rune markings. Wand movement requires a simple forward stab during the incantation.
.
.