AN: ...Beginning? Perhaps. Perhapsn't. Only this chapter will tell. Also, I started using line breaks this chapter, so good job convincing me. I guess it's just another literary device.
Time: Next Year, Rose's Second, Violet's Fifth
"Alright, so... what happened exactly?" James asked for the second time, his eyes revealing his confusion. His brown hair was messy, as if he had just gotten out of bed, but that was nothing new. He messed it up even more as he ran his hand through his hair, stressed out over the new drama going on in the British Wizarding World, with rumours of the Chamber of Secrets having been opened again. He needed more information if he was going to get anywhere with this investigation handed to him as Head Auror, and what better source than someone who had been only a few feet away from the initial incident?
"Honestly? I have no idea." Violet responded, lazily flinging her bag onto the table as she plopped her butt into a chair, yawning as if she hadn't just had a close brush with possible death. Honestly, after coming face to face with the Stalker himself, and after they started learning from his surprisingly entertaining, and quite enlightening books, (after Dumbledore had checked them once over, of course) few things managed to faze them. "Everything was just fine yesterday, then suddenly, it wasn't, and now we are here. The only thing I'm sad about is that I missed three hours of sleep."
She blinked her eyes blearily, still slightly heavy after the inadequate nap she had taken while on the Hogwarts Express, homebound. Her little sister's ceaseless chatter had not helped.
Rose was usually shy and timid, but once she opened up, she could be an incorrigible chatterbox, completely ignoring the concept of peaceful silence.
"Yeah, so what does that mean?" Sirius asked, equally puzzled as his best friend and brother in all but blood, after all, it wasn't a regular occurrence that Hogwarts was shut down for an unknown amount of time. In fact, it had never occurred in living history, prior to this. "It must be a really desperate situation for Dumbledore to take this decision. The Hogwarts Board of Governors, led by Lucius Malfoy, of course," Sirius spat at that, "were insistent that school should continue uninterrupted. There was a big row, as well, but ultimately, Dumbledore managed to come out on top and shut it down. Something about the Chamber of Secrets. We were there, it almost came to wands, we had to intervene. Lucius looked like he was about to burst a vein."
"Yeah! Even the Minister had to get involved! It was only Amelia reminding them all that most of their children were in Hogwarts and in danger of whatever was lurking in the halls, that managed to sway them in favour of shutting down the school until the issue is resolved." James added, his eyebrows creased in worry.
Lyra rolled her eyes at him as Violet huffed childishly, laying her head on the table to try and get some precious shut-eye, ignoring the fact that she had yet to change, or that the table's wooden surface was cold and hard. The Black daughter eyed her for a few moments, before she wandlessly summoned Violet's bag to her. She could do bits of wandless magic, light spells and the like, and it had all been courtesy of The Interactive Master's Guide to Wandless Magic, which had been gifted to Daphne. They had followed his advice, partially out of fear of what he might do if they didn't, and partially because they really wanted to polish their magic all around, as he intended.
The Stalker might have been one sick bastard, but whatever he was doing, it was clearly improving their hold on magic, and more importantly, it wasn't dangerous, nor affected them in any negative way, so you couldn't hear any complaints from Lyra. Like a true Slytherin, if there was one thing she had in spades, it was ambition, so she wasn't going to refuse any help in getting better, even if it came from the psycho, most wanted murderer in Europe.
Shaking her head slightly to clear herself of such thoughts, Lyra muttered softly, not bothering to get herself heard over the others. "I'm gonna follow Rose and take a shower. Violet, I'm dropping your bag on your bed."
She turned on her heel, before climbing up the stairs to the bedrooms, intent on getting a nice, hot shower before she grabbed something to eat.
She smiled at Lily as she crossed her on her way to her room, being met with a matching smile and shining emerald eyes, the same shade she saw every time she looked at any of her two daughters.
Yes, even the Professors had gone home in face of the threat, Professor Dumbledore the only one still wandering, searching for the culprit among the endless, vacant halls of the Hogwarts, with only Fawkes, Hagrid, the school owls, the Hogwarts house-elves and the endless portraits for company. For some reason, he seemed to believe that none of the students nor the teachers was responsible for the Chamber of Secrets being opened, but nobody could be heard complaining.
If there was anyone that could possibly pull off the impossible, it would be Albus Dumbledore. The old and wizened, grandfatherly headmaster hid the true prowess of the Wizard of the Century behind his affection. Perhaps, he would be able to seal the Chamber permanently, if not catch the culprit.
Back to the present, Lily had clearly had the same idea as Lyra and her younger daughter, as she had just stepped out of the shower, her scarlet hair dark and damp, a soft, comfortable dressing gown wrapped around her curvy body.
Despite being almost twenty years her junior, and straight, Lyra had to physically struggle to keep her eyes off the delectable ass of the certified MILF, as she headed towards the dining room where everybody save Rose and herself were gathered, her ass swaying effortlessly as she walked.
Lyra could see where the two younger Potter daughters got their sinful beauty from.
Hearing Lily come down the stairs after having put away her stuff, James whirled on his lovely wife, seeking to grate her for more information. "Lily flower, can you give me more details on what happened? The girls are being stubborn!"
He complained, his childish voice endearing.
She smiled at her husband, sighing as she rounded the table, drawing a chair to sit beside Violet. Her hand immediately came up to weave through her daughter's messy hair, signature of all the Potters, as she sighed softly, trying to recollect whatever she had gathered from her own little investigation.
"Well," she started, stopping for a moment to father her bearings and map out a suitable line of approach before she continued, "It all started on Halloween evening."
"Like duh," Violet spoke up from beside her, her voice dry and devoid of any trace of humour at the strange pattern emerging from the family's Halloweens. "Next Halloween, I hope that cat dies."
Lily shot her a disapproving look, but didn't remove her hand from her hair. She turned back to the three Marauders listening to her tale attentively, noting that they were serious. "Mrs. Norris- Mr. Filch's cat, got petrified. There was a sign on the wall, written in blood, about the Chamber of Secrets being reopened and warning enemies of the 'Heir'."
"Talk about the writing on the wall, am I right?" Sirius snickered slightly, elbowing James, who couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips at his friend's shit joke.
He shook his head at the disapproving look Lily shot at them at being so rudely interrupted, trying to keep his own laughter at bay as he whispered back to Sirius, "See, this is exactly why you are not the Head Auror."
The Black heir just shrugged in response before moving his eyes back to Lily. She opened her mouth to continue, but before she could, Violet cut in, "Everybody thought it was a prank at first, yada yada yada, then some other people got petrified and Dumbledore couldn't reverse the spells. So everyone decided it was serious, no, not Sirius, and finally, Dumbledore decided to suspend the school indefinitely, until the situation was resolved."
She shrugged slightly, shaking her head in a silent gesture to get her mother to stop stroking her hair, as she sat straight in her chair. "Long story short, it means that I get to skip this year. Which would have been good, if this had not been my OWL year. As it is, the OWLs and NEWTs students have to repeat their year while all the others get a free pass. Which means, that next year, Rose is promoted to third year, while I remain in fifth. Or so Dumbledore said, I don't know if he will change his mind later." She turned her head to the side, muttering under her breath, "Lucky bastards."
James snickered at that, before he reached across the table, patting his elder daughter comfortingly. "Don't worry. Look at the bright side of things. You get an entire extra year to prepare for the OWLs, and besides, perhaps you can partake in our search for Harry!"
Violet immediately perked up at her twin's name, her expression visibly brightening. After a Gringotts visit where James, as Lord Potter, submitted an official request to see all active members of the Potter family, the hope had been reignited in their hearts, as they saw that Harry was indeed alive. He was just out there, somewhere in the world, just untraceable because of his pseudo-squib nature. It was up to them to find him, and Violet for one was very eager, an enthusiasm that was shared by the rest of the family.
It did not matter if he was a squib or not. What mattered was that he was their Harry, and they would love him regardless.
"Alright! We will start looking for him after lunch!" Violet cheered, acting as if they were going on a fun treasure hunt instead of a possibly worldwide search for her missing twin, a search which had stumped the Aurors and the Muggle police as well, for more than a decade.
She immediately raced up the stairs, jumping two at a time as she headed for her room to take a shower and freshen up, her energy revitalized at the thought of finding her twin brother.
"Go slowly- you'll fall, Violet!" Lily called after her rowdy daughter, as James laughed.
"Freshen up, Violet! We will play Quidditch in the backyard after lunch!" He cheered, excited to check out the effects of his elder daughter's new broom kit firsthand after she had banned him from going anywhere near it.
After the sound of Violet's bedroom door being slammed shut echoed through the entirety of Potter manor, James turned solemn.
"What are they going to do for the petrified students, Lily?" Remus asked, drawing a chair to sit on. He had just returned from making sure the three girls had everything they needed.
"I'm not sure." She muttered, her emerald eyes gazing worriedly off into space. "They have been admitted to St. Mungo's. They are all Muggleborn, Dumbledore contacted their parents to let them know of the situation." She grimaced, thinking of what the Headmaster must have had to go through.
"What do you think the fabled monster of Slytherin is, Lily?" Sirius asked, his voice grave as he tapped nervously on the wooden table. Everybody knew the myth of the Chamber of Secrets, someone had died the last time it was opened.
"I have no idea." She whispered, her normally sharp eyes growing unfocused for a moment. "I don't know any creature who can petrify, that too, so strongly. Severus said that the effects were like a mixture of a Petrification potion mixed with the Draught of Living Death. Which shouldn't be possible, their ingredients are incompatible and explosive." Lily pondered on it for a moment, her own knowledge of Potions shining through, too lost in her thoughts to notice the grimace the three Marauders gave at the mention of the Hogwarts Potions master. "So this is either a really strong wizard or witch with an unknown spell, or it is really a monster, unknown to us... I don't have any idea."
"Didn't Dumbledore say anything?"
"No. He just shoved all of us out of the school before the day was over. Although I caught Hagrid talking about roosters..." Her face grew increasingly worried by the second at the thought of the lovable Hogwarts groundskeeper and the elderly Headmaster all alone in the castle with the monster. "James, do you think Dumbledore suspects a basilisk? Although it is too big to go around unnoticed..."
She trailed off.
"I have no idea what is happening, Lils," James confessed. "Dumbledore assured Cornelius and Amelia that he will take care of it, and if it isn't done before the end of the year, he will willingly call in the Ministry's help. After such a convincing speech, nobody will be mad enough to go looking for needless trouble when he himself assured that he will take care of it."
His voice broke, before he took off his spectacles, trying to fight the tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm just glad you all are okay. You, Violet, Rose, Lyra, all of you... I can't believe you all came so close to death... I know you faced the Stalker before, but... this is... I don't know what to say..."
Lily immediately reached across the table to hug her husband, reaching out with her hands to squeeze Remus and Sirius comfortingly as well. In all the excitement and confusion, she had completely forgotten how badly everything would affect the three Marauders.
"It's okay. Everything's okay, we're here, everything's fine. Dumbledore said he will take care of it, so all you concentrate on is insulting Lucius and finding my- no, our, Harry, alright, love?"
This would be a happy year for all of them. Lily would make sure of it.
As it turned out, the year had just turned a hell of a lot darker.
Dumbledore was getting too old for all this, he concluded, as he followed the centaurs through the Forbidden Forest to wherever they were leading him. They refused to say exactly where, but had demanded he bring a powerful magical artefact, something like the Sword of Gryffindor. Thus, he had the Sorting Hat held in one hand while his loyal, faithful friend, Fawkes, rested on his shoulder, brightening the otherwise gloomy forest cheerful, soft singing, with high pitched squeaks and trills filling the silence.
He resisted the urge to swear as he stumbled over another root, cursing his age. Bane looked backwards, his expression unreadable.
"Are you okay, Headmaster?" Firenze trotted up to his side, his tail swishing nervously from side to side.
"I am, my friend. Just lead me to the object. Forgive my slowness, my great age has come to catch up with me finally, it seems." Dumbledore's soft voice made Fawkes squawk in indignation, briefly flapping his wings in warning at his self-deprecating words.
He laughed, accepting the Centaur's help as he navigated the rough terrain of the silent forest, the only sound being their footsteps, or hooves on the forest floor, Bane snorting uneasily as he trotted proudly ahead, and Fawkes singing joyfully overhead.
"You know, Headmaster, I'm a hat. I'm supposed to be worn on the head. That might just free up your other hand so that you can balance better, no?" The Sorting Hat's voice cut through the silence, partly uneasy, partly comfortable companionship.
"No, my friend. You are a very old artefact, the Hat of Godric Gryffindor himself! It would be a great insult to the wizard if I wear his hat."
"Magic had come long and far since those times, Albus. It is only the fanciful imagination of mortals and the wistful thoughts of times long past that make them seem greater than they are. Magic has greatly developed over the years, I dare say every single child who graduates from these gates has the same level of skill and magical knowledge as the Founding Four, if not the same level of raw power." The Hat gave him a brief lecture on Magical History, making him smile.
"Would you mind taking over the History of Magic lessons from Binns?" Dumbledore jested merrily.
The Sorting Hat snorted, if it could even do that. This was the eight thousandth, two hundredth and twenty-sixth time he had been asked this, and yes, he had kept count. It was not like there was much else to do anyway, when he wasn't sorting. "No." He refused the position yet again. "As much as I would love to, if only to break the boredom, I cannot take any duty that the Four did not mean for me."
"We are here, Headmaster." Bane's rough, deep voice broke them out of their friendly banter that made Dumbledore feel young again. "Purge the forest of this evil, we demand you."
Of course, Centaurs would not request.
Firenze left his side, going to join the circle of Centaurs that had gathered around the clearing, all snorting and huffing uneasily, their hooves pawing at the ground and leaving marks.
"Is... this what I think it is?" Dumbledore almost stumbled on his own feet at the dark, evil magic that the object reeked of.
Cautiously, he inched closer, every step that the aged Headmaster took, only serving to make the Centaurs even more on edge than they already were.
He peered through his half-moon spectacles down at what looked like a small, simple black diary, battered and old, lying in the dirt, unassuming to anyone who couldn't feel magic.
"A young, red-haired witch came and threw this here before you suspended the school. She seemed afraid." One of the centaurs spoke uneasily, afraid to even voice what he thought the artefact was. "Purge us of this... filth, we demand you!"
Dumbledore took out his wand, casting a few charms to see if it really was what everyone suspected.
"Merlin, Albus." The Sorting Hat's shocked voice cut through the silence as it looked at the results of the diagnostic charms with non-existent eyes. "It is a Horcrux!"
Several Centaurs snorted uneasily at the word.
"Do not even let such vile words leave your mouth, Hat!" Bane roared in anger, rearing threateningly on his hind legs. "Purge this, Headmaster!"
"Sorting Hat." Albus' soft voice cut through the unease, a serene sense of calm hiding the cold steel in his voice. "If you would."
"Of course, Albus! Just reach into me!"
Following its words, Dumbledore reached into the Sorting Hat, feeling as his hand enclosed around the cold, golden hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor.
He unsheathed the sword from the Hat, silently placing the Hat on his own head, having forgotten all about his earlier words as he held the sword aloft, letting its cold, grey steel catch the light in the opening, glinting cruelly. Its gold, ruby studded hilt majestic, something that not even the richest could afford, its beautiful craftsmanship something that only the most skilled goblins could ever hope to replicate.
Despite its size, it was surprisingly light and well balanced, looking not too out of place in Dumbledore's thin, but deceptively strong hands.
The sight of the Sword of Gryffindor seemed to calm down the uneasy, angsty Centaurs somewhat. Being creatures of magic, they were attuned to it, and the presence of such vile magic was repulsive. It was like sleeping in a bed full of shit for them.
There was Dark magic, like the Unforgivables, which were bad, but not that bad, and then, there was vile soul magic, which tampered with souls, that went against all the laws of nature. Like the Horcrux ritual.
"Who do you think could make this, Albus? Red-haired witch... there are few redheads at Hogwarts, but all of them are trustworthy. I don't feel it in myself to suspect any of them. None whom I have sorted in the past twenty years are capable of such evil."
"People change. We will just have to see." Dumbledore spoke softly, before bringing down the sword onto the black diary, the cold steel effortlessly slicing the Horcrux in half.
Immediately, most of them covered their ears, lest they should bleed.
There was a screech, before a dark shade, a black misty creature of evil, rose from the remains of the book, its body twisting in burning agony as it screamed and screeched like a banshee, giving Dumbledore a momentary glimpse of its pale, handsome face, a familiar face long lost to time, contorted in agony before it burst into dust, that was blown away by an invisible wind. Black ink poured from the pages, like vile blood from the bleeding heart of a demon, seeping into the muddy ground and forming a dark puddle that reflected the grey, overcast sky above in dark ink.
Thunder rolled across the grey clouds, a flash in the sky, accompanied a few minutes later by an ominous growl, that signaled the coming storm.
Waving his wand once, Dumbledore made both the ink and the diary disappear, making the clearing look normal again, save for the ring of the Centaurs, silent at having witnessed such vile magic. Some of the younger ones had their eyes and ears covered by the elders, as if they were watching something forbidden, taboo, while a few had turned away, in shame and disgust.
"Who did it, Albus?" The Sorting Hat asked worriedly, as it was pulled off Dumbledore's old head, so that he could resheath the sword of Gryffindor.
"The one I suspected. None other than Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin." His blue eyes were hazy, lost in memories of regrets.
The Hat was silent for some time, recognising the student and what he had become.
"Then that means we have already solved the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets." It sighed. "And here I was, thinking I could have an adventure, maybe even an epic battle with Fawkes against Salazar's basilisk and the Heir of Slytherin, with the sword of Godric Gryffindor in the Chamber of Secrets. Spells flying all around, the rush and thrill of battle, oh well, I guess it's back to the old dusty cupboard till next year."
Dumbledore smiled slightly as Fawkes landed back on his shoulder, wrestling with a rat in his beak. The elderly Headmaster didn't even care at the rodent blood his familiar was getting all over his robes. "You missed everything, friend. We found and exposed the Heir of Slytherin, and closed the Chamber of Secrets again. Well, at least you had a happy hunt. That's a fat rat, I must say, better than the ones you usually get. If only I had your skill whenever I went fishing. I might have even won the Muggle contest last year, instead of coming back home with a small, horribly undersized, juvenile herring."
The phoenix cocked his head, as he looked at Dumbledore, a silent question in his eyes as he held down the dead rat with his talon on the Headmaster's shoulder, none of them showing any visible reaction to it.
Dumbledore laughed at his familiar. "No, let the students have most of the year off, they came quite close to death. We can just check if the Basilisk has gone off to sleep again, before we recall them. It should have, with Tom's magic gone. I think I'll call them back sometime next February."
He laughed again, a new vitality filling his bones as he thought of spending his days lazily, doing the accursed, piled up paperwork at his leisure, and having long chats in Hagrid's cosy hut, with a handful of sherbet lemons or cockroach clusters and a rock cake. Besides tea, of course, that was indispensable.
All the chaos with the Stalker fiasco and Tom's apparent attempts at revival could come later.
He attempted to step away from the clearing, but his path was blocked by none other than Bane, the brute. He looked up at the tall centaur towering over him even with his tall stature, but Bane's features did not hold hostility.
He pointed towards someone behind Dumbledore, making him turn.
An elderly Centaur stood there, someone with a name that Dumbledore couldn't even pronounce.
"We must express our gratitude towards you for getting rid of the beautiful forest of this great evil, Headmaster." The old centaur declared proudly, holding his head high. His silver beard almost as long and flowing as Dumbledore's.
"We will like to gift you with the greatest gift any centaur can give, a glimpse of the knowledge hidden in the stars." The centaur shifted for a moment, his hind leg pawing against the ground. "Beware of your actions, your actions dictate the fate of the world. You can be an oak, strong, tall and proud, but get torn down in the storm that is to come, or a reed, yield and survive. Yet, you must know where to draw the line, lest you give free rein to the devourer. You must choose your steps wisely, Headmaster, the stars favour you, but fate is a fickle thing, let us be the first to admit it. It is how you choose to play your cards that decides the outcome of the great game. The enemy of your enemy is not always your friend. Beware, Headmaster. Will you ally yourself with the evil one who does great evil, or the evil one who is capable of a greater evil?"
The centaur stopped for a moment, allowing Dumbledore to briefly mull over his words. "Who is this evil one who is capable of greater evil you speak of, my wise friend?"
"The one who is not afraid of death. The one who conquers all, the one who wields death as a sword. Why would anyone be afraid of one's own weapon?"
"This is about the Stalker, isn't it?"
"Names have no significance in this world, Headmaster. The Flight of Death flees from death. Whatever you wizards choose to call this great evil, holds no significance to us, nor do we bear any grudge against him. His actions are evil from the entire world's, all magical and mundane races' moral standpoint, but he has not committed any crime against Mother Magic... yet." The old Centaur stomped on the ground impatiently, signalling the end of the conversation.
Although unsatisfied by the words he got, which raised only more questions than answers, Dumbledore bowed respectfully to the elder Centaur.
He straightened, "Will you honour me by dining with me and Hagrid at the Great Hall, wise one? There is room enough for all of your herd, and I'm sure the house elves can get whatever you wish to have."
The Centaur stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head slowly. "I'm afraid I must refuse your hospitality this time, honoured Headmaster. Offer my greetings and well wishes to Hagrid. Tell him Aragog has a new brood expecting to hatch sometime soon, he would be much obliged if Hagrid helps."
The Centaur gave him a little respectful tilt of the head, leaving him watching as he turned and proudly trotted off into the dark depths of the Forbidden Forest, his silver tail swishing from side to a side in a content manner as the herd parted like a sea before him, a great mass of horse and man, before following him into the forest.
Dumbledore sighed, absentmindedly stroking Fawkes' beautiful gold and scarlet plumage, ignoring the bloody mess he was making on his shoulder as he massacred the rodent. A simple cleaning charm would suffice for that, but a single swish of his wand would not fix this mess he was wading into.
Bane, the last of the lot to leave the clearing, halted, pawing at the ground nervously as Dumbledore looked up at him, confused.
He looked at the old Headmaster, opening his mouth to say something before he stopped, only nodding before he galloped off to rejoin the rest of the herd.
"Good luck, Headmaster. Your words and actions define the fate of this world." Firenze offered him a few words of comfort that did little for his messed up emotions and racing heart, only serving to impress upon him the Herculean magnitude of his task. Firenze tossed his head up high, his silver hair glistening majestically in the sunlight as he held his head high, offering Dumbledore a brief nod before he galloped off.
"What did you make of it, Albus?" The Sorting Hat asked, breaking the silence and interrupting his train of thought.
Dumbledore shook his head, standing in the clearing he had been led into. "I don't know. All that I know, is that this is the beginning of something darker."
AN: Hehe, nice bit at the end, no? I didn't think it would become so... long. Anyway, this is chapter... 13, right? Harry reappears in chapter 14, that is, next chapter, before he finally meets his family, chapter 15!
Also, as I mentioned in this chapter, despite there being a four year gap between Violet and Rose, Rose will study in third while Violet is in fifth, OWL year. This is intentional. Harry will have to give his OWLs, the first major wizarding test, so he is admitted into fifth year after Dumbledore sees he is capable. I don't want to include anything special to allow him to give his OWLs so that he can enter sixth. Thus, Harry, Lyra, Violet, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Daphne and Tracey are all in fifth year.
And then a little cliffhanger while I go and work on Dealing with Drama, and no, this is non-negotiable. Hehe, I'm evil.
Keep calm and headbang!