Chapter 19: Part I
(A/N: Long chapter people, just a notice)
Splikvin led him down past the potions classroom and past the Slytherins' hidden entrance to their common room. It got darker, with no torches or portraits, and dust was beginning to form on the floor. This isn't on the Marauders' Map, Harry thought with confusion, looking around at the pillars lining the hall.
Splikvin ran her hand along the wall, counting with each step she took. At step ninety-one, she stopped. Pressing her hand to the pillar she said, "Serpenditonas Polyrhythmics Individuality."
Harry starred at her, thinking she'd gone nuts again. That changed when the pillar did though. The snakes carved in the stone slithered around, faster and faster, their onyx eyes glinting. Then, a soft green light shone around Splikvin's hand, and the black pillar disappeared, leaving a serpent statue in its place. "Password?" it asked in English.
"Serpent's fire," she replied.
The large black snake nodded and opened its mouth, revealing to very large, very sharp silver fangs. Splikvin stuck her hand in it, poking the palm of her hand on one of them, drawing a pinprick of blood. After she removed her hand, a green flame appeared in the statue's eyes, and it uncoiled into an 's' shape, revealing an iron door.
"Come on," Splikvin told him, putting a hand on the doorknob.
"Salazar Slytherin's workroom?" Hermione's voice said in an awed whisper.
Harry turned and saw his bushy-haired friend following Snape, her eyes wide
"Yeah," Splikvin answered, "You won't be able to tell anyone of it; get in Harry."
He went through the door she held open, then she followed; the door shut right after. "What happened?" he asked.
"Only descendants of Salazar can gain entrance," she explained, "And purebloods at that. We can only bring in one person: I brought you, Sev will bring Hermione. This way."
Harry followed her down the black marble hallway; silver-flamed torches sprang into life as they walked down the hall. At the end was a large room, its walls covered with hundreds of shelves, which held thousands of carefully stored ingredients, many of which Harry didn't recognize. Bright crystals were the light source in here, and the stone somehow reflected it, making the black stone look less dark and more like a night sky.
Glass doors led the way to more storerooms and one to a greenhouse; a third led to an underwater passageway.
"Is that-" he began, then stopped.
"The lake?" Splikvin finished dryly, "Yes; that passage leads to Salazar's former underwater observatory, I believe the giant squid can be seen from it—rather close too." Harry shuddered. Splikvin tossed him an emerald green robe. "Put that on, it's resistant to just about everything." She pointed to one of the worktables, which was large enough to host three cauldrons at once, had several cutting boards, a sink, a stool, and a set of utensils for each cauldron. "You'll be working there; I'm on your left. Sev will be on your right, and Hermione on his." Harry noticed that the tables the professors would be working at stations which held at least seven cauldrons, with room for two more--otherwise they were the same as his.
Snape and Hermione entered as Splikvincreated a list of the potions Harry would make on a chalkboard in front of his station. "This will be worse than NEWTs," she warned, "We don't have time for mistakes."
"Yes Professor," Harry and Hermione answered.
"Think of the ingredient and it will come," Snape informed them, getting two cloaks for himself and Hermione, "If you tell the cauldrons specific stirring instructions, they will follow them. The slightest mispronunciation, however, will cancel that."
"So don't do it wrong," Splikvin finished dryly, "Let's get going."
Harry immediately got started on the pain-relievers set to him: two for minor, and one for intense. He summoned the necessary ingredients for them all, and proceeded to dice, measure, pour, and double-check—he could do these ones in his sleep. Nevertheless, Harry made sure he didn't miss one thing, and set the timer for the first potion. He instructed the cauldron to stir the potionas required, then moved on to the next potion.
When he finished those three, they were immediately transported to the cooling- and store- room. Quickly, he scoured the cauldrons spotless, and began again. Tallon worked quickly, not opening his mouth once to speak unless it was to the cauldrons, afraid it might distract someone else.
Splikvin changed the list to one burn treatment, one swelling-reducer, and one coolant draught when he'd made five batches. These were slightly harder, but Harry got to work fast, summoning the things he needed without hesitation.
The hours passed quickly as the four worked. Though the stone room was cool, the heat of the cauldrons brought sweat to Harry's forehead. He wiped it away impatiently before starting on his next batch. When he needed to wait while the potions were stirred, he glanced at how the others were doing.
Hermione was fine, he noticed that she was doing the same set of potions as him. Snape and Splikvin, however, had no lists in front of them. His eyes widened at the speed they were working at. The two's hands quickly chopped and poured, they never measured—they didn't need to apparently. Harry saw nine cauldrons at each of their stations, they worked down the line, making sure nothing burned. Tallon also saw two cauldrons that were four times the size of regular ones, simmering a little ways away. He noticed that they didn't need timers either, and from the ingredients they summoned, Harry was able to identify the potions they were working on—one's he'd never think of dreaming to try.
Tallon put his surprise and decision that he would never try for a potions master credential out of the way as one of his timers went of. He immediately began the next step.
They filled up half of one storeroom with about seventy batches of various potions. Harry and Hermione were grateful for the stools—they might have collapsed off their feet if they hadn't been able to sit once in a while. As the clock chimed nine pm, Snape told them to finish the batch they were on, then stop. After they finished, they began to pack the ones they'd made already. "But don't they need to cool?" Hermione asked, boxing up several bottles of pain-reliever.
"They already have," Snape answered.
"In these rooms, one hour is equivalent to one day," Splikvin explained, "A time-alteration charm."
Harry flinched, remembering last November. Snape saw, but said nothing. Tallon ducked his head to avoid the potion master's gazeand finished packing up burn-pastes.
They levitated the fifty boxes out of the room, returning to the Great Hall. The healers fell upon the boxes, rushing to give patients what they needed. The four of them left back to the dungeons, where they squeezed one more set in by ten-thirty, then called a halt. The two students were grateful, they were asleep on their feet practically. They left, instinctively making their way to Gryffindor Tower. Harry fell asleep before he knew it, but his bed didn't seem as soft as it used to be.
Tallon yawned, stretching his arms. He felt reenergized from the work they'd done last night. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he thought he must be dreaming still—everything looked wrong.
The bed was made of wood that was too dark, and it wasn't a four-poster either. Glancing at his feet, he saw emerald green covers. Then it hit him: he was in the Slytherin Dormitories. What the heck? He thought, and got up.
A set of his regular clothes was on the bed to his left, along with his boots, vest, wands, and dagger. Harry checked himself and noticed he was in his pajamas—nothing made sense.
He changed rapidly, putting everything on before heading down the spiral staircase to the common room. It was just like he'd remembered from second year, but the light came from glowing crystals instead of torches this time, and thus it didn't look as creepy.
Only moments later, Hermione came down from the girls' dormitory, wide-eyed as she looked at everything. Harry smothered a laugh when she missed the last step, nearly falling because of her surprise. "Are we where I think we are?" she squeaked.
He smiled in amusement, "How many places do you know that are in the dungeons, made of stone, and completely decked out in black, green, silver, and snakes?" he asked dryly.
"So in other words: yes?"
"Yeah," Harry pointed to the silver frame he'd made for the founder of the house, which hung on the wall between the two staircases, "See? Normally that's Salazar's frame."
Then a door next to the fireplace appeared and opened, and the two Snapes came out. Splikvin spotted them first and smiled slightly. "I doubted sleeping on the stone floor would be comfortable, so you're here."
Harry blinked. "Huh?"
"You two passed out quite a ways from Gryffindor Tower, and we aren't able to get into your tower anyway, so we brought you here." She explained.
"Oh—but how did our things get here?" Hermione asked.
"I picked yours up from Headquarters," replied Splikvin.
"Black and Lupin brought yours," Snape told Harry.
"Breakfast?" Splikvin asked, they nodded.
Several house elves appeared, and quickly created a table full of food. Splikvin got up when a knock sounded. She opened the door to the common room and Sirius and Remus came in. "Wow, you remembered." She teased sarcastically.
"Of course we remembered," Sirius replied, "It's hard to forget when your godson is sleeping in the Slytherin Dormitories."
"Relax Sirius," said Splikvin, "It's not as if we were going to kill either of them—give us credit for having some heart! And I thought you were here to eat, not attack us for not leaving them to sleep on the floor." The two arrivals joined the others at the table.
"So, what were you doing?" Remus asked, looking at Hermione and Harry.
"Potions," they replied. "For the patients," Hermione added.
Remus conversed with them all politely, asking questions about the different potions they'd made, and telling them how the patients were doing. Part of the news was sad: seven people had died overnight. However, many of the people who'd had an accident with strange effects happen to them were sent home, cured by spells; roughly two-hundred and twenty people remained.
Sirius remained silent throughout the meal, with a brooding look on his face. Harry wondered what had made Padfoot look like that. Surely his sleeping in the Slytherin dormitories wasn't that troubling. Harry's answer came in the form of a question. "Tallon," Padfoot said finally, "Where did the scars on your back come from?"
Harry flinched violently, "Don't wanna talk about it." He muttered, staring at his food—he wasn't hungry anymore.
"Tallon, please. It worries me; what happened?" Harry didn't answer. "It was Voldemort, wasn't it?" Sirius' face darkened, "Did Wormtail-"
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT, ALRIGHT?" Harry yelled; the bitter pain of recalling that time was too harsh for him. Jumping from his seat, Harry practically fled from the common room.
Sirius got up to follow after Harry, only to find Remus standing in the way. "Padfoot, you have got to keep a leash on your questions!" he exclaimed, "Don't you realize Harry doesn't want to remember?"
"He's got to talk to somebody!" Sirius objected.
"I don't doubt that," Moony replied, "But forcing him to talk only makes it worse."
"How do you know? Moony, you and Harry aren't the same!"
"I know that," he sighed.
"Lupin is right." To everyone's surprise, the statement came from Severus; no one noticed Hermione slip out of the room via teleportation.
Sirius snorted, "You don't have any idea aboutwhat Harry feels like; how would you know?"
"I know enough to say that forcing someone to speak of something they do not wish to only makes it worse for both sides." Severus retorted stiffly, he didn't mention that Harry had told him the prophecy and not them.
"Why should I believe you?" Sirius demanded, still trying to follow his godson.
"I can say the same," Selena sighed, "Please Sirius; let it go. And Harry has told someone: the elements."
"How do you know that?" asked Remus.
"Smuck told me. Now please Sirius, give him time. Obviously he's not used to remembering it yet; he won't thank you, or anyone, for making him relive it—even in words."
Padfoot's shoulders slumped, "Fine."
Harry had stalked further down into the dungeons, not bothering to even cast a simple light spell as it got darker. He didn't want to admit that he was masking his fear with rage. He tried to keep his mind clear, void of any emotion, but it just wouldn't work. Unwanted tears formed, Harry couldn't keep them back. He didn't want to remember his capture, and he didn't want Sirius mad at him—what could he do?
Hermione's voice called out to him, it was dim though—she was far off. Nonetheless, Harry walked faster, blinded by rage, sorrow, and the battle to keep them under control. When he heard footsteps, he turned into a cobra, hoping the shadows would hide him.
He coiled up in a corner, feeling his body shudder—a snake's version of shedding tears. Warm hands picked him up, gently stroking his back. Harry didn't try to escape, his eyes were clamped shut. The person who held him began to hum quietly as they continued to pet him comfortingly. Harry's shuddering stopped, and after a few minutes he opened his eyes.
The person was pale, black-haired, and wearing green robes: it was Salazar. "What happened Harry?" he asked quietly, "I could feel you all the way at The Hideaway."
"I got frustrated," Harry replied quietly, his voice somewhat shaking, "I guess I was scared…I didn't want to talk about something, but Sirius wanted me to. I—I yelled at him…I shouldn't of, now he's going to hate me!" New shudders occurred, and Tallon couldn't say anything more.
Salazar watched the young snake as he walked, making his way to one of the many hidden rooms he'd made. "He will not hate you," he said, "It was foolish of him to push. Don't worry Harry, it will be fine. You just need time to adjust."
He found the entrance, pressed the key stone with his foot, and went in. It was a glass room, with a soothing view of the lake, underwater of course. He sat in one of the green armchairs and looked back down at the snake in his hands. "We all have things that trouble us Harry, and while talking about them does ease the pain eventually, we must be ready to talk first," he shook his head, "Otherwise, it will just increase the pain we feel. Think of it as making a potion: you don't try to make it until you are sure you know what to do, until you are comfortable with the ingredients and tools. If you are not, you become nervous, and make mistakes."
Harry hissed a quiet chuckle, trust Salazar to compare emotions to potions. They were silent for a while, to Harry it felt like hours, for Salazar—and in reality—it was only minutes. "Thanks Salazar," Tallon hissed finally.
The founder nodded, "No trouble Harry. Feel free to use this room at anytime, you should be able to find it again, if not, I can tell you."
Harry nodded, and Salazar stood, "I believe you are working on potions currently? For the newcomers in the Great Hall?"
"Yeah, I should get back actually; you don't mind us using your workroom, do you?"
He chuckled, "Not at all. Is there anything I might be able to assist with?"
Harry thought about it, "Probably; we need just about everything I think."
"I will use my other workroom then, and make 'just about everything'."
Tallon starred at him as the founder exited the room, "Just how many secret rooms did you put into this place?"
He grinned, "Many Harry, many."
Harry met up with the other three just outside of Salazar's workroom, none of them said anything as they entered. They got to work immediately, and Harry foundthe quietsoothing.
They took a short break for lunch, then got back to making potions. Splikvin had assigned Harry some more advanced potions, and to use one of the larger cauldrons to make a larger batch of a certain antidote. Dinner came and went, and they returned to work. After packing up the day's potions, which were much greater in number than yesterday, and delivering them to the healers, they stopped. Harry didn't want to, ten more people had died and every moment they stopped meant another moment gone from someone's life.
"You need to sleep Potter," Splikvin replied firmly.
"I'm not tired though!" he objected, she wasn't listening. "I'm not tired…" he growled again under his breath.
He was about to protest aloud once more when Hermione tugged his arm. "Don't you realize that they need rest?" she demanded in a whisper, motioning to the professors. "They're working three times as hard as us, if not more! I heard Madame Pomfrey talking to them; they've been up since three this morning, seeing what is needed! That means they've only gotten about three and a half hours of sleep! Yes, those people need help, but that help won't come if something happens to the Professors!"
Harry blinked, he hadn't thought of that. "Sorry," he muttered, and then remembered that Salazar had said he'd leave a note in Snape's office, mentioning where the potions he'd made were. That's got to be at least fifteen more boxes, Tallon thought, recalling the speed Salazar often worked at The Hideaway. "Alright, let'sactually make it to our beds this time." Together they left, and teleported to Headquarters. Harry stayed the night in one of the many guest rooms, falling asleep once he'd reached the bed. His last thought was, I guess I am a little tired…
Coming Up:
Part Two of Chapter 19
Chapter 20: The-Boy-Who-Lived
Then:
Bringing Back the Wards
Review Response:
Wytil: About one, minotaurs only, but roughly fifty captured.
(A/N: This installment WILL be finished by the time The Half-blood Prince comes out, just so everyone knows. Thanks hay for reminding me.)