-1Secrets of the Founders
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: What if Voldemort had been prompted to protect and booby trap his horcruxes, including a certain diary, a bit more thoroughly? What if the chamber of secrets contained secrets other than those we have discovered so far? Very much Harry/Ginny (although not until a bit later on…)
Rating: PG for now, although it will likely go higher later on in the story…
Ships: H/G is the only one I'll guarantee… The rest will be whatever my muse tells me they should be. He's very demanding about these sorts of things.
A/N: Hello all, and thank you for reading my story! Sorry for the long wait, those of you who might have been waiting for chapter three. I've finally made an outline of what is going to happen, more or less, over the course of this story, so hopefully new chapters will come more quickly now. Not much action in this chapter, but it does explain a few things. Once again, reviews give an author incentive, incentive makes an author happy, and happy authors just don't discontinue their stories--they just don't! (The author does not own "Legally Blond".)
Chapter Three
It wasn't terribly easy--being a beetle. There were all sorts of dangers and predators that most creatures never even thought twice about. Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Reporter, knew this better than the average wizard or witch, although she would certainly never admit to it.
The office of headmaster Albus Dumbledore contained a plenitude of normal seeming objects that were nonetheless somewhat hazardous to a beetle, but Rita, currently in her beetle animagus form, had nonetheless decided that the benefits of a little visit to said office outweighed the risks. If the rumours circulating concerning Harry Potter were to be believed, well, Rita would have paid a visit to a muggle insect extermination plant to get such a story!
Luckily the window had been left open. It was such a hassle when Rita was forced to enter the castle through other means and try to work her way up to the headmaster's office. Rita perched on the window ledge, but remained in the shadow of one of the shutters, hoping to avoid the gaze of the blasted phoenix that was always eyeing her hungrily.
The office seemed to be full of people, very few of whom Rita recognized. Of course the multi-vision she experienced as a beetle sometimes made it a bit difficult to tell for sure. She hopped a bit further into the room, perching on one of Dumbledore's bookshelves. destroyed," Albus Dumbledore was saying. "It's not completely certain of course, but I think we must accept that it is very unlikely Harry or Ginny could have survived a basilisk and the avalanche of rocks that must have occurred when the Chamber of Secrets was destroyed, as well as anything else that might have existed in that chamber. Slytherin's heir was supposed to be the only one who could enter the chamber without being killed."
"Albus," a balding red-haired man interjected, "How is it that the chamber was destroyed in the first place? It couldn't have been an earthquake--its effects would have been felt more strongly in the rest of the castle, not to mention Hogsmeade and the surrounding areas."
"It could have been any number of things," said the headmaster. "A curse on the chamber itself, or perhaps on some artifact within; Slytherin himself could have charmed the chamber to destroy itself rather than allow its secrets to all be revealed, or the chamber could simply have been too old to support itself and caved in at just the wrong moment. That's not really what's most important right now."
A red haired woman leaning on the balding man's shoulder let out a shuddering sob.
"But, Professor," said yet another red-head--a boy sitting on the other side of the crying woman, "Is it certain, absolutely certain, that they're gone? I mean, we didn't find their bodies anywhere under those rocks, did we? Perhaps they found some way to get out or maybe they've been kidnapped by the heir of Slytherin and taken somewhere, or something… I just don't think we should give up all hope, just yet."
"Hey! The clock! Have you looked at the clock?" asked yet another red head from somewhere on the other side of the room. Rita shook her beetle body in momentary confusion. There seemed to be twelve versions of this boy looming over her, rather than the customary six that she was used to. Ah, yes. It was those trouble making twins who had caught her and put her in another boy's soup at dinner the other night. Rita reminded herself to write something nasty about them in her upcoming article.
"Yeah, the clock!" the other twin chimed in now. "We'll get it!" They looked at the headmaster who nodded briefly, and extended a jar full of sparkling green powder toward them. Taking a handful each the boys stepped into the fireplace and disappeared with identical shouts of "The Burrow!"
Rita took advantage of the momentary distraction to leap from the bookshelf onto the corner of Dumbledore's desk, narrowly missing landing in a bowl of those horribly sticky lemon drops Dumbledore liked to keep around.
Everyone in the room sat quietly, apart from the sobs of the red-haired woman, waiting for the twins return. Rita skuttled into the shadow of a nearby stack of papers to avoid the gaze of the greasy-haired man with the hooked nose and the sharp gaze. He had nearly put her into several different potions now, and his eyes were narrowed suspiciously in her direction.
After several long moments, the twins stumbled clumsily back out of the fireplace, one of them clutching a large round clock, which he set gently on top of Dumbledore's desk. Rita had to jump hastily to one side to avoid being squished by it. Everyone gathered around the desk to take a look at it.
The clock had nine golden hands, each with a name written upon them, and in place of
numbers were locations. Most of the hands were currently pointing to the word "school" which was engraved upon the clock along with various other places such as "home," "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," "mortal peril," and "work," which was where two of the hands not pointing to "school" were currently settled. One of the hands, however, the one marked "Ginevra," wasn't pointing to any of these location. Instead it was in continuous motion--circling counter-clockwise around the face of the clock, over, and over, and over again…..
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Meanwhile, somewhere or sometime in a bright yellow version of the Hogwarts infirmary, Ginny Weasley was in the process of picking herself up from the floor where she had just fallen when the door to the infirmary flew open with a loud bang and a dark haired man wearing crimson robes stalked into the room. Ginny tripped over the too-long yellow night-gown she was wearing and fell to the floor once again.
"Well, Helga?" demanded the man. "Have you interrogated the imposters? How did they get into Hogwarts? Who are they?" He waved his wand about menacingly as he spoke. "Friends of Rowena's, I have no doubt," he muttered darkly.
"Godric! Calm down!" Helga snapped in reply. "And good afternoon to you too. What did you tell the students?"
"Oh, nothing much, you know. Just that a couple of dangerous lunatics posing as students were wandering about the school--probably wreaking havoc and destruction wherever they went." Helga glared at him, and Godric let out a breath in exasperation. "I told them that you were taking care of it and that they should finish their lunches and go to class, of course," he said. "You are taking care of it, aren't you? Who are they?" he asked again.
Helga turned to Harry and Ginny, (who had just managed to get herself situated back in the bed, but was wondering whether it might have been smarter to remain safe on the floor beside it,) and said, "Harry, Ginny, I'd like you to meet Godric Gryffindor. Godric, Harry and Ginny are here visiting us from a faraway land. I forgot to tell you all that they were due to arrive by portkey, early this afternoon." She smiled charmingly at him. "Sorry about that, and all."
Godric stared at the two for a moment. "That explains the odd clothes they were wearing, but how is it that they speak our language, if they're from a distant land? And why are you both still so dirty and bloody and everything?" he added, addressing Harry and Ginny now.
"Er…." Harry looked to Helga for help answering the questions.
"I'd wondered myself about the language," said Helga. "But upon examining them it became clear that a translation charm has somehow been cast upon them, making it possible for them to speak and understand our language. And as to their appearance, well." She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid our young friends are from a violent and war-torn land, Godric. Quite a bit worse even than the problems facing our own land. And they went through an unexpected struggle trying to get to the portkey this morning. I left it in a safe, wooded place, of course, several kilometers away from the fighting that's been going on between the village folk and the goblins, but unfortunately the goblins changed tactics and both the children's home and the portkey ended up right in the middle of the fray. Then, when they finally managed to escape the clutches of a horde of goblins that nearly captured them, there was yet another terrifying struggle with a pack of viscous nifflers who were attracted to the shinyness of the coin that I had charmed to be a portkey." Withdrawing a golden coin from her pocket, Helga tossed it into the air and caught it again before returning it to her pocket and patting it fondly. "Why, if it hadn't been for the children's quick thinking and brave fighting skills, we might have had a pack of nifflers land in our great hall, rather than these two--and we both know what happened the last time a viscous pack of nifflers managed to make their way into the great hall, don't we Godric? You should be thanking them for their bravery and courage. Isn't that right, my dears?" She beamed at Harry and Ginny.
"Er….yes?" said Harry, while Ginny nodded vigorously.
"Downright terrified, the poor dears were by the time they arrived," said Helga. "And then they way you frightened them on top of everything they had been through--well! You should be ashamed of yourself, Godric!"
Godric did look slightly ashamed, but also slightly suspicious, still. "Are you absolutely certain, Helga, that these are the children that you were expecting?"
"Of course I am, Godric," said Helga. "We've been exchanging owls for ages now. I meant to have a welcoming banquet and everything for them--if only this terrible business with Rowena hadn't driven the whole thing completely from my mind."
"Yes, well…" Godric looked slightly distressed for a moment. He looked back at Harry and Ginny. "Welcome to Hogwarts," he said. "I apologize for the former misunderstanding, but I'm sure you understand. Security in these troubled times, and all that." He bowed to them and smiled. "What were your names, again?"
"Harry," said Harry. "And Ginny," he added nodding towards her bed. Ginny allowed herself to relax at last and smiled at them.
"Harry and Ginny, I do hope that you have an enjoyable stay here at Hogwarts. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I have a classroom full of fourth years waiting for me to give them a transfiguration lesson." He bowed once again and exited the room.
Harry turned to Helga the moment the door had closed behind him. "Why did you make up that story?" he asked her. "How do we know you are who you say you are? How can we get back home?"
"Yes, when can we go home?" asked Ginny. "Everyone's going to be terribly worried about us, you see."
Helga sighed and turned to look at them, her expression troubled. "I am sorry, my dears. I had to tell Godric, that story. You see, he would never have believed that you really are who you say you are. He might have even forced you to leave the castle, and I'm afraid it's just not safe for a young witch or wizard to be out in the forest alone--especially in these times. As to when you can go home….well, I'm afraid time travel leaps of more than a few hours are quite impossible--in our time at least. Perhaps in the future they've invented more advanced forms of time travel that you two might know about?"
Helga looked at Harry and Ginny questioningly, but sighed sadly when Ginny said, "No, I mean, I don't know," and Harry shrugged and shook his head no as well.
"No one knows more about time travel than Rowena Ravenclaw, only I'm afraid that Rowena has turned upon us all. Yes… No. I will look into the matter, but it seems that for the time-being, you're stuck here."
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Lord Voldemort inhaled deeply enjoying the feeling of cool air entering his lungs. Even after over three full years of repossessing his body, he still remembered the lack of breathing, lack of feeling, lack of anything during his thirteen years of existence as something less than even a spirit. In fact, his past self was still existing in that form right at this very moment, somewhere deep in the forests of Albania.
Yet here he was, flesh and spirit. Voldemort laughed coldly remembering the utter shock that Lucius had shown when he had entered his study late one night, ten months ago, to find Lord Voldemort already sitting in his desk chair, calmly awaiting his arrival. It had not taken much convincing to gain Lucius' assistance in carrying out his plan.
Still. Voldemort ceased laughing and gripped the armrests of his chair as he considered what had motivated him to take his little trip back in time to enact this new plan. It had been a dark night and he had been feeling exultant. The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix had been compromised and he and a band of his death eaters had destroyed the house and all those who had been sleeping peacefully inside. That werewolf who had been leading a resistance among the other werewolves, Remus Lupin, Tonks and Shacklebolt, who were not only order members, but aurors, and five others, whose names he had not bothered to learn, all killed in one fell swoop. The dark mark was left hovering over the rubble that had once been number twelve, Grimauld Place, and those that resisted him had been taught an important lesson. He had been filled with glee upon returning to the old Riddle house, unable to control his own triumphant laughter, when quite suddenly a deafening siren began screeching throughout the house. Voldemort had abruptly stopped laughing as the death eaters around him had clapped their hands to their ears looking around in alarm and fear. Voldemort hadn't been afraid, he had been enraged, for the alarm could mean only one thing--someone had taken Hufflepuff's cup.
A furious search of his various hiding places had ensued, and as he reached each one his anger, and even his fear, grew stronger. The diary, the ring, the locket, the cup--all gone.
At last he had arrived at a specially protected grove deep within the Dark Forest in Germany where he had had his first lessons in true dark magic, and breathed a sigh of relief to find the golden time-turner, created by Rowena Ravenclaw herself, safe in its hiding place within the trunk of a solid oak tree. Still, Voldemort had remained in the grove, pondering his discoveries. Only three bits of his soul remained now--the time-turner, the snake, Nagini, and the bit within his own body. His soul had already been split seven times--he dared not split it again, for fear of destroying the already fragile remaining bits. A soul was never meant to be split in such a fashion.
And so he pondered. Ravenclaw's time-turner was powerful. Very powerful. It could probably take someone back in time as much as a year--maybe two. And now, imbued with part of his own soul as it was, and with a few dark spells he had heard of, the time turner would be more powerful still. It could take him back perhaps five or even six years into the past--but it could prove costly, very costly. He would only have one chance to get it right--and chances were good that such a trip could destroy the precious bit of soul within the time turner…. But Potter had become powerful in this time. Far more powerful than he had realized if he had succeeded in destroying four of his horcruxes. Costly it may be, but if it meant that he could destroy Potter and Dumbledore early on in the game, when they were least expecting him, if it meant he could ensure that his horcruxes remained safely hidden forever, if it meant victory and endless power, then the risk was more than worth it.
And so Voldemort had made his preparations and plans, flipped the time-turner six times, and arrived in the year 1992 with a thirst, stronger than ever before, for revenge.
And now it was nearly complete. Potter was dead. Dumbledore would soon be dead. "And the world," Voldemort whispered, "Will soon be mine."
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"Ginny," Harry whispered. She was thrashing about a bit as she lay asleep on the bed next to his, but didn't wake. It was late in the afternoon, and Harry could see the sun beginning to sink low in the sky through the infirmary windows. Earlier, Helga had led Harry and Ginny outside where they had used the available toilet facilities, then brought them back inside the castle to two separate rooms where hot baths and a change of clothing had been prepared for each of them. Afterwards Helga had led them back to the infirmary telling them to rest up a bit, as she had a potions class to attend to, and that she would be back in a few hours to discuss what their options were.
Now Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed and crossed to Ginny's bed. She continued to thrash about and her eyelashes fluttered madly as her eyes moved back and forth beneath her closed eyelids. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. "Ginny," he said. She gasped and sat up abruptly, looking around in confused panic. "Ginny," Harry said again. Her eyes landed on Harry's face and she let out a shuddering breath and clutched on to his arm. "Shhhh," Harry whispered. "It's okay." Ginny took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before she shook her head slightly and focused on Harry's face.
"Hi," she said.
"Hey," replied Harry. "Bad dream?"
"Just--yeah. A little. I'm okay now," said Ginny. She exhaled again and smiled at him.
"Good. Listen, Ginny, I've been thinking about, you know, all this--stuff--that's been happening, and well, I'm kind of worried." Ginny scooted over on the bed and he sat down on the edge of it, then leaned in to whisper to her. "How do we know that Hufflepuff really is who she says she is?"
"I don't know, Harry, she seems pretty trustworthy to me," Ginny said. Then she smiled sadly. "Of course, I can't really be trusted to be able to tell who's trustworthy, can I?"
Harry patted her hand in a comforting way, then allowed his hand to rest on top of hers absentmindedly. "The thing is," he said, "Even if Hufflepuff really is Hufflepuff, or even if she really is trustworthy, how can we know that this isn't all some big trick of Voldemort's? Or even of Slytherin's? Where is Slytherin anyway? Shouldn't he be around somewhere? I just--I'm worried, Gin."
Ginny remained silent for a moment. "What do you think we should do?" she asked finally.
"I don't know," Harry replied. "Maybe we shouldn't stay here. Maybe this whole time-warp thing is only real inside the castle. Or maybe not. I just, I don't know."
"What do you think is going on with Rowena Ravenclaw?" asked Ginny. "Why did Helga say that she turned on everyone?"
Harry shook his head slowly. "I haven't really studied about the founders, but Binns only said anything about Slytherin having any sort of disagreement with the other founders, because he didn't want to admit muggle-borns. That was why he ended up creating the chamber and everything."
"Helga said that she's the one that knows the most about time travel," said Ginny. "I think we should find out what happened with her."
"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, we should." He leaned his head back against the headboard of Ginny's bed and stared at the ceiling. "Only…Helga said herself that time travel this far into the past is supposed to be impossible. If this is some trick of Voldemort's, or Slytherin's, or whoever, we need to know."
"Okay," said Ginny slowly. "So, let's do what you said earlier. Leave the castle. Even if it is a trick of Slytherin's or of You-know-who's, they wouldn't be able to make it last for very long, right? I mean, charms for that sort of thing are very complicated."
Harry shrugged. "I suppose they must be," he said.
"So--we'll head to the village, and if we get there and everything's still all queer, we can try flooing the Burrow." She thought for a moment. "Do you suppose they have floo powder in this time?"
"Dunno," said Harry. He sat up straight again. "Okay, that sounds like a good plan to me. Should we go now?"
"I suppose we could," said Ginny. She looked apprehensive. "Only--it's going to be dark soon. Helga said that it's very dangerous outside of the castle."
"She said the forest is very dangerous," pointed out Harry. "We certainly won't be heading into the forest. Still--I'm not entirely certain I know the way to the village, and you're right, it is going to be dark. Perhaps we should wait until morning."
Ginny nodded. "First thing tomorrow, then."
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End of chapter three--chapter four coming soon. Please Review! (Also--I'm curious. Tell me what you think is going to happen!)