The basilisk's huge body let out a loud scraping sound as it began moving around the chamber.
The scraping sound silenced when the basilisk stopped a hundred feet or so in front of the group of wizards. If Harry hadn't seen it, he might not have believed it. As if, to defy all laws of physics, proportions, logic, the monster's head rose to the roof of the cavern. Easily a hundred feet in the air.
"Why have you awakened me, mortals?" The basilisk hissed as it looked down at the wizards.
Some of the cloaked men were visibly shaking as they stared at the monster, some refused to look altogether.
"We seek your guidance, oh great one, so that Britannia may triumph over her enemies!" The man with the red stone hissed passionately.
The basilisk hissed in displeasure at the man. "Foolish mortal, I care naught for your petty kingdoms and domains. You mortals have asked that of me many times before and now, I grow bored of it. Perhaps I should make it the last time I'm asked that..." The snake hissed threateningly. It removed itself from the roof and began moving, stalking itself prey.
Some of the men let out whimpers of terror but many held firm. None pulled their wand.
The man with the red stone got on his knees and bowed his head. He gestured to the rest of Order to do the same. Slowly, the men bent down and dirtied their knees on the cavern floor.
"We offer you our humblest apologies, oh great one, we shall not ask you again." The man with the red stone hissed slowly.
The basilisk stopped itself halfway between the roof and the group of men. "I grow tired of this. The next mortal to disturb my sleep for an unworthy cause shall meet and end in my stomach." The basilisk threatened.
Slowly, the basilisk began moving again. At first, it looked like it was moving back towards its hole. Quicker than Harry could see, it lunged into the crowd and grabbed one of the members.
There were shouts of terror as those surrounding the snake jumped to get far away.
"Kneel to your God!" The man with the red stone ordered. Almost begrudgingly, the members who had yelped and fled, bent their knees and bowed their heads once again. They listened to the cracking sound of their fellow Order-member's bones. None raised a wand to try and save him, however.
Harry, however, watched the behemoth of a monster with awe. There weren't many people or things that could do that to him. But as Harry watched the basilisk slowly chew up and swallow the man, he wondered about his place in the world. What was being Headboy, a Potter, or even a wizard compared to that monster?
Suddenly, Harry felt the connection reopen in his mind along with the pain that came with it.
"I shall watch you with great interest... Know that it's a dangerous thing to disappoint me, little snake.." The basilisk spoke in his mind. Harry felt the connection wither away, once again, leaving him no time to respond. Though even if he did have time, Harry was in no mental condition to say a single thing to the monster.
The basilisk lifted its head from where its prey had once stood and stared at the group. Harry idly wondered if it was still hungry. Fortunately, it seemed to have had its fill already as it finally turned back towards its hole.
No one spoke a word as they watched the beast slowly pull its long, long, body into the hole. Easily 200 feet long, it took a few moments.
Harry along with many others let out a small sigh of relief as they heard the loud scratch of stone moving against stone.
"Do not pity our fallen brother, for he was chosen by our God himself! To be sacrificed to the supreme one is an honor of which there is none greater!" The man with the red stone hissed passionately.
"All hail The Serpent of Stone," the group, along with Harry, chorused.
"Now, my brothers and sisters, there is much to discuss and little time to do it, let us begin." The man with the red stone hissed.
The men in gold masks departed their leader's flanks. The copper and bronze masks did the same and split off into groups around a gold mask. The Silver masks, like always, stayed off the side, never moving and never speaking.
Harry and one other wood masked member moved to the member in a gold mask which depicted a lion fighting a group of men. Including Harry, there were about seven members in total.
A table and chairs were summoned and the group sat down.
"Why has the war in the western provinces not been won yet? Last we met, you swore that the Yankee traitors would be dead and desecrated by summer's end. But last I heard, they are pushing back!" The man with the gold mask hissed angrily.
The four members with bronze masks looked at each other. They likely knew each other's real identities, but Harry did not. The other member with a wooden mask was likely in the same boat.
Of course, Harry had strong suspicions about who one of them may be. Harry's father was an Arch Warlock in the Royal Wizarding Force and he was also a parseltongue, though few knew that. If this table or "sub-group" was for military affairs then it would only make sense that one of these men were Harry's father. Harry had only a vague idea about who the other three may be
Harry's father likely knew the same regarding one of the wood masks, considering parseltongue was a genetic ability. The two had never spoken to each other about it though so Harry couldn't be sure.
Eventually one of the men spoke up. "Archon, how do you fight an army that has no land to defend? Last we met we had secured everything East of the Appalachians. We had figured that with most of the insurgents having lost their homeland, their reason to fight, they would be demoralized and flee or surrender." The man hissed
"I care not for any of your petty excuses! I wish to know why his imperial majesty's armies are fleeing like cowards!" The Archon hissed angrily.
Another man was quick with an excuse. "It's not our fault! With the Appalachians at our backs, the Yankees didn't surrender as they should have. They attacked en masse. More witches, wizards, and muggles than our intelligence ever showed them having." The man hissed before looking over to another table that Harry presumed to be for intelligence gathering.
"Few of our kind were lost, thank Merlin, but half our Muggle army was lost-" the man was cut off.
"Crucio," the Archon snarled in English.
The man, previously speaking, let out a shout of pain as he fell to the ground. The spell only lasted a few seconds but Harry personally knew how long those few seconds could feel.
"What is your plan to fix it?" The Archon asked, calmer than he had been.
"We need more men, muggles especially but magicals too. We're fighting with shaky supply lines and little men. But even with that, we were winning the war easily. The Yankee wizards pale in comparison to us and our magic. With more men, I'm confident the war will soon be over." One member hissed confidently.
Harry wondered if it were really so simple. Perhaps they had been winning before, but were their recent losses due only to lack of manpower and supply lines? Or were they due to something else entirely?
The Archon nodded slowly. He didn't respond for a few moments as he thought. "Very well, 150 wizards shall be drafted from the continent. As for muggles? You can have as many you want, Merlin knows there's enough of them." The Archon hissed before letting out a small chuckle.
The other men at the table chuckled lightly too but sounded forced.
"We also believe there to be a spy, a traitor, in his imperial majesty's armies." One of the bronze masked members said slowly before glancing around the table for support.
"It's Warlock George Wyman... The fact that a Yankee halfbreed like him was ever promoted to anything besides a grunt is a disgrace." One of the masked men hissed angrily.
"And what do you accuse him of? Besides his obvious flaws, of course." The Archon asked patiently.
The member, only recently recovered and still twitching, spoke up. "His family and he have always lived in British America. He's not the only Yankee in our military, however, most sent their families here or to the continent. He didn't."
Another of the bronze members picked up "It's our belief that his wife and him likely sympathize with the cause... Unfortunately, the dirty traitor has wormed his way into the heart of the emperor so we have no way to act against him. The war can not be won with the disgusting halfbreed still around."
The Archon remained silent for a moment before glancing over to the members wearing silver masks. "The Emperor is busy with other, grander, more important things than a rat in his army. If he were concerned by the war in British America, he would've seen Wyman for who he was in a second. Don't waste the gesture of faith the Emperor has given you. As for the rat? He will be taken care of," he hissed simply.
"And Germany? Any change?" He continued after a second.
"They still appear to be ramping up border security and have been since June. Of course, we have been doing the same, it's all to due with the triwizard tournament." One of the men hissed.
The Archon nodded dismissively before standing. Harry along with the other members stood with him. The table and chairs dissolved away.
"If the war in our Western provinces is not over by our next meeting, there will be inquiries. None of us want that, do we?" The Archon asked before glancing over to the members in silver masks.
With the threat having been made the Archon left in the direction of the man with the red stone.
Awkwardly the members congregated in front of the man with red stone once again.
"Thank you for coming, my family, my friends. Britannia could not stand as tall as she does without you. Her enemies are numerous and unyielding and without our proud Order to protect her, they would surely devour us all." The man with the red stone hissed.
"All hail the serpent of stone," the room chorused.
"Now go, all hail Britannia," the man with the red stone ordered.
"All hail Britannia," the room chorused once again.
Harry slowly walked back the way he had come. Harry looked and saw as members slowly dissolved into little corners, passageways, and even into one of the snake effigy's mouth.
"Ahh, young Harry Potter. Why don't we talk for a minute? I'm heading this direction as well." The man with the red stone requested. Harry had to consciously stop himself from jumping. He hadn't felt or even heard the man come up to him until he was right at his side.
"I would love to, High Archon," Harry responded. He didn't ask how the man knew his name, Harry was sure that if anyone knew all the member's identities, it was him.
The pair walked in silence for a moment before the High Archon began to speak. "That's the third time you've seen the basilisk, correct? I still remember my first time like it was just yesterday, nearly fainted at the sight of it. You, however, seemed to hold your own remarkably well for one so young." The man commented.
Harry didn't know how to respond to the praise so he remained silent. Perhaps that would reveal what the man wanted. Harry doubted he simply wanted to speak to him.
"You're following in your family's footsteps, right? Your unflinching attitude will serve you well with that, I should think... Tell me, did anything else happen with the basilisk? Perhaps visions... or voices... or perhaps even its voice, anything at all?" The High Archon finally asked.
Harry cringed at the obviousness of the man's questioning but didn't comment on it. "Should I have?" Harry asked calmly. If anyone knew anything about the creature, it was this man. Harry would get answers of his own in exchange if the man so desired it.
"Perhaps... perhaps not... the basilisk is an ancient and powerful being. Most don't even know it's here. Those who do, assume Salazar Slytherin hatched or created it somehow. Our Order, however, believes the basilisk to be older, much older perhaps. We, as mere mortals, could not even begin to imagine the basilisk's motivations or- but I digress." The man hissed as sheepishly as the language would allow.
The two walked in silence for another few moments. "Have you ever heard voices or seen visions then?" Harry asked, curious.
The man didn't respond instantly, perhaps pausing for dramatic effect. "Only once, when I was a young lad like yourself. The basilisk showed me a vision and told me of the future. The future was horrifying..." the man revealed slowly.
Harry's eyebrows rose to his hair. The basilisk really could see the future then... Not only see it but understand it and act on it. No Seer could do that consistently if at all.
"You changed the future, High Archon?" Harry asked, momentarily forgetting himself.
The man with the red stone didn't seem to mind, as he let out a quiet chuckle. "Everyone changes the future, dear boy. Every choice or action you take affects it, you just can't always predict what those may be. I simply directed the river of time in a better direction... But I don't think now is the time for such a discussion, forgive me." The man said.
Harry got the message. "I'm not telling you anything more until you tell me what you heard."
He was cut off.
Harry quickly thought over his options. The man clearly knew the basilisk had said or shown something to Harry. Why else single him out? He couldn't lie and give him nothing. But really what was there even to give? The basilisk hadn't revealed the future to him as it had allegedly done before. Not completely certain about the idea, Harry decided to go with the truth.
"It told me it saw my future. That it would be watching me and that it would be dangerous to disappoint it. Gave me quite the headache as well." Harry spoke honestly.
The men walked in silence until finally reaching Harry's exit to Gryffindor Tower. Harry glanced between the man and the stairs hidden behind a wall as he awkwardly stood around.
"If the basilisk has chosen you to be its champion, then something great awaits you in your future, as it did in mine. Be careful, young Potter, your journey is likely to be more dangerous than anything you've ever faced..." the man finally spoke.
"But what have I been chosen for? It only spoke to me once, it didn't give me some grand quest or mission, and regardless I haven't agreed to do anything." Harry said, almost irritated. He had enough on his plate this year already. He didn't need some future-telling snake to add more to it.
"I haven't a clue. I'm sorry, I wish I could be of more assistance. But there's little we know about the basilisk and less that it reveals to us directly. As for agreeing? I'm sorry but you have little choice in that. The moment it spoke to you, you were chosen." The High Archon said, seeming almost earnest, perhaps understanding.
"That seems a bit unfair doesn't it-"
"Careful, Harry. The basilisk is our protector, it asks very little from us and gives us so much in return. As a member of our Order, you should feel honored, not irritated." The man scolded lightly.
Harry scowled under his mask but refrained from saying anything. He needed to remember where he was and who he was speaking to so cavalierly like.
Perhaps sensing the boy's annoyance the man continued. "I am glad you trust me as much as I trust you. But you must understand you cannot tell anyone else about this, anyone in our Order, I mean. Jealousy, fear, and greed are all powerful motivators..." the man trailed off, perhaps thinking of his own past.
"I won't, High Archon, I understand," Harry told the man honestly. Who did he have to tell? Besides he had barely wanted to tell this man, let alone anyone else...
"Very well. I'll leave you now, I know you have class in the morning." The man said before leaving the next second. He got what he needed, no further need to talk to an initiate.
...
Harry let out a soft groan as he rose from his softer bed. School was ramping up already. Two weeks in and Harry could practically feel the load getting heavier with each passing day.
"What time is it?" A girl asked, yawning.
"The sun's just rising, Lucy. Prefects won't catch you if you go now." Harry replied as he stood and looked out a window in his room.
Harry heard the sheets shuffling and thought perhaps that Lucy might be leaving. Instead, she came and wrapped her arms around Harry from his back.
"So what does this mean? I mean you and Angelina... but now that this has happened you surely realize you can't stay with her-" Lucy began rambling before being cut off by Harry.
Harry turned around her arms before gently pushing her away. "We'll talk about it later, love. Just go before the prefects catch you here." Harry tried once again.
Lucy wasn't deterred. "But you're Headboy. If you told them I was your girlfriend what could they do?" She asked, trying to get physically closer to Harry once again.
Harry managed to stop the unconscious grimace from forming. "That's an abuse of power. You surely wouldn't ask me to do that, would you?" Harry asked, temporarily buying into her games.
Lucy looked like she wanted to argue more but with Harry almost physically shoving her of the room she didn't have much of a chance.
"Okay, we'll talk later. Bye Harry!" Lucy exclaimed before kissing him on the cheek.
Harry sighed in relief as he shut the door behind her.
Lucy Hurst. She was a sixth year Harry had seen hanging around Fred and George. He hadn't meant to sleep with her. Honestly. He had only meant to butter her up, perhaps flirt a little. But one thing led to the next and before he knew it their clothes were off and they were in his room.
Harry cringed at the recent memory of his morning. The last thing he needed was a love-struck half-blood in the sixth year. Or... perhaps it was exactly what he needed. Harry wasn't sure yet. He would have to think over what to do with her a bit longer.
Harry was slow to get ready and make his way to the Great Hall. He was still quite sore from training the day before. Harry idly glanced up and down the Gryffindor table. Obviously, he ignored Lucy's attempts to grab his attention as he walked by.
Harry was pleased to see everyone in the first year eating their fill. It had been a rocky start for the Muggle-Borns this year. There had been a boy who was quite fond of making Muggle-Borns miserable. He was quite popular as well it seemed. But Harry was happy to see that Euphemia seemed to have calmed him and the rest of the first year's thirst for dominance. It was a first step for her.
Harry sat down next to Angelina, near the front of the table, where his group always sat.
Neither said much besides brief pleasantries for a few minutes.
"Harry?" Angelina eventually asked, almost tentatively.
"Yeah?"
"Did you-"
"Harry! Have you seen this?!" Lyra practically shouted as she shoved a newspaper into his hands. He hadn't seen her in the common room or the hallways. Was she right behind him? Or had she just run here.
"My father sent it to me this morning- read the headline!" She continued energetically.
"Warlock Heroically Dies Defending Empire"
Below it read. "Since the Rebellion began, the Yankee forces have suffered continual crippling defeat after crippling defeat. The Imperial Army is yet to face a defeat against the traitors. But like rats, the Yankee 'forces' have continued to flee capture. They have given up any semblance of honorable warfare.
A report released only yesterday shows that a force of 10 Yankee wizards snuck into the Warlock's camp. It was a dirty assassination attempt, an action which any true British citizen would find utterly repulsive and never even consider. Outnumbered 10-1, Warlock Wyman, like the true British wizard he was, stood his ground. Nine Yankee bodies were recovered next to the Warlock's own.
Readers, I ask you to please join our paper in sending our heartfelt apologies to the Warlock's family still in war-torn British America. To the Warlock's family, we beg of you to join us here in the motherland. Come home and be celebrated as the heroes you are!' The article read.
"So? Why are you so happy about this? This is terrible news." Harry asked.
Lyra watched Harry blankly for a few moments. "Cmon Harry don't be like that. Besides the half-blood, we're all in the know. My father has been complaining about Warlock Wyman for weeks. I'm positive your father has been as well." She finally sat down, looking at Harry annoyed.
Angelina joined in the conversation, ignoring the earlier insult. "What did he do? Why do your fathers not like him?"
Lyra smiled a toothy grin before leaning in to whisper.
"He's a bloody traitor, Angelina. He's not even British, he's a damn Yank! We ought to have had all the dirty rats rounded up and shot as soon as the war started. But we didn't, this is how our generosity and mercy are rewarded." Lyra said angrily, holding the paper up for Angelina to see.
"What do you mean? If he was a traitor, why did the Yankees kill him?" Angelina asked, looking at Harry in confusion.
"Angelina, your father's a Sorcerer in the army, isn't he? You should know better. How exactly do ten Yankee wizards, all of them dumber than bricks, no doubt, sneak into a fully operated military camp? They do all that without alerting anyone? They say he killed nine? Must've been quite the battle, how come no one was alerted then? How come-"
"Lyra... careful," Harry warned.
Lyra opened her mouth to argue but upon seeing the look Harry was shooting her, promptly shut it.
Angelina must've had the good sense to not continue that discussion as she didn't ask any more questions. The group's breakfast continued without any more dangerous topics. Hector rose from his sleep and joined them at some point.
"You shouldn't speak so freely like that. Remember where we are, Lyra." Harry warned quietly as he walked beside the girl on the way to their first class. Hector and Angelina had continued on ahead at a faster pace.
"Yeah yeah I know. But Harry, those rules don't apply to us. We're no common half-bloods. Merlin, we're not even common Pureblood Lords." Lyra said with a scoff.
Harry's eyebrows creased in confusion and a slight bit of apprehension. "Even if that claim were true, which it's not, it would certainly be untrue for Angelina."
"As long as she didn't tell anyone else, she'd be fine, probably," Lyra replied with a tone that suggested she wouldn't care either way.
"And us, you?" Harry followed up.
"I'm certain that some mutual… slithery… friends could help us out. A certain Or-" Lyra replied with a smirk.
Harry glanced up and down the hall before roughly pulling Lyra into a nearby classroom.
"Ow ow ow! You're hurting me Har-"
"Are you stupid?" Harry asked, certain he had misheard her.
"Ow! let go of me!" Lyra cried out.
Harry refused to let go, instead grabbing her free hand before she could reach her wand. He roughly shoved and held them against a nearby wall.
"Is this what you're into now, Harry?" Lyra managed to tease through a grimace of pain.
"This isn't funny, Lyra. You know what will happen to you if you continue to speak your mind so cavalierly.
You're my cousin and I love you. It's for that reason I've stood by and helped you all these years. But I won't be dragged down with you for some sort of death wish." Harry warned, angrier than he had been in a while.
"Oh shut up. You've stood by me because of who my father is, because of who I might become. You're incapable of loving anyone. Now get off me or summon us a bed." Lyra bit back, surprising Harry. In his surprise, she managed to get her arms free.
Harry stood, momentarily stunned by her words, as he watched her slowly rub her arms. After a brief moment or two, Lyra looked back at Harry expectantly. "Cmon, let's go, we're going to be late."