Chapter Eighteen
"Where have you been recently? I can hardly find you outside of classes," Vincent asked during breakfast the next morning as Harry sat down in the place reserved for him.
Cedric and Alec's insistence on understanding Harry's methods and improving their own skills had taken up what little free time he had outside of classes, homework, lessons with Queenie, and studying with Helena. If he wasn't so pleased with his improved dueling prowess thanks to the meetings with the Hufflepuffs, Harry would almost be upset that he had so little time to spare concerning himself with his father's machinations.
"He's been mingling with Hufflepuffs," Zabini said, once again proving he knew everyone's business and was willing to share it whether you wanted it common knowledge or not. (Harry was a bit curious as to where he got his information and if he already knew of Cedric and Alec if it was necessary to introduce the MacFusty heir to him...)
"A Hufflepuff, Harrison? Really? Was it Abbot?"
And of course Helena would choose that precise moment to show up. "No," he gave in knowing that between Blaise and Helena he wasn't going to be able to keep Draco and Vince from nosing their way into his dueling practices. "Diggory and I have been sparring. It is nothing incredibly important." (He thought it was best to keep Alec's involvement out of it for the time being. People tended to react with either awe or skepticism whenever Harry mentioned knowing him and neither would be useful in quickly moving past this topic of discussion.)
"Cedric Diggory?" Helena grinned. "Oh he's positively dreamy. A soft dom, definitely."
"Cousin!" Nott shouted, scandalized.
As always everyone else ignored Helena's strange comments. By Nott's increasingly skittish and haunted looks no one truly wanted to know what she was trying to say. Harry felt a little bad for the boy honestly.
But in another way, Nott was annoying himself and could deal with his own family understandings. "How'd your practical go?" Harry turned to the sixth year and changed the conversation.
The grin he gave her was filled with a tad too much teeth but was pleasant enough. "I got an O, you beautiful creature you. Professor Sprout says that if I keep up such improvements she'll even write me a letter of recommendation next year."
Harry nodded, pleased. Helena had managed to scrape together an Acceptable thanks to Harry's interference during her OWL year thus getting into the NEWT level Herbology class she would need to be an Unspeakable. With their continued correspondence-- and Harry's near instinctive understanding of herbology and uncomplicated explanations-- she had been prepared going into sixth year managing Acceptables on all of her papers and practical work with very little additional help from him. This had been her first Outstanding on a practical assignment and boded well for her NEWT grade next year.
"Well done," he said, just as Parkinson came hustling over.
"Did you hear?" she gasped in an eager fashion, not even bothering to catch her breath before sharing her news.
"Hear what?" Draco piped up in excitement. (He adored gossip even if he'd rather be the center of it.)
"Lockhart's been petrified?" Goyle muttered under his breath to the guffaws of the nearby boys.
"Hear, hear," Helena picked up a goblet in toast.
Parkinson scowled and jutted her chin out in the same way Draco used to do all the time. "No! He is still perfectly well, thank you very much."
"What's with all of the hustle and bustle, then?"
"The groundskeeper has been taken to Azkaban!"
A flurry of excited whispers erupted from their table and spread outwards. Draco and Vince both glanced at Harry whose face was sure to be showing his horror. "Hagrid?" he whispered. 'That makes no sense. Hagrid is the kindest person I know. Even his aura was indicative of his gentle soul! There was no way the man had done anything to deserve an Azkaban sentence.'
When it looked like Harry would say nothing else, Draco ventured to interrogate their classmate. "Why would they send him to Azkaban prison?"
Although uncouth and perpetually disheveled, the keeper of the keys was among the naively nicest people Draco had ever met, thanks to Harry's tea times with him on weekends. His boarhound was also temperate, if a bit drippy. They both could use a few cleaning charms and the less that was said about the man's house, the better, but Draco had not known of anything that could possibly lead to the man being dragged to Azkaban.
"That's just the thing," Parkinson practically beamed under Draco's attention. "The Ministry thinks he's to blame for the petrifications! The Minister of Magic himself escorted him off school grounds just now!"
At that statement the volume of the Great Hall skyrocketed. Harry hadn't even realized that Parkinson was being uncharacteristically loud but knew that within moments everyone would know of Hagrid's accusation. "That's ludicrous," Vince frowned. "I've never even seen the groundskeeper use magic before and he rarely comes within the castle besides. What proof do they have that he is the culprit?"
The girl shrugged, something that was noted by Daphne who cleared her throat nearby. At the reminder Parkinson flushed and stood up straighter. "They didn't say but your father was here. He was talking with the Headmaster. I think Dumbledore's in trouble."
At the mention of Lucius Malfoy Harry grew suspicious. Draco, in turn, perked up. "My father was here? Whatever for?"
"Your father serves on the committee that oversees Hogwarts. He was probably here on official business," Harry muttered. His mind was whirling. Hagrid was arrested, Dumbledore was probably suspended due to the staff's lack of results, the Minister was directly involved now... His father might have gone too far and Harry was still no closer to discovering the monster's machinations if he had any.
He stood and nodded once to Parkinson in thanks. "I need to research."
There were several groans from the nearby slytherins but Harry ignored them all. "What could you possibly be researching now?" Draco whined, despite following him with Zabini on his tail. "The travel restrictions are still in play, you know."
"Everyone's much too occupied with Dumbledore's suspension and Hagrid's arrest to even care about that silly curfew right now," Harry said over his shoulder as he quickly strode out of the Great Hall.
Still, he did bee-line for a side-corridor that cut around most of the larger paths that were sure to be patrolled by Filch and those staff not currently at dinner. (Snape was notably absent much to Harry's displeasure. Time away from the irritable potion's master did not make the heart grow fonder in his case and during their first class back from break the man had deducted ten points from him for disrupting the class with his 'brooding silence', whatever the hell that meant.) They had just exited on the left-side of the first corridor when Harry froze at the words painted onto the corridor walls in a macabre fashion. "'Her body will lie in the chamber forever'," Blaise read at his side, having followed him (or more likely Draco) when they left the Great Hall. "What?"
Harry didn't understand either. It made absolutely no sense. His father's other victims were obviously chosen due to their vexing natures (no matter how small the annoyance). But Harry hadn't really found great animosity with any particular girl all year. Even his interactions with Granger were pretty calm all things considered. And sure he thought women as a whole were terrifying creatures worthy to be regarded with caution but again, he had none that he had any specific strife with. "All students are to report to their dormitories immediately," called Professor McGonagall's voice magically cast through the corridors. "All staff, report to the first floor corridor."
"Harry," Draco hissed, "We have to go now. We're not supposed to even be here."
He glared at the blond. Without saying a single thing he cast a disillusionment charm. It was the first advanced charm he had self-studied and it showed with his nonverbal casting and how seamlessly he disappeared into the background. Draco swore but quickly followed suit. Zabini had just cast his own spell when the bustle of staff appeared from around the corner.
Harry watched the proceedings with ever-growing confusion. Why would his father allow things to go so far over stupid children? Hogwarts was going to close and the monster was going to just let it happen? This seemed more like a punishment than the acts of an overprotective parent. Why else would he continue to attack people right after they had crossed Harry? And what the hell did Ginevra Weasley have anything to do with anything? Harry hadn't even known there was another Weasley member at Hogwarts!
When the trio finally left the mass of staff they were just in time to see Seamus Finnigan disappear around the corner, no doubt having heard the news. Harry could hardly care as they hurried to the dungeons. Only when they were safely in their dorm room did he begin pacing, voicing his confusion aloud. "I don't understand," he growled in frustration. "Why did he take Ginevra Weasley?"
Zabini, the only one left to hear Harry's musings since Draco and Goyle had left to find Vince, was as lackadaisical as ever. He didn't move from his elegant sprawl across Draco's bed. "Maybe he took offense to her poem."
"What?" Harry snapped, pacing more furiously in his consternation.
"You know, 'His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad, His hair as dark as a blackboard...' Your love poem in February was from the littlest Weasley."
Harry's frown deepened. He hadn't even noticed she existed honestly so the fact that she had written him a love poem was suspect. But if Blaise said it was from her he was probably right. The italian may have been the most infuriating being in all of creation, but he wasn't a liar. His trade depended too much on his credibility for him to ever even barter in half-truths. And those in Slytherin house were not the people one wanted to cross idly. If Blaise said the poem had been from her than it had. (Although it was a might suspect that he had given up such information freely and without any particular prompting on Harry's part.) Vince came in swiftly followed by Goyle and Draco as Harry made yet another circuit past the door in his frantic plotting.
Even adding the Valentine's Day incident, nothing still made much sense about involving the Weasley girl. Not much of anything his father had been doing was making since, if Harry was being honest. "Why didn't he just call for me?"
"Is there a particular reason you expected to be summoned by the man you killed eleven years ago?" Blaise asked, his gaze sharp and evaluating.
Harry growled through clenched teeth and kept pacing. He hadn't killed his Father, not truly. A monster of his strength would not have vanished for long. Besides, it had been an accident. It's not like he had known what he was doing. "And they're going to send that fool Lockheart of all people to go and retrieve her."
"He is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Goyle pointed out, just as unhelpful as Blaise in that moment.
"Funny that, rather than going off to defend us against the Dark Arts, he went back to his office to 'prepare'," Blaise scoffed, "As if every single one of his escapades depicted in his books had the man with anything more than his wand."
"I sincerely doubt Gilderoy Lockhart capable of defending an entire village from a pack of werewolves for three nights straight," Draco scoffed.
"Or convince a coven of hags to release a host of stolen children whilst being a captive himself," Goyle added.
Harry plopped down in a completely unrefined manner onto his bed and gripped his hair tightly. He needed to do something. Anything. The longer he stood here the closer the Ministry were to his father and if the monster was in the school but hadn't done anything about the Headmaster, he couldn't be in any state to protect himself.
His father was in danger.
His father needed him!
Harry stood with resolution. "I'm going to find Lockhart."
Draco and Vincent were immediately on their feet. "Teachers are patrolling every corridor. The Aurors have been called and the Minister is sure to be here within the hour. How do you expect to find that daft fool before this place is crawling with the Ministry?"
Harry shook his head. "Zabini said he was going to his office. If I hurry, I can get the location of the Chamber from him and go myself."
"Do you really think that he seriously knows--"
"Of course not, but we're no closer to finding it either and I have to warn him!" Harry's voice cracked at the end of his sentence, his voice raised in borderline hysteria.
He was losing control and he knew it. But Harry had to do something. Lockhart was a pretentious fopp but his clothes indicated he was much more than an airhead and those stories he wrote about were traceable to actual events. Even if the man couldn't properly duel, he might be clever enough to have discovered the Chamber of Secrets entrance-- he had been a Ravenclaw. And if he knew where it was it was only a matter of time before their esteemed Minister found his way down with a battalion of Aurors to attack his father.
No, Harry needed to get to the man first and warn him about the danger. He couldn't lose his father a second time. He couldn't go back to a life where the Dursleys was the legacy he had to look forward to.
"How do you even expect to get out of the common room? Half of the house is downstairs and the door is being guarded by the prefects on both sides," Vince continued.
"Oh!"
Harry turned to Draco at the blond's exclamation. He had a beginnings of a grin on his face. "I know how we can get out without being noticed."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "We?"
He sniffed once and lifted his chin into the air. "Of course. I will aid you in your undertaking. Vince, Greg, and Blaise can stay here and run interference so that the others don't notice our absence."
Vince was frowning. "Why you specifically?"
"For a number of reasons. First, I'm ranked highest in our year only second to Harry so any of the lower ranked students wouldn't dare mention anything to the prefects. Second because I know the most concealment charms out of us three and most importantly because I'm the closest to size with Harry and this plan allows for very little space for height or bulk. Which means you and Goyle are out on principle. Besides, Harry can't go alone. He's already chomping at the bit to go and might be a little hasty on the draw. We don't need him accidentally cursing a professor."
Harry was going to voice he'd rather have Vince at his side until Draco mentioned the lack of space they'd have. That's when it clicked. His father's cloak! He had completely forgotten about the thing. Again! It was a rare item that was probably worth more than the Slytherin fortune and he kept just banishing it into the confines of his trunk. His father would be disappointed with how Harry was treating their family heirloom. "Draco's right," he acquiesced.
Vincent stared at him for a moment before he nodded. "Then we will play interference here."
"Now wait a minute! Who said I was content to do as Potter commands?"
"Oh shut it Blaise. Stop acting like you're not going to do it anyway then beg me for details to barter with later," Draco snorted in a moment of uncouthness that would probably horrify his mother.
Blaise raised his hands in defeat. "You have seen to the heart of me and for that I expect these details that have been promised."
"You will know only what needs to be known," Harry cut off whatever answer Draco would give. "We are not puppets in your information network."
Blaise smirked but didn't speak again. Harry thought it was a might suspicious that he was being so agreeable about the whole situation but left it be. They were running out of time and even if Lockhart was incompetent, the Aurors would not be so helpful and would get somewhere with their frantic search of the castle. In fact, they had started their search in the dungeon much to many of the Slytherin's consternation. Although they were looking for Slytherin's secret chamber it was obvious to everyone present that if the entrance was in the dungeons then the house of serpents would have found it long before any Aurors could ever hope to, as the serpents knew every crook and cranny of the maze-like dungeons.
The plan, as it turned out, went off without a hitch. Harry had no complaints even, once Blaise had created a rather efficient distraction in releasing information about a previously speculated upon prank that had occurred in the fourth year's boys dorm previously that had remained unsolved. Until that moment that is. The hexes and threats that sprung up from that particular bit of truth had even the Prefects running in to break it up. Draco and Harry slipped out under the invisibility cloak without incident and were down the hall and heading towards the Defense classroom without further incident. (Although they saw two groups of Aurors on their way.)
When they entered the defense classroom Harry whipped off the cloak and folded it up and stuffed it in his pocket in quick succession before heading up the stairs at the front of the classroom that led to the man's office. What they found was a tad unusual. "Weasley?" Harry said, confused at the mass of Gryffindors within the office.
The redhead whipped around and immediately zeroed on Draco. "Malfoy!" he growled, ignoring Harry.
"Hey Potter," the dark-skinned boy waved a few feet away.
"Thomas?" Draco asked.
"Finnigan!" Seamus concluded with a smile.
Three sets of eyes turned to him, but were quickly turned back to the Professor trying to edge to the side. "What are you doing here?" Ron hissed at them as he pointed his wand at Lockhart.
Harry would be the first to hex the idiot if the opportunity was to arise but he couldn't help but think that wasn't the reason why Ron was here, wand drawn. He sighed. Of course he was going after his sister. The fool. "I need to know where the Chamber of Secrets is."
Finnigan snorted and gestured his wand to the professor who was by now scowling at them. "This idiot doesn't know where it is. He's making himself scarce now that he's actually useful."
"Why are you threatening a Professor?" Draco asked.
The three gryffindors glanced from one to another before Thomas began to explain. Although the man's duplicitous nature wasn't very surprising, his idiocy was. Lockhart had actually thought that he would be able to get away with obliviating three students within the halls of Hogwarts (let alone a teacher's office with all of its extra wards to notice those types of things) and no one would be the wiser. It was ridiculous.
Draco looked especially displeased. "Great. Now what? He's completely useless, as I told you he would be." He said this last part to Harry and frowned right back at him.
"We were going to take him with us to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Thomas said before being shushed both by Weasley and Finnigan.
"What are you thinking?" Finnigan hissed.
"They're Slytherins," Weasley protested.
Both Draco and Harry were quick on the uptake. "The entrance to the Chamber is in a girls lavatory?"
"Now look what you've done!" Weasley shouted.
Thomas, for his part, looked unrepentant. "Potter's never been a bad sort and Malfoy's more talk than anything. Besides, maybe they can help. It is their houses' namesake secret chamber. Perhaps there are Slytherin secrets that would make it easier to rescue your sister."
Harry much doubted that there was anything such as 'Slytherin secrets' but he was well aware how stubborn Weasley could be and would take the boon. "Of course there are. It's why we came here to begin with, to offer what aid we can."
Finnigan was the first to shrug. "I'm game. Two more to the entourage!"
Draco scowled, probably at being included in an entourage with Gryffindors, but thankfully kept the peace. Weasley followed his example and made the executive decision to lead the way, thus putting him as far away from Draco and Harry. "Why a lavatory?" Harry asked a few minutes into the walk, tired of the tense silence and Weasley's intermittent grumbles for Lockhart to keep moving.
"A girl was killed last time the chamber of secrets was opened," Thomas explained. "Myrtle Warren."
"Now called Moaning Myrtle," Finnigan added from up ahead. "She's kind of horrible but you can't help but feel bad for her. I mean, she was only a student when she died."
Harry stared at the two in barely restrained surprise. If the chamber had been opened before it must've been his father's doing. But had he really killed a student? "How..." Harry swallowed once, not sure he wanted to know the answer. "How did she die? Who killed her?"
"Someone snuck into the bathroom, a boy, she said," Finnigan continued completely unaware to Harry's rising horror. "She was in there crying or something and went to yell at them but when she opened the door she just died. Just like that."
"Was it the killing curse?" Harry whispered.
"The wards on the school would have notified the staff," Draco interrupted whatever the two gryffindors were going to say, his gaze analyzing Harry. "And the school would have been closed for some time if the Unforgivables were being slung around. We'd have heard about it before now if it had been."
"Myrtle doesn't know what killed her. Just remembered seeing glowing yellow eyes across the bathroom. We figure it must be a big arse snake," Seamus grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Harry and Draco. "You know, since it is Salazar Slytherin's chamber."
The other three didn't know Draco so well, but Harry saw the tightening of his fists and the stiffening of his shoulders that indicated the blond was probably cursing a plethora of someone's ancestors at that precise moment. Harry turned a questioning glance to the slytherin when the others continued down the hall. His gaze looked almost anguished when he spoke softly, so his voice didn't carry. "Basilisk."
Harry felt his stomach drop. A basilisk! A sodding basilisk!! In the school?! What kind of moron hid a 50 ft giant snake in a school full of fucking children?! (Apparently his moron ancestor. Parselmouth or not, it was a miracle that no one had been killed. And what in Morgana's name was his father doing sending a basilisk after school children for petty disagreements?!) "This is insane," Harry spoke back, just as quietly.
Draco gave him an incredulous expression that clearly said: "You think?!" before continuing on.
Harry, personally, was surprised the blond wanted to continue. Draco was many things, but recklessly brave was not one of them. Sure he had followed Harry down to the trap door in the third floor corridor last year but that had been more out of curiosity than anything and their safety had been relatively assured (despite the Headmaster's piss poor attempt at warning off the students).
The rest of the walk was spent with Finnigan's pleasant chatter, completely at odds with Weasley's grumbling as if they all weren't out in the halls after hours with a basilisk running loose and attacking students. If Professor Snape saw them he'd sure to blame everything on Harry (even though Weasley was the one with his wand pointed at a professor). Thankfully, they made it to the designated lavatory without anyone crossing their path and was greeted within seconds by the ghost in question.
"Ooh. You lot are being awfully naughty," a high-pitched voice crooned from somewhere above. "Boys aren't allowed in here you know."
As one, the group looked up to the ceiling where a transparent figure sat by the windows set high in the wall. Having garnered all of their attention she began floating down. Harry stared longer at the girl than the rest. He had never seen a ghost so young before. She couldn't have been more than a year or two older than him. But not only was she dead, but she had held so much regret that a piece of her magic and soul had remained here rather than passing on into the afterlife. 'Such a waste of life,' Harry thought as Thomas began talking to her. 'Surely father hadn't done such a thing on purpose...?'
He couldn't imagine anyone-- monster or no-- that would throw away the life of a child. Harry had never bought into the whole 'pureblood supremacy' that so many older families sprouted and he doubted his father had either. There was no such thing as the blood making the magic stronger. Harry was half-blood and he had bested Percival Weasley, a NEWT student from a noble line. Hermione Granger was a muggleborn that consistently scored higher than almost every other student in their year. (Harry wondered what had been told to the ghost's parents when she had died. How did one go about telling Muggles that they're daughter was killed by a monster?)
"What?!"
Harry turned back to the others at Weasley's indignant squawk. Draco was rolling his eyes. "Think about it logically. All of us disappearing at once will probably be suspicious, you most of all."
Weasley crossed his arms and jutted out his chin in a parody of Draco's own stubborn stance. "Oh yeah?"
"Draco's right," Harry added his own voice to what was probably a very one-sided conversation. "It is your sister that was taken so Professor McGonagall is probably gathering up your entire family right now. Your absence will be noted and traced to Professor Lockhart sooner rather than later."
"Then we best move quickly," Thomas said, thus proving that although he was the voice of reason on the Gryffindor side, he was still a Gryffindor. "Even Ron."
Harry ignored all of them and turned to the sink. If Myrtle saw yellow eyes by the sink it was a good bet that the entrance was here. He stepped closer still and reflexively cast a privacy charm to hide his Parseltongue. "Open."
There were a series of interjections behind him and when he turned around, it was with a big gaping hole open into the bowels of the castle. "Still want to go, Weasley?" Harry asked after letting down the privacy ward, hoping the redhead to be reasonable for once.
Harry had no such luck. "Of course I'm going," Weasley growled as he took several steps forward.
Harry arched an eyebrow at the Gryffindor's bravado. Ronald might be bigger than him but Harry had whipped his older brother in a duel and had only been getting better thanks to the combined efforts of Helena, Cedric, and Alec. There was no way the gryffindor could take him in a fight and everyone knew it. "It will be dangerous. You've no useful skills and your grades are abysmal. What do you expect to offer in aid?"
The redhead stuck out his chin and threw back his shoulders. "She's my sister," he stressed through clenched teeth. "I'm going."
Silence reigned for a few seconds before Harry nodded in assent. Draco, who had his wand half-raised ready to stun the obstinate boy if needed, lowered his wand with great hesitation. "Well it seems like you lads have everything sorted," Lockhart said hurriedly, his gaze still flitting from the opening in the floor to Finnigan and Thomas who had their wands trained at his back. "You won't be needing me, now will you?"
He scampered hurriedly towards the safety of the corridor but was stopped by a stinging hex from Draco. "Oh no you don't," the blond said with a feral smile. "You're going first."
Harry's smile widened as well to something vicious. Lockhart looked as if he would faint. "Now boys, what would that prove?"
"Better you than us," was Weasley's addition.
Being the charlatan and coward that he was, Lockhart could find no fault in that logic and turned to stare into the depths of the school. Then he turned back: "You know, what if--"
Whatever he'd been about to say was lost when Finnigan pushed him into the darkness. Everyone stared at the other boy in surprise but he merely shrugged. "What? He was driving me spare. Not like none of you didn't want to stuff him," and with that he jumped down himself, a cheer breaking out as he disappeared into the darkness.
Thomas rolled his eyes and followed his friend with Weasley on his tail. Draco stared in dismay after the lot of them before turning back to Harry. "Gryffindors! I swear, it's like none of them even recall the monster that's been attacking students all year is supposed to be down there!"
Harry sighed. "Come on, before they get themselves killed. Or worse, find the Dark Lord."
They both jumped into the darkness, only seconds after one another to be greeted by a rather morose cry. "My wand," came a gasp of dismay.
Harry, stepping away from the hole he had appeared from so that Draco didn't run into him, turned to see Weasley's face drained of blood. Immediately Harry saw why. His wand had snapped in two with his fall and a thin strand of silvery glowing hair sparked through the edges. To a wizard, the loss of a wand was similar to the loss of a limb. "Honestly Ron," sighed Thomas before he turned to Finnigan with his hand held out.
The Irishman ruffled through his robe pockets for a few seconds before coming up with whatever he had been searching for and placed a small object in Thomas' hand. The gryffindors huddled together with a weird 'vvvipping' noise coming from between them. When they turned around Weasley's wand had been mended with spell-o-tape.
Draco cackled. "You wanted to come along Weasley. And you've already proven you're a cock-up!"
Harry was sure the blond would have fallen down laughing if it wasn't for the fact that they were in the sewers. He sent a stinging hex at his ally to quiet him (no need to antagonize the gryffindors when they would need them to watch their backs) and turned to find Lockhart. The man was several paces ahead at where this particular pipe branched off. Harry took a few steps forward only to notice the loud crunching under his feet. Looking down Harry cast a lumos.
Finnigan and Draco squaked in dismay and Thomas cursed. "What's that?" Weasley asked.
Harry glanced up at his classmates with a grim expression. "Bones."
The entire base of the pipe they had slid down was completely riddled with the things. It covered the floor like an especially morbid carpet. "Bones?" Draco repeated, his voice a tad higher pitch. "Bones?! Who's bones?"
"They look like animals mostly," Thomas observed as he crouched down. "Probably rats, squirrels, or some such."
Harry thought it was macabre. He doubted their ancestor would be especially pleased with the state his father had left the chamber in. Honestly, it's like the monster didn't expect Harry to even find the entrance. "Now let's not be hasty," Lockhart began again as the rest of them continued gazing around with trepidation. "I'm sure the girl can wait for the proper authorities to arrive."
Ron stomped forward, his face turning red. "That's my sister you're talking about!" he hissed, jabbing his wand at the professor. "Now get going. We haven't got all night."
Harry and Draco passed a silent look between one another. Neither had planned on the Gryffindor's being in attendance and had no idea how to correct the problem. There were three of Gryffindors and only two of them. Plus Lockhart. "We'll figure something out," Draco spoke softly, barely audible above the sound of crunching bones underfoot.
Harry nodded once to his ally and led the way after the rest of the group. Draco could more than handle himself when he stopped acting like one of his family peacocks and Harry had no doubt that anyone or anything that hoped to sneak up on them from behind would be in for a rather rude awakening.
It only stood to reason that that was the moment they came across a massive snake skin. "Merlin's beard!" Finnigan gasped, taking several hasty steps back.
Harry reached out and ran his hand across the rough material. "It's still intact, despite all the moisture down hear. I doubt it was shed more than a fortnight ago."
"Don't snakes grow in size every time they shed?" Draco asked, for once standing united with the Gryffindors and standing a healthy fifteen feet away from Harry.
Harry nodded his head, seeing no reason to lie.
Lockhart fainted.
Finnigan snorted and Harry couldn't help but giggle (a manly giggle!) at the entire situation. A group of second years were nothing more than cautious and this renowned wizard fainted. "Nerves of steel, this one," Weasley scoffed.
Of course that was when Lockhart jumped up and snatched the redhead's wand right out of his hands. Harry's eyes widened in horror, the blood rushing in his ears. "Not so fast Potter," Lockhart turned to him quickly, the wand focused solely on him. "Let's not have a repeat of your prodigious dueling skills, shall we?"
Harry bared his teeth, but did not reach for his wand. He knew wandless magic, of course he did, but nothing useful was coming to mind presently. There was a faint tingling of his feelings at the urge to use the killing curse surrounded him like a physical ache. Harry had found the Chamber-- was minutes away from meeting his father-- and this charlatan was putting all of it at risk. The tingling sensation flowed further up his arms, numbing his hands, and bringing with it a soft green glow as the man continued to talk.
He thought he had the upper hand. He thought he was safe. But Harry was the son of a Dark Lord, the son of a Monster and a Star. Like hell was he going to-- the man whipped the wand around and Harry let out a snarl of outrage. His gathered magic was too weak to be effective, but it still lashed out, hoping to end the threat--
There was an explosion of sound and Harry's entire world bled into darkness.
"Harry? Harry!?"
"Come on Potter, answer 'im already will ya?"
Harry winced at the pounding in his head. "Wah...?" he groaned and turned onto his side-- it felt like a rock was digging into his ribs.
"Shout if you're dead, okay?"
"FINNIGAN!!"
There was some more rumbling and the sound of shifting rubble. Harry glared around the dark room wondering if perhaps his eye potion had stopped working and he needed glasses again. A few second of frantic blinking cleared his eyesight well enough and the remaining vagueness was due to the dust that was floating in the air. "Well now you've done it Malfoy, way to go."
Harry glanced towards where the voices were coming from and saw a mass of rocks that spanned from the floor to the ceiling. The sight of the great obstruction had him recall what had happened all at once. Lockhart had tried to obliviate them using Ron's recently broken wand and the spell had instead sent him flying backwards and into the cave wall. It must've been enough force to cause the cave-in he presently saw. "Draco?" Harry called over the sound of squabbling that came from the other side.
There was silence for a few seconds before he could hear the muffled voice of his blond ally. "Harry? By the gods, you gave me a fright. Why didn't you answer me?"
"Sorry," Harry placated the other, looking around his side. "Are the rest with you as well?"
"Yeah we're here Potter," came Thomas' voice. "You were the only one interested in the giant snake skin so you were on the other side of the cave in."
"Lockhart's charm backfired though," called Finnigan. "He hasn't a clue who he is."
Weasley's voice came next followed by the sound of shifting rubble, substantially quieter than the rumble of the cave in. "We've got to clear this stuff away. My sister's still in here!"
Harry blinked in surprise at the sudden realization. He was alone! This was the perfect time to catch his father without any witnesses. "I'll go on ahead and try to find her," Harry hastily said, climbing down from his side on the rocks. "You lot clear a way for us to get out when I come back."
Harry was sure his father would know another way in and out of the chamber-- he couldn't see the Dark Lord entering and exiting a girl's lavatory when he wanted to set his giant snake upon the student body. "Harry, be careful!" came Draco's voice just as Ron's shouted. "Wait!"
Harry ignored both and continued on at a faster pace. He must be close now. The snake would shed its skin close to its nest, surely. And his father would be where the serpent was. (Probably.) He soon left the sound of shifting rubble and muffled voices behind him and it was only a few minutes more before he came to another door, shaped like a vault with several serpents carved into it. "Open," he hissed, glancing behind him apprehensively to make sure one of the Gryffindors hadn't suddenly recalled a handy spell for moving rubble.
(Draco probably knew several, but he was hopefully being as useless as possible to give Harry more time to meet with the Dark Lord. Honestly if the Slytherin's weren't so allergic to all things friendship Harry would be inclined to count the blond as his friend...)
The vault door opened into a large antechamber that was already alight. He stepped carefully through the opening and wrinkled his nose at the scent. For a hidden chamber belonging to one of the founders, it smelled absolutely horrible. 'Still water,' Harry thought as he slowly made his way into the chamber, his feet splashing in the shallow puddles of water strewn across the walkway. Honestly, his father could have at least banished all of this water-- what did it flood down here and the monster left it as it was? Harry was all for living up to the hype of being a monster but he felt that one should pick and choose which stereotypes to perpetuate carefully. There was no reason for them to live like they were destitute, after all.
A few steps more and the shadows receded further to show a huddled form with bright orange hair. "That must be Ginevra Weasley," he said to himself, his gaze searching for a door.
He had already seen the pipes that led away from this main chamber and really didn't want to get lost in the plumbing just to find his father. He continued past the girl, noting that her cheeks were still tinged pink. Alive, then. That was good. If not for Ronald Weasley or the tentative truce he was trying to negotiate between the Weasley family and the Malfoys then because Harry thought his father should stop threatening students already and focus on Dumbledore. Honestly, it was just a silly poem anyway, not worth nearly half the effort the monster was putting into everything.
Harry noticed a flash of movement out of his peripheral and he whipped around, wand drawn with a lumos charm on the tip. The figure was tall and broad-shouldered with inky black hair slicked back in a style Harry thought was a tad outdated. From this far Harry couldn't see the eyes of the person but could tell it was a man. Also evident was the prefect badge pinned just below the Slytherin house emblem on his school robes. "You're... you're not him..."
Harry let out a weary sigh and glanced back to the prone frame of the girl a ways away. He could see from here the rise and fall of her chest-- she was breathing steadily enough. Without any medical charms (of which Harry knew very few) he wouldn't be of much aid to Ginevra Weasley. His gaze wandered back to the boy standing before him.
He was much closer to adulthood than Harry, but still a few years shy of graduating. Although Harry didn't recognize him, he really didn't pay attention to many of the older years that he wasn't directly involved with (which was still a fair bit more than most second years bothered with remembering). It wasn't surprising that he didn't recognize the Slytherin standing before him. That absolutely did not change the feeling of betrayal he felt at another person being brought to aid his father before him. "Why is it that he called you before him? What makes you so special?" he asked bitterly. Harry had just about had it with this damn school year. Between Snape being a royal arse, his father's refusal to call him to his side, his own inability to hide his parentage from a twelve year old boy-- Harry was starting to get pissed.
The boy only stared at Harry in bemusement. "You have no idea who I am, do you?" the boy spoke in a smooth cadence.
Harry bared his teeth. He might not have been the quickest on the uptake with the hierarchy that was part of being a Slytherin, but he had more than made up for that in the last year and knew all of the higher noble lines in his house as well as quite a few in others (mostly thanks to his study sessions with Lady Clearwater who was rather loose-lipped, truth be told.) But the fact that he didn't recognize this particular Prefect meant that he was of very little consequence to the grand scheme of the things, either within Hogwarts or without. Harry had absolutely no time for some self-important heir to a minor, landless house and his stupid pride. "You have no idea who I am, either. Otherwise you would answer me forthright."
The boy's bemusement dried up quickly into distaste. "You will watch your tongue you waif or I'll cut it from your head."
Harry raised his chin the way he'd seen Draco do about a thousand times. This boy didn't scare him. Harry was a monster. "Where is my father? I want to see him."
This caught the boy by surprise once again because his expression cleared once more. "James Potter is dead, boy."
Harry rolled his eyes then crossed his arms. "I suppose the Dark Lord doesn't trust you as much as you think he does if he hasn't told you." At the blank expression, he continues once more. "I am his son. And I wish to see my father. Take me to him now. I know he is here."
The boy's eyes widened and he threw his head back and laughed and laughed and laughed. Harry's eyes widened incredulously. He was laughing... At the horrible insult his eyes narrowed dangerously, fury and a fair bit of embarrassment heating his cheeks. "You dare laugh to my face. The son of Lord Voldemort?! My father will tear the flesh from your bones!" he hissed.
The threat probably sounded a lot less gruesome in English than in parseltongue. Draco's threats against his adversaries in his father's name never quite made them make such a shell-shocked expression. "No," the student shook his head in denial with wide eyes. "It is not possible."
"I assure you many have gone to great lengths to assure my relative safety until my father returned. Now take me to him. I will not ask again."
"I..." the man stepped forward a few steps more and only upon stopping right in front of him and falling onto his knees did Harry realize that there had been not a single sound of his approach. He reached up and grazed Harry's cheeks with his fingertips. Harry's eyes widened. It wasn't a true pressure of skin on skin. This other boy's touch felt like mist, like a breath. Like he wasn't really there. "You are..." Harry whispered.
He lost the words in the next instant. There was a tugging sensation in his chest and his breath rushed out like a kick to the stomach. Harry's skin felt too tight, his clothes uncharacteristically rough against his body. The mist sensation of the man's hand sharpened to a painfully tight grip on his chin. Amber-brown eyes stared up at him, alight with a fire of magic. "Mine," the man finished. "You are mine."
Harry was confused. Did his father... give him away? Is Harry engaged?! A blush raised high on Harry's cheeks and he took several steps back. "No!" he shouted at the man who was still on his knees. "I was to be his aid, his heir. He cannot give me to another! Let me see my father. Let me see him!"
He shouted through his frustrated tears. His father had thrown him away to gain the allegiance of this man?! How could-- Harry was twelve. And he was a bloke! How could-- "Oh sweet child," the man spoke, his voice suddenly close once again. Harry stared up in dawning hysteria. He was so close. He was too close! "I am your father," he breathed out, a manic grin splitting across his handsome features.
Harry felt sick.
The Dark Lord had given him to this-- this monster?
Harry felt his breath hitch at the thought. There were more? More than him and the Dark Lord?
A sudden booming from behind them had Harry flinching around as rubble and a column of smoke emitted from the entrance where Harry had entered. He whipped around just as a flurry of red robed men entered, at their head was Albus Dumbledore. He stopped short upon catching sight of the man behind Harry. "Tom..."
Harry could hear the man's grin even without seeing it. "Always a pleasure Professor Dumbledore."
He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and leaned forward as the men started running towards them. "I will be back, my child. Stay safe until my return."
A step back and then there was the sound of a lightning strike. Harry whirled around, but the man was gone. Tom, Dumbledore had called him. "Tom..." Harry breathed out.
Fury lighted deep in his core. He would be having words with his father about this 'Tom' character when they finally met. He doesn't know what the man had been thinking, but there was no way in hell Harry was marrying that man.
Harry would not be some rent boy to be loaned out whenever the Dark Lord saw fit. He was his son and would demand the respect that was afforded to him because of it.
"Mr. Potter."
Harry looked up at the deep blue eyes of the Headmaster. That stupid twinkle had gone out at last. Harry wasn't pleased like he thought he would be when that happened. He felt sick and hollow. His chest ached terribly and a heat flushed up his spine. "Headmaster," he croaked out before he bent over and emptied his dinner at the old man's feet.
A/N: Here is the promised update! It has been a while in coming but I hope everyone is pleased enough. With this starts a whole new part as far as the story goes. If you've found comfort in the similarities between this and canon then you might want to buckle up because things are about to get interesting. As always, leave a review and let me know what you think.