Disclaimer: I don't own nuthin.
§Parseltongue§
Lucius Abraxas Malfoy sat in his study, doing his taxes, even pureblood pseudo-nobles had to pay them. It had been cold that night, uncharacteristically so for Summer, a great wind storm had struck Wiltshire in the preceding days. Thus it was no surprise to him when the singular window in his study blew open.
Huffing, he stood up and hurried to close the window before the cold could overpower the heat emanating from the crackling fire situated inside a fireplace on the far end of the room. Swiftly turning around, he found himself face-to-face with an unfamiliar man.
The first thing the Malfoy patriarch noticed were his eyes, they were the color of a roaring fire and glowed like one too. The man's robes were gold in color and ancient in style almost Elizabethan, probably made of acromantula silk judging by the look. And he was pale, somehow more so than a corpse or a vampire, his ears were also pointed ever so slightly.
The man slowly smiled, showing off his very pointed teeth, "Hello, Lucius."
Lucius went for his wand, only to find that it was no longer in its holster.
"Looking for this?" The man smirked, he held up the Malfoy patriarch's wand. The blonde went pale.
Lucius swallowed thickly, "Who are you, what do you want." He asked, it was more of a statement than a question.
The man was suddenly a few feet farther from him, "Me? The name's Paimon Swargud. As for what I want, well, numerous things." The man, Paimon, gave a disturbing smile as he said this, "First and foremost being you ordering your House Elf here."
"Why-" Lucius asked. He was cut off by Paimon appearing directly in front of him, a vice-like hand wrapped around the blonde's neck. The Malfoy patriarch was distinctly aware of the five claws digging into his neck.
"No questions, my dear Lucius," Paimon growled, slowly lifting the blonde-haired man off the ground, "Just actions."
Lucius cleared his throat and said in a shaky voice, "Dobby!"
Said elf appeared with a soft pop, ears flopping, "Master called Dobby?"
Paimon dropped the blonde and turned to face the elf, "Dobby, my dear friend! It has come to my attention that you have been stealing mail, is that true?"
Lucius snapped around to look at Dobby. Stealing mail?
"You do know that stealing is wrong," Paimon said, "Right Dobby?" As he said this, his voice became guttural, and a spectral golden crown engraved with symbols that made a dull ache radiate through Lucius' skull flashed into existence on Paimon's head. The Malfoy patriarch also noticed a pair of pitch-black spectral wings flashing into existence on the thing's back. Lucius had a hard time believing Paimon was just an odd-looking man at this point.
Dobby wasn't doing much better, the House Elf's pupils had shrunk in fear. The creature nodded shakily.
Paimon smiled predatorily, "Good, good, now I suggest you return the mail you stole, my friend."
The House Elf popped away immediately.
Paimon smiled, turning back to Lucius, "Bye." He said simply, then disappeared.
Lucius let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, his heart was pounding like a smith's hammer.
/ / / / / / / /
"§Gilderoy Lockhart, oh this is gonna be fun,§" I hissed after I finished reading the list of supplies Kleo would need for her second year at Hogwarts.
"§Why?§" The by now twelve-year-old Kleodora Potter asked as she was being measured for a new set of robes. The kid had sprouted up like a frickin weed over the summer. I began to fear I had another Trijntje Keever situation on my hands.
The list sped away from where I was coiled up on the floor of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and promptly burnt to ash, "§He's a jackass and fraud, truly someone I will revel in tormenting.§"
"§What kinda rat are you gonna use on him?§" Kleo asked.
"§Nope, no rats, Zeshramurian Blood Spyders will be greeting this classical ignoramus in the mornings,§" I responded, giving a hissing chuckle.
"§Zeshramurian Blood Spyders?§"
"§A horrid little parasite native to the planet of Zeshramuria, they hide in the tall grass-like plants which cover most of the place, waiting for an animal or human to come by. Once one does, then, boom ya have a mouse-sized bloodsucking creature sticking its long proboscis into your leg and probably giving you Spastic Scurvy,§" I said, "§As for how I know this, well I am the sole ruler of the most powerful empire that will ever exist within the bounds of the omniverse.§"
Kleo sniffed, "§I know that you've told me about a dozen times.§"
"§Don't you be snippy with me,§" I hissed.
It was quite a shock to everyone but me when one Tacita Narcissa Malfoy burst into the small shop. She carried one of the loculus-like bookbags that I had seen a majority of Hogwarts students using.
"Kleo, there you are! Can you believe it?!" Tacita said excitedly.
I instantly gained a very bad feeling.
"Believe what?" Kleo asked waspishly. Her snappishness could probably be attributed to the junior assistant that kept accidentally stabbing her, now that I think about it.
"Gilderoy Lockhart is in Flourish and Blotts!" Tacita responded, "He's signing books!"
Azathoth's blood, the infernal skunk had caught Tacita in his snare.
"Oh," Kleo said, sounding very disinterested.
"It's great isn't it!" Tacita spoke, obviously not having heard Kleo's tone.
The robe was unceremoniously pulled from Kleo, "That's done, you can collect your robes at the counter." The junior assistant said.
Several minutes later, Kleo, holding a bag full of her new robes, was practically dragged into the bookstore by Tacita.
"§Remember, my dear,§" I hissed, "§No matter how handsome he is, this man is a fraud and a loathly man swine with sweetbread brains.§"
"Mum! Father!" Tacita said, "This is Kleo Potter."
Ah, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, two people I found very interesting. Lucius, a politician through and through, someone able to slither his way to a spot by the Minister's ear. And Narcissa, a skilled healer, someone unlike the sort of housewives that so many pureblood women were supposed to be.
"It's nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," Kleo said, doing a small curtsy. I had taught her well.
"§Good,§" I hissed, making sure I was loud enough that all three Malfoy's would hear.
Tacita looked at her, "Xenophon's with you?"
"He's always with me," Kleo answered, "Why?"
"I just thought you kept him in a tank or something during the summer," Tacita shrugged.
"§Tell her that I'm your bodyguard, of course, I wouldn't be in some tank,§" I hissed.
"He wants you to know that he's my bodyguard, so it's only natural that he'd be with me at all times," Kleo said in a fake haughty tone.
Tacita snickered, the elder Malfoy's meanwhile, had grown very pale over the course of the conversation.
"Are you going to get your books?" Tacita asked.
"No," Kleo lied, "I already got them, mail-ordered."
Tacita looked sort of put out at this. She had most likely been hoping her friend could get to possibly meet the mass of inanity known as Gilderoy Lockhart.
"I really must be going," Kleo said, "Bye Tacita, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Goodbye Kleo," Tacita spoke.
As she was walking away, Kleo turned and said, "See you on the train!"
/ / / / / / / /
"§Wand?§"
"Check."
"§Grimoire?§"
"Check."
"§Seax?§"
"Check."
"§Packed trunk?§"
"Check."
"§Hold on, my dear.§"
With that, we disappeared from Privet Drive, leaving behind a very nasty case of Athlete's Foot-causing fungus in Vernon's shoes. The two of us reappeared on platform nine and three quarters, a place once again bustling with people. I glanced over at the portal, ah, House Elf magick. I guess my threats-er warnings hadn't scared the little creature off as much as I wanted them to. Well, I was sure I could keep myself a few thousand steps ahead of the Elf.
It only took a few minutes for Kleo to find her way through the crowd and to a compartment. She heaved her trunk up onto the left luggage rack, and I flew up into the right. As the time reached eleven, the train slowly lurched forward, a little-known fact about the Hogwarts Express was that it was the sixty-third of the original Grand Western Railway Firefly-class of locomotives designed by Daniel Gooch. Unlike its brethren, the old locomotive was not powered by steam but magick, thus allowing it to reach speeds up to and sometimes exceeding one-hundred miles per hour.
What must have been over thirty minutes later that the compartment door opened. Outside in the hall was Tacita, the two Ryndy, Pontius, and Boudicca.
"Hello, Tacita!" Kleo said.
Tacita smiled, "Hey." She replied.
"§Ran is making his way towards us,§" I hissed.
"Could you have Crabbe and Goyle wait outside? I have a bad feeling that Weasley is looking for me," Kleo added.
Tacita rolled her eyes, she was likely used to Kleo's 'premonitions' at this point and snapped her fingers. Crabbe and Goyle, following her orders, hung back and slid the door closed once everyone had gotten in.
"How have you been, Tacita?" Kleo asked.
The blonde-haired girl went on to tell us all about her summer. Apparently, there had been a wedding between the heir and heiress of two wealthy pureblood families, the German Ebrusts and the Swedish Foargulls. The Malfoys had been asked to attend due to their distant familial connection to the Ebrusts. It was quite a ceremony, being held in Castle Ebrust, the family's estate hidden within Bavarian Forest National Park.
"How was your summer, Kleo?" Tacita asked.
The Girl-Who-Lived shrugged, "Fine, I certainly didn't go to any weddings! However, my Uncle did fall down the stairs four times in one week, which was pretty exciting. He's such an oafish man, always tripping over seemingly nothing, finding daggers situated in spots where they'll stick him in the arse, sometimes waking up at three in the morning and screaming bloody murder due to some unspeakably terrible nightmare."
There was a great silence after Kleo's description of Vernon's many misfortunes, which I obviously had nothing to do with. Almost hesitantly Pontius opened his mouth and asked, "What does him being an oaf have to do with being stabbed with daggers and having horrid nightmares?"
"I was more thinking of the tripping and falling down the stairs parts," Kleo responded, "Though, I guess you could say he's a very accident-prone man who also has a vivid imagination."
No one commented on the fact that finding daggers located in just the right spot to stab Vernon in the bottom did not sound like mere accidents.
Time lapsed quickly, the mellow English countryside giving way to the rolling green partially forested hills of the Scottish lowlands. And that eventually transformed into the dark craggy rocks and colorful flora of the highland taiga. In my opinion, it was one of the most beautiful places on this small green planet. Tied in second place with Iceland. First was Antarctica after I had all the ice melted as I became bored of the frigid desert my continent was covered in.
Speaking of Earth's southernmost continent, it was still very cold, though now covered in a sort of mix between thick taiga, alpine tundra in places of higher elevation, and areas of chilly bogland mostly occurring in lower regions. It was a hell of a job lowering Murod along with the other cities and villages dotted across Antarctica, but the task was not impossible especially for an Outer God like myself.
As for the fauna of the newly thawed continent, penguins and other such animals were easily rounded up and moved to places more suited to them. And to fill the ecological niches required for the place's success, my scientists created various beasts through genetic engineering of living animals, even bringing back a select few creatures from extinction. Rats were either made wolf-sized and changed into vicious pack-hunting predators or became similar to polar bears in size and behavior. Preyed on by these beasts were a myriad of animals, some being gigantic creatures engineered from the snowshoe hare, Glyptodons brought back from extinction, or even small rodents that created maze-like fortresses out of dead plant matter scavenged from boglands which were commonly breached by genetically engineered avians.
But enough of that, for the express was nearly at Hogsmeade Station. By the time I had finished reminiscing, Pontius had been kicked out momentarily so Tacita and Boudicca could change into their Hogwarts robes. Once that was over the Parkinson heir reentered the compartment, robes on, most likely having changed along with the two Praetorian Guards in the next compartment over.
Twenty minutes later the express finally arrived and the second-years and up were separated from the first-years. They made their way across a cobblestone pathway, through the entrance gates, and into a few hundred pitch-black carriages, which immediately started towards the great castle as the last student stepped in.
It was good to be back, this year was going to be oh so fun!
/ / / / / / / /
"-And if you put another toe out of line I'll bring you straight home myself!"
For extra emphasis, I made the howler explode in a ball of fire instead of just bursting into flames. As the smoke cleared, several Gryffindors and Ran himself had their eyebrows nearly singed off and any food in the area around them had a layer of soot covering it.
Herbology wasn't very interesting, what I found myself really excited about was Defence Against the Dark Arts. I had already set up a few tripping wards around the classroom, tweaking them so that only Lockhart would be affected. But that was not all, obviously I had much more up my sleeves.
When the time finally came, I almost burst out laughing as we entered the classroom. Every single one of the portraits depicting the classical ignoramus had become extremely unappealing. Some had Lockhart running, shit-scared, from one of the various beasts he had 'defeated.' One had him hanging, by his underwear, from a tree while being beaten by small children wearing party hats. Another had the man standing atop a chair cowering in the face of a small mouse. And the pièce de résistance of the collection, the largest portrait in the room depicted Gilderoy Lockhart shirtless, showing off his rather large beer belly, and eating a large submarine sandwich while occasionally drinking deeply from a huge mug of beer.
The entire male part of the class, along with Kleo burst out laughing. Perfect timing too, as Lockhart strode from his office dramatically, beaming and completely unaware of the state of his portraits. He walked over and picked up Goyle's copy of 'Voyages with Vampires' and held it up revealing that even the picture on the book's cover was not safe from my tampering.
The infernal skunk tapped the photo, still unaware of its doctored nature, "Me, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five time winner of the Most-Charming Smile Award from 'Witch Weekly.'"
Lockhart put Goyle's book down and started towards his desk, "But I don't talk about that. After all, I didn't defeat the Bandon Bans-" His monologue was cut off by the simple fact that he had activated one of my tripping wards.
There were snickers throughout the class. Lockhart slowly stood up, playing his fall off as an infestation of Redcaps under the floor, thus making the flagstones move or something. Just like in my universe, he proceeded to hand out a quiz on his books.
"§Sign it Mgvulgtnahor Fhtagn,§" I hissed.
Kleo's eyebrow rose in questioning, but she did as I asked.
Thirty minutes later, Lockhart collected the quizzes, "Tut, tut, hardly anyone recalled that my favorite color is lilac- who signed their quiz Mgvulgtnahor Fhtagn?"
I had to suppress a chuckle, poor, poor Gilderoy. I truly did hope that he enjoyed the horrendous nightmares he had from then up until his dying day. It was just a small spell I created for use on mortals who annoyed me greatly, not too dissimilar from the curse I placed on Vernon's pillow.
Lockhart eventually gave up on finding out who this mysterious 'Mgvulgtnahor Fhtagn' was. And finally, the true fun began.
"Be warned!" Lockhart said dramatically, setting a cage I knew to be full of pixies upon his desk, "It is my job to arm you against the most horrid practices and creatures known to us! This year you may find yourself facing beasts or magics that could very well be the death of you one day! But know this! While I am here no harm shall come to you. Just remain calm."
The classical ignoramus ripped the cover off, revealing a cage filled to the brim with, Vampire Doxies? Well, that answered one of my questions, this Lockhart was more of an imbecile than the other one.
"Doxies?" Chuckled a boy named Ernie Macmillan.
Lockhart grinned broadly, "Freshly caught Vampire Doxies!"
"My grandmother could take care of those!" Macmillan snickered.
"Oh, if you're so confident," The infernal skunk said, "Then let's see what you make of them!"
He opened the cage and the small creatures darted out in a great wave, it appeared that Lockhart had really riled them up before the class. Students began screaming and running for cover, several of the biting fairies immediately went straight for the DADA Professor.
"De-" Lockhart started, only to be cut off by his own scream as the creatures latched onto his face and began drawing blood.
Kleo drew her wand, "Segmelatio!" She shouted.
An arc of sickly yellow light flew forward, impacting the oncoming horde of Doxies. In its wake, it left a good portion with their innards no longer confined to their body due to deep slashes.
Tacita, using one of Lockhart's books as a makeshift shield, flicked her wand, shouting "Diffindo!" Causing a Doxy to be cut cleanly in half.
"Pellurus!" Kleo incanted. The effect was as if some gigantic invisible hand came forward and smashed the remaining Doxies into greenish goup against the far wall.
With most of the Doxies taken care of, Kleo and Tacita hesitantly stepped forward to check on Lockhart. Said fop was curled up and whimpering as several of the creatures guzzled down his blood.
"Flipendo," Kleo said almost lazily. The Doxies that had attached themselves to the Professor's face were instantly killed. But as a consequence Lockhart's head shot back and cracked against the stone floor, knocking him out cold.
/ / / / / / / /
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Zeb Dumbledore sat in his office scheming as usual. Yes, everything was going according to The Plan™.
"Albus! Albus are you listening to me?!" Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall snapped.
Dumbledore smiled in his usual faux-grandfatherly way, "Why of course Minerva, now what is it that you want?" He was perfectly calm, as Minerva's tirade was all part of The Plan™.
McGonagall's lips thinned and she huffed, "Albus, I demand that you fire Gilderoy Lockhart immediately!"
"Whatever for, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked genially.
In the shadows Severus Snape made a funny sort of half-snort.
"For the second time, Albus, he released a swarm of Vampire Doxies onto the second-year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs!" McGonagall hissed.
"Oh, Minerva," Dumbledore responded, fixing her with his patented disapproving look, "I had thought you were above such unfounded accusations against your colleagues."
Alas he had to keep Lockhart on staff at all costs, for the man was essential to The Plan™ of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Zeb Dumbeldore. The part Gilderoy Lockhart would play in Kleodora Potter's second year was so important, that even the Headmaster had yet to understand it. But The Plan™'s word was law, and even Dumbledore had to follow it for the Greater Good of all.
Snape made another funny little half-snort.
"So you are suggesting that twenty-five children are lying?" McGonagall growled, eye twitching.
Dumbledore chuckled heartily, "Of course not, Minerva! I am just suggesting that you are who's lying."
The Deputy Headmistress' normally stony exterior was broken when she screamed incomprehensibly and stormed out of Dumbledore's office.
Yes, all was well with The Plan™ of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Zeb Dumbledore.
/ / / / / / / /
The next three months passed without many notable instances, only three in fact. Those being Tacita's appointment to the Slytherin Quidditch team as Seeker. The petrification of Filch's overgrown dust bunny, the scene of which I made sure to keep Kleo far away from. And the rogue bludger incident, which of course was followed closely by the petrification of Colin Creevey.
The seventeenth of December nineteen-ninety-two, the day of the Dueling Club. A blanket of snow covered the grounds, and frigid temperatures necessitated the use of warming charms in and outdoors. A long platform had been set up in the Great Hall, and atop it were Snape and Lockhart, the latter spoke extensively about his dueling prowess, though the way he kept stumbling did not lend credence to his claims.
"One, two, three!" Lockhart spoke.
Snape jabbed his wand before the blonde fop even opened his mouth to say the incantation, "Expelliarmus!"
With a blast of red light, the famous Gilderoy Lockhart was blasted off his feet, flying back off the platform and into the preemptively cushioned wall behind. There was a great round of applause, mostly from the male denizens of Hogwarts.
Lockhart staggered to his feet, flashing a shaky but wide smile, "There you have it! The Disarming charm and I seem to have lost my wand-oh thank you, Miss Granger.
The fop climbed back up onto the platform, "An excellent demonstration, Professor Snape, although it was quite obvious by your wand movement what you were doing and had I wanted to, I could've easily countered it. But enough of that, I am now going to pick two of you to try your hand at a mock-duel." Lockhart gazed out onto the sea of children, "Ah, yes, Potter and Weasley, you up first!"
Snape and Lockhart stepped down from the platform, allowing Ran and Kleo to clamber up. The Weasley boy looked terrified, as he should have been.
"Bow!" Lockhart ordered.
Kleo inclined her body very slightly, Ran did the same. Both were unwilling to take their eyes off each other.
"One," Lockhart said, "Two, three!"
Kleo slashed her wand, "Calcpulare!" She hissed, causing Ran's feet to snap together, "Expelliarmus!" The weak disarmer she sent afterwards made the boy topple backward, the spell was not powered enough for Ran's wand to leave his hand.
"Well done, Miss Potter!" Lockhart said, tripping over nothing as he made his way towards the platform.
Snape meanwhile strode up, a smile toying at the corners of his mouth, and waved his wand over Ran, muttering, "Finite Incantatem."
"Now once more!" Lockhart said after he had stood up.
Ran shakily got to his feet. The two once again bowed and the classical ignoramus counted to three.
"Lutructo!" Kleo incanted.
Hot mud sprayed from Ran's nose, but he still managed to croak out, "Serpensortia!"
A large black snake shot out of Ran's wand, landing between them on the platform. The creature hissed angrily, shocked by the sudden transition from nonexistence to existence.
Without warning, I slithered out of Kleo's sleeve and made to encircle the pissed-off serpent. Gasps rang out from the surrounding students, and Ran went the color of rotten buttermilk.
"§Quick! Vanish it!§" I hissed.
Kleo jabbed her wand at the summoned snake, "Vipera Evanesca!"
With a soft pop and a puff of gray smoke, the serpent disappeared from the dueling platform. How the hell would Ran know the spell to summon a snake? Wait. Ah, Dumbledore you were such a crafty but oh so inept puppeteer. This universe's Headmaster wanted Kleo to be ostracized by the school for being a parselmouth, you deviously stupid old wizard! You wanted her to be a castout so you the great Albus Dumbledore could swoop in and gain her admiration by being one of a select few people who didn't believe that she was the Heir of Slytherin!
"Imiferus," Kleo said, flicking her wand at Ran.
The red-haired boy's eyes widened as a gigantic demon spider appeared and began chasing him. However, due to how he was the only one who could see it, the students along with Lockhart and Snape gazed at the terrified boy in confusion.
/ / / / / / / /
From that point on, the entire school, minus the teachers and the Kleo's friend group had decided that the half-blood Girl-Who-Lived was the Heir of Slytherin. This was not helped by Dumbledore's ambiguous wording or the half-Jotun Hagrid getting sent to Azkaban in May. However, by this time I had formulated a plan, first step: Talk with the shade in the Chamber of Secrets and convince/force it to return to the diary. Second and last step: Summon a creature for the teachers to kill or capture, thus ridding the school of 'Slytherin's Monster.'
/ / / / / / / /
His Skeleton Will Lie in the Chamber Forever.
Fina-fucking-lly, it was about time that juvenile Dark Lord started sucking the life out of the youngest Weasley. Azathoth's blood, I had forgotten how long it took for the diary to get its metaphorical ass in gear. Huffing at the teenaged Dark Lord's, well, teenaged-ness, I disappeared from around Kleo's waist and reappeared as the Dark Pharaoh within the Chamber of Secrets. Where I was met with a vaguely see-through Tom Riddle and slowly paling form of Gideon Weasley.
"Hello, Tommy-boy," I greeted.
The shade whirled around, Gideon Weasley's wand in hand. But once the teenage Dark Lord soul fragment laid eyes on my ten-foot-tall mummy-like form, it froze. In my years of fiddling around with Horcruxes, I had not just grown to hate them more and more with every half-assed bit I uncovered. No, I had discovered that they, like magickal paintings, possessed the ability to sense the signature of things in close proximity to them. This is most likey the reason behind the fear Mr. Horcrux began to show in its posture and facial expression.
"What are you?" The shade asked, pupils small with primal terror casued by my presence.
A lit Imperium Jupiter No. 5 appeared in my hand, making the shade flinch, "Oh, just someone stopping you from doing something idiotic. But why I'm here doesn't matter, what does matter is everything I'm about to tell you."
The shade's brows furrowed, though it still looked terrified.
"Horcruxes," I said, sitting in a chair that hadn't been their before, "Soul anchors! Tommy-boy, do you know anything about 'em? What am I saying, of course not! You made them after all!"
A small scowl formed on the shade's face, its terror replaced by anger for a split second.
"The very first Horcrux was made by Herpo the Foul in Ancient Greece," I spoke, puffing on my cigar, "He did this for two reasons, one: he wanted to become immortal. And two: because he was a cowardly loiter-sack! There are many, many ways to become immortal, all have a high price, but none are more shoddy than Horcruxes! Like lichdom, with that you place your soul into an object called a phylactery, these are reinforced heavily, they can only be destroyed in the place they were originally made and with one of four 'lost' magickal artifacts. Or Koshchey's Death, which entails putting your soul into a needle using a ritual that makes it the only thing than can harm you, then you put it into an egg, then a duck, then a rabbit which is placed in a chest and buried."
I stood up, the chair disappearing, "But both of those require expensive rituals, and Herpo was what we call a pigeon-livered skinflint, meaning he didn't want to spend any money or get his hands dirty during his quest for immortality, so he dreamt up the idea for Horcruxes. He basically said screw it! I'll just murder someone using the 'Dololetum' curse, then use the 'Sicco Anima' spell on myself and place the sucked out bit of my soul into a random, unwarded, very destructible object! That's definitely a better idea than the myriad ways witches and wizards have been becoming immortal since literally the beginning of human civilization! And that's why you need to get back in your diary and think about what you've done!"
I pointed at the book, the shade looked at me, utterly shocked and not even pointing Gideon Weasley's wand at me. I waited a full two minutes before forcing the sixteen-year-old Dark Lord back into it.
Quickly casting a curse over the youngest Weasley that would cause him to remain asleep for one day and upon waking forget everything that happened in the previous two days. I sent the diary to a pocket dimension for safe keeping before transporting the red-head to a spot outside the hospital wing.
/ / / / / / / /
Dinner on the night of May thirtieth was interrupted by a loud high-pitched whistling sound that came from somewhere outside the great hall. I suppressed a chuckle, it was here, having sensed the multitude of potential prey crowded in the room.
The doors flew off their hinges, and soared across the room only stopped by Flitwick yards away from crushing all at the staff table. Through the doorway flew an amorphous vaguely tube-shaped mass of hideous flesh, it was around thirty feet in length, covered in several maws full of razor-sharp teeth, bulbous sensor organs, and flickered from visible to invisible at random.
Coincidentally, the Flying Polyp went for a visibly cowering Lockhart first, creating a great gust of wind that swept the blond fop up and straight into one of its mouths. The creature twisted so a few other mouths could grab onto the screaming Professor and rip him apart, sending a shower of blood and small chunks of flesh onto the Ravenclaw table.
It went for a student next, only the teachers had snapped out of their shock by then, and started sending all matter of spells at the creature. Chunks of still-writhing flesh were blasted off by exploding charms, great lions, transfigured from the doors leapt upon the Flying Polyp, clawing at it and trying to drive it out of the great hall.
Lightning spells proved a great asset, marring the creature's skin with great black burns that leaked disgusting ichor and causing it to let out pained screeches. Eventually, the teachers forced it to flee into the night, and I made sure to have the Slythern House crest appear on one of the larger chunks of flesh the Polyp left behind.
I was right! It was a fun year!
Please Stay Tuned for the Next Action Chapter of A Snake Called Nyarlathotep!
Skinflint: An old term for a miser.
Pigeon-Livered: Cowardly.
Loiter-Sack: Lazy.