HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET ENEMY

Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

CHAPTER 41: Endgame (Part 2)

9 May 1993
Gryffindor Tower
2:15 p.m.

In the aftermath of Greenhouse #3's destruction (along with that of the entire Mandrake crop), the student body, which had only begun to relax after Gilderoy Lockhart's capture, promptly went into panic mode once more. The school was rife with theories as to what had happened. Some thought it was a parting gift from the deranged former-DADA instructor. Others thought it was a Weasley Terror prank gone wrong. But those who still suspected Jim Potter of being the Heir of Slytherin made much of the fact that he had been seen leaving Greenhouse #3 moments before the explosion. That faction only grew as time passed and Jim remained conspicuously missing. At 2:00 p.m., McGonagall made a school-wide announcement that students were to remain in the castle for the remainder of the day (though they were not yet confined to their dormitories) and that there would be a mandatory Staff Meeting at 3:00 p.m. once Professor Sprout had finished her inspection of the ruined greenhouse and Professor McGonagall had consulted with the Ministry, the DMLE, and (for some reason) the Sorting Hat.

Meanwhile, Percy Weasley was in panic mode for a different reason. No one had seen Ron since breakfast, and with everything else that had happened, his absence was now officially alarming. After finishing a circuit of the Hogwarts grounds without finding his youngest brother, Percy returned to Gryffindor Tower to check there again. Ron's dorm room was empty, so Percy decided to check his own private study once more. As soon as he was inside, the door slammed shut behind him. Percy whirled around and his eyes widened.

It was Jim Potter pointing a wand at him and bearing a crazed look in his eye.

"Potter!" the prefect exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"I don't know, Percy, old chap. What does it look like?" Jim smiled lazily at him while gesturing with his wand for Percy to move away from the door. Percy complied.

The young prefect said nothing for several seconds as he studied Jim to determine if he might be able to get a jump on the boy. But Percy Weasley, by his own admission, was more of an scholar than a warrior, and he certainly lacked the intensive combat training for which the Boy-Who-Lived was somewhat famous.

"You've never really liked me, have you, Percy?" Jim asked with a smirk. "Never. Why is that? I was friends with Ron and the Twins, after all."

Percy raised his nose somewhat haughtily. "To be honest, Potter, I thought you were a bad influence on Ron. Frankly, I wish I'd done more to separate you two."

Jim laughed. "I'm a bad influence on Ron. Oh, Percy. You have no idea."

Percy scowled and remembered that Ron had been missing all day. "What have you done with Ron, you little monster!?"

"Honestly, Perfect Prefect Percy?" Jim said with a malicious smirk. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Furious at the thought of his youngest brother at the hands of the mad child in front of him, Percy snarled and reached for his wand while attempting to dodge any attack as he did. He never stood a chance. A Banishing Charm sent Percy flying across the room into a wall, and then a Stunner left him out cold. Satisfied, the boy moved over to the desk and pulled out a quill and a sheet of parchment. As he wrote, the boy idly whistled to himself – "God Save the Queen." When he was done writing, he moved over to Percy's prone body where he took possession of the other boy's wand before ripping the prefect pin off of his robe and attaching it to his own. Then, the Boy-Who-Lived reached down to grab a lock of the boy's curly red hair.

The Gryffindor Common Room
2:20 p.m.

Percy Weasley exited his private study and then sealed the door with a powerful locking Charm before heading down to the Common Room, still softly whistling the same tune. Just as he arrived, Head Girl Emily Rossum entered through the main door.

"Ah, Emily!" he said. "Has Professor McGonagall spoken to you about the meeting?

"What meeting?" she asked in confusion.

"Obviously not, I see." The boy pulled a parchment out of the book bag he now carried and handed it over to the girl. On it was a list of names with hers at the top. "She wants these students to come to the Staff Room for the faculty meeting. All the Seventh Year prefects plus a few younger students who she wants to question, presumably about the explosion in the greenhouse."

Emily studied the list. "Very well. I'll go and tell Hermione and Luna. I believe Neville and Fred are in the infirmary, watching over Harry and George, though I don't know if the latter two will be up for any meetings. Would you mind letting them know?"

"Sure," Percy said with any unusually winning smile. "I wanted to check in on George anyway. Would you mind letting the Ravenclaw prefects know? I'll inform the Slytherins."

She nodded and looked over the list. "Sure thing. I believe you'll find Nott and Zabini in the also infirmary watching over Harry Potter. They're a rather tight-knit circle."

"That they are, Emily," Percy said still with an oddly intense smile. "That they are."

The Infirmary
2:30 p.m.

Harry woke to the sight of bright lights bearing down upon him and a powerful sense of deja vu. Opening his eyes, he looked around and saw that he was in the infirmary. Specifically, he was in the exact same bed he woke up in after his Quidditch injury the previous fall and which, ironically, was also the same one he occupied for several days after his run-in with Voldemort months before that.

"Heh. They should probably put a placard over this bed with my name on it," he thought to himself. Glancing around, he saw that one Weasley Twin (presumably George) was lying unconscious in the bed next to him, with the other twin (presumably Fred) sitting nearly nearby looking pensive. "Presumably" in both cases because Harry wasn't in a position to see which one had a mole, although it was probable that the one who had been shot out of Greenhouse #3 like a cannonball was the one who was injured. Ginny Weasley was standing next to the conscious twin with her arm around his shoulder. Looking around, he also saw that Theo, Blaise, Neville, and Marcus Flint were all also present and playing cards at a nearby table. He assumed it was Exploding Snap at first until he noticed that none of the cards were exploding. Then, he realized that Blaise was teaching them how to play poker.

"You know, Neville," he said. "If you let Blaise Zabini steal the Longbottom family fortune with his card sharping skills, your Gran will never let either of us hear the end of it."

"Harry!" Neville said excitedly.

"Oh good," said Blaise cheekily as he checked his watch. "You're awake after just one hour. I think that means I win the betting pool."

Harry ignored Zabini and turned his attention towards Fred. "How's George?"

Fred looked over at Harry with an unreadable expression. "Pomfrey says he'll be okay in a day or so, but he's having some bones regrown right now, so she's got him knocked out for the time being."

Harry nodded and studied the face of the unconscious twin. Like most Slytherins, Harry had spent a good amount of time mocking the idea of "Gryffindor courage." While he thought his friends Neville and Hermione could act with complete fearlessness when moved to do so, on the whole he'd always considered the typical Gryffindor to be mostly talk with little to back it up. And yet George Wesley, a boy with whom he'd had a cordial but not entirely friendly relationship, had without a second thought risked his life to save Harry's. It was a rather sobering thought that forced Harry to reevaluate his attitudes towards the House of the Brave.

"Not to mention the fact that I now probably owe George Weasley a life debt," Harry thought somewhat ruefully. "Which means I need to spend some time in the Library to figure out what the heck life debts are and how they work."

"Alright then, somebody fill me in on what I've missed," Harry said to the group. And in due course, Theo and Blaise gave him the rundown. The Mandrake crop was totally destroyed which meant there was no immediate way to revive the petrification victims, including Albus Dumbledore (who would likely be replaced in all of his positions if he weren't revived relatively soon). Gilderoy Lockhart was the person who originally brought explosive runes into Hogwarts, and while he provided a copy to George Weasley, it was unknown if he'd done so for any other students. Finally, neither Jim Potter nor Ron Weasley had been seen since that morning.

"Say, Neville," Harry asked. "What about the Mandrake farm your family owns in Australia?"

"I've already mentioned that to Professor Sprout," Neville replied. "Unfortunately, because it's in the Southern Hemisphere, there are different constellations that govern the growing season, so they won't be ready for harvest before late August."

Before they could discuss the matter any further, Percy arrived to inform the group that everyone present except Ginny was to come to the Staff Room at 3:00 to answer questions about what they knew about the explosion at Greenhouse #3.

"Why do I have to come?" asked Blaise in confusion. "I wasn't even there."

Percy shrugged. "Your name was on the list McGonagall gave me." He turned to Fred. "How is George?"

But before Fred could answer, Madam Pomfrey arrived to do so for him. "George Weasley will be confined to his bed for at least another day. Mr. Potter, I'll be performing a final check-up on you in just a moment, and if everything looks alright, you're free to go. The rest of you – OUT!"

With some grumbling, the students left the infirmary. Not long after, Madam Pomfrey completed her examination of Harry and told him to get dressed. Then, she turned her attention to George while he did so. After a few minutes spent on diagnostic spells, she cast a Renervate to wake the boy up so she could ask him how he was feeling. The boy replied that he felt fine other than a slight headache and an extremely unpleasant itching from his legs. Pomfrey explained that he hit the ground feet first, shattering the bones in his feet and shins. Because of the extent of the damage, she elected to vanish those bones and then replace them through the use of Skele-Gro. She then left to procure some pain-relieving potions, leaving Harry and George alone together.

"So," Harry started somewhat hesitantly, "Protego Orbis. What's that about? I've never heard of that spell."

"Oh, it gets covered in the Third Year DADA books," he explained. "It's a pretty easy spell – just a standard Protego with the word Orbis added at the end and a second flick added to the wand movement." He demonstrated with his finger. "It's mainly useful for carrying fragile things around that you are worried about getting broken. Me and Fred got detention last year for floating our books around in levitating orbs from class to class. The downside is that damage to the orb translates into both magical drain and physical pain on the caster which is why I blacked out. I could feel the damage of the explosion even if neither of us actually suffered it. Honestly, unless you've got something really valuable to tote around, a protective orb's mainly just for showing off."

"Except for the bit where you can cast the orb around yourself and ride out an explosion."

"Yeah," said George with a grin. "That was pleasantly convenient."

Harry stared at George for several seconds as he absorbed that. "You had no idea whether the spell would even work or not when you cast it that way, did you?" he asked in amazement.

George shrugged almost bashfully. "Well, I thought it would probably work that way. Would have been bloody embarrassing if it hadn't, I guess."

"George ..."

"Harry, let it go. You saved Ron last year. You helped Ginny fit in within Slytherin House. And you helped get Fred back. We're even." Then, the boy laid back (wincing in pain as he did) and closed his eyes to rest. Harry continued to study him until Pomfrey shooed him out.

"No, George, we're not even," Harry thought as he left. "Not by a long shot."

Outside the Infirmary
2:45 p.m.

Harry found Neville waiting for him in the corridor.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked.

"Flint, Theo, and Blaise headed on back to the dungeon until the meeting. Ginny's off to the Library. Fred went to owl home to let them know what had happened and that George was okay. We've got about fifteen minutes before we meet with the staff, so I thought I'd wait for you. What do you think they want with us?"

Harry shrugged. "To collect pensieve memories, maybe?"

"Harry, do you really think Jim was behind this?"

"I don't know. I mean, Jim and explosive runes? Does he know anything about runic magic?"

Neville didn't know. He also didn't know much about life debts which Harry quizzed him about thoroughly. The two friends had made their way to the otherwise empty Great Hall to kill time before McGonagall's meeting started. Neville knew that life debts existed as a concept but wasn't sure if they were actual magical things or simply strong social conventions. And even according to the few stories he'd heard suggesting life debts were magical things, the descriptions were vague. To earn a life debt, you had to save someone else from certain death with no assistance from anyone else and under circumstances where no one else around could have done so in your place. That was why, for instance, Neville never owed Harry a life debt over the troll incident or the confrontation with Quirrell – there were too many people who played a part in saving everyone one else for the one-on-one requirements of the life debt to be satisfied. Beyond that, Neville didn't really know anything else, but he thought his Gran might.

Then, Neville looked up suddenly. "Owl," he said pointing at the open window. Harry turned around in surprise and saw a postal owl gliding in their direction. It landed gracefully between the two and extended a talon towards Harry, who gingerly took the attached letter from the bird. It then flew off majestically as he examined the letter.

To: Harry Potter
From: Magical Me

"Harry? What is it?" Neville asked somewhat nervously in response to the shocked look on Harry's face.

Harry didn't answer. Instead, after a few seconds of hesitation, he impulsively ripped open the envelope and dumped its contents onto the table. There two items inside. One, to Harry's surprise, was a pass to the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library with his name printed on it. It was signed by Gilderoy Lockhart and backdated to before his departure from the school. The other item was a folded piece of parchment. Harry carefully opened it up and read the message inside ... before swooning and then falling backwards onto the floor as Neville excitedly called his name.

The previous day...

Lockhart shrugged with a cheery smile. "Why ask why, Mr. Potter? Perhaps its as the Bard said. 'In this, though I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain.' You know, for a Muggle, Old Billy Shakespeare really had a way with words. ha-Ha!" And then, to Harry's amazement, Lockhart's annoying laugh continued until it became a deranged cackle. "AH-HA, HA-HA-HA, BWA-HA-HA!"

Then, in a blur of motion, Lockhart whipped his wand towards Harry, his laughter suddenly gone and replaced by a look of intense focus. "MNEMOCRYPSIS ALPHA." he intoned, and a burst of light shot from his wand to strike the bound and incapacitated Harry Potter.

"What ... what was that?!" asked the frightened boy who didn't recogize the spell.

"It's the first half of a Memory Lock Charm," the man said before calmly healing the cut to his leg with an Episkey Charm and then fixing the tear in his trousers with a Reparo. "It's a two-part spell. When we're done talking and I'm ready for my exciting departure, I'll resume my position over here and start laughing maniacally again as soon as I cast the second part. Your memory should edit the images of me cackling like a madman together so as to paper over the gap in your memories of our little chat."

"That spell requires me to consent to having my memories locked," Harry said in an angry clipped voice. "What makes you think I'll do so?"

"Well for starters," Lockhart replied, "it's the only way you'll ever find out what's actually going on around here." As the man spoke, he began to wave his wand about the room. Two large steamer trunks slid over next to him and opened themselves, and then various items began to fly off the shelves into the waiting luggage.

"I reckon the other professors can figure out your game, Lockhart. I mean, Snape already figured out you were a fraud by himself."

"Ah, Severus. Such a brilliant and cunning mind, truly worthy of Slytherin. But no, Potter. Severus Snape, despite his many gifts, is simply not on our level." Lockhart hesitated. "Well, not on my level, at least. I'd previously thought that you held great promise, Potter, but frankly, I'm dismayed by the pitiful level of two-dimensional thinking you've shown today."

"Two ... dimensional?!" Harry sputtered, his anger over having his cunning disparaged overtaking his fear for his life.

"Yes!" Lockhart said almost angrily. "Two-dimensional! You know that some mysterious person is running around the school petrifying people. And you know the Defense instructor is mysterious and probably has ulterior motives. And since, in your mind, Hogwarts can't possibly maintain more than one conspiracy at a time, you naturally assume that the Defense instructor is the one doing the petrifying. Two-dimensional!"

Lockhart paused to cast a spell at one of the walls, and a portal appeared leading to the next room. With another wand movement from him, items from that room began to fly in and into the open trunks, mainly locked boxes marked with the names of several of the man's research teams. In particular, Harry noticed the one for Team Chameleon which he knew contained several months' worth of Polyjuice Potions. He wondered why the aurors couldn't just get in through that room, but then realized that it was probably warded as well.

"Wheels within wheels, Potter," Lockhart continued as he worked. "There are more conspiracies active in this school and in the world outside of it than you or I could fully comprehend in a hundred lifetimes. Cuthbert Binns has been dead for over a hundred years, and even he has his own agenda! So let me spell it out for you, Potter. I am a fraud. I am at Hogwarts under false pretenses. But I had nothing to do with the petrifications and, as a matter of fact, have been investigating them myself in secret. And thanks to a conversation I happened to overhear this morning followed by a few hours spent researching in the Library, I now know how the petrifications were accomplished which, frankly, is more than anyone else has figured out so far."

"How?" Harry demanded.

"I have no intention of sharing the fruits of my investigation with someone I cannot trust," Lockhart said calmly.

"You ... you don't think you can trust me?!" Harry said in disbelief. "You're the one who unleashed Fiendfyre in a school!"

"Fiendfyre under controlled circumstances and in a magically-reinforced DADA classroom containing a squad of highly-trained aurors. They'll have that firewall down any second now."

Harry didn't respond, and Lockhart grew visibly frustrated.

"Time is short, Potter, and I don't just mean in this room! Your true enemy has not yet revealed himself but he will very soon now. The fact that the Heir of Slytherin was so bold as to strike down the Headmaster himself means that his plans are nearing their fruition and that he no longer fears the Ministry itself becoming involved! And within minutes, I will be forced out of Hogwarts before I can solve the mystery of who our secret enemy truly is. I need someone on the inside I can count on!"

Harry stared at the man, distrust still obvious on his face. Lockhart sighed and spoke more calmly.

"Harry, 'never trust anyone' is Rule Number One for any good Slytherin. I know that. But the best Slytherins also know that there is a time to set Rule Number One aside and go with your gut instinct. I may have misled you about my nature and my intentions this year, but I also trusted you with knowledge of a spell outlawed by the highest levels of our government. I believed that you could summon a Patronus when everyone else laughed at the idea of a Second Year doing so, and while you've not mastered it yet, you've already come closer to a corporeal Patronus than most adult wizards. And I taught you how to fight with Averto so well that you could duel me more effectively than most of those so-called aurors your father brought as back-up. Now, I won't insult you by asking what your heart is telling you, but what about your instincts? Your cunning?"

Harry glared at the man as seconds ticked by. Then, a light flashed across the surface of the door.

"That's the aurors, Harry. They've already vanquished the Fiendfyre and are now attacking the exterior ward. That will take a minute at most. What say you?"

The boy was silent for another few precious seconds. "What do you want me to do?" he finally said quietly. Lockhart picked Harry's wand up off the bed and handed it to him, leaving himself completely open to attack in the process.

"Verbally consent to the memory lock and then say 'so mote it be.'

For another three precious seconds, Harry waited while considering whether he could take down the man despite being bound himself. The intelligent part of him said it was pointless to try. And some other part of him that he couldn't quite identify but suspected was his "gut" didn't even want to.

"I freely consent to the Obliviation of my memories of everything that has occurred from the time the memory lock spell was initiated the memory lock spell until such time as it is completed. So mote it be."

There was a flash of light from Harry's wand. "Thank you," Lockhart said before taking the wand back and putting it back on the bed. Then, he summoned a racing broom from the back of the room and left it next to the wand. Finally, he snatched up a quill from the desk nearby and dashed off a quick message onto some parchment. He moved back to where Harry lay bound and held it up so the boy could read it.

"The recall code. I'll get it to you as soon as I possibly can."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he read the message. "What?! The answer was there whole time?! Are you serious?"

Lockhart laughed loudly as he folded up the note and put it into his pocket. "No, but I am being truthful." Then, he moved back to where he'd been standing when he first cast the memory lock spell. "Good luck, Harry. MNEMOCRYPSIS OMEGA!"

Harry shook his head as if to clear it. The man's behavior was becoming so bizarre, so out of step with his carefully constructed image, that Harry wondered briefly if one or both of them had gotten a concussion during their earlier duel. Then, his attention was refocused by the enormous BOOM as the sealed door to the room was blasted off its hinges to land on the floor.

Three seconds after Harry read the note...

"Harry!" Neville cried out as he ran around the table to help his friend up.

"I... remember," Harry said dazedly.

"What? What do you remember?"

"Everything," the boy said. Then, he cleared his head and looked towards Neville. "I know how people have been getting petrified. Go to the Staff Meeting. Tell McGonagall and Snape that I'll be there as soon as I can." With that, Harry pulled away from Neville and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?!" Neville exclaimed.

"The Library!" Harry replied. "Some last minute research!" And with that, he was off, running for the Library as fast as he could. In one hand, he clutched the pass to the Restricted Section which he hoped was still valid. In the other, he held a scrap of parchment upon which the recall code for the memory lock was written:

Hogwarts: A History, 1st Edition (publ. 1485)
Chapter 14, Page 193 – "Slytherin's Basilisk"

The Staff Room
2:55 p.m.

As Professor Flitwick made his way to the Staff Room, he was surprised to find a large group of students waiting outside the door. In addition to the Head Boy and Girl and all the Seventh Year prefects, the other attendees included Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Padma Patil, Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini. It was a rather crowded hallway.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Flitwick. "What are all you students doing here?"

"Professor McGonagall sent for us, sir," said Emily Rossum. "Percy Weasley brought me a list of students she wanted to see. Everyone's here but Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and the Weasley Twins, though I think George Weasley is still bed-ridden."

"Really? Professor McGonagall didn't mention anything about this to me," he replied. "Oh well, best come on in so we can find out what's going on."

With that, Flitwick opened the door and led the group of students inside. Immediately, Severus Snape objected, but Flitwick merely shrugged and said "Minerva wanted them here," as he conjured up chairs for the students. Just as he was about to close the door, Neville came running up.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Flitwick," he said breathlessly. "Harry Potter's on his way. He had to stop off at the Library."

Flitwick sighed. "That's quite alright, Mr. Longbottom. Just take a seat next to your peers. Professor McGonagall is running late as well."

At that news, Professor Kettleburn rose from his own seat and headed towards the door marked Wizards. "Well," he said irritably, "if Minerva's going to be late anyway, then I'm heading to the loo!"

The Library
2:57 p.m.

Irma Pince studied the pass with a dubious expression. "This was signed by Professor Lockhart," she said, stating the obvious. "He doesn't teach here anymore. On account of, you know, him being evil or something."

Harry suppressed his annoyance. The Librarian was his least favorite member of the Hogwarts staff, even worse than Binns. He was convinced that if the bitter old woman had her way, no one at all would ever be allowed in the Library so she could hoard all the precious books to herself while residing in a domain of perfect, uninterrupted silence. The Slytherin pasted on his most charming smile.

"Yes, Madam Pince, I do know that. However, if you will note the date, this was issued several weeks before Professor Lockhart's removal. And the book I'm after is necessary for a class project that is ... vital to my academic future."

"What is it? You're far too young for anything dark."

"It's not a dark book, Madam Pince. It's not even a magical book. It's only in the Restricted Section because it's very old and, I assume, very valuable."

Pince looked down at Harry doubtfully. "Which book?"

He handed her the scrap of parchment with the book's name written on it in Lockhart's hand. The Librarian crooked an eyebrow at him and then directed him to a small side room. "Wait in there. Touch nothing."

Surprised, Harry did as instructed and headed towards a nearby reading room, pausing just long enough to wave to Ginny and Amy who were across the Library and following his movements with obvious curiosity. Once inside the room, Harry was surprised by its design. It was a ten-foot diameter circular room with a high domed ceiling and completely devoid of furniture other than a bright-red metallic lectern in the center. Except for that splash of color, every inch of the room was gleaming white. Strangest of all, while the room was brightly lit, there wasn't actually any visible light source. A few minutes later, Pince returned with a thick old book floating behind her in a Protego Orb. She floated the book down onto the lectern and then handed Harry a small black bag containing a pair of white silk gloves and what looked like a white surgical face mask.

"You will wear these at all times while handling the book. Under no circumstances will you allow any contamination to the book. You may use the Gemino Charm to copy relevant passages but no more than ten pages in a single sitting. Any more might damage the book. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said in a respectful voice.

She glared at him for some inexplicable reason and then left the room. Harry exhaled and carefully opened the book to page 193 and began magically copying the ancient yellowed text.

A seldom used storage closet in Gryffindor Tower
2:59 p.m.

Jim Potter finally came to and found himself bound and gagged in a dark room, a cleaning supply closet of some kind if the smell was any clue. He struggled in a panic for almost twenty seconds before he got hold of himself and focused. He knew he'd been stunned, and he feared that his attacker could only have been one person: Ron Weasley, who had been Tom Riddle's thrall for months. Jim cursed himself for his stupidity and self-centeredness. He should have spotted the signs of psychic manipulation in his best friend months before. Or, failing that, he should have been honest with his best friend about being a Parselmouth and thus denied Riddle an opening to turn Ron against him. Jim promised himself that if he got out of his current predicament, he'd save Ron somehow and make it all up to him.

"But first things first," he thought to himself. Jim quickly realized that he'd been bound with the Incarcerous spell which summoned magical ropes to tie up the spell's target. Few people were able to break out of the spell's bindings. But then, few people were the Boy-Who-Lived, and after getting tied up with this same spell the previous spring by Quirinus Quirrell, Jim had developed a strong interest in the field of Muggle escapology. He began to twist around on the floor until he could get a better handle on the ropes which bound him. He could free himself if only he had the time, but he feared that was one advantage he didn't have.

The Staff Room
3:05 p.m.

Minerva McGonagall entered the Staff Room obviously flustered and annoyed. Lily Potter met her at the door.

"Well, Minerva? Are the aurors coming?" she asked.

"No, Lily, they are not!" she said angrily. "I sat with that wretched Hat on my head for twenty minutes trying to make it see reason, but to no avail. Unfortunately, my status is merely that of Acting-Headmistress, and so I lack authority to suppress the castle's wards in any way. I can't even open up the Floo for even one auror to step through. Not even James Potter, and he's a parent. And that will remain the case until Albus has been incapacitated for a period of no less than 72 hours! Honestly! It is intolerable that we should live in the year 1993 and still be bound by enchantments and bindings that were placed upon the castle to fight off invading armies and which have been unchanged since before the Norman Conquest!"

At that, Minerva finally noticed that there were over a dozen students crammed into the room along with the faculty members.

"AND WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME ARE THESE STUDENTS DOING IN HERE?!" she shrieked in a fury.

A sudden silence fell over the room as the student visitors looked back and forth at one another nervously.

"Never mind that," said Silvanus Kettleburn. "All the male faculty members are in here, so who's locked up in the men's toilet when I've got to spend a penny!"

The Library
3:06 p.m

Having copied the relevant material from the very first edition of the school's ancient and storied history, Harry carried the pages out and found a table to do a quick read-through before presenting his findings to McGonagall. He would also need a plausible explanation of how he got the information (since "the apparently insane ex-DADA instructor told me" probably wouldn't fly), but one problem at a time. As he was scanning the information, Ginny and Amy came over to join him.

"You seem unusually intense, Potter," said Amy. "What's up?"

He looked up at the two girls with a satisfied expression. "I know how people are being petrified. Or more accurately, I know what's petrifying people. Now, I just need to figure out who's controlling the blasted thing."

Ginny and Amy looked at one another for a second. Then, without even asking permission, they moved around the table so that each could read the copied papers over Harry's shoulders.

From Hogwart's: A History, 1st Edition, Chapter 14, page 193

As Hogwart's neared the end of its first decade, the Founders were finally forced to turn their attention from matters of curriculum and school discipline to the more vexing matter of external defense. In those dark times, England was riven by magical dangers. Giants stalked the lands in sizeable numbers, while dragons still roamed the skies. Bands of trolls engaged in brigandry and violence. The goblins were ever restive in their caverns, and the Wizarding Council which would one day become the Wizengamot was ever reckless in challenging the goblins' autonomy. Finally, in the last years of the First Millennium Anno Domini, no less than three Dark Lords plagued England and threatened conquest against Hogwarts, though each of their armies in turn was forced back by the Founders' puissance. Nevertheless, the Founders agreed that the castle needed permanent defenses.

To that end, Lord Gryffindor had his goblin allies forge a magnificent sword, shield, helm and suit of armor which would be worn by the bravest of his House into battle against any attackers (see "Gryffindor's Panoply," page 198), and he also provided the school's many enchanted suits of armor which would follow him into battle if need be (see "Hogwarts' Guardians," Ibid.). Lady Ravenclaw used her peerless knowledge of geomancy to weave wards about the castle's' infrastructure unmatched by any manse of the day (see Appendix C for a complete description of the ward scheme as of this writing). Lady Hufflepuff brought a veritable menagerie of magical creatures bound by either oath or treaty to live in the Enchanted Forest and come to Hogwarts' defense if called, and to Black Lake, she summoned a kraken from the bottomless depths of the ocean, bound it to Hogwarts' protection, and gifted it with near-immortality. (For more information, see Appendix F for a complete list of all magical species brought to Hogwarts by Lady Hufflepuff).

But perhaps the most potent, and certainly the most controversial defense, was Lord Slytherin's contribution: the Great Basilisk. For this was no mere death-dealing serpent of the breed first conjured by Herpo the Foul. Slytherin had modified the enchanted egg from whence the King of Serpents would emerge, imbuing it with magical essences drawn from other creatures and granting his creation attributes far different and greater and more useful than that of a lesser basilisk. From a Thracian Gorgon, Slytherin provided his serpent with a gaze that would petrify rather than instantly kill thereby avoiding the risk of slaying friend along with foe in the event of a siege. From a Mountain Troll, Slytherin granted his creation with amazing regenerative powers. From a Welsh Green Dragon, Slytherin covered the King of Serpents with magic-resistant scales. From a Great European Strix, Slytherin blessed his basilisk with the power to move in utter silence as it hunted. From a phoenix...

The Staff Room
3:07 p.m.

"I was given to understand, Minerva," said Professor Flitwick, "that you had requested these students to be here so that we could all interview them."

"I gave no such instructions, Filius! Miss Rossum, explain yourself!"

The Head Girl coughed nervously. "Professor, Percy Weasley came by with a list of students that he said you wanted here for the meeting. It was everyone here, plus Harry Potter and the Weasley Twins."

"I haven't seen Percival Weasley all day! This is most peculiar!"

Snape stiffened. "More than peculiar I think." Then, he turned around to address the entire room. "EVERYONE OUT OF HERE! NOW! STUDENTS AND FACULTY BOTH!"

"Severus, what's wrong?" McGonagall asked with concern. Behind them both, Professor Kettleburn ignored Snape's shouting (or perhaps simply didn't hear it - significant loss of hearing was one of the many disabilities he'd acquired through his decades as a CoMC instructor), as he continued his single-minded obsession with getting into the men's toilet.

"Minerva!" Severus snapped. "For once, will you please just trust Slytherin instincts?!"

She hesitated and then nodded. "Everyone, do as Professor Snape says. Leave this room at once!"

Not needing to be told twice, Blaise Zabini (who was armed with excellent Slytherin instincts of his own) was the first at the door. It wouldn't open.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "The door's locked."

Suddenly alarmed, McGonagall pushed past the boy to test the door herself. Her blood ran cold. The door wasn't locked – it was warded shut.

"ALOHOMORA," said Kettleburn from the opposite side of the room. The door to the faculty men's room finally swung open. Kettleburn's eyes widened as a deep terrifying hiss suddenly filled the Staff Room.

"Morgana's saggy ...!" was as far as the elderly professor got before he fell over backwards onto the floor – petrified.

Then, the screams started.

From Hogwart's: A History, 1st Edition, Chapter 14, page 194

Designed as a living anti-siege weapon, the Basilisk was in many ways a part of the castle itself. Slytherin's genius made use of sympathetic magic to link the creature with the castle's very infrastructure so that the mighty serpent could travel to wherever it was needed. It could enter the castle's plumbing system at any point and travel to any exit point at the command of its master regardless of the size of the connecting pipes. It could materialize out of a sluice gate that led into the moat or within the Great Black Lake via the conduits that supplied water to the Slytherin dungeons, and by those means, it could flank any armies on the Hogwarts grounds or attack them from the rear. And if Hogwarts itself were ever overrun, the Basilisk could even travel through its interior pipes to strike at will against intruders, entering even the smallest rooms with the aid of size-altering Charms that were a part of its inherent magical nature.

Lady Hufflepuff declared herself delighted with Slytherin's Basilisk, for she was known for her peaceable nature and was pleased that the creature could so easily incapacitate the school's enemies without killing them outright. As a gesture of her esteem, she fashioned an enchanted ewer for Lord Slytherin which could facilitate the swift revivification of allies who had been inadvertently petrified and of captured intruders who were wanted for interrogation or ransom. After the legendary Hufflepuff Cup (see page 79), Hufflepuff's Ewer is considered her most ingenious enchantment.

Lord Gryffindor and Lady Ravenclaw were less enamored of the Basilisk, however. Ostensibly, they disapproved of the procedures by which the great serpent was birthed, as the magical cross-breeding techniques Slytherin used were (and are) considered inherently dark. Unmoved, Lord Slytherin intimated his belief that Lord Gryffindor and Lady Ravenclaw were simply jealous of how much more impressive an addition the Basilisk was to the castle's defenses than their own offerings, a position which led to much strife among the Founders. Finally, a compromise was reached, and Lord Slytherin made several modifications to the Basilisk's nature, instilling within it certain inherent weaknesses to make it acceptable to his peers ...

The Staff Room
3:09 p.m.

The sheer impossibility of a creature that size somehow fitting in the Staff Room, let alone the washroom from which it emerged, was such a surprise that most of those present couldn't help but look at the monster in amazement. And it is the nature of a basilisk that to look at one for any length of time is to be defeated by it. Most of the faculty and students were petrified before they could even draw wands. Blaise turned around instinctively at the first sign of trouble and was turned into a statue that now blocked the door against anyone else trying to escape. Theo Nott's fingers were almost in place to twist his Notice-Me-Not ring when they were stilled. Marcus Flint and Emily Rossum (to the surprise of both) were locked in a half-embrace when the Basilisk's eyes found them. Lily Potter placed herself between the monster and those children who were not yet petrified and tried to protect them all with a Protego, forgetting in her haste that the Protego shield is transparent and no defense against a basilisk's gaze. She and the three prefects who stood near her were the next to be transfixed. Flitwick unleashed a deadly flock of ravens armed with razor-like talons that would have flayed any lesser creature alive, but they all dropped to the ground like stones before they could inflict any damage. The diminutive professor followed his summoned birds into petrification barely a second later.

Certain that he was about to die, Severus Snape tried to take the monster with him. He kept his eyes off the Basilisk for as long as possible before unleashing his most dangerous spell in its general direction. "SECTUMSEMPRA!" Instantly, whirling blades of pure magical force lashed out at the basilisk, causing huge bloody gashes to appear all over its body. Snape had a moment of satisfaction. Then, to his shock, the wounds from the most damaging spell he knew short of the Killing Curse simply faded from view. "Regeneration," he thought in amazement. "Like a troll!" And then, he thought nothing else.

The last adult in the room focused her attention not on fighting the monster but on protecting the few children not yet petrified. McGonagall lashed out with her wand, and a large sofa flipped itself up and over before melting into the shape of a protective opaque dome that landed on top of Neville and Hermione. However, this attracted the monster's attention towards her. She jumped, and her form suddenly flowed like mercury, but it was a brown tabby cat with spectacle-like markings around its eyes that landed on the floor and fell over, petrified.

And then there were two, both stuck for the moment underneath McGonagall's improvised barrier: Hermione Granger, who immediately set herself to the task of transfiguring a hole in the floor through which they might escape, and Neville Longbottom, who clutched his wand in a death grip as he desperately tried to remember the smell of sea salt in the air and the feel of ice-cold waves crashing over him.

The Library
3:10 p.m.

"Merlin's bones!" exclaimed Ginny, earning herself a loud "SHHH!" from Madam Pince. "So that's what petrified Professor Dumbledore and the others?" she whispered more softly.

"I think so," said Harry. "But now that we know what it is, we can stop it. We just need to get this information to ..."

Harry was suddenly interrupted by the sudden arrival of a very large bear, which was a decidedly unexpected development in a library, as denoted by the number of people who screamed at the sight of it. It appeared to be a medium-sized brown bear or perhaps a small grizzly save for its glowing silvery appearance. Harry's surprise was only compounded when the beast spoke in the terrified voice of Neville Longbottom.

"HARRY! SEND HELP! ME AND HERMIONE ARE IN THE STAFF ROOM WITH A BASILISK! EVERY BODY ELSE IS ALREADY... OH NO - "

Instantly, Neville's bear Patronus (and how perfectly "Neville" it was for the boy to pick this moment to both master the corporeal Patronus and use it to send Harry a warning message) winked out of existence. Harry had a single instant of terrified paralysis. Then, in a flash, he gathered up all his papers and ran out of the Library, with Ginny, Amy, and the furious complaints of Irma Pince all following behind him.

Outside the Staff Room
3:13 p.m.

The Heir of Slytherin waited patiently until the last of the screams and spell-fire stopped. Then, he hissed softly and commanded the Basilisk to return to the Chamber of Secrets where it slumbered when its master had no work for it. The Heir was still hidden beneath the Potter Invisibility Cloak, as he currently still wore the shape of Percy Weasley and would continue to do so for some time yet. Such a pity that Lockhart's team had never found a way to end the effects of Polyjuice Potion prematurely. Not that it would matter, really. He was nearly done with this body whatever its shape. Within a few hours, he'd have a new body, one he would not need to share with anyone else, and then the need for even the tiniest concession to subtlety would finally come to an end.

The Heir flicked Ron Weasley's wand towards the door to the Staff Room which quietly swung open. He poked his head in and turned around. As expected, there was no one left in the room, whether teacher or student, who wasn't paralyzed by the Basilisk's gaze. Paralyzed until someone showed up with enough of the priceless Restoration Potion for dozens of people people. Not that he'd be giving them that much time anyway before he returned to finish what he'd started, permanently this time. The Heir grinned triumphantly.

"Checkmate."

The next chapter will be posted sometime between April 25 and April 27.

AN 1: "Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin" has been nominated for an award from Fanatic Fanfics. While I'm very flattered, I'm also realistic as I'm up against "Harry Potter and the Nightmares of Future Past" and "A Marauder's Plan," both of which I highly recommend, as well as 30 or so other HP fics that I am not familiar with. Voting ends on May 2, 2016.

AN 2: And a Happy 1st Anniversary to everyone who's been here with me since Chapter 1, which was uploaded on April 17, 2015.