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 44: The Riddle of the Diary

9 May 1993
8:30 p.m. in the Chamber of Secrets

Once it was clear that Jim would soon make a full recovery, Harry told Ginny to stay with him while he took care of one final loose end. Then, Harry carefully stepped through the still-open mouth of the Salazar Slytherin statue and into the chamber within. As he did so, the boy's thoughts were churning even beneath the calm exterior provided by his Occlumency. Unlike Tom Riddle, who had completely excised that part of his own psyche responsible for love and empathy, Harry still had all of his emotions. They were separated from the part of his mind that would determine a course of action (and could even be shut down completely when necessary in the case of emotional responses that might actually become debilitating), but he definitely still had them. And now that the crisis was over, he would need to spend some time soon meditating on those emotions to determine how he felt about things, and more importantly why he felt them.

Item one on the agenda was his cold-blooded decision to use the Notice-Me-Not ring and the Invisibility Cloak just for himself, thereby abandoning his brother to run for his life. Intellectually, it was the right play, a fact borne out not just by Jim's survival but also by his nearly miraculous acquisition of the Sword of Gryffindor. The stratagem also allowed Harry time to interrogate the shade of Tom Riddle and uncover invaluable information about Voldemort. However, that didn't change the fact that he had essentially betrayed his own brother and then used him as bait for one of the deadliest creatures known to wizard-kind. Jim hadn't called him on it – yet – but Harry realized that he'd acted like the absolute worst caricature of a "Slimy Slytherin."

Item two was more straightforward. When Jim returned with the sword just in time for a climactic final battle with the snake, Harry had been about two seconds away from incinerating Ron Weasley. Intellectually, he still thought it was also the right play. If Tom was to be believed, Ron would be dead within a few minutes regardless and his death would bring about the physical rebirth of Voldemort. However, with Ron dead before that could happen, the diary would have been neutralized as a threat and either Harry or Jim would probably have been able to control the Basilisk with Parseltongue. That said, while Harry might not care for Ron Weasley, the young Gryffindor was still a human being. He was also a member of the Weasley family, most of whom Harry rather liked, and the boy was someone with whom Harry shared several common friends. And unlike Draco, whose petty maliciousness had led Harry to consider extreme measures the year before, Ron was basically an innocent dupe, if a somewhat annoying one. All of which meant that the lingering question of "Is Harry Potter a potential killer?" was one that he would need to come to grips with soon.

Item three was perhaps the most vexing. When Jim was dying of basilisk poisoning and Harry's cocky assurance that a bezoar would cure him was revealed as misplaced (and how embarrassing it was for Jim to remember something Snape said that the aspiring Occlumens had forgotten), Harry had shut down his emotional responses. The idea was that rather than become overwrought by his brother's impending death, he could stay calm and try to give Jim a measure of hope in his last seconds. Again, Harry thought it was the right decision. What made it vexing was that it was even necessary. His brief flashback to the first Potions class had made him suddenly remember the level of animosity between them during their first year. And Harry had considered their relationship to be even worse during their second year, only to realize lately that most of their conflicts had resulted from the combination of Jim's use of a dark Occlumency text and Tom Riddle's various schemes and mindgames. Harry had been shocked at Jim's "deathbed apology," to say nothing of his admission that he'd felt jealous of Harry because he feared losing their parents' affection. And now, as a developing Third Level Occlumens, Harry could examine his own emotions and see how much of a role jealousy had played in his own conflicts with Jim. His twin, after all, played no part in Harry being sent to the Dursleys. In fact, since they were twins, it could just as easily have been Harry who became the Boy-Who-Lived out of a freak anomaly and Jim who was sent to live with abusive Muggles. Perhaps it was time for Harry to finally sort out his feelings for Jim Potter and decide whether a fresh start was possible, let alone desirable. Well, with Jim anyway – Harry still thought genuine trust was completely impossible where their parents were concerned.

All of these thoughts whirled through Harry's mind as he entered the portal that opened from the mouth of the Slytherin statue.

"Harry!" Jim called out being him, still somewhat weakly. "What are you doing?"

"Back in a second," Harry replied without looking back. "Don't worry."

The interior chamber which had housed the Basilisk for untold centuries was a cylindrical room about forty feet across. The floor was stonework save for an ornate metal disk in the center about ten-feet in diamater. It was silver and appeared to be a nest of intertwined snakes of all kinds. On the far side of the room was a life-sized statue of Slytherin (the whole figure this time, not just his head) carved into the wall as a bas-relief. Harry paused long enough to put a minor privacy charm over the entryway so that Jim and Ginny couldn't hear him. Then, he strode over to the bust and addressed it in Parseltongue.

"Speak to me Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Harry smiled the seemingly arrogant password, as Hogwarts: A History had explained its origins. The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Founders had demanded significant modifications to the design of the Basilisk before they would approve of its presence at the school. Slytherin acquiesced, but later petulantly added the password to both the entrance to the Chamber and to the false wall where the Ewer was hidden. As a result, future Headmasters regardless of their House would have to verbally acknowledge his genius in order to make use of the Basilisk. Godric Gryffindor had been furious when he found out.

With a soft grinding sound, the section of wall containing the statue rotated around to reveal a small side table. On it rested a fluted crystal pitcher with a copper and silver base depicting badgers and snakes intertwining. There was a bright green liquid inside. Harry carefully removed the Ewer of Hufflepuff and started back before pausing to study the disk in the floor more carefully. He spared a glance back at the entrance to make sure no one was coming. Then, he hissed in the direction of the disk. "Open." The snakes began to move and separate, revealing a four-foot-deep depression in the floor. Inside was an emerald green egg big enough to hold a toddler ... or a baby basilisk. Harry smiled. Slytherin's Basilisk had the essence of a phoenix incorporated into its making, and while it wouldn't burn up and be instantly reborn, the death of its adult body would inevitably lead to rebirth from a new egg here within this chamber. Harry closed the snake-hatch again, dispelled the privacy charm, and exited the chamber.

Outside, Ginny and Jim were standing over the still unconscious Ron Weasley. Fawkes was perched almost protectively on Jim's shoulder.

"You feel ready to go, Jim?"

"Yeah, surprisingly. Phoenix tears are good stuff. I'm not even sore from all the falling and fighting I did."

"Good." Harry turned his attention to the phoenix. "Fawkes? I don't know if you can understand me, but this container holds a potion that can cure the Headmaster of his petrification. Also, Ron here probably needs to see the nurse as soon as possible. Can you transport us to the infirmary?"

The bird cawed loudly and then spread its magnificent plumage. Flames shot out of the tips of the bird's wings and then wrapped around the four students to envelop them. There was a brilliant flash, and then the Chamber of Secrets was empty.

An instant later, the flames cleared, and as Harry had hoped, they were now in the middle of the Infirmary, much to the surprise of those present who were not petrified: Madam Pomfrey, James Potter, Rufus Scrimgeour, and the majority of the Weasley family who were all crowded around George's bed.

"Jim! Harry!" James exclaimed. He rushed forward to embrace both boys. Jim hugged his father back, while Harry was a bit more perfunctory, but neither rejected their father despite his recent shortcomings. Most of the Weasleys crowded around Ginny first and then Ron after Arthur carefully levitated the unconscious boy into a bed next to George's.

"So I take it reopening the investigation into Myrtle's death worked?" Harry asked. James grimaced uncomfortably, but it was Scrimgeour who spoke.

"Your suggestion was ingenious, Mr. Potter, but your father would not have been able to process the paperwork to reopen the investigation before tomorrow morning. Fortunately, someone else was on hand to provide a faster and equally ingenious way to circumvent the school's wards."

"Who?" asked Jim curiously.

"Lucius Malfoy! When the Minister advised him of the situation, Lucius exercised his authority as Chairman of the Board of Governors to arrange an 'impromptu careers fair' tonight at the school, and he invited a cross section of Ministry personnel here ostensibly to speak on the topic of job opportunities within our government. Among them are a dozen aurors and three Unspeakables who are taking the opportunity to restore order and begin an investigation while Ludo Bagman regales the students in the Great Hall with stories of his Quidditch days. That should kill another hour or so, after which various other functionaries will speak about what their departments do. In the meantime, the aurors are prepping for a complete evacuation of the school and an elite squad of hit wizards are getting ready to descend into the Chamber of Secrets. Of course, that expedition is obviously rendered moot by your own sudden arrival. So, as impressive as your appearance is, Mr. Potter, and as moving as these family reunions are, will someone please explain what's been going on?"

"I'd be happy to, Chief Auror," said Harry respectfully. "But first, might I suggest that we begin the process of reviving the petrified victims?" He held up the Ewer. "This is the Ewer of Hufflepuff, created simultaneously with Slytherin's Basilisk. According to Hogwarts: A History, it will produce one full dose of the Restoration Potion every seventeen minutes. If you revive the Headmaster first, I assume evacuation will no longer be necessary.

Pomfrey gingerly took the Ewer and carried it off to study it and make sure it worked as advertised.

"You're sure about that, Harry?" asked James Potter. Harry nodded confidently. "But what about the Basilisk?"

"Dead," said Harry flatly. "Jim killed it, and may I say with extraordinary skill and courage. Plus, he even used the Sword of Gryffindor to do it, which I should hope will kill all this Heir of Slytherin nonsense."

With that, Jim held up the sword and handed it gingerly to his father. "Careful, Dad. It's coated with Basilisk venom, so it will kill pretty much anything it cuts unless you're lucky enough to have a phoenix on hand that likes you." Fawkes, who was still perched on Jim's shoulder, cawed his agreement.

James looked back and forth between his two sons and the sword in amazement, before finally dropping the sword and pulling first Jim and then Harry once more into a tight embrace. Jim became misty-eyed while Harry was distinctly uncomfortable but determined not to show it. Meanwhile, Ginny was busy telling her family the basics about Ron – that he had come into possession of a dark artifact that had been manipulating his emotions all year long before eventually possessing him outright and using his body to petrify everyone. She was surprisingly firm in telling her family members that it was not Ron's fault and that they should all be supportive when he woke up, particularly since, but for a stroke of luck, it might have been her that was tricked and possessed by the spirit of the diary. In particular, she gave Fred a look that he found mildly threatening.

The Headmaster had been placed into a private room into which the three Potters and Scrimgeour were now crowded. Having confirmed its properties, Madam Pomfrey fed the potion to Professor Dumbledore, and after a few seconds he blinked and then sat bolt upright in his bed, his wand suddenly appearing in his hand as he looked around wildly.

"Where is Ronald Weasley?" were his first words after revival. Harry took a step forward.

"He's here in the infirmary, unconscious." Harry hesitated. "He was possessed, but ... the one who possessed him has been removed and dealt with."

Dumbledore blinked as he absorbed that. "How long have I been petrified?"

"Less than forty-eight hours," said Scrimgeour. "What do you remember, Albus?"

The old man collected himself and took a sip of water from a glass on his bedside table. Fawkes jumped from Jim's shoulder to the top of the headboard behind him. Madam Pomfrey completed her diagnosis before Scrimgeour shooed her out, much to the Matron's annoyance. Dumbledore began to speak.

"I remember encountering young Mr. Weasley who obviously showed signs of possession by," Dumbledore hesitated, "well, by a dark spirit, one I believe I recognized. Before I could act, there was a movement from behind me and then ... well, as the saying goes, I just remember big yellow eyes."

"Ron was possessed by Tom Riddle, sir," said Jim. "Better know to all of us as ... Voldemort." A silence descended over the room.

"Tom Riddle ... was ... Voldemort?!" Dumbledore said in evident shock. The reaction of the two aurors was one of surprise, but that was nothing compared to Dumbledore who nearly swooned before putting his head down into his hands for several seconds.

"Albus?" James stepped forward, alarmed at the old man's reaction. Dumbledore put his hand up to forestall any questions. Finally, he lifted his head, though his expression shaken.

"Forgive me, my friends. I was suddenly overcome by the effects of having to reassimilate several years worth of memories that had been altered in some fashion. It was ... unpleasant. Now tell me, Jim, Harry – how did you learn all of this?"

Jim shrugged. "He just sort of ... told us. You-Know-Who's a bit a gloater." As he spoke, Harry fished the remains of the Diary out of Ron's bag and handed it to the Headmaster.

"This Diary once belonged to Tom Marvolo Riddle when he was a student, and the name on the cover is also an anagram for I Am Lord Voldemort. Sir, given the timing involved between Riddle's disappearance and Voldemort's first appearance ... well, no offense, but how did no one figure this out?"

"A provocative question, indeed, my boy." Dumbledore took the book from Harry and examined it for a few minutes before waving his wand over it in an extremely intricate pattern while muttering some obscure incantations. After a few seconds, a highly elaborate rune sequence appeared over the Diary.

"Oh, oh my word ... what a brilliant mind!" Then, the man suddenly looked saddened. "And what a tragedy that such a brilliant mind should be turned to such evil." Dumbledore looked over and gestured for Scrimgeour to step forward and examine the runes. "Here, Rufus, do you see?"

The Chief Auror hobbled over and pulled out a set of brass spectacles before examining the runes that had so excited Dumbledore. "Is ... is that a Fidelius?"

"I thought a Fidelius just conceals locations," said Jim. "Homes and hiding places. That sort of thing."

Dumbledore shook his head. "The Fidelius can theoretically conceal secrets of a less tangible nature, but only in the most exceptionally skilled hands." He looked over at the Potter twins. "But before we make any further inquiries, I must ask you both to tell us everything that has happened to you today."

And without preamble, they did. Jim's account was fairly straightforward, while Harry's omitted a few details. If Dumbledore noticed any inconsistencies, he did not inquire after them.

"One final question. Harry, you spent the most time with the manifestation of Tom Riddle who claimed to be Voldemort. What were your impressions of him?"

Harry thought about that for a moment. "Surprisingly, a bit of a let down. He was very emotional and impulsive. He had multiple chances to kill Jim and me both, but he was more interested in showing off his Basilisk when he could have just finished us off with a wand. He ..." Harry hesitated. "From what he said, I gathered that he had put bits of his soul into the Diary and other objects and that's what was keeping him from fully dying." Dumbledore and Scrimgeour both went pale at that suggestion. "Anyway," Harry continued, "I sort of had the theory that the Diary was the first such object, and that he'd deliberately made it less ... Voldemortish, I suppose, because he was still experimenting with the process."

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe you're partially correct, Harry. Voldemort did place a fragment of his soul inside this book, using the most foul and despicable of arts and a spell whose name I will not repeat. Then, using forbidden soul magics, he crafted a personality for it. One based on his own and which actually believed that it was a manifestation of Tom Riddle but which differed from the true Voldemort just enough to suit his needs."

"What needs?" asked James in confusion.

"I'm surprised you don't recall, James, having once been under a Fidelius yourself. It is a fundamental limitation of the spell that you cannot be the Keeper of your own Secret, or else you or Lily could have served as the Secret Keeper for Godric's Hollow instead of Sirius Black, and much unhappiness could have been avoided." Dumbledore waved his wand again, and the floating runes changed. "The specific secret protected by this Fidelius is 'Tom Marvolo Riddle is the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort.' Clearly, he decided at some point to become the leader of a Pureblood supremacist movement despite his own blood status which lay somewhere between Muggleborn and Halfblood, depending on how one considered the question. So who else could he have possibly trusted with knowledge of his deception when his most trusted followers were the ones most likely to turn against him if they knew the truth?"

"Another version of himself!" Harry exclaimed. "An artificial personality that believed that it was him but that was so different in character that it could be considered a separate person for purposes of the Fidelius spell!"

"Well stated, Harry. From what you told me, Harry, the Riddle of the Diary spoke disparagingly of his Muggle father but was protective of the memory of his mother. My recollection, however, is that Tom had refused for many years to believe that his wizarding heritage could come from his mother who he despised for, in his mind, being so weak as to have died in childbirth. And whatever his feelings about his birth father, he continued to use the name Riddle even after his school days even though he was legally entitled to assume the name Gaunt and possibly profit from the family's former social standing."

Scrimgeour frowned. "So this Riddle chap, after he graduates, reinvents himself as Lord Voldemort and persuades a bunch of rich Pureblood bigots that he's the next big thing? How does that work?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I'm sure he made quite an impression. Tom was indubitably brilliant and charismatic. His Parseltongue gift would have been powerful evidence that he was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. And yet, the Fidelius would have thwarted any attempts to find out his true origins, which would only have added to Voldemort's mystique."

"Yeah, but the Fidelius is destroyed now, right?" said Jim. "So should we call a press conference and announce to the whole world that You-Know-Who isn't as Pureblooded as he claimed?"

"As tempting as it is to shout the truth from every rooftop in Diagon Alley, I recommend we be circumspect for now," Scrimgeour said thoughtfully. "You know, I'm suddenly reminded of one of Alastor Moody's crazier conspiracy theories. Towards the end of the war, he was convinced that Voldemort's motives were more complicated than merely taking over the country and running it as a blood purist dictatorship. The Death Eater attacks that targeted Muggleborns and Muggles were generally haphazard and seemingly random terrorist attacks. But when he went after influential Purebloods who the Death Eaters considered blood traitors, he was remarkably precise. Is it possible that after all that time, poor put-upon Tom Riddle was still trying to get revenge on the Purebloods for how they treated him as a schoolboy?"

"I suppose that would explain why he was so happy to use the Cruciatus against his Pureblood followers left, right, and center," James said. "In which case, revealing the truth now, when the peace is still somewhat fragile, might actually cause people to turn against Muggleborns if they knew that Voldemort actually was one himself and was just manipulating Purebloods into wiping each other out."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore distractedly. "I must confess, I am still reeling over the implications of Tom's use of the Fidelius in the manner we've seen. You may recall, Harry, a conversation we had in which I mentioned turning Tom down for the DADA position in 1953 but not being able to remember why?" The boy nodded. "Well, I certainly remember now! Since Tom had left Hogwarts, all sorts of rumors had been swirling about the young man, the company he kept, and the sorts of magic he'd been pursuing. Between 1945 and 1953, he had been considered a potential suspect in no less than three murders, though nothing was ever proven."

"Was one of them Nobby Leech?" Harry asked to Dumbledore's surprise.

"No, actually. Leech's death was always believed to have been a sudden illness. Do you know have reason to suspect otherwise?"

Harry nodded and explained what they had learned about the 1943 Muggleborn conspiracy to embarrass the school's Slytherins with carefully arranged attacks on Muggleborn conspirators. "And it just so happens that the petrified Muggleborns who were part of the conspiracy all ended up dead before 1960."

"Interesting," James nodded. "I'll look into it. See if there's any evidence of foul play in those deaths."

Suddenly, Jim spoke up excitedly. "Headmaster, I got to see a memory of you and Tom together on the night Myrtle was killed. It seemed like you were suspicious of him even then."

Dumbledore nodded. "There had always been something about Tom Riddle that had always troubled me for reasons I could never fully articulate. But I remember that night, now that the Fidelius is broken. And I also remember being nearly certain that Tom had something to do with the girl's death, even more so when he put forth poor Hagrid as the culprit."

"But the Fidelius made you forget that?" Harry asked incredulously. "You talked about Tom in glowing terms when we discussed him earlier."

"Yes, I did indeed. Consider, Harry, the precise words of the secret contained in the Fidelius. 'Tom Marvolo Riddle is the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort.' The secret kept was not only the connection between Tom and Voldemort but the fact that Tom was a dark wizard at all. The result was that every single thing I had ever observed that made me deeply suspicious of his character was occluded from my memory. Me, a seventh-level Occlumens, and with a single spell, Voldemort altered years of my memories! And not just mine, but those of everyone who knew him during his school days!"

Harry stiffened slightly at how the Headmaster had framed the issue. He recalled his own recent experience with a spell that could affect the memories of the whole world – one so powerful and dangerous that Professor Lockhart had warned him never to speak its name aloud where anyone from the Ministry might hear.

"It's not your fault, Albus," said Scrimgeour. "The Fidelius is an incredibly powerful spell. More than a few wizards have argued that it should be proscribed."

"Intellectually, I realize that, Rufus, but it's still a sobering thought. You know, an advanced study of memory charms was one of dear Gilderoy's special projects this year. I think it might behoove me to spend some time going over that team's findings."

Before Dumbledore could expand on that, they were all distracted by a commotion out in the main part of the infirmary, one that included the unmistakable sound of a boy screaming.

It seemed like an eternity that Ron Weasley had spent trapped in his own memories and nightmares. He remembered being in Percy's study room with the Other Ron. He remembered the absolute naked horror of wave after wave of spiders crawling up his throat and out of his mouth and nose. He remembered (to his shame) how he broke down and surrendered to the Other Ron, and then things going black. He even remembered the despair he felt when he realized he had surrendered for nothing. When he came out of his stupor, he was wrapped in pitch darkness and lying horizontally in a narrow wooden box. He only narrowly fought off the urge to panic when he realized it was a coffin, and again when the smell of dank musty earth told him that he'd been buried alive. Despite his mounting terror, he didn't lose control until the first spider crawled up over his forehead.

Ron Weasley really hated spiders.

Mercifully, they never came from inside him like they had before and there didn't seem to be as many of them. But still the spiders came with their wriggling hairy legs crawling all over him, inside his clothes and all over his body. At first, he blubbered incoherently, but after some unknowable span of time, his cries became more focused. Specifically, he screamed out Jim's name and called out for the Boy-Who-Lived to save him. Time passed, and no rescue came, but despite that, Ron's cries died down into a whispered mantra that he recited over and over: Jim will save me.

At some point, over the soft sound of his own whispered plea (Jim will save me. Jim will save me.) Ron became aware of other sounds. Angry taunts in his voice but using someone else's words. A terrible awful hissing sound. And then, something inexplicable yet wonderful. Ron could feel that Tom Riddle was suddenly afraid for his own life (or whatever passed for life for him). Which was also Ron's life, but at that point, Ron would have been happy to die if it meant the monster from the Diary would die with him. But Ron didn't die. Instead, he suddenly heard Tom screaming with Ron's voice, a sound that was music to the boy's ears. And then, everything went black again.

Time passed until, suddenly, there was a brilliant light from overhead. Ron found himself lying in a hospital bed in the school's infirmary. Surrounding him were most of the members of his family. Arthur, who he'd thought had considered him just "one of the spares." George, who he'd tried to get expelled. Fred, who he did get expelled. Percy, who he was pretty sure he'd physically attacked during one of his most recent blackouts. Ginny, who he'd referred to as "Daddy's Little Death Eater." And Molly, who had sent the Howler that had convinced him that she would never love him as much as Ginny.

Ron screamed again.

Immediately, the boy started thrashing in his bed and batting at his clothing, convinced that he was still in a nightmare and so there must still be spiders on him somewhere. Alarmed, his brothers tried to hold him down while Madam Pomfrey practically forced a Calming Draught down his throat. And then a second one and a third. Soon after, the boy stopped screaming but continued weeping piteously as he deliriously mumbled his pleas for forgiveness from his family, from Jim, and from everyone else around, including the petrification victims. By that point, the Potters, Scrimgeour, and Dumbledore had joined the group, and Jim was with the Weasleys (all their prior animosities forgotten for the moment) as he tried to reassure Ron that he wasn't responsible for the petrifications or anything else that had happened. Then, a loud cough followed by an icy voice intruded into their efforts. Two new figures had entered the infirmary: Minister Cornelius Fudge ... and Lucius Malfoy, who glared hatefully at the entire Weasley family.

"Forgive me, Mr. Potter," he said in a voice like silk dipped in poison. "But would you mind repeating that? It rather sounded as though you said the Weasley boy played some role in the petrification of my son and heir!"

"Er, yes," said Fudge nervously. "I think I would like to know what's going on as well. Albus?"

"Your son will be revived within a few hours, Lucius," Dumbledore said. "As my own mobility attests, we now have access to as much Restoration Potion as we need thanks to the resourcefulness of Jim and Harry Potter. As for the details, perhaps it would be best if continued this discussion in the more comfortable confines of my office."

"We will continue only after my immediate question has been answered, Dumbledore. Was the Weasley boy the one responsible for the petrification of my son?" The look on Malfoy's face, while still a perfect mask of emotional control, nevertheless promised bloody vengeance against the entire Weasley family if that question was answered affirmatively. Everyone in the room tensed in response, and the Weasleys gathered protectively around Ron. Percy actually cast a nonverbal Silencio on the boy for fear he might blurt out a confession.

During all this, Harry, who was standing just behind Dumbledore, studied Lucius Malfoy carefully and even dilated slightly so that he could review everything he knew about the man's possible connections to the events of the past year. He suspected from their last conversation that Lucius knew something about Tom Riddle. It was unlikely (in light of the Fidelius) that he actually knew that Riddle and Voldemort were the same person, but the name definitely meant something to him. Then, Harry's mental review suddenly pulled up another oddity – that bizarre incident from the previous summer when Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley got into a public brawl in front of Flourish and Blotts.

And then, as if looking through a kaleidoscope that had suddenly come into focus, Harry understood. He took a step forward and gently tugged on Dumbledore's sleeve. The Headmaster looked down at him in surprise, and that surprise only grew when Harry looked him squarely in the eyes, dropped all of his Occlumency defenses, and thought as clearly as he could "Please, let me handle this." Dumbledore's face remained impassive, but on the other side of him, Scrimgeour suddenly turned to look towards Harry and then tilted his head slightly. Then, Dumbledore turned back towards Lucius with a genial expression.

"I would be happy to answer your question, Lucius, but I believe young Mr. Potter here can satisfy your curiosity more thoroughly than I."

"Albus?" James started in surprise at the thought of his son in a dialogue with a former Death Eater like Malfoy. But before he could say anything more, Scrimgeour put a firm hand on his shoulder. Harry stepped forward.

"Go on, Mr. Potter," Lucius drawled expectantly.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, Ron was technically responsible, but at the time, he was under the mental control of a magical diary that had been first been given to Ginny Weasley without her knowledge before it was passed on to Ron. The diary originally belonged to a former student named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Perhaps you recall me mentioning Riddle to you when we spoke last week after Draco was petrified."

"I ... recall the conversation," Lucius said. There was the slightest narrowing of his eyes, accompanied by an almost imperceptible tightening of his lips. Harry noticed, as did at least two others.

"As I suspected then, it turns out Tom Riddle was the original Heir of Slytherin responsible for the petrification attacks of 1943. He must of have written how he did it in his diary ... which later passed into the hands of You-Know-Who!"

Fudge gasped audibly at that, but Harry was more focused on the tiny movement of Lucius's Adam's apple and the way his hand tightened around the grip of his cane (which obviously housed a hold-out wand).

"You-Know-Who cursed the diary and converted it into a powerful dark object with the ability to influence and even possess anyone who wrote in it for too long. So while Ron played an unwilling role, Lord Malfoy, if you want to blame someone for your son's petrification, I suggest you look to the person who gave Ginny the diary in the first place. Luckily, I know when and where that happened, as well as who the real villain was!"

With that, Harry smiled at Malfoy. He tried not to appear smug, but it was a losing battle. For his part, Lucius's eyes narrowed even more, and his grip on his cane grew even tighter.

"You do?!" Jim exclaimed in surprise.

"Of course," Harry replied, glancing over at his brother and the Weasleys. "The diary was slipped into Ginny's cauldron last August when we were all getting our books at Flourish & Blotts." He turned back towards Lucius. "I'm sure you remember that afternoon, Lord Malfoy. That was the day you got into that altercation with Mr. Weasley here that turned into a fistfight."

"I remember the incident," Malfoy said coldly.

"As do I," Arthur Weasley added in an equally harsh voice.

"Well, that's all well and good, Mr. Potter," said Minister Fudge. "But who was the one responsible for giving this cursed book to Miss Weasley?"

Harry looked at the Minister in feigned surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that was obvious. It was Gilderoy Lockhart!" With that announcement, Harry actually had to clamp down hard on his own emotions to avoid snickering at the look of visible surprise, relief, and confusion that played across Malfoy's face for almost a full second before he regained control of himself. Nearby, Scrimgeour glanced sharply at Harry before turning back to study Lucius impassively, even as Dumbledore's eyes twinkled madly.

"It was Lockhart?" George Weasley asked, with just a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Obviously," said Harry. "I mean, he did confess to being responsible for the petrifications. If you recall, Mrs. Weasley, he made a big show of giving you a free set of all his books at the book-signing. The diary was relatively small, and it would have been no trouble to slip it in among all the other books. And since you'd mentioned that you had five children, he'd have guessed that at least one of them would find the diary and make use of it."

Molly was livid. "That ... fiend used me to pass a cursed objection on to my own children! Arthur! Take me to St. Mungo's this instant! I'll show him what 'long term spell damage' feels like!"

"Now, now, Mollywobbles," Arthur said gently.

"But ... what was the point of all this?" Fudge asked in confusion.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," Harry said respectfully, "since Jim managed to save Ron before the plan was completed, but since the diary caused Ron to petrify the whole staff, my guess is that it was a weapon that You-Know-Who created prior to getting destroyed by the Boy-Who-Lived. His original plan was probably to smuggle the diary into Hogwarts so that it could possess a student who would then petrify the Headmaster and the rest of the staff as prelude to an attack on the school or something like that. But then, You-Know-Who was destroyed, and the diary was left just sitting on a shelf somewhere until Lockhart or someone else foolishly activated it."

Malfoy sneered slightly at that, and Harry moved on swiftly.

"Lord Malfoy," he said as earnestly as possible for a Slytherin, "Ron was just a victim in this. A victim of You-Know-Who's cruel powers of mind control. Just as you were a victim of his Imperius Curse all those years ago and were forced to do things for which you yourself were nearly sent to Azkaban."

Behind Harry, Scrimgeour also fought the urge to smile as the boy continued.

"Honestly, it seems to me that House Malfoy and House Weasley have a mutual enemy here. If you'll forgive my bluntness, maybe this is a sign that your two houses should set aside their differences and end the Oath of Enmity that has kept your families in conflict for these last few centuries."

Lucius raised his chin haughtily. "My son wrote home to ask me about your discovery of the Enmity Oath between the House of Malfoy and the House of Weasley. I have reviewed our family history and confirmed his inquiry."

"I, er, already knew about the Enmity Oath," Arthur said quietly. "It's ... not something we tell our children about until they're grown, but all the adult Weasleys know about it."

The two men who had been enemies for their whole lives stared balefully at one another. Finally, Malfoy spoke.

"I suppose two centuries is long enough to hold a grudge over a petty marital dispute. However, the declaration of enmity was initially made by the House of Weasley. Is the Head of House Weasley willing to be the first to declare our feud at an end?"

Arthur stared in astonishment at Lucius. "I ... am indeed so willing," he stammered. After a few seconds, the two men walked stiffly towards one another and then, after a brief hesitation, shook hands. Immediately, everyone in the room felt a wave of ... something. The impression was as if somewhere far away a mighty glacier had finally cracked and begun to quickly melt. Arthur and Lucius both exhaled, but Malfoy spoke first.

"Do not think, however, Weasley, that this changes my views on the Muggle Protection Act. I still have legitimate concerns about the Act's breadth." Then, he hesitated for a moment. "That said, I am not averse to meeting with you later to see if some compromise is possible."

"I ... would be very appreciative," Arthur said weakly.

Lucius nodded and then turned back to Dumbledore. "How long until my son is revived, Dumbledore?"

"No more than a few hours, Lucius. I'll send word as soon as we're ready to give him the potion."

"Very well. With your permission, I shall escort the Minister to the nearest Floo. I suppose I should send word to my wife as well." He bowed to the group and then turned towards the doors. Fudge followed before stopping and turning back towards the aurors.

"Oh, Scrimgeour? Potter? I'd like to meet with you both tomorrow morning at nine o'clock in my office? I'm glad to see that things are resolved here, but I do have some questions I want answered." The two men nodded their assent, and Fudge quickly followed after Malfoy.

After a few seconds, Fred Weasley finally spoke first. "So does this mean we have to be nice to Draco Malfoy?" he asked.

"No," Harry said while exhaling loudly now that the tension had been broken. "It just means you don't have to hate him."

James moved closer to Harry and Dumbledore. "So what was all that about? Putting Harry in charge of explaining things to Malfoy?"

"It was because I knew he would do so admirably, James. One thing I've learned over the years is that sometimes it takes a Slytherin to handle a Slytherin." Then, Dumbledore moved closer and spoke softly so that none of the Weasley family could hear. "There was a very real possibility that Lucius could have pursued criminal sanctions against Ronald Weasley. Perhaps even Azkaban, depending on how the Wizengamot chose to treat a minor who committed crimes while claiming to be possessed. Your son not only diverted Lucius from pursuing such an option, he actually persuaded Lucius to abandon the Enmity Oath that has kept those two houses at odds for centuries."

James looked down at Harry with a curious expression that seemed to mix pride, confusion, and concern in equal measures. Harry thought about it for a few seconds and then he realized – James was reacting to Dumbledore saying "it takes a Slytherin to handle a Slytherin." The man had finally started coming round to Harry merely being in the House of the Snakes ... and now Dumbledore was suggesting that he was a Slytherin on par with Lucius Malfoy himself. Harry frowned but tried not to show any disappointment in his father's reaction.

"Yes, indeed," said Scrimgeour, "most impressive. However, since we're expected to report on everything that's happened tomorrow morning. I'd like to interview the boys more formally. Why don't you get a full written statement from Jim? I'll do the same with Harry. Albus, is your office free?"

And without another word to James Potter, the Chief Auror herded Harry out of the infirmary, with Dumbledore following close behind. Minutes later, they were ensconced in the Headmaster's office. Scrimgeour sat down in a chair, pointed his wand at a nearby table, and summoned a large bottle of fire whiskey and a single glass, presumably from his home or office. He poured himself a stiff glass, ignoring Dumbledore's disapproving expression as he did. After taking a sip and exhaling, he turned his attention to Harry.

"Right, now let me see if I have a clear understanding of the situation in case there are any holes I'll need you to fill in. Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater and a member of Voldemort's Inner Circle who escaped prosecution only because Sirius Black claimed at trial to have put him under the Imperius. At some point, Voldemort put a part of his soul into his old school diary to use as a spiritual anchor in the event of his death. He gave the diary to Malfoy who kept it hidden away for over ten years before picking a fight with Arthur Weasley that he used as cover for slipping the diary into the Weasley girl's school supplies. And you have just helped him to get away with it all with the connivance of Albus here ... and I suppose myself, since I didn't speak up either. Is that about the size of it?"

Harry gaped at the Chief Auror.

"Honestly, lad," Scrimgeour said. "Lucius Malfoy is at best a fourth level Occlumens and you have not yet mastered level three. The truth was practically written on both your faces for anyone with the wit to see it. By which I mean myself and Albus and no one else in the room."

Shocked at the Chief Auror's deductions, Harry turned to the Headmaster, who merely smiled at him with twinkling eyes. The boy turned back to Scrimgeour and shrugged.

"Could you have gotten a conviction under these facts? I mean, I suppose with pensieve reconstructions you could show Malfoy put the diary into Ginny's cauldron, but even then, the diary obviously had powerful mind-controlling properties, and Mr. Malfoy has already successfully used an Imperius defense once. At least this way, we got Ron out of trouble, we got the Malfoy-Weasley feud resolved which will be good for Ginny Weasley in Slytherin House, and with luck this might even move Malfoy into a more publically anti-Voldemort stance."

Scrimgeour put up his hand. "I wasn't condemning you, lad. Just making sure I hadn't missed anything. I do give you credit for spinning a mostly credible silk purse out of that particular sow's ear. Now, let's go over your statement again for my report to our illustrious Minister for Magic."

Harry spent about ten minutes answering questions from the two men, at the end of which Dumbledore asked if he could have a pensieve extract of Harry's experiences.

Harry swallowed. "If it's all the same, sir. I would prefer not to produce a memory of the entire experience. There were a few moments down there that, well, I'd rather not to see preserved in memory form."

Dumbledore looked at him expectantly. Harry took a deep breath.

"First ... before Jim showed up with the Sword of Gryffindor ... I thought I might have to ... to kill Ron in order to stop Voldemort from returning."

Dumbledore looked at him gravely. "I understand how that fear might have caused you to say things that you might now find embarrassing, Harry. I promise we won't hold it against you."

"Let me clarify that, sir. It wasn't anything I said." Harry sighed, suddenly tired from the long day's events. "Before Jim showed up ... I was going to kill Ron. I had my wand in his face and the word Incendio on my lips. I was going to burn him up. And I'd really rather not have any evidence lying around that shows how close I came."

The two men remained silent for several seconds. Finally, Scrimgeour spoke softly.

"It is a hard thing, I know, Mr. Potter to face the burden of doing what must be done, especially for someone as young as yourself. I am not surprised that you feel ambivalent about what almost happened. But I will encourage you to take comfort in the fact that on this occasion you were spared from having to do what was necessary for the Greater Good."

At those last words, Dumbledore made a sound that was not quite a grumble. Harry looked up at him, wondering if the Headmaster was disappointed in him, but his expression suggested he was more unhappy with Scrimgeour.

"I would not have put it quite like that, Harry," he said. "To be perfectly honest, I have long thought that "for the Greater Good" were the four most dangerous words in the English language, as there is almost no crime they cannot excuse when used by one who believes his cause is just. I will only say that I am relieved that Jim arrived in time, not just for Ronald's sake but for your own."

"My own, sir?" Harry asked.

"For one wizard to take the life of another causes fundamental changes in the soul, Mr. Potter," he said. "Even when doing so is necessary and unavoidable."

"That doesn't change the fact that sometime such killings are necessary for the public good," Scrimgeour interrupted. "During the last war, the Wizengamot gave special dispensation for aurors to use the Killing Curse, and I am not ashamed to say that I did so on occasion when my life or the lives of others depended on it. But I cannot deny that doing so affected me, and not just psychologically. Something happens to wizards who kill. It's part of the reason that spells which require the sacrifice of a human life to cast are so heavily proscribed by our government. The Horcrux Ritual, the spell that Voldemort used to place a soul fragment within his diary and which Albus here was too squeamish to name, is such a spell."

"Rufus!" Dumbledore snapped irritably. "We do not name forbidden spells from the Anathema Codex in the presence of twelve-year-old children!"

"Oh, of course not. Silly me." Scrimgeour's tone made it clear that he was not even the least bit chastened. "Forget I used the word horcrux, Mr. Potter. It'll only get you into trouble."

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "Anyway, Mr. Potter, I am pleased for all our sake that you were able to avoid resorting to lethal measures in dealing with Mr. Weasley, and I hope that circumstances will continue to favor you in avoiding such measures in the future. Now, was that the only issue you wished to avoid producing as a memory?"

Harry took a second, deeper breath. "No sir. The Basilisk is still alive."

Immediately, there was an uproar from both men, both of whom seemed inclined to head back to the Chamber of Secrets right that second. The boy put up his hands to regain their attention.

"Alive, but dormant," he said. "Salazar Slytherin somehow incorporated the essence of a phoenix into the Basilisk's creation process. When it dies, it's immediately reborn into an egg that's concealed inside the giant statue of Slytherin's head until it's needed again. I'm ... not sure if it's even possible to permanently kill it, but in any case, it's no longer a threat to the school and never will be again if we can get rid of Voldemort permanently. Or at the very least find where he's hiding the Diadem of Ravenclaw, which is what allows him complete control over the creature."

The two men finally calmed down. "The Diadem of Ravenclaw?" Dumbledore said. "That's been missing for nearly a thousand years. I believe there were rumors that it was being held in the possession of a minor wizarding family from Eastern Europe. Albania, I think..." At that, Dumbledore froze with his mouth still open. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" Scrimgeour asked.

"I just remembered. Quirinus Quirrell had been on a sabbatical to Albania to research vampires the summer before his turn as DADA instructor."

Rufus nodded. "So that's where You-Know-Who got to him. And by the way, I'm still angry at being kept out of the loop last year, Albus."

"Yes, I know. You can yell at me about it some more later. Harry, I assume that you do not wish this information to be recorded because you fear being blamed if knowledge of the Basilisk's survival got out?" Harry nodded. "Very well. Let us compromise. Go back to your dormitory and get some rest tonight. Tomorrow, I will allow you private access to my pensieve, and you can extract the relevant memories in smaller segments, excluding anything you feel reflects negatively on you. Is that satisfactory?"

Harry smiled. "Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

Minutes later, Harry had completed his interview with the two men and been dismissed from the Headmaster's office. After he was gone, Rufus took another sip of his fire whiskey.

"He's a remarkable young man, isn't he, Albus?"

"That he is, Rufus. That he is. As remarkable in his own way as the Boy-Who-Lived."

"And so frightfully intelligent as well."

Dumbledore hesitated. "I don't know that I'd say frightfully intelligent. Though his intellect is prodigious for a child of his years. Even more so than I'd realized at first."

"He's also hiding something. Some secrets that would be revealed by his memories of the Chamber of Secrets other than the two that he willingly revealed."

"I agree, but I think he's earned a measure of trust, and so I'm not inclined to press the matter for the time being."

"Mmm," Scrimgeour nodded and then took another sip of whiskey. "So tell me this at least – do you think the boy has any idea that he's a natural Legilimens?"

Dumbledore coughed delicately. "I very much doubt it. I'll speak to Severus about it once he's revived and had a chance to recover."

Scrimgeour nodded again but said nothing more.

Once outside the entrance to the Headmaster's office, Harry exhaled loudly in relief at having gotten out of providing a pensieve memory in front of the two men. While the two secrets he'd revealed were somewhat embarrassing, they were nothing compared to his conversation with Tom Riddle in which they'd discussed him being a Parselmouth and a claimant for the title of Prince of Slytherin. Once Blaise and Theo were revived, he'd get with them in the Lair and review his memories in his own pensieve first. Together, they'd figure out the best way to edit the memories so that none of Harry's important secrets were revealed.

Harry checked his watch. Amazingly in light of how much had happened today, it was only just past 9:00. He assumed that the Ewer would first be used to revive teachers, then prefects, and finally students, so it would likely be several more hours before his friends were revived. He considered his options for several minutes, and then decided to live dangerously. He darted down the corridor and into an empty classroom. The boy was still carrying Ron's book-bag over his shoulder, and from it he removed the blank parchment which he assumed was the Twins' mysterious map. Opening it up, he looked around to make sure he was alone and then whispered "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

His eyes widened as the blank parchment filled itself with a detailed map of the entire school, complete with tiny dots moving about and labeled with the names of the students. He also noted that the map included the Slytherin dungeon but not the Prince's Lair, nor did it indicate the presence of the Chamber of Secrets. However, after few seconds of searching, he did notice one interesting name loitering in the Trophy Room.

"Hmm. I've talked to him twice so far and survived the experience. Dare I go three-for-three?" Harry smiled. Then, he looked back down at the map.

"Okay, I know the password to activate this thing," he muttered to himself, "but how do I turn you off?" Then, to Harry's further surprise, part of the map faded away to be replaced by writing.

Mr. Padfoot is curious as to how someone might know one password but not the other.
Has our dear friend Snivellus finally developed more than one working brain cell?

"Snivellus," Harry said softly. "You mean Professor Snape?"

Mr. Prongs expresses shock and dismay at the incredible decline in the quality
of education offered at Hogwarts if someone like Snivellus is now on the faculty.
His hair alone should be disqualifying!

Harry thought quickly. He knew all too well that "Snivellus" was James Potter's offensive nickname for Snape. He knew also that James had three close friends – Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black – who collectively had called themselves the Marauders. Had they made this map originally? And how in Merlin's name did it fall into the hands of the Weasley Twins years after the four had graduated? Harry smiled speculatively.

"Well, I wouldn't know about that. I'm just a lowly Second Year. My name's Harry Potter."

Mr. Prongs wishes to inquire as to whether you're related to James Potter,
a dashing roguish lad-about-town.

"He's ... he's my dad." Harry felt slightly queasy about using "the D-word" under these circumstances, but he resolved to get over it.

Mr. Moony expresses astonishment that Mr. Prongs would ever experience
the touch of a woman, let alone sire a child with one.

"Well, he did!" Harry replied. "My mother is Lily Evans Potter."

The map did not respond at first.

I married Lily? I thought ...

Mr. Wormtail wishes to remind Mr. Prongs to stay in character.

Sigh. Mr. Wormtail is correct. Mr. Prongs apologizes for his lapse.
Moving on, what House does Mr. Son-of-Prongs belong to?

Harry hesitated. "Guess," he said.

Mr. Prongs would be delighted to see his son in any house save that of the slimy serpents,
but would be particularly pleased to see him in Gryffindor like his forebears.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'm afraid I gave the old man a bit of a heart attack when I owled him after my Sorting and told him I was in Slytherin. He actually sent me a Howler the next morning."

Mr. Padfoot would describe that as awful if it weren't so bloody hilarious,
and he wishes that Mr. Prongs had thought to play such a prank
on his own parents back in 1971.

Mr. Prongs would never have done such a thing,
as he had no wish to get his backside tanned by two angry parents.

"So it would have really been that bad? For a Potter to ever be Sorted into Slytherin?" Harry said quietly.

Mr. Prongs remembers his Mum and Dad describing a
Slytherin Sorting as "a disaster beyond imagining."

Harry was silent for several seconds. "Listen," he finally said, "I really have to get back to the dorm before curfew. I'd like to talk some more later, but I don't want ... Snivellus to catch me with this and confiscate it. Would you mind telling me the password to close it? I only got this by accident. Dad said he lost it not long before graduation."

Mr. Padfoot thinks it unconscionable to deprive Son-of-Prongs of any
part of his pranking heritage. To turn the Marauders' Map back
into ordinary parchment, simply say "Mischief Managed."

"Thank you, Mr. Padfoot. I think that makes you my favorite."

Messrs. Prongs, Moony and Wormtail collectively say "Boooo!"

Mr. Padfoot sticks his tongue out at his fellow Marauders and reminds Mr. Prongs
that if he holds to his word, Mr. Padfoot will someday be godfather to Son-of-Prongs,
and so he has the right to be indulgent.

Harry sighed. "Mischief managed." As anticipated, the map returned to its blank state. Harry folded it and put it away while contemplating how easy it was to lie to a piece of paper. Then, he left for the Trophy Room.

Five minutes later ...

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry said respectfully. The other man turned to regard him with an imperious glare.

"Yes, Mr. Potter? Is there news of my son?"

"Not to my knowledge, sir. But I thought instead of simply waiting here by yourself, you might prefer to visit the Slytherin dormitory and wait in greater comfort."

"The offer is appreciated, Mr. Potter, but I have little interest in hobnobbing with students and even less in reliving old memories perhaps best forgotten."

Harry nodded. "I understand, sir. But still, I thought it might interest you to visit your old stomping grounds as it were. To see how things have changed since then. And how they've stayed the same. For instance," he paused significantly, "I've been using your old chair."

Lucius Malfoy's left eyebrow rose fractionally. "Ah. I see. Very well, I suppose it would do me good to revisit my student days, just this once. Lead on, Mr. Potter."

The two walked in silence. Malfoy obviously had no interest in small talk, and Harry wasn't sure how to engage him in it anyway. Moments later, they entered the dormitory, where they were immediately accosted by Cassius Warrington.

"Potter, you little brat, where the hell have you been?! What's been going ... on...?" He stopped suddenly as he recognized the man entering the Common Room behind Potter.

"Lord Malfoy, this is Cassius Warrignton, a Fourth Year student. Warrington, I'm sure you recognize Draco's father."

"Of ... of course! It's a pleasure to meet you, sir! I'm the eldest son of Antonius Warrington."

"Are you really?" Malfoy said languidly. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of ever meeting the man face-to-face, though, of course, his reputation precedes him." Malfoy's polite smile belied the obvious disdain he held for the Warrington name. "Now if you'll excuse us, young Harry here and I were going to have a private chat."

Warrington swallowed. "H-Harry?" he stammered, amazed that the Lord of House Malfoy called Harry Potter by his first name.

"Yes, Warrington," Harry said, twisting the knife, "that is my name." Harry and Lucius glided past Warrington and into Prefect's Row. After they left, Warrington looked around wildly.

"BONNEVIE!"he cried out calling for the Sixth Year prefect.

"I take it you're not a fan of the Warringtons, sir?"

"No," Lucius said without elaboration. Then, in a swift movement, he pulled a wand from his cane. "DUROS."

Suddenly, there was a fairly thick wall that blocked off the entrance to Prefect's Row. Harry swallowed and led the way down the corridor. Once they were at the entrance to the Lair, Harry paused and looked up expectantly towards Malfoy who simply returned his gaze. Finally giving up, Harry turned back at the fake wall, coughed lightly into his hand, and then quietly spoke the password.

"Moldyshorts."

He glanced back up at Malfoy, who was staring at him with an unreadable but intense expression. Harry blushed and then stepped into the Prince's Lair ...

... before stopping short in astonishment. On the far side of the table, the nine heads of the Hydra Throne were active again and even chatting animatedly, almost happily. And sitting on the Throne, as if born to it was Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Ah, Lucius! Harry! So good you could make it! Come and sit down. We have much to discuss."

As the man flashed his award-winning smile at them, Harry's brain seemed to shut down entirely at the sight of Lockhart, not only in possession of his faculties, but here in the Prince's Lair where no non-Slytherin had ever set foot, and sitting in the chair that would kill anyone who hadn't earned the right to be there.

"Once again, you surprise me, Professor Lockhart," said Lucius Malfoy in a tone of affected boredom that perfectly concealed his own confusion. "I was given to understand that you were a Ravenclaw. And also a vegetable."

Harry's attention was drawn away from Lockhart and towards the placards on the wall identifying the past Princes. Then, for the second time this evening, he had the eerie experience of a kaleidoscope shifting into clarity. Once again, he understood.

"And you would be right on both counts," he said shakily as he looked back up at Malfoy. "Gilderoy Lockhart was a Ravenclaw. And he is, as you put it, a vegetable." Then, he turned towards the figure sitting on the Hydra Throne.

"Isn't that right ... Mr. Black?"

The DADA professor smirked and then shook his head violently in a manner very similar to how Nymphadora Tonks would reset her own appearance back to its default. Lockhart's auburn hair darkened to jet black, and a neatly trimmed black goatee sprouted around his mouth. His adorable button nose sharpened into a noble Aquiline shape. And his dreamy hazel eyes turned to a cold gray. Then, he flashed the boy a charming smile, if one not remotely winning enough to impress Witch Weekly.

"Please, Harry, we're all friends here. Call me Regulus."

The next chapter will be posted sometime between May 18 and May 20, 2016. That's a slight delay as I have significant work commitments this week that may delay me on the next chapter. "Meet Regulus Black," in which hopefully every single question that people have about the DADA professor is answered.

AN 1: A few people guessed Regulus Black, but most people who posted their thoughts seemed to think Lockhart was either an OC Unspeakable, the missing Australian auror who was somehow possessing Lockhart, or just the regular Lockhart possessed by someone else. A few thought it might be Remus (even though I've said repeatedly that he would not show up until Year 3) or even Sirius (can't even imagine how I'd have plausibly pulled that off). A few of the clues I left include ...

Ch 24: Harry notes that Lucius's name is the second-to-last among the Princes, which means that there was a Prince between 1972 and 1991. Regulus is, IIRC, the only named Slytherin from that era who could plausibly have fit.

CH 51: Lockhart's old CoMC book survived the effects of Pandora Lovegood's use of Imago Dei due to "experimental wards" on his Gringotts vault. The Blacks are notorious for their extreme paranoia, as well as the unusual protections they place on their Gringotts' vaults.

CH 53 & 63: Lockhart expresses sadness at the thought of sibling rivalry driving apart the Weasley Twins and later the Potter Twins. He actively tried to get the Potter Twins to cooperate by giving them both reason to dislike him.

CH 67: Augusta Lockhart has a lengthy conversation about the Conscription Act in which she strongly implies that there are other Blacks besides Tonks who have the Metamorphmagus gift but who successfully conceal it to avoid conscription.

CH 70: Lockhart comments that his mother would have had "a conniption" if she'd learned that he'd destroyed the family pensieve. Walburga Black was indeed known for her fits of uncontrollable rage.

CH 73: There are many hints that Lockhart is from Australia that all lead up to the suggestion that he is actually the missing Australian auror Lazarus White. However, that's a fake name. Lazarus is the man who came back from the dead, and White is the opposite of Black. How Regulus ended up with that name and working as an Australian auror will be answered next chapter.

CH 75: Lockhart all but announces the fact that he's a former Prince of Slytherin.

AN 2: The nearly universal trope about Dumbledore is that he's a ruthless bastard because of his belief that anything goes so long as its For The Greater Good. So while my Dumbledore is capable of making hard decisions, he hates utilitarianism (which he associates with Grindelwald) and is more into Kantianism, although my own grasp of philosophy needs some work before I can have Dumbledore talk coherently about the relative merits of Kant and, say, Jeremy Bentham.

AN 3: I hope the people heartbroken over the death of the Basilisk are placated. The Basilisk will probably return at some point, but it will be a lot ... smaller.

AN 4: Harry's conversation with the Map was a very late addition to this chapter. I realized at the last second that he would have no opportunity to give it to the Twins with their parents around, and if he needed to find Lucius, why wouldn't he use the Map? And then, the Marauders just started talking and talking and I was suddenly struck by the parallels between the Marauders talking through the Map and Tom talking through the Diary. I haven't decided whether anything will come of that yet.

UPDATE FOR YEAR THREE: Right, so here's the plan going forward. I'm estimating two more chapters spent in the Prince's Lair with Harry, Lucius and Reg, followed by two chapters to wrap up the year and set up for Year 3. After that, I'm gonna take a break for a while. I've basically been cranking out 6-10k words every week since January. And I just can't do that with Year 3 because it's such a different animal and needs more advanced planning. The Secret Enemy at least followed the general time line of Chamber of Secrets and had most of the same beats. Book 3 (HP and the Death Eater Menace) will differ radically from Prisoner of Azkaban, so I need more time to story arc it out and get started.

With that in mind, here is my plan. The official start of Harry Potter and the Death Eater Menace is scheduled for September 1, 2016. However, if I complete at least 10 chapters, before then, I will consider starting up early. On the bright side, however, this story won't be completely silent until then. Instead of devoting twelve chapters to the summer break, I will post "Interludes" about every three weeks or so which will detail what is happening over the summer with different characters that will pay off in Year 3. There will definitely be one for Jim & Ron, one for Theo, and tentatively one for Blaise and Hermione, with some others if time permits. Hopefully, this will keep people interested while I'm working out the next book.