Chapter 18: Good News and Bad News

Harry and Ginny rose to the top of the pipe, clutching tight to Fawkes' tail-feathers. The sinks parted once more with a creak, and they grinned at each other, reacting to the warm, cheery light of the castle. At the sound of the sinks, Myrtle's head appeared through a toilet door, and a downcast expression appeared on her face. Harry looked at her.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You're still alive. It gets so lonely around here; if you'd died you could have kept me company."

Harry blinked, stunned by this prospect, while Ginny shook with repressed laughter.

"Well, that's very… generous of you Myrtle. Thank you. I do have a question for you though. Did you see the sinks open before I went down there?"

"Oh yes, you hissed at them. Do people know that you're a Parselmouth?" Myrtle said, nodding furiously.

"No, they don't. That's why I'm asking; do you think you could keep it a secret for me?"

"Will you come and talk to me? You're the only one who's ever shown an interest in me you know."

Harry blinked once more.

"I – I suppose so, yes."

Myrtle beamed.

"Oh good! It'll be our little secret then Harry! See you soon!"

And with that, she disappeared once more, and there was the sound of water splashing. Harry had a disturbing idea that she was actually haunting a particular toilet, not just the bathroom. He shivered at the idea.

The two friends walked out of the bathroom, Ginny still sniggering at Myrtle's proposition, and they followed Fawkes, who had flown on ahead, guiding their way with a soft glow from his feathers. They eventually arrived at the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, and Harry paused, looking at Ginny.

"What's wrong Harry?"

"Can you not tell anyone that I'm a Parselmouth? I don't want it getting out."

Ginny shrugged.

"I think Hermione probably knows, if she worked out about the basilisk. There was that voice you heard from time to time. Only a Parselmouth could have understood it. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Harry smiled at her in gratitude, before looking at the gargoyle. He realised he didn't know the password, but Fawkes trilled at it before he could speak, and it moved aside. They climbed the spiral stairs to Dumbledore's office, and Harry knocked heavily.

The door opened smoothly, revealing the Weasley's, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Umbridge. Silence fell across the office at the sight of Harry and Ginny, covered in mud and blood, and in Harry's case, carrying a blood-stained sword. Then, all of a sudden, Umbridge started to babble, and Mr and Mrs Weasley flung themselves forward, sweeping Ginny into a huge hug. Harry grinned at Ron, who was staring, flabbergasted, at his friend, before walking to the desk, placing the sword and the diary down. Dumbledore was watching Fawkes, smiling fondly at the phoenix, but as the sword clinked against the wood, he turned to Harry, and the smile turned proud. Harry smiled back, but before he could speak, Mrs Weasley embraced him tightly, repeatedly stammering her thanks into his ear. Over her shoulder, Harry could see Mr Weasley, still holding Ginny tightly.

"Harry, I – thank you Harry, I don't – I don't know what to say to you. You saved her, you saved our Ginny! How in the name of Merlin and Morgana did you manage it?" he said, looking down at his daughter.

"I have to say Mr Potter, I am quite interested in that as well." Umbridge commented in sour tones.

So Harry told them; about Tom Riddle, about Hagrid mentioning Myrtle, about Hermione's theory of a basilisk and reflective surfaces, about working out that two attacks in the same place couldn't have been a coincidence, about going to the bathroom with Lockhart. At this point Umbridge broke in, her professional face falling away with evident interest.

"And err, where is Professor Lockhart now? I'm sure he played a significant role, we should acknowledge it."

Harry smiled grimly.

"Well, you know everyone wanted to know where the diary ended up?"

Umbridge blinked in confusion, before her mouth dropped in comprehension. There were similar gasps from around the room as the penny dropped.

"But – but all the staff were screened for any external influences on their minds! How could it have escaped our notice?"

This time, Harry's smile was much more genuine, and rather vindictive.

"Because Lockhart was skilled with mental magic. He didn't actually do any of the things he said he'd done, just Memory charmed those who did and took the credit."

Umbridge and Mrs Weasley made remarkably similar noises of disbelief at this point, and Harry caught Ron's eye with a grin.

"All very interesting Harry, but you still haven't explained what happened in the Chamber itself." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

So Harry continued, explaining Riddle's speech, the basilisk, the arrival of Fawkes, and the destruction of the diary. Some of the details were different however. Unable to think of a way to tell the whole truth without revealing himself as a Parselmouth, which he was unwilling to do in front of Umbridge, Harry said nothing of the snakes. Instead, he told them that Fawkes had pecked out both eyes, and that after that it had been a 'simple' matter of hacking at the basilisk until it died. He also said nothing of Riddle's brief journey into his mind. He suspected he wasn't aware of all the details himself, and his mind was private.

Silence fell once he had finished speaking. Mrs Weasley was actually crying in gratitude, while Ron was staring at his friend in awe. Dumbledore picked up the diary, flicking through it with interest.

"Fascinating… most fascinating. Of course, Riddle was a brilliant wizard, brilliant indeed. He would have been of great benefit to society if he had not fallen. But to weave an enchantment so complex, and with such skill and power that it persists after his destruction… He was perhaps an even better wizard than I had believed."

"Careful Dumbledore. That comes dangerously close to Dark sympathising." said Umbridge.

Dumbledore turned to her, his eyes blazing. When he spoke though, it was in calm, almost amused tones.

"My dear Madame Umbridge, I would be concentrating more on your own failings if I were you. You have, after all, been rather outshone by a twelve-year old. How will the Ministry react to that I wonder?"

Umbridge stiffened, before standing up haughtily.

"We shall require the diary as evidence Dumbledore."

"Of course. I shall send it along as soon as I've finished my own examination."

"I will take it now."

"Oh, surely you'll indulge an old man's whim Madame?"

Despite the jovial tone, it was clear that Umbridge would not be getting her hands on the diary for a few days. She narrowed her eyes, but nodded stiffly, and turned on her heel. She paused to look at Harry.

"Good work Potter. We might make a decent Auror of you. May you be guided by the light –"

"If it's your vision of the light then I'll pass thank you Madame."

A deathly hush fell across the room. Umbridge clenched her fist, as if she longed to curse Harry for his blasphemy, but she did nothing. Harry watched her go, hoping he never saw her again. The door closed, and Dumbledore spoke again.

"Molly, Arthur, why don't you take Ginny down to the Hospital Wing, get her checked over. Madame Pomfrey should be just about finished administering the Mandrake potion now, so she should be free. Minerva, I think this merits a feast, don't you? Would you kindly alert the kitchens and the students?"

McGonagall ushered the Weasley children and Harry out of the door, but Dumbledore spoke again.

"Harry, if I might have a quick word with you?"

The Weasleys looked at him, and Harry stopped in his tracks, walking back to a chair. The door clicked shut behind him, while he gazed, uncertain, at Dumbledore. The old wizard smiled at him.

"First of all, I wanted to thank you Harry. Only a tremendous show of loyalty to me could have convinced Fawkes to come to you."

Harry blushed, but held Dumbledore's gaze.

"He was saying that he was the most powerful wizard in the world, and I told him that – well, that he wasn't. That you weren't as gone as he thought." he muttered, and then blushed some more.

"Harry?"

"And…that you would kick his arse."

The office rang with Dumbledore's laughter, and Harry grinned awkwardly at the sight of his Headmaster's beard quivering. Dumbledore eventually quieted, and smiled at Harry fondly.

"Ah Harry, I suspect he was very unhappy to hear that!"

Harry nodded in agreement.

"That was when he set the basilisk on me."

Dumbledore's smile fell away.

"Yes. The basilisk. Harry, I am most dreadfully sorry that you had to face it on your own. If I had only known…"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, slightly embarrassed. Seeking to change the subject, he asked his own question.

"How come you're back anyway? I thought you'd been suspended."

"Ah, well, Madame Umbridge is not without influence, but when the Board realised precisely how bad things were, they couldn't get me back quickly enough. I regret not being here when I was needed, but my trip was not a complete waste of time, I am happy to say."

Harry looked curiously at him, but Dumbledore did not seem eager to enlighten him.

"Now Harry, this sword of yours; do you know where it came from?"

Harry looked at the sword again. He hadn't really paid attention to it down in the Chamber, but now he could examine it. The blade was about three feet long, and about as wide as his arm, with a square guard that curved down over the hilt, strange markings carved into it. The hilt itself was beautiful, carved from what Harry thought might be a unicorn horn. The pommel consisted of a dragon's head, mouth open. Apart from the hilt, the sword was made entirely of some kind of metal, which glowed strangely in the flickering light of the fire. His examination complete, he shook his head.

"No? How curious. I do not recognise it either, and I have to say, if Fawkes was going to bring a weapon to a Hogwarts student, I would have thought it would be the sword of Gryffindor, but as you can see, that is still in its case" Dumbledore said, gesturing at the glass case in the corner.

Harry looked puzzled.

"You mean that you don't recognise it either?"

"I do not Harry. Is there anything else special about it, other than the way it appeared?"

"Well… when it arrived, it didn't look like that, it was more like a broadsword. And it was lighter. And – and I think that it can move. I mean, I can fence pretty well, but I was blocking spells earlier, and I'm not that good, and not that fast. It seemed to know what it was doing better than I did."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"A sentient, shape-shifting sword. A wondrous tool indeed Harry."

"And you don't know who it might belong to?"

"Well, given that it came to you when you called for help, I suppose we must say, in the absence of any other proof of ownership, that it is yours. Since it is yours, I wonder if you might permit me to carry out a few tests on it?"

Harry shrugged, and nodded. It wasn't as if he had much use for a real sword, unless Little Whinging had suddenly become populated by dangerous serpents.

"Thank you Harry. I do have another question for you: How did you exit the Chamber?"

Harry sat in silence for a moment, thinking hard, before slumping in defeat.

"Because I'm a Parselmouth sir."

Dumbledore nodded gently, but said nothing. Harry looked at him anxiously.

"You – you don't mind do you sir?"

"Why on earth should I mind Harry? It is only a language after all. I myself speak nearly a hundred, although not Parselmouth I am sorry to say."

Harry grinned.

"Don't be. Most of the snakes I've spoken to aren't that polite."

Dumbledore's beard quivered again.

"So, is there anything else you left out of your narrative?"

Harry hesitated, before telling Dumbledore everything, about summoning the snakes and about Riddle's brief trip into his mind, about the nothingness inside him, about being pushed into his magic and then waking up. Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.

"The 'nothingness' as you call it is the barrier of dark magic that is preventing you gaining full access to your magic Harry; I've seen it when performing Legilimency on you. It will decay soon enough, do not worry about it. As for any lingering fragments of Tom Riddle in you, I wouldn't worry about that, not with the diary destroyed."

Harry nodded in relief. Seeing that Dumbledore had nothing further to say, he got up to go to the feast. He paused at the door for a moment.

"Sir? Riddle said he knew that he – that Voldemort – was out there somewhere. Do you think he'll ever come back properly?"

"It would not surprise me if he made the attempt at some point. But we will be ready. All we can do is be vigilant Harry. Watch and wait."

Harry nodded, and opened the door. Then another question occurred to him, that he had been wondering about for awhile.

"Sir? What does 'Mighty One' mean?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Some of the snakes I've spoken to, and the Sorting Hat; they've called me 'Mighty One'. I just wondered if it meant anything particular."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered, and he stared at Harry intently.

"It is most likely just an honorific Harry; you are a powerful wizard, soon to be very powerful. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Harry nodded, and finally left the office. Dumbledore put down his quill, and stared at the closed door.

"Great Merlin…"

The feast was predictably brilliant. Hogwarts feasts always were, and given the reason behind it this was even more exuberant. The best part came an hour in, when Hermione and Neville dashed in, throwing themselves at Harry in delight that he had solved everything. The rest of the term passed in a similar blur of excitement and pleasure; Justin apologised to him profusely, exams were cancelled (as was DADA), and the traditional Hogwarts good humour was restored.

All too soon however, they were boarding the train to go home. The journey passed pleasantly; the twins had discovered that Percy had a girlfriend, and were reacting with their trademark tact and kindness. As they approached Kings Cross, Hermione turned to Harry.

"So, what do you think is going to happen next year?"

"Shut up! You asked that last year, and there was a bloody basilisk roaming the school! Don't jinx next year as well!"

Epilogue: 3 hours after the events in the Chamber of Secrets, a long way from Hogwarts

The pendant had stopped glowing. It had the appearance of a large ruby, covered in white cracks, hanging from a golden chain. Several hours ago, it had begun to blaze with light, setting off long silent wards that had dragged the people now standing around it from their work. They couldn't work out what was more unsettling; that it had glowed at all, that it was no longer glowing, or that they couldn't work out what had happened to the sword that had lain beside the stone for nearly five hundred years. An early arrival at the scene had seen the sword suddenly just disappear into thin air. This was disturbing. The people who worked with and around the stone were not used to puzzles that couldn't be solved.

There was a heated argument going on between several of the people surrounding the stone, all of whom were dressed in non-descript black robes. They all had tattoos on the backs of their hands, of a large eye. One of the figures threw up his hands in submission, before walking away. He walked down a long corridor, with several large black doors leading off it. Climbing onto a platform suspended in mid-air, he flicked his wand, and the platform rose into the air. Five minutes later, he stepped off, walking down a rather more respectable looking corridor. There was an oak door at the end, and after checking his appearance, he knocked.

"Enter."

The man walked through the door with some trepidation. The man he was going to see was not known for his relaxed attitude. He sat down in front of his superior's desk. There was a plaque on it, reading Silas Tulliver.

"Well? What do we know?" demanded Tulliver.

"Err… The Eye is no longer glowing. Whatever – wherever – the outburst was, it's finished now."

"Good. And the sword?"

"Still no trace of it sir, but out detectors are still running."

Tulliver – a bulky, powerful looking man, with a pale scar running down his face – sat deep in thought. The man from the stone sat still, not daring to move. Then Tulliver nodded.

"If the sword has been called, then there will most likely be another outburst soon. I want people watching the Eye at all times, ready to react."

"Yes sir."

The man stood up to leave, and Tulliver turned his attention back to some official looking documents. The man coughed, and Tulliver looked up.

"What?"

"Sir, what – what if there is another of them around?"

"Then we'll do what we've been doing for the last two thousand years Faulkner. Watch. Evaluate. Solve the problem, however we have to."

"Sir…"

"It's been five hundred years since they've walked the earth Faulkner. I'll be damned if I'm going to let one appear and run wild while I'm in charge. We'll find them, we'll watch them, and if necessary we'll kill them."

The End of Book Two

A/N: Is that a bad note to end on? I do hope not… So ends The Sneaking Serpent Walks, book two of the 'Second War' series. I hope you've enjoyed it, and thanks for sticking with it and providing feedback. There's going to be a (hopefully short) wait for book 3 (An Awful Power) to begin posting; I want to get more of it written before I start posting, in the hopes that I can keep the weekly schedule I've managed with this one. Fingers crossed.

Thanks again, and remember; reviews are always greatly appreciated.

Shinysavage.