Chapter 3: Harry's not-so-relaxing Saturday

(Author's note: I have added an original character: Lord Alfard Black, who is an ancestor of Sirius. Who he was is likely not important, but if it is, background details will be provided. Also, "blah, blah, blah" denotes parseltoungue.)

Far away, completely unaware that his life was about to be turned upside down, Harry Potter woke up looking forward to a relaxing Saturday. Ron was still asleep, as were most of his dorm mates, so Harry dressed quietly and went downstairs to the common room, then out into the rest of the castle. It was raining and rather chill both inside and out, so Harry avoided the corridors with lots of windows. He drifted downstairs, and found himself moving quietly along the halls just above the dungeons. Without noticing it, he passed the turn-off to the stairs usually used to go to Potions, and soon found himself deep in Slytherin territory. The first indication he go was a voice, which said quietly,

"What brings you here?"

"Harry turned calmly around and faced the portrait. It was of a man he guessed might have been a Black.

"I'm taking a walk. It's warmer down here."

"Where exactly are you going, Griffindork?" the man demanded arrogantly and suspiciously. His tone evoked a flare of anger in Harry.

"I thought I would take a quick jaunt down to the Chamber of Secrets, and maybe do a bit of cleaning up before breakfast." he responded cooly. The portrait blinked twice, and uncertain expression on his face.

"I could come to like this lad." murmured a voice behind Harry, who half turned and answered politely:

"Thank-you, sir."

The portrait who had been interrogating Harry, who had begun spluttering, fell silent at Harry's words and stared at the young man.

"You understood that?" he asked after a moment in a more polite voice.

"Yes," said Harry, somewhat unsure as to why this was such a big deal. "Why shouldn't't I?"

"I was speaking parseltongue, boy. Didn't you notice?"

"No, I didn't. I often don't."

"Well, you certainly showed old Lord Black there. Are you really going down to the Chamber?"

"I wasn't actually planning on it. I mean, it's yours, and I should at least ask you before just wandering down there."

Slytherin's eyes sparkled with amusement and fun.

"Oh, I like you so much better than the last chap who…By the way, do you know that there's a boy behind you?"

"No, thanks." Harry turned and found Draco Malfoy staring at him. For a moment or two, there was silence in the hall as the two young men stared at each other. Harry decided to make the first move. Although he figured it was rather late to begin building bridges or mending fences, he reckoned he might as well try.

"Sorry if I'm trespassing on Slytherin territory. I was looking for someplace warmer than upstairs," he said quietly and politely. Malfoy looked surprised at the courtesy, for he had been expecting sneers, and a belligerent defence of Potter's right to be there. His smart-arse answers were now not so smart, so all he could say was:

"I guess if Salazar Slytherin says you're okay, who am I to disagree."

Harry shrugged. There were a few more moments of silence, the Malfoy spoke again.

"I suppose it's none of my business, but were you just wandering around down here, or were you going someplace in particular?"

"Go on! Tell him what you told Black!" interrupted Slytherin.

"No! Why should I? He's being polite." Harry responded without thinking.

"Excuse me?" demanded Draco. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Nothing. He just wanted me to shock you."

"I'm not that easy to shock. Try me," challenged the fair-haired boy with more of his usual arrogance.

"If you take him down with you, I bet it would go a long way toward mending things between you two." Slytherin pointed out.

"Alright!" sighed Harry. "I was sort of heading for the Chamber of Secrets, since Salazar says it's okay with him. Wanna come?"

Draco blinked in surprise, but he recovered quickly.

"Sure. Let's go before we're missed."

Salazar chuckled and his portrait swung forward.

"Quickest way is down this pipe. I suggest you ask the snake on the wall opposite my statue to let you into my workroom, where you will find maps of the pipes. Have a good time!"

"Thanks!" said Harry cheerfully as he and Draco entered the huge, tunnel-like pipe. As the portrait swung back, they lit their wands and started exploring, always choosing the most downward sloping path. Harry noted that there were some doors, neatly and clearly labeled in what must have been parselhand, since Draco could not read them. They reckoned to spend about two or three hours down there, since likely no one would miss them in that time, but since neither of them had a watch they soon lost track of time…

Lunchtime of the same day:

Ron and Hermione did not get worried about Harry until lunchtime. It had become routine for Harry to get up earlier than them, do his own thing until lunch, then join them. That day, however, they got to the great hall and no Harry joined them.

So after they had eaten, they went to see if they could find him. They started in the dungeons, since Snape had left the Hall with Dumbledore and Slughorn was busy elsewhere – and they wanted to meet neither of them.

"I mean, it would be just like the git to forbid us to look for Harry, and Slughorn would prob'ly get into a flap if his Potions Prodigy was missing," grumbled Ron, and Hermione agreed. The person they did meet was Remus Lupin.

"Hullo, you two," he greeted them.

"Hi!"

"I don't suppose you've seen Professors Snape or Slughorn lately?" Moony inquired casually.

"Yeah, Professor Snape's with the headmaster, and Professor Slughorn's in the Staff Room," Hermione informed him.

"Good." Lupin's tone betrayed a hint of smugness. Ron looked questioningly at him.

"I'd love to tell you why that's good," said the werewolf, catching the look, "but I can't really stop and chat now. Where's Harry, by the way?"

"Actually we were wondering if you had seen him." Hermione answered.

"No. If I do, I will tell him you two are looking for him. I'm afraid I really have to go now."

"See you later, then. Thanks."

Ron and Hermione turned left, and Lupin turned right. He soon reached his destination: Horace Slughorn's office and stores. It did not take him long to take what he needed. He was shaking his head as he left.

"That was pathetic," he muttered to himself. "A first year could have stolen from him. I wish I could speak to him about it. Ah, well, at least it was quick. Now, let's see if Lily was right that Severus still keeps a few odd things in hi bathroom cabinet." With a quiet laugh, he slunk up to the Defence teacher's quarters.

In fact, his Marauder instincts were returning. In order to buy himself some time free of suspicion, he took more ingredients from Snape than he actually needed, then deposited the excess in Slughorn's stores. He had to snigger as he imagined the reactions of his colleagues.

However, he sobered when he reached his own rooms. He got out his journal. The recipe he had to follow would tax his limited abilities with potions to the limit. Well, he would take it one step at a time. He understood the theory, he just was not sure he could do it. He locked his door, and got started.

Around this time, Severus Snape left Dumbledore's office and nearly tripped over Ron and Hermione, patiently waiting to speak to the headmaster. The only reason he did not actually trip over Ron's long legs – which were stretched across the floor – was that he paused, turned, and called back,

"By the way, Albus, have you seen Draco Malfoy this morning? I missed him at lunch."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. If Harry's and Malfoy's disappearances were linked, it probably meant trouble.

Albus replied that no, he had not seen Draco, but unsurprisingly since he'd had a busy morning, etc., etc. Snape nodded, satisfied, sneered at the two students in passing, and swept off down the hall. The two students in question knocked on the door, were admitted, and were offered lemon drops.

"Thanks, Sir."

"Now, what can I do for you, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger?"

"Well, we came to tell you that Harry's been missing all morning, and we heard while we were waiting that Malfoy's missing too, and if there's a connection…"

"I see." Dumbledore thought a moment. "I see no cause for concern yet. Thank-you for telling me. If you see him or Mr. Malfoy, please tell, but I will keep an eye on the situation."

"Okay. Thanks." The two best friends of The Boy Who Lived left, satisfied.

In a completely other part of the castle, Professor Snape approached his office and found two boys he did not immediately recognise sitting by the door, apparently waiting for him. He cleared his throat and they glanced up. He was shocked to realise it was Potter and Draco. Both were so filthy that they appeared to have hair of the same shade of brown. Their faced, robes, and hands were not much better. His shock allowed Draco time to stand and present him with three neatly wrapped packages, and five bottles of differing sizes.

"A while back you mentioned a continuing interest in rare potions ingredients, so we thought you might like these. Harry made sure the documentation is taken care of, so it's legal."

Snape was absolutely stunned. Two sets of questions competed for priority of utterance. He picked one.

"You said 'we'. Since when do you two co-operate on anything?"

The boys glanced at each other. Harry ended up answering cautiously:

You'd be surprised what you can do with someone, when you're not trying to kill each other."

"Or when you find a common interest," Malfoy added. Snape raised an eyebrow at this, and decided to drop that particular inquiry in favor of other questions.

"What is this?" he demanded, meaning the things he held in his hands.

"Guess!" challenged Draco. The older man undid the largest parcel, and found a carefully rolled skin of a unique, bright green. He gasped and opened the others. One contained two lifeless eyeballs, and the other contained a number of assorted teeth. The bottle, which he noted absent-mindedly were of an antique style, contained blood, a clear liquid the identity of which he could guess, and various organs. When he looked up, Draco was grinning wildly, and Potter was looking nervous.

"I don't quite know what to say," he said at last. "This is…incredible. But, wait: this means you two went down to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Um, yeah."

"Did you tell anyone where you were going?"

"Er…" Draco shot a glance at Harry, who said quietly:

"I told Salazar Slytherin."

"Very useful, Potter." Snape growled.

"If we had been gone much longer, of if he had seen anyone was particularly worried, I'm sure he would have spoken up."

"You think?" Snape's concern for Draco's safety caused him to sneer at the blond-haired young man. "He never says anything to anyone," Snape told Draco snarkily. He was pretending to ignore Harry, so he did not notice that the black-haired boy flushed suddenly for no apparent reason.

"Actually," said a slightly raspy voice from Snape's left, "I do talk to people. Just rarely human people, since I am not fond of English. Or most human languages except Gaelic and Welsh"

Draco jumped slightly at the sound of the voice, and Snape swung sharply around. Slytherin was leaning against the frame of a bizzarre impressionistic painting done only in shades of green and yellow.

"In fact, would you translate for me, lad?" he asked.

"I guess," Harry said wearily.

"How did you come to have an interest in these two?" Snape demanded suspiciously.

"I liked the way young Lightning-Bolt handled Lord Alfard Black's interrogation," was the answer, delivered through Harry. Snape scowled, indicating that further explanations were required to satisfy him.

"Well, Alfard was throwing his weight around, he even called the lad a Gryffindork, but he shut right up when the boy coolly announced his intention of going to clean up the Chamber of Secrets."

"And really did, Sir," added Draco. "There's not much that's messier than a dead basilisk."

"That reminds me," Slytherin said to Harry. "While I agree that you were completely justified in killing that one – a mean old bugger if ever there was – next time you might try reasoning with him or her. A good solid dose of flattery and politeness will usually give you a basilisk that's wrapped around your little finger."

"Okay, I'll try it."

"I don't mind telling you this, since you are a lot nicer than the last parselmouth around here – what was his name, again?"

"Tom Riddle." Harry said shortly, with a scowl.

"Right. Him. Someday I'll get my descendents' names sorted out."

"What's the matter, Harry? Why the black look?"

"I just got a kind of back-handed compliment."

"Oh? Pray repeat it," Snape sneered.

"Apparently I'm considerably politer than the last parselmouth to grace these halls," Harry relied with a bitter, sarcastic edge to his voice that neither of the two slytherins had ever heard come from the Golden Gryffindor. There was an uneasy silence, which Snape decided to break.

"Loathe as I am to admit it, he may have a point. Killing and torturing people is quite rude. Well, Draco, I am touched that you thought of me while you were 'cleaning up'. Now, you run along and do something about your filthy state."

With that, he swooped into his office. With nods to each other and to Salazar, Draco and Harry parted.