Elizabetha was practically beaming as Christmas break came closer and closer. Blaise had finally broken down and told her what exactly it was after she nagged him and Draco enough, both laughing the entire time, and she'd instantly brightened up once she realized that this meant going back to the dementors and prisoners, even for just a little while. She'd been missing the cold and emptiness far too much, the feeling of struggling for her life even when she wasn't in any real danger. Although the whole Christmas thing did still confuse her. What, exactly, were people celebrating?
The decorations and general cheeriness that had taken over the castle still remained and bothered her, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let an opportunity to go back to Azkaban slip through her thin fingers just because of some anxiety about this strange new holiday. Besides, she had found herself becoming reluctantly fond of the silver bells tinkling in Mrs. Malfoys ears, and the tree decorated with silver and green balls of light that sat in a corner of the Slytherin common rooms, even if the food still caused her to gag and throw it all back up later. And the coming of the snow had delighted her, she'd loved being able to slip off her shoes and stockings and running through it until her toes tingled in a painful and familiar way, and her still blue hair became stiff and clumped from the white flakes.
It was now the last day before she could go back home, and she was gleefully throwing her dresses and other things into her trunk. Both Peter and Mina had given them all little silver boxes yesterday, and she paused to stare at her two for a moment before putting them in with the rest. Apparently, they were gifts, just like she got on her birthday, and her other friends had all promised to send her more on the actual Christmas day. The only problem was that she didn't know she was supposed to give people gifts for Christmas. So she told them she'd get them all something as well, and just send them by owl later. She'd already planned some of the gifts out; Draco was getting a carved chunk rock she had in one of her rooms, made to look like tiny, roughly shaped snake about the size of a hand. She knew how to charm it to move and hiss when someone went through its owners things from a book in the library, and knowing Draco he'd probably think it was awesome. After he'd sent it to someone to be shined and diamond encrusted, of course. He was still a Malfoy, after all. And she planned to catch some rats and make their skins into a shawl for Luna, because she was sure the dizzying blond girl would look lovely in rat pelt. Snape, she planned to give some hair and fur from the various creatures held in in Azkaban, which she hoped the professor would be pleased with, considering how fond he seemed to be of werewolf hairs in potions.
She'd considered whether or not to get Harry anything, considering their standing as part friend, part that-person-I-obliviated so-he-wouldn't-tell-anyone-about-the-occupants-of-my-bedroom-at-the-time, and decided to give him something normal. Like a familiar, or potions ingredients, or a book on ancient curses, or a shrunken head, just something little like that.
She'd just have find and browse through Knockturn Alley before Christmas to find some other things, she decided. Maybe she could tell Draco, and they could make a day of it?
Harry sneaked away from his dorm under his invisibility cloak, looking around to make sure no one was around before taking off running down the hall. His friends and all the other boys in his dorm were busy packing to go home, but Harry would be staying at Hogwarts, and he intended to make use of this spare time without his friends breathing down his neck or begging him to come home with them.
He needed this time alone, honestly, because Harry was extremely suspicious, and his friends for some reason weren't. First had come the bloody message on the wall about the chamber of secrets and Ginny Weasley's strange behavior, then the weird gaps in his memory, like how he couldn't remember rushing off with Malfoy and the little first year Slytherin, Elizabetha, but Ron protested that he had. Then again, Ron did have a concussion at the time... Still, though. Now with murderer Sirius Black loose, Harry was sure something dark was up, but Ron and Hermione refused to believe him, insisting that Dumbledore would keep them safe from anything.
So he wasn't exactly sure where he was going to look, but he was determined to find clues and prove to them that something was up. So he ended up on the first floor eventually, walking past a girls bathroom as he looked for anything even remotely suspicious, and he jumped when he heard wailing inside. Harry paused only a moment befrore her followed the sound in, careful to make sure no one saw him going into a girls bathroom. He really didn't want to have to explain his actions.
Inside her followed the wailing to a closed stall, where he heard heavy sniffing and sobbing. It reminded him of Hermione after they had said such mean things to her in his first year, and he swallowed. What if this was another "Hermione" of sorts, in need of comforting?
"Uh- hello?" Harry asked, and instantly something grey lunged through the door. He stumbled back, and fell to the floor, his green eyes wide with terror.
"He killed me!" The grey thing shrieked, and suddenly Harry realized that it was the ghost of a female Hogwarts student, with black pigtails and a scrunched up face.
"Wh-who killed you?" He asked slowly, and her face screwed up even more.
"The thing! With the yellow eyes! And the hissing!" She wailed, and Harry's heart quickened.
"Uh... where is the thing, then? He asked, and she glumly pointed towards the sinks.
"All the hissing." She complained and Harry cautiously started towards the sinks. "And then they killed me."
Harry could see nothing wrong with the sinks, and he was just about to write off the ghost as crazy and turn awy before he noticed that one of the faucets was different then the others. He leaned in for a closer look, and stared when he realized that instead of the simple silver shapes the other faucets held, this one was shaped like a tiny snake head.
"That's where they came from." The ghost whispered from behind him, and he whirled around to find her inches away, looking at him with beady black dead eyes. "He and it. And when they saw me, he hissed to it, and then... death."
Harry swallowed as he looked back to the faucets, his mind racing. Hissed, she said. Like, a parselmouth? Like he and the dark lord, and the heir? Was this... was this where the heir was? The heir, who had opened the chamber of secrets, and had petrified all those people? Who had killed the ghost girl? Who would no doubt kill another?
Harry swallowed again, and gave an experimental hiss. "Open." He said, and jumped back as the faucet obediently folded in on itself, followed by the entire formation of sinks. He hadn't actually thought anything would happen. Yet there, before him in the ground, was an enormous hole in the ground, sinking deep into who knows where. Along the edges he could see scraps of white snakeskin, like a massive snake had passed into the hole while right in the middle of its shedding.
Could this be it? Could this be the entrance to the infamous Chamber of Secrets?
"Well. That was easy. *Bleep* this, in I go!" And Harry jumped.
You'd think that would be a bit rash, wouldn't you? Oh well, he's a Gryffindor, being rash is what those idiots do.
Tom, Jacob, and oddly enough, Nettle, were gone at the moment, leaving Sirius desperately bored and more then a little bit lonely. Mikaela had gone out hunting in Hogsmeade, no doubt sucking the blood from some poor victim at that very moment. Year ago, the thought would have disgusted Sirius, but now he barely shuddered. Being trapped in Azkaban got me used to so many things, he mused. Elizabetha wouldn't be visiting until tomorrow to help them escape the chamber and go to some new home, far away from either Azkaban or Hogwarts, or any other place where they may be recognized and brought back to the prison. So all in all, Sirius was alone in the Chamber for a while, with nothing to do but sit around and reminisce on old events.
He remembered when he'd first met James, and not told him his name for fear that this awesome new light friend of his would reject him just because of his dark family. And how surprised James had been when he was called, and how that surprise had turned to glee when he was sorted into Gryffindor with the other boy, despite being a Black.
He remembered how James had introduced him to all of the people who would later become his best friends, and even later the Marauders, and how happy he'd always been to have such great friends.
He remembered harry being born, how Jame's stag patronus had burst through the wall of his living room and started screaming hysterically about that fact that there was a baby coming out of Lily and whether or not it was possible to be born with glasses, or even worse, antlers. And then he'd said that unless Remus brought the striped pillow that Lily liked, she didn't want them to be there. Sirius sent back his own patronus, also screaming, which said "I can see the headlines now: Godfather not present for birth of best kid ever because sleepy werewolf forgot to bring that pillow.
He remembered the day James and Lily died, and how he'd screamed over their bodies before swearing revenge on Wormtail, and setting off to find the traitorous rat, only to end up being tricked and throw into prison, accused of murders he never committed. How he had stayed there, cold, angry, and alone for years.
He remembered the first time he had spoken to Elizabetha. She'd been toddling calmly past his cell for several months, never once stopping to speak, usually with one dementor trailing after her. Then one day she was alone, and she paused by his cell, and put her hands on the bars to lean in. "Who dog?" She had cooed, and Sirius had taken that as his cue to shift out of his animagus form, making the little girl jump and her pale blue eyes widen. He'd told her his name, and she'd nodded so Siriusly, and just drank it all up, making his heart ache and his lips twist into a friendly grin. And then the next day she showed up too, and the next, and the next, and the next. It took him an amazingly long time to discover her name, or why she was here, but once he did he couldn't stop repeating it, or find it in himself to wish she was somewhere else. Sure, Azkaban was no place for a child, but he'd been stuck in there for years by then, and was more then willing to be a little bit selfish if it meant he could get some company.
He was still willing to be a little bit selfish for some company.
As if his wish had come true, Sirius heard the grating of rock against rock that meant the chambers door sliding open, and he stood up eagerly, ready to talk and play like the ten-year-old trapped in a thirty-year-old's body that he was.
And what he saw made him freeze.
There, in the enterance, stood a boy who looked a lot like James. Well, he was much younger then James last Sirius had seen him, and he didn't have James' eyes. No, he had Lily's eyes. And they filled with hate the moment they met gazes. But still. He looked almost exactly like Sirius' best friend.
"Harry..."
xXx
I understand that this has been way too long since I updated, but I don't want to lie to you, so honestly? I got distracted. I ended up writing four other stories instead, ranging in length from 2,000 words to almost 20,000, and totally ignored this one. And none of them are quite finished yet, either. So updates will still be slow. I'm sorry.
Also, a friend of mine was visiting me, and she suddenly got this serious look, and announced "I'm ready to read Harry Potter slash. What do you recommend?" And she's never read slash before. So the conversation went kind of like this:
"Okay, what kind do you want to read?"
"Dark."
"... how dark are we talking here? Like, Dysonrules Dark, Lastcrazyhorn Dark, Tiro Dark, or full out Katsitting Dark? Because there is a lot of difference here."
And she just looked really confused and asked what I meant, and I realized that people probably never realize that there are different levels to this stuff. It's all different, and I imagine if you start right off reading "Anima Animus" you are going to be slightly traumatized.
So if anyone wonders, here are "The Basic Different Levels of Dark" in HP slash fics, named after on some of my favorite writers:
Dysonrules Dark: If there is such a thing as a light-dark, this is it. Usually Slytherin characters, occasional unrequited love, some lemons, and main character death every now and then. Lots of Drarry, mostly.
Lastcrazyhorn Dark: Harry... has some issues. Like, major issues. Abandonment issues, missing limbs, suicidal tendencies, he's overly lustful, really paranoid; this is where you start to bridge the gap into the madder side of fanfic. Plus much Drarry and Snarry. (SnapexHarry. Yes, this is an actual ship. Yes, it is awesome.)
Tiro Dark: Saying "Oh, look! Harry went dark within the first year and just killed all his friends after going insane, and each death is increasingly more gruesome then the last! And Oh! Look at that! He is now *Insert random male character's name here* underage lover! Splendid!" Basically sums up this level. All sorts of pairings.
Katsitting Dark: "I'm messing heavily with consent" is basically this level's motto. Like... wow. I didn't even know you could use the imperius curse like that until I read a few stories like this. Tomarry, usually, for the obvious reason of how could a Tomarry fic be any other way? It involves a baby Voldemort, it literally cannot be light. So basically, just look up TomxHarry and almost every single fic that pops up will be in this level.
Thank you all for reading, please review, and byeeeeeee!