Chapter Twelve
Sarah felt her vision blur once again, as she landed in a heap, with a painful thump, on a polished wooden floor. She sat up quickly.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice echoing in the large room. It was very old, with ageing paintings of different wizards all wearing elaborate robes of a different era. Sarah's stomach plummeted slightly. She had intended to take them to see this, but now she wasn't so sure about it. She was even less sure when Slytherin grasped her hand, and helped her up.
Without thinking, she held on to his arm, waiting for her dizzy spell to run it's course. Once her vision straightened, and the room became even clearer, she let go, feeling nauseous.
Slytherin frowned at her, his cold blue eyes boring into hers. She looked away instinctively, pretending to examine a prostate statue of a man that had occupied the corner of the room for as long as she could remember.
"Where are we?" Harry asked, coming to stand beside her. She jolted in surprise. Tearing her eyes away from the ivory statue, she grinned delightedly.
"Harry! I can understand you!" she hugged him.
"Finally, Sarah!" Harry returned the gesture. "So what're you doing here? And where are we?"
"Only the last one should constitute and answer at present," came a sharp voice. Ravenclaw was striding towards them, metallic blue robes billowing behind her like rippling waves. Hufflepuff followed closely behind, resembling a daisy with her buttery robes. She was glancing around with unmasked curiosity, her blue eyes wide.
"Agreed," Gryffindor said, joining their circle. Leo stayed back, eyeing the surroundings warily. "Well Leo?"
"Nobody here at the moment, and no sign of danger," he said slowly, straightening his disheveled robes of black.
"Sarah, where are we? This is a memory," Slytherin said. His long thin fingers were clasped in front of him, and he looked at her with an expectant reaction.
Sarah felt her face flush slightly, remembering what she had brought them here to see.
"Bring in the next one!" A man bellowed. They all jumped, spinning around to see a portly man in his forties, sitting on and old, but large, oak chair, intricately carved with patterns of swirls, constructing lettering Sarah had never been able to understand. Sarah immediately recognized herself beside him, dark haired, dark eyed and all angles.
"That's you, isn't it Sarah?" Harry exclaimed, pointing towards her past self. Sarah nodded stiffly. "Is the other man your father?"
"No," Sarah murmured.
"Then who is he? What's happening here?" Slytherin's tone became knife-like as the heavy door slammed open. Two men, their masks glinting in the bare light that managed to reach into the room, were dragging in a woman with lank, matted hair. her robes were torn, and her body was peppered with scratches and bruises. She was struggling viciously, and it was when the guards forcefully held her straight, did they see her swollen belly.
Hufflepuff gasped.
Harry narrowed his eyes, and shot Sarah a look. She refused to reciprocate, keeping her gaze firmly on the woman. She wanted to remember every squirm and every wince of pain.
The woman began screaming, the sound bouncing off the wall, and hitting the onlookers with a force that had Ravenclaw tightening her hand around her wand.
Finally, the woman's slow passage ended with her being thrown in front of the large, pompous man, and Sarah's past self. The man stood languidly from his chair, snatching a roll of parchment from one of the quivering attendants standing behind him.
"Mayella Corpus Cristi," he read aloud, his voice jaunty, as if the scene they had witnessed was put together solely for his entertainment. "You have been brought in front of the High Council Concerning the Investigation of Blood Purity," he took a deep breath, "to determine the legitimacy of your claim as a witch."
"Is this a muggleborn trial?" Harry asked, wincing slightly as his voice resonated in the spacious room.
Sarah nodded. Her eyes prickled unpleasantly, and to her annoyance, she felt her eyes blur once again, but not due to her injuries.
"Why are you crying?" Slytherin asked very quietly. She felt his hand grasp her elbow, and she shook herself free of him.
"Please," the woman, Mayella, pleaded. She had raised her self to her knees, which was difficult, given the circumference of her belly. "Please, I am a witch!"
"Really," the man remarked. "Wand," he held out his hand and the same quivering attendant handed him a short, black wand. "From whom did you steal this mudblood?"
"No one!" the woman cried, her expression frantic. Her hands were grasping her stomach, trying to protect it from the man's gaze. His smile widened and Harry knew the man had missed nothing.
"You have no magical blood, you are no witch, so I ask one last time, who did you steal this wand from?" he thundered.
Harry started.
"I didn't steal it," the woman pleaded. "I'm a witch, the wand chose me. I got it from Ollivander's, I went to Hogwarts."
The Founders all stiffened at the utter of their school. None looked pleased.
"No, you didn't, you're not a witch. You stole this wand, and attempted to masquerade as one," the man enunciated. Harry felt an edge of hatred cross him. His fists clenched tightly together as he reminded himself that they were in a memory, and he would not be able to curse the man.
The woman started crying. "I am, I am, I swear to you!"
"Pray tell me what House you were put in?" the man asked. He had stepped down from the pedestal and was slightly stooped, examining the woman in front of him with a keen eye.
"Hufflepuff," the woman gasped. "I was a Hufflepuff."
"Mercy," Hufflepuff breathed. Her hands were clutched at her breast, and she watched transfixed.
"So not only do you impersonate a witch, you are sorted into a House which only serves to prove your incompetence," the man said, circling her. Mayella attempted to keep eye contact, but she was doing a poor job. Her swollen eyes kept darting around the room, and giving her the look of a cornered animal.
"Please," Mayella whispered, her shoulders slumped, "Please."
"I hereby find you guilty of fraud," the man said briskly, "I sentence you to death."
The trembling attendant steps forward, wand at the ready, but the man stops him.
"No," he said, his mouth stretching into a horrifying grin. "The one we use on special occasions."
Little Sarah, for the most part of the exchange, had remained dutifully by the chair passive, but now she moved, hopping down from the podium to fetch something on the other side of the room. When she returned, Harry felt an icy finger run up his spine. She was carrying a blade.
"Mercy!" the woman screamed.
"No," the man said. With one, fluid movement, he stabbed the woman three times in the belly.
Hufflepuff screamed. She clapped her hands to her ears and turned around. Little Sarah also gave a small scream of her own.
The man shoved the knife at her again, and walked back to the podium.
"My lord, my lord," Ravenclaw whispered. Her hands were white from the grip on her wand. Gryffindor was also grim faced, and his warm brown eyes had dimmed considerably with rage.
The woman writhed, screaming and gargling on the floor. She took in several deep, raspy breaths, and it was a few moments before she stopped. She looked Little Sarah dead in the eyes and whispered once again, "Please, end this. Please."
Little Sarah looked quickly back over at the assembled party, who were now chatting with one another. She raised her arm, was trembling so much she had to put both hands on the blade, and stabbed the woman once in the heart. The woman gave one last jump, one last writhe, and sank deep into the pool of crimson.
"Child," Ravenclaw breathed. "Child, what have you done?"
"I-," Sarah had no way to explain.
"You killed her Sarah," Harry said, his body numb. "Merlin Sar, you killed her!"
Sarah didn't reply.
"You little bitch!" the man bellowed, striding to Little Sarah. He pushed her roughly aside. "She was meant to die painfully as a punishment for her crimes. You've obstructed justice!"
"I-I didn't mean …she was in pain!" Little Sarah said, her eyes wide with youthful ignorance.
"That was the point!" The man bellowed. He wrestled the blade from her, and with one quick movement, sliced her throat.
This time both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff screamed. They spun instantly to face the girl, whose face was tilted upwards, tears glistening on her flushed cheeks.
"Oh Sarah," Harry murmured, wrapping his arms around her, and burying his face in her shoulder.
The door to the room burst open and a tall, regal man with dark hair, that was kept trimmed neatly at shoulder length, entered. He took one swift look around the room, and pulled out his wand, pointing it wordlessly at Little Sarah.
On her knees, clutching her bloody throat, Little Sarah's face showed immense relief. She stood slowly, shakily, wiping her bloody hands on her robes.
"Selwyn, are you deranged, or are you daring to defy me?" the man bellowed.
"You don't tell me what to do," the tall man said quietly. The room started to shake, and Harry felt his senses tingle as his surroundings vanished.
"Sarah, why didn't you tell me?" he said, turning to the girl. Her cheeks were now as red as the blood that had been dripping from her neck all those years ago. Sarah remained silent.
"She'll talk to me," Slytherin said firmly, striding forward and grabbing her by her cloak. He started hissing harshly, and she struggled out of his grip, shaking her head and retreating behind Harry.
"This still hasn't explained much," Ravenclaw frowned. She looked about as their surroundings gradually rematerialized. This time, they were in a large, very familiar library.
"Hogwarts," Hufflepuff said instantly, starting to smile a little at the children milling between the shelves, large books tucked under their arms. It was well lit, and was a much more cheerful in contrast to the memory they just cam from.
"Let's hope this memory is better," Gryffindor said, shooting Sarah a look.
"Yes, let's hope it is," Harry said drily, though he had a feeling that this little trip was going to be far from enjoyable, for any of them.
"Oi, Selwyn, get over here."
Once again, they were all caught by surprise at the sudden voice. Harry immediately scowled. He would know that voice anywhere. Malfoy.
Malfoy looked about twelve, still pointy chinned and mean eyed. They glinted with malign just now, as they watched past Sarah put down the book she was reading.
"No, Malfoy," past Sarah replied, "I won't come if you can't ask nicely."
Malfoy scowled this time, and Harry felt pleased with Sarah's defiance.
"You'll want to do as I say. I know," Malfoy said conspiratorially.
Past Sarah ignored him and kept on reading.
"I know who the heir of Slytherin is," Malfoy announced suddenly. The library quieted and everyone looked around. Past Sarah dropped her book, and it fell to the carpeted floor with a thud. "It's her," he pointed. He grinned savagely. "It's her that's been setting the monster on all the mudbloods and the Squib's cat, she's the heir!"
"Monster?" Leo asked, raising an eyebrow, "He's got to be exaggerating."
"He's not," Harry said grimly. The founders exchanged more looks.
"W-what?" past Sarah sputtered, jumping to her feet, "I am not!"
"Yes you are, I saw you talking to that snake!" he finished, almost crowing with delight.
"I am not, Malfoy, and if you make a big deal out of this, you'll only embarrass yourself," Sarah said, picking up her book again, and sitting down. She flicked through the pages, trying to find her place.
"Why's that Selwyn?" Grey eyes flashed, a silent dare. The whole room was holding it's breath, faces turning from Malfoy to Sarah.
Slytherin was still breathing deeply, and looked so sick, Harry feared he would pass out.
"Because, if you haven't already noticed, I'm a girl," Sarah said calmly, "The heir of Slytherin must be a male. Do I really need to explain pureblood familial inheritance to you Malfoy?"
"What's all this about my heir?" Slytherin demanded. Both Harry and Sarah refused to answer.
Malfoy gulped at the air, like he was trying to swallow something deeply unpleasant. "But-But," he muttered.
"I'm not the one trying to kill off the muggleborns, and I'm not the one who's controlling the monster," Sarah said clearly.
"Kill!" Ravenclaw said.
The scene dissolved once again, and Harry caught one last glimpse of wide eyed Slytherins.
Their surroundings soon materialized to a room Harry remembered very, very well.
"Sarah, why they fuck are you showing them the Chamber?" Harry snarled, grabbing her arm.
"I don't know Harry, I just don't know," Sarah said, glancing around swiftly with keen, dark eyes. "The voices will start again soon."
And sure enough they did. This time, however, they were ready for it, and when Riddle's voice spoke, the group did not react with surprise, although both Harry and Sarah shivered.
"Well Potter, Cousin, what did you think you would accomplish by marching down here?"
Harry scrutinized his past self, noting how much skinnier he had been when he was twelve. His robes were very loose on his thin frame, and despite the defiant expression, he looked laughable. Which is probably why Riddle laughed so much when he had laid eyes on them.
Past Sarah made another reappearance. This time, she was completely soaked, and Harry remembered she had landed in a large puddle of mud when they had jumped down the tunnel into the Chamber of Secrets. He watched her now with greater interest than he did that night. This was when they had first become friends. They had needed someone to get them into the Chamber, and after they had figured out a basilisk was the monster, they had gone straight to the only person they knew was a Parselmouth.
Harry had overheard the Slytherins muttering a lot in the weeks leading up to Ginny's kidnapping, and Fred and George had informed them that one of the Slytherins turned out to be a Parselmouth. Harry smirked slightly. It looked like the Slytherins weren't as good with secrets as they'd like to think.
"Where's Ginny, Riddle?" past Harry demanded.
Riddle laughed again. "She's over there," he said lightly, indicating with a twitch of the wand he had taken from Harry towards the entrance of a large stone snake's head where a small bundle of black and ginger was just visible. Both Harry and Sarah rushed to her at once, kneeling down by the unconscious girl. Past Harry watched himself shake Ginny by the shoulders before Sarah pushed him away and felt for the girl's pulse.
"I can't find it," past Sarah said, her voice trembling.
"Indeed," Riddle said, strolling languidly towards them. "But she's still alive, just. Funny how a diary can possess enough power to sap the life, the soul out of a living girl. Of course she's been writing to me all year, did you know?" Riddle smiled patronizingly. He adopted a high pitched tone, "Oh, Tom, today I had the most terrible day…Dear Tom, Hogwart's has been awful lately, I'm so glad I have you to talk with…Tom, someone's attacking all the muggleborn's…Oh Tom, there's a girl that can speak Parseltongue, do you think she's the heir…Tom, I don't think the good, great and wonderful Harry Potter would ever like me!" He fell into hysterics, his laughter echoing through the Chamber.
"Goodness," Hufflepuff said, looking sick once again.
Leo's fists were clenched tightly, and Gryffindor looked no better. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at Slytherin.
"You're mad," past Harry bit out angrily. "You're mad!"
"Am I?" Riddle said, stopping his fit abruptly. "Could I have orchestrated this meeting if I was mad?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes I probably could have."
"Orchestrated this…? Why would you want to meet with us?"
"Not us, just you," Riddle said, staring intensely at Harry. "Just the famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the only one to survive the killing curse, and defeat the most powerful dark wizard of all time when he was just an infant," Riddle said, trailing away softly.
"The…what?" Ravenclaw said sharply.
"What..?" past Harry said, his voice heavy with disbelief. "Voldemort was after your time."
Riddle's bared his teeth frighteningly when Harry said the name. "Lord Voldemort is my past, present and future."
He raised the wand elegantly, and traced his name in large, fiery orange letters. Tom Marvolo Riddle.
With a graceful flick, the letters rearranged themselves. I am Lord Voldemort.
The Founders mouthed the name silently.
Both past Harry and Sarah gasped, stepping quickly away from Riddle.
"Don't you see Harry Potter, that this, all these mudbloods, were just little games? I was bored. The real prize…was you." Riddle watched him keenly. "How was it that an infant was able to defeat me? What happened that night Harry Potter? And the longer you talk, the longer you live," he added, fingering his wand.
"I don't know," past Harry said, looking desperately around the Chamber.
"Crucio!"
Harry watched as his twelve-year old self writhed on the floor, screaming in agony.
"That…that…" Hufflepuff said angrily.
"I'm so sorry," Slytherin murmured over and over again.
"Stop it!" past Sarah yelled, kicking out at Riddle. Riddle ended the spell and slapped her across the face.
Gryffindor growled furiously.
"Don't talk that way to me, dear cousin," he hissed. Sarah stumbled back, tripping over Harry in the process. Now both on the floor, Riddle stood over them, his expression menacing. "Now, Potter, tell me!" he snarled, his face transforming into a terrifying sight. His handsome features morphed into something animalistic.
"My mum," Harry said, stumbling over the words. "My mum, she died protecting me from you, her love…her love saved me."
"Love?" Leo repeated. "Can that be true, uncle?"
Gryffindor grunted.
"Ah," Riddle said, looking thoughtful. "Yes…that is a powerful counter charm." He looked back at them again, sprawled on the floor. "So there isn't anything special about you after all, Potter. It was only luck that saved you, from me, and here we are. Here we are." He turned smartly on his heel, and strode back to the large stone statue of a man with his mouth wide open. He started hissing at it, and past Sarah sat up suddenly, listening.
"Oh Lord, no!" Slytherin moaned, swaying. Gryffindor and Leofrick both went to him, each holding him up from one side, as he looked too weak to support himself.
"No!" she cried, jumping to her feet and racing over to where Riddle was. Past Harry scrambled after her.
Past Sarah started hissing desperately, trying to drown out Riddle.
Riddle turned to give her a cold look. "Too late cousin," he said. "I'm the heir of Slytherin."
Ravenclaw shrieked suddenly, pointing towards the open-mouthed statue. A giant, dirty snake was slowly slithering towards the group. The Founders all stood aside in shock and awe. Even in the dim light of the Chamber, it was a sight to behold.
Past Harry and Sarah thought very differently. Harry grabbed Sarah by the robes and they both ran for dear life. Riddle's maniacal laughter following them.
"Good, the first clever thing I've seen you do," Ravenclaw breathed. Here eyes were still wide, and the colour was yet to return to her cheeks.
Harry felt an unpleasant tugging in his stomach, and found himself face down on a cold stone floor. He sat up, and saw that they were now back in the red and gold decorated room that Sarah had been treated in.
"Was that it?" he asked, as Leofrick pulled him to his feet. He glanced around the room at the others. They were all picking themselves off the floor. Sarah was still lying on the ground, groaning. She sat up, trembling, and began to work away the bandages on her arm.
Harry's protests died from his lips when he saw Gryffindor's subtle head shake. As soon as they were off, and she had wiped away the congealed blood that covered the wound, she stared at the lettering, which was clear even from where Harry was standing. She stared at it for a long while, everyone watching with baited breath. She did nothing, however, and merely rewrapped the bandages, breathing heavily.
"Sar, can you still understand me?" Harry asked gently.
"Perfectly," she replied. He went and sat by her, and she leant her head on his shoulder, beginning to sob.
"I can understand perfectly too," Harry murmured, putting his arms around her.
The Founders watched sadly.
"We still need a proper explanation, especially about that Voldemort character," Gryffindor said grimly.
"It can wait a while longer," Hufflepuff whispered, watching the two. "Let them be for now, Godric."