Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
Thanks for the reviews :)
Questions concerning:
Sirius: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten him. He will come in soon.
Harry's ability to do what he sees within memories: Whatever he sees in a memory (such as Voldemort's or Dobby's) he is able to do, though he may need to learn control or be forced into a situation to use a certain spell (hence Ardesco on the Troll or the Golden Ward at Number 4), the knowledge is there, ready to surface from his subconscious.
--Phoenix--
:Parseltongue:
- - - Book 2 — Part 13: The Pact
Harry woke up to a flickering tongue brushing against his cheek.
:Revlis! You're back!:
:Indeed. I have a lot to tell you, she is amazing:
:She?: Harry asked, now sitting up, moonlight reflecting off of Revlis' silver scales.
:Madam Basilisk, she's gorgeous: Revlis hissed reverently.
Harry smirked. Who would have thought snakes could have crushes?
:I'm sure she is: Harry said. :So? How did it go?:
:Well… she didn't like the idea of having a meeting with, er… a human, but I've convinced her she can trust you, or at least meet with you. I told her if she doesn't like you, she can bite you or make you look at her:
:Revlis…: Harry hissed a little reprehendingly/worriedly.
:I'm just kidding, geesh. But I did say she could bite you if you did something stupid:
Harry raised an eyebrow.
:It was the only way I could get her to agree, okay?:
"Harry? Who ya talkin' to?" Neville asked in a whisper, waking up. "I heard voices."
"Voices? Don't you mean hisses?" Harry asked, teasingly.
"Um, no. Voices, you talking to Sirius?"
"No, Revlis," Harry replied, now a little confused.
:I think he can understand me: Revlis hissed.
"Revlis?" Neville asked, now able to make out the gleaming serpent on Harry's pillow.
"You heard Revlis?" Harry whispered, glancing at the others in the room. They were still sound asleep.
:Can you hear me? Hello? Can my bonded friend hear me?: Revlis asked, slithering towards the end of the bed to Neville, hopefully.
"Bits and pieces, you sound like a broken Wizard Radio," Neville said, trying to make out words within the hissing sounds.
:Neville, you mean, you can actually understand us?: Harry asked.
"If you asked if I could understand you, then the answer is sort of. All I heard just then was, 'Neville, you… - understand we?'"
Harry grinned and muttered at the same time as Neville, "the bond."
- - -
Harry and the others started their day, Harry and Neville telling them what Revlis had said and that Harry would be going down into the chamber after classes that day.
It was Friday, and after class, the seven of them would spread out, covering what they needed to do.
Harry and Revlis would go into the Chamber, since Revlis had only been able to get 'Madam Basilisk' to allow for Harry to come. Draco would wait at the entrance to the Chamber for their return, acting as lookout.
Hermione, Crabbe and Goyle would be in the Come and Go Room, researching spells, planning out possible new contacts and what else they should do in improving the Custosae, since they had completed their homework earlier that week. In the time before Revlis returned, they had already figured out how to create the communicating mirrors like Harry's, Crabbe being the one to make the surprising breakthrough. The breakthrough involved a permanent rune seal on the back of the mirror before coating it over with a specific solution that would 'link' the two mirrors, allowing for communications to pass between, and only between, those specific mirrors.
The books within the Come and Go Room were truly helpful.
Ron and Neville would go to the library to finish some homework they had overlooked, since doing homework during the weekend just seemed so wrong.
However, when they were on their way to the library, Ron and Neville were stopped by McGonagall.
"Professor?" Ron asked.
"The Headmaster wishes to speak with you, Weasley. Don't worry, you are not in trouble. Longbottom, you may wait for him in the library," McGonagall said.
Ron and Neville shared a brief look.
"Yes, professor," Neville said, giving a shrug to Ron as he left to the library without him.
"Is something wrong?" Ron asked, worriedly.
"No, the Headmaster simply wishes to discuss a few things with you," she said, guiding him to the Headmaster's office. Ron fought against gulping.
- - -
Harry and Draco entered Myrtle's bathroom, Revlis around Harry's neck.
"I'll keep watch and close the chamber behind you," Draco said, after making sure Myrtle wasn't there.
Harry gave a nod.
"We'll be back as soon as we can," Harry said, turning to the sink. :Open:
The sinks shifted.
:Stairs:
Stairs formed, leading down into the dark depths.
"Say hi from me," Draco added.
"I will," Harry answered, going forward.
:Close: Draco said, sealing the chamber once again.
He turned around, finding a good place to sit, and took out one of his spell books to read. Might as well study some to fight boredom and the crazed thoughts that were beginning to surface, wondering what was happening down in the chamber and when Harry and Revlis would return.
- - -
Harry continued down, opening and going through a circular door before continuing down another tunnel.
"Wow," Harry said as he got to a broad hallway lined with the heads of snakes.
:Down there Master Harry: Revlis said, pointing with the tip of his silver tail.
:Alright Revlis: Harry said, fighting back second thoughts about doing this.
He stopped, standing in the damp large chamber, the huge stone face of Salazar Slytherin before him.
:Okay, so we just wait?: Harry asked, but before Revlis could answer, the mouth of Salazar opened, a hiss coming beyond it.
Harry immediately closed his eyes, knowing the effects and powers of basilisks, thanks to the research he had done with the others earlier that week, as well as Riddle's memories.
:Speaker, you have nothing to fear from me: said a strong voice that, though initially could be mistaken as a male's voice (as Harry had done in viewing the memory), was a smoothing female's.
Harry raised his head to the voice, hearing something very large slide out of the statue's mouth and lower itself in front of him, but kept his eyes closed.
:I will not make eye contact with you, you need not shut your eyes: she said.
Harry slowly opened his eyes, having to slow the beat of his heart as he found himself in front of the very imposing serpent.
:Thank you for seeing me, Madam Basilisk: Harry stated, forcing his eyes to stay on the scales of the Basilisk no where near her head.
She chuckled, which was a series of mildly disturbing, though good-natured, hisses.
:You have listened to Revlis I see, calling me that; however, that is not my name, or at least not a name I wish to be called by a human. I am Salandra, and you may call me this: the Basilisk said. :Now, speak. Who are you, and why have you asked to speak with me?:
:Salandra, I am Harry Potter, and I'll be blunt and get to the point. I have Tom Riddle's memories and know of the conversation you had with him concerning bonds. I have come, concerning recent events, to ensure you are not forced to do anything you do not wish to do if a Parselmouth came and ordered you to do something: Harry said, having spoken with Revlis about being honest, maybe even painfully so. :I am not asking for a bond exactly, but I have come here to let you know that I am against Tom Riddle, because I think you are too. Salandra, I humbly ask for your alliance:
Salandra shifted her large body, and if Harry could have looked, he would have found an intrigued expression, or at least as much as an expression one can see on a snake.
:You are requesting a Pact: Salandra stated.
- - -
Ron stepped into the Headmaster's office, McGonagall having to coax him to continue into the room than stopping in the door way.
"Ah, Mr. Weasley, good afternoon. Minerva, thank you for bringing him," Dumbledore said.
McGonagall left with a nod, shutting the door behind her.
"Please take a seat, my boy, and don't look so nervous, I assure you you're not in trouble," Dumbledore said as Ron slowly took a seat, cautiously looking around the room.
After gazing at all the cool shiny things on the shelves he could see and glancing at the plentiful portraits around him, his eyes came to rest on Fawkes, before snapping back to Dumbledore.
The office was a lot to take in, remembering Harry and Draco's descriptions of it when they had entered a few weeks ago, including what, or rather who, Fawkes was.
"I trust Misters Potter and Malfoy told you about Fawkes," Dumbledore said.
"Yes sir," Ron said.
"Very good, lemon drop?" he asked, offering him the bowl.
"Thanks," Ron said, taking a few, though he didn't eat them.
"They're just charmed with a light calming spell. I've learned it helps students," Dumbledore said. Fawkes seemed to nod.
Ron caught the nod and knew Phoenixes were very Light creatures, they would not condone lying or the tricking of someone, so he ate a drop.
"There was something you wanted to talk to me about, sir?" Ron asked, seeing that Dumbledore was waiting for him to say something, either that or Dumbledore himself was thinking how exactly to start the conversation himself.
"Mr. Weasley, you are probably wondering why I really asked you here right now; clearly it wasn't to offer lemon drops and share a purely light conversation."
"A little," Ron admitted.
"Ronald, I know you are deeply loyal to your friends and will not share things you feel they would rather you not, but I am honestly concerned and wish to help in every way I can, if I'm needed," Dumbledore said, folding his hands together, which only made his presence even more impressive.
"Share things?" Ron asked hesitantly.
"How has Harry been? I ask you because you are clearly one of his best friends and probably know more about him than most. What I am most concerned about is how he has been sleeping, I don't want him to think just because the dorm has now been fortified and protected that no one cares how he is sleeping, or, rather, not sleeping."
"Uh, Headmaster, not to be rude or anything but… why not ask him?" Ron asked, afraid to make eye contact but managing to somehow anyway.
"I had thought about that, but like other people, he might not remember he had woken from a dream by the time morning comes. He could have had a nightmare and woke up, only to go back to sleep and forget about even having one in the morning. This is why," Dumbledore said, understanding Ron's hesitancy and question.
"I think he's been sleeping well. I've only been woken up by him once after that night, but he seemed fine. He just sat up, looking startled. I asked him if he was okay and he nodded, saying, 'I just saw him again, but I'm okay now.' He then laid back down, rolled over, and went back to sleep," Ron said, not mentioning the fact that though he hadn't been woken up by Harry the other times he had woken up from a nightmare (or whatever one should call them), Harry did tell him and the others that he got several more 'memory dreams' during the previous week.
"I'm glad to hear that. Does he talk to you about them?" Dumbledore asked, knowing he was treading on thin ice, but his concern made him continue.
Ron met Dumbledore's eyes, silently hoping his Occlumency wouldn't slip should Dumbledore try to 'graze' as he inwardly chanted, 'Occlumency-Occlumency… calm… calm… Occlumency-Occlumency… calm… calm…'
"A little," he stated, deciding that was all the answer he would give.
Dumbledore nodded, feeling a little better about the situation. Harry talking about his dreams would help, and Dumbledore was glad Harry had someone he trusted to really talk about things, even if it wasn't him, though he wished it was.
He had some suspicions that Harry told his close friends about having these dreams, but having proof gave much more relief than hopeful suspicions ever could. He clung to this fact, though wishing he could help more himself.
He refocused onto Ron, expecting to find an impatient, bored, annoyed or even curious face; instead, he found Ron staring at Fawkes with an utterly dumbfounded look.
- -
"A little," Ron muttered, for some reason finding these questions trying his nerves.
Why was Dumbledore asking him these things? It just seemed wrong to be talking about Harry like this. Sure, Dumbledore seemed to be really concerned, and in a way this eased Ron's feelings about answering his questions, however vague they may be, but he couldn't help but feel annoyed with his Headmaster for questioning him, instead of just talking to Harry about Harry's dreams.
--Do not judge Albus too much, young one--
What the—
Ron looked around, ignoring the fact Dumbledore seemed to be deep in his own thoughts, as he tried to find the source of the voice.
--I am speaking in your mind, if you are wondering. No one else can hear me.--
Who…who are you? he asked, strengthening his Occlumency to the best of his ability.
--Occlumency does not work on me, just so you know.-- The voice seemed to chuckle at that before continuing. --As to who I am, I am Fawkes.--
Ron shot his eyes to the grand bird beside Dumbledore's desk and gaped as Fawkes gave him a nod, the Phoenix's eyes betraying amusement.
"Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, a little bewildered to what had caused this staring contest between his familiar and one of his more promising students.
--You might as well tell him, he will learn what is happening soon enough-- Fawkes said, calmly resituating his wings.
"I think…Fawkes is talking to me," Ron managed, not taking his eyes off the red bird.
--You think? Goodness child, how thick are you? I am talking to you, no need to say you think I am; I am!--
Ron jumped, Fawkes raising his head up, as if pleased he made Ron jump.
Dumbledore looked at Fawkes over his spectacles, his eyebrows going up slightly.
Fawkes gave him a quick glance and a nod to confirm what he was doing.
--Phoenixes, like myself, can choose to communicate with humans in a number of ways. Though for most humans this communication is limited to receiving feelings or 'random good ideas' there are a few, like you, who can receive more.--
"Me?" Ron asked dumbly.
Dumbledore stayed silent, deciding it best to watch as this played out. Ron could hear Fawkes' thoughts? Even he couldn't do that, though he was able to receive more intelligible feelings and 'ideas' from Fawkes than most, he couldn't transverse in actual word conversations.
For Dumbledore, all conversations with Fawkes was one sided. He'd talk, Fawkes would return feelings, not words.
--Fire Child, do you think bright flaming red hair was just a simple family trait? It goes much deeper than that. Your family is one of the last lines with this gift.--
"My whole family? So…so you could talk to my brothers and my sister?" Ron asked.
--Of course, though I've only spoken with Charlie. I have not had a good opportunity with your other brothers, and have yet to meet your sister. As for your parents, it was not needed. For you though, more than likely it will be.--
Ron sat there, trying to take everything in.
--Don't tell anyone else about this, save Harry and your Custosae companions. Yes, I know about that — helped Dobby deliver the letter to Albus. And don't worry, Albus doesn't suspect a thing. Anyways, I want the pleasure of seeing the surprise on your siblings faces should I begin a discussion with them.--
Okay, I won't tell them. Ron thought back.
--Ah, getting the hang of this already are you? Brilliant. Now, onto business. I wanted to let you know I am offering my services to the efforts of the Custosae; also, I wanted to alert you to something. There is an evil growing within the castle. It is not strong enough to act yet, but it is of a very dark nature. Warn your companions of it.--
An evil?
--Yes. I am sorry I cannot tell you more, but it is all I have right now. Well, I think you should complete this conversation with Albus, this talking in your mind is a little tiring since I have not had such a lengthy conversation like this one in over a decade. Time for a nap!--
Ron raised an eyebrow as Fawkes gave a slight chirp and buried his head under his wing to sleep.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, like Mr. Potter and others you associate with, you are sure full of surprises," Dumbledore stated, his eyes, Ron swore, glowing like the sun as they twinkled.
Ron, fighting back the twinkling glare, gave an overwhelmed sigh in agreement.
- - -
:So… You'll agree to this?: Harry asked, ever conscious that should he look up, instant death awaited him if he met Salandra's eyes.
:Yes, I will not harm or kill any protected resident of Hogwarts if it can be avoided, swearing my allegiance to you. In return, you will place me under your protection, preventing any other parselmouth from commanding me unless they have received your permission: Salandra said, quite pleased with the arrangement this child had made with her.
It gave her freedom and protection, and removed the worry that she would commit her worst fear: hunting the Children of Hogwarts. Though it felt odd having a mere child as her 'protector' as the Pact arranged, it was rather refreshing to have a Steward over her once again.
A Steward was a step below Master. It provided all of the protective qualities of a Master, but without the high authority of one. The authority being, of course, the ability to give commands she would have to carry out. A Steward's authority simply prevented the 'protectee' from violating his trust, so as long as she stayed within the beliefs/rules of the Steward that had been laid out during the creation of the Pact, she was safe from all other authorities, including bonds.
Pacts could only be placed on very magical creatures, which was the reason why Revlis had to bond himself to Neville — he wasn't magical enough to make a Pact. However, like Fawkes, Salandra's magic was high enough to. For instance, Fawkes had made a pact with Dumbledore, he even allowed himself to carry out requests made by the old light-sided wizard; however, it was clear Albus Dumbledore was not his master.
:Let us make this Pact then: Revlis said as Harry pulled out his wand, himself and Salandra having prepared themselves.
:I, Salandra, humble servant of Salazar Slytherin, one of the Great Four, do submit myself under the protection of Harry James Potter, who has yet to earn his true title, and swear not to harm anyone under the protection of Hogwarts as I continue to serve as a protector here to the best of my ability:
Harry raised his wand a little more, remembering Salandra's previous instructions when they had gone over what a Pact was and how it was made.
:I, Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, do place Salandra, humble servant of Salazar Slytherin, under my protection, and become her Steward:
Bright green and white light streamed out of his wand, coating him and Salandra in it like a blanket, before it finally dimmed and faded.
:Child, go now and rest. I shall be forever grateful to you: Salandra said honestly and with as much emotion that was possible for such an old cold-blooded serpent.
Harry and Revlis left with tired good byes, the magic needed for sealing the Pact having drained Harry to the point of near exhaustion. He would sleep well tonight, well, after dinner and after he had met with the others in the Come and Go Room to brief them, so to speak.
- - -
Dumbledore looked down at his students from the high table. His eyes glided from the Hufflepuff table to the Slytherin table, falling to rest on the blond headed boy who he, the previous year, had believed would become the reincarnate of Malfoy Senior.
Oh how glad he was this would no longer be, though he did find a certain number of the circumstances surrounding it rather sad, but it could not be helped now; however, perhaps it was better this way. Severus raising him, his loyalties rooted in things worthwhile…
Dumbledore knew things had changed for the boy since the beginning of last year. Young Malfoy was no longer the young prince he had been, no longer the spoiled son of a rich Dark Lord follower. No, he was now his own person, detached from the darkness his father had fallen into.
Dumbledore let his eyes take in the scars that would now forever trail along the side of the boy's face and down his neck, no doubt continuing in disordered patches down his shoulder and arm.
Dumbledore gave a silent sigh, oblivious to Snape watching him as he let his eyes move to the boys on either side of Draco — Crabbe and Goyle, their parents probably still loyal to the disembodied Dark Lord.
When did they make their choice? he wondered, but then remembered. When Harry had stopped Riddle last year.
Upon that thought, his eyes went to the Gryffindor table, finding Harry and his friends in a light conversation.
Dumbledore smiled to himself, recalling the conversation he had with Minerva about this 'secretive defensive club', no doubt in retaliation or in response to Lockhart's disaster. Dumbledore shook his head at that, wishing he had been able to find a competent teacher. Maybe next year.
He looked to Hermione Granger, no doubt the organizer of this soon-to-be organization which would have its first meeting that Sunday, this day being Friday. He wondered idly what they would name it, should prove enlightening.
He then looked to Ronald Weasley across from Hermione, a definite surprise in more ways than one. Sure, his loyalties were no surprise, but from his previous encounters with the lad, he had seemed, well, for lack of a better term, dense and unhelpful, overshadowed by his brothers. And yet, here he was, with Potter, Granger, Longbottom and three Slytherins no less, actually contributing something. Though what exactly, he was still a little unsure about that. And Weasley's ability to speak with Fawkes? That was definitely a surprise. Sure, he had had suspicions concerning the Weasley's in having that ability, but to have Fawkes actually open a conversation? That was the surprise.
Dumbledore subconsciously wandlessly cut up his tender steak as he moved to Neville. Such a quiet boy, and being the grandson of Augusta, it was no wonder, but now… Dumbledore's eyes began twinkling more than usual. Now, now the boy was the perfect combination of his parents—cautious, bold, loyal and unyielding, at least when it came to the important things.
Dumbledore was about to get a second helping of potato stew as, suddenly, Neville, it seemed, was in danger of choking to death, Ron practically beating his back with his fist. But after a few more poundings from Ron, an olive of some short shot out of his mouth and pinged Harry in the head. Dumbledore fought down a chuckle as the Gryffindor table roared with laughter, Neville turning beet red as he started laughing too.
Dumbledore focused on Harry, who was shaking his head good-naturedly, a tired smile on his lips.
Dumbledore frowned.
He seemed fine this morning and during lunch, what on earth could have caused him to crash like this? Dumbledore wondered.
He looked to Harry's friends and even to his snake, Revlis. They seemed to not be worried, though earlier he could have sworn Hermione had dished something out onto Harry's plate from the corner of his eye when he was looking at the Slytherin table. And now that he looked closely, Revlis seemed to be wrapped supportively down Harry's arm, his head resting on the back of Harry's hand.
Odd, Dumbledore thought as he realized Harry was raising his head, his green eyes not as bright as he was used to seeing.
Dumbledore gave him his smile, though he wasn't entirely sure if he had been able to hide his worry in time. Harry smiled in return, giving a slight nod as he turned back to his friends, Ron having asked him something.
Dumbledore sighed, hoping the boy was getting enough sleep as he turned his eyes to the other students before him.
Cedric Diggory, a good kid, Sprout had given him the invitation to the 'secretive club' as well as several other upper years in Hufflepuff. That young man had a promising future, Dumbledore was sure.
Oliver Wood, another one with a promising future ahead, and another student invited to the club. Fred and George had been invited as well, though Ron had done the inviting, not Minerva.
There were several other students he pondered on, wondering what this generation would become, and what history would see them as centuries from now. He turned his thoughts away from that though as thoughts of Riddle somehow surfaced.
Before he knew it, dinner was over, and so, he cheerfully bid his students good night and dismissed them, his eyes following one tired Gryffindor out of the Great Hall before deciding one of his self-made isolated professors was due for a visit from him.
Trelawney.
- - -
Dumbledore made his way up the seemingly endless stairs, wondering again why he had ever agreed with Trelawney in letting her have this absurdingly tall tower. He cast a reenergizing charm on his legs and a comforting one on his joints.
Perhaps he should look into placing an elevator…
Finally, he made it to Trelawney's quarters.
Why on earth does she not have a fireplace? he wondered as he knocked.
"Ah, Headmaster, please please come in, I saw you coming. Tea?" she asked, leading him into her sitting room before taking a step to her right and bumping into a little stand.
Dumbledore fought off a smirk.
Ah, Trelawney…
"Yes, some tea is always good," he said, taking his normal seat across from her.
He always made it a point to visit her, at least once a month, if not more, despite the long travel to meet with her.
"Yes, tea helps clear my inner eye, never fails," she said, spilling some tea as she poured some into her cup.
As she was looking down, no doubt wiping up her mess, Dumbledore banished some of the smoke around him. Too much of the overbearing fragrance gave him a headache.
"Doing well, Sybil?" Dumbledore asked.
"As well as I have foreseen, I have no troubles," she said, straightening the things on the small table as she took her cup and sat down.
"Very good, wouldn't want any of my staff to be ill," Dumbledore said, the smoke now returning around him. He had to consciously not wave a hand about to clear the area for some breathable air.
"I don't think the staff will have much illness this year, my inner eye tells me we have a healthy year ahead of us," Trelawney said, taking a sip, her thick, larger than earth, glasses slipping down to the edge of her nose.
Dumbledore continued simple conversation, as he always did, Trelawney, humming and giving an occasional vague 'futuristic' statement.
After several more minutes, Dumbledore casually looked at the time, seeing it was definitely time for bed.
"Well Trelawney, it seems time has snuck up on me, and I must retire to bed. Thank you for yet another splendid cup of tea," he said, standing up to go.
Trelawney gave a nod, about to say goodnight as well, but then she went rigid…
Dumbledore felt his chest tighten, having seen this before as she suddenly spoke, her voice layered with countless others, echoing about him…
"As the season of Growth begins,
"Within the Chamber of the Serpent Founder,
"The Dark Lord shall return.
"However, his equal will disrupt a ritual,
"But be forced into the Realm of the Dead,
"And there, he will be embraced. . . ."
Dumbledore fell back into his seat, heavily, immediately going over the implications of this and coming to a fearful conclusion.
After a moment of time he didn't notice go by, Trelawney came out of it, instantly sitting up and leaning towards him.
"Albus? Are you alright? You do not look well," she said, her voice cracking slightly with worry.
"I'm alright, Sybil. I'll head to bed now," he stood up, forcing his legs not to crumble underneath him. "Thank you for the tea again," he said, closing the door behind him before Trelawney could say anything more.
His mind now racing, he traveled down the stairs, the newly proclaimed prophesy ringing in his ears.
The Dark Lord shall return… he repeated. His equal… a ritual… The Realm of the Dead…
The 'season of growth'…Spring… March 20th, he concluded, barely realizing he was now entering his office.
What should he do now? What could he do?
The Custosae. They must be told. If Riddle returns, they should begin preparing, if they are not already, and maybe they will be able to make a plan that can prevent this if I cannot.
'His equal'… Harry…
Dumbledore grabbed some parchment and quickly began writing, requesting the Head of the Custosae, if it would be possible, to move up their meeting, even through the mirrors, which he had already decided to agree to earlier that day.
He then quickly placed it in an envelope, cast the necessary spells, and sealed it as he grabbed some floo power and stepped into his fireplace.
"Snape's Quarters," he stated.
- - -
Snape was preparing the lesson he would give to Harry and Draco for the next day, deciding it was time to expose them to some creatures everyone should know how to defend themselves from.
It was nearly eleven, his notes on the lesson nearly perfect when, suddenly, his fireplace flared to life, and out stepped a very troubled old wizard.
"Albus?" he gasped. "Merlin, are you alright?" he asked, immediately standing up to try and guide him to a chair.
Dumbledore waved him off, lifting his other hand holding an envelope. He quickly waved his hand and rose several more privacy wards over the wards Snape always had up.
"This needs to get to the Head of the Custosae as soon as possible. I have just obtained some… disconcerting information."
"Disturbing seems more like," Snape stated, taking the envelope.
"What has happened?" Snape asked, wondering when Draco would be able to deliver this obviously vital information to the Custosae and then how long it would take them to get it to the Head.
The Custosae seemed to have a reasonably fast system, though, if time was of the essence, how fast could they be?
"I returned from a visit with Sybil," Dumbledore stated.
Snape startled. What had that magnified-eyeballed-lady-with-death-proclamations-for-everyone say now?
"I take it what she said wasn't good?" Snape asked in his toneless voice. Dumbledore had long since discovered it was a defense mechanism.
"It concerns Voldemort and Harry. We must prepare, Severus. I fear if we cannot prevent this, the previous war will be no comparison," Dumbledore said.
- - -
The Next Day
Harry and Draco met up in the dungeons, wondering what Snape had for them this week. The previous lessons with the Potions master had been review, though they did learn new ways to use the spells they knew, and gaining experience in using them was always helpful.
The previous night, after dinner, they went to the Come and Go Room, quickly telling each other what they had been doing. Harry told them about Salandra and the Pact he had made with her, which was the reason why he was so tired (the others already having come to that conclusion during dinner).
Hermione, Crabbe, and Goyle told them what they had accomplished, having made them all mirrors, as well as the pair of mirrors Harry would use if Dumbledore agreed to meet that way. Crabbe and Goyle also happily told the others their apparent skills in runes, having come up with a few added precautions on the mirrors, such as shrinking them to more manageable size for travel, placing shatterproof charms on them, as well as some more secrecy spells, which would prevent magical manipulation from unfriendly sources.
Harry smirked, pleased with the two who he had thought, when he had first met them, were brainless. It was clear to him now, they just hadn't be applying themselves.
Ron then told them of his little chat with the Headmaster, as well as with Fawkes.
"A rising evil?" Hermione asked. "He didn't say anything else?"
"No, he said that was all he knew," Ron said.
"We'll just need to be more careful and watchful then," Neville said, the others nodding.
"Well, I think that's all for tonight then. Harry needs to get to sleep," Draco said, motioning to the barely coherent Harry.
Harry was definitely more rested now, after an undisrupted sleep, he felt great.
Stepping into the room Snape had made their 'classroom', Draco and Harry went and waited against the wall.
There were a few desks against the wall to their right, a table among them, a chalk board a dozen yards or so in front of them, and a standing wardrobe between them and the board.
Harry and Draco glanced at each other, both wondering why Snape had placed a wardrobe in the middle of the room. Had he redecorated his quarters and needed a place to store his extra furniture?
"Wands out!" Snape stated, the door slamming open as he stepped out, cape billowing.
Harry and Draco shot out their wands, ever pleased with their wand holsters that held their wands against their inner forearms, ready at a moment's notice.
"You may be wondering why this wardrobe is here and not in someone's quarters, well, that within—"
The Wardrobe suddenly shook, something within not happy.
"—you have studied, so should know how to get rid of it. If not, it should prove interesting, if not enlightening," he said, not jumping in the slightest as the wardrobe continued to rattle as he leaned against one of the desks against the wall.
Harry and Draco looked at each other, wondering what Snape had put inside that wardrobe that they had supposedly learned about.
"Prepare yourself," he stated, flicking his wand, the unlocking on wardrobe door.
Harry and Draco took a cautious step forward, Harry happening to take the bigger step.
A small pale hand appeared, gripping the edge of the door as the thing…no, person, stepped out.
Harry's blood ran cold, finding him face to face with Riddle's younger self before it got even worse.
As the young Tom Riddle took a step forward, he seemed to gain years with each passing second, morphing into his older, less than human, self.
Harry was unaware of the gasp from Draco, and unaware that his Potions Professor lost several shades of pigment.
"You have failed, Harry Potter. You have failed… you are alone… and I have no one else to kill, but you… There is no one else, because you have failed them…. Avada Ked—"
"Riddi—" Draco began, stepping forward, suddenly realizing what creature this was. But before he could complete saying the spell, Voldemort shifted into someone else…
A tired and worn Severus Snape stood, his blood splattered robes torn and frayed, stubble beginning to cover his face, his wand, held tightly in his hand, covered in nicks.
"Keeping this information to yourself has done more harm than good. If you had told us this in the beginning, everyone wouldn't have died! The Dark Lord has won! It is your fault everyone is dead, your secrets have killed them all. Godson," the fake Snape spat, "I regret having ever placed you under my care. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell us -------------------------------------,"
The rest of his statement was a series of hollowed out gurgles, which only led to high pitched ringing. The fake Snape's lips still moving, but no intelligible words were coming out… at least… from the real Snape's point of view…
"Riddikulus!" Snape shouted, slamming the boggart into the wardrobe and locking it within once more.
Harry and Draco were now breathing heavily, though as quietly as they could, not daring to look up at Snape, believing their secret had been discovered.
"This will be all for today. Draco, come with me, please," Snape stated after a very-very long pause in which no one had moved.
"Draco," Snape stated, though his voice was not angry, which only confused them more.
Draco slowly followed, glancing at Harry who was just as overwhelmed as him.
After a pause, Harry tried to form words, to stop them from going into the other room, to explain to Snape or to try, but the door to Snape's quarters had suddenly shut and had been warded. Harry was locked out.
- - -
Draco hesitantly followed Snape, his whole body numb.
"Sir, I—" Draco managed to choke out as Snape turned around suddenly.
"Have secrets to keep. I now see how strong the oath you gave to the Custosae is, Draco. Whatever that boggart said, all I heard was unintelligible garble. The oath you gave to the Custosae must have been very binding Draco, and for you to have been able to make it, you are clearly loyal to them. Listen to me very carefully; such loyalty can only be placed upon something worthy. Trust me, I know," Snape said, thinking about his loyalty to Dumbledore, to the Order, and now, it seemed, to his Godson.
"As for what that boggart said about regret. Never. I will never regret what I have done for you, Draco. I gave my word to your father, Draco, and, more importantly, I gave my word to you. Never question it again," Snape stated, his eyes alone proving his words.
Draco could barely contain the tears welling up in his eyes as Snape mercifully turned to retrieve something from his desk. Draco quickly banished his tears before Snape turned back around.
"Now Tavi, this is very important. Long Beard told me it is imperative this gets to the Head of the Custosae as soon as possible—as soon as possible, Draco. I don't know who you pass this to, but do it quickly. This letter may be the most important message that has ever been delivered," Snape said, seriousness solidifying in his eyes and voice.
"Yes, Dark Knight," Draco said, stunned, as he took the envelope. "I'll deliver it as soon as I can."
With a nod, Snape dismissed him, before taking a seat on his couch to calm his pounding heart before pondering over everything he had just seen in the other room, particularly the younger version of Tom Riddle. . . .
- - -
Draco stepped out of the room, still slightly in shock, but the envelope that was now in his vest pocket propelled him into action.
:Come on, we need to meet, now: Draco hissed, in case anyone they didn't know was around.
Harry nodded, quickly running with him to the others within the Come and Go Room.
- - -
Neville and the others were in the Come and Go Room, each of them doing something different.
Hermione was organizing the Custosae and Amici network, as well as organizing the 'secretive defensive club' that would be meeting the following day.
Crabbe and Goyle were pouring over magical books, fascinated by the idea of combining, creating, and changing all types of spells. They had already begun work on a ward/shield that would serve as a selective kind of Protego, only ten times better, though it was rather complicated.
Neville and Revlis were on the other side of the room, Revlis teaching Neville how to control the chameleon ability Neville had gained through the bond, though it was a little difficult to teach, since Neville still couldn't understand him all the time.
They had also just learned, Ron having returned from his room with a letter, that Peg, or rather Moody, had joined the Amici, no doubt having interrogated Iron Man and Long Beard (Kingsley and Dumbledore) before coming to that decision.
Draco and Harry entered, a little out of breath. Neville looked up, his body blending into the background in patches all over him. If Harry and Draco hadn't been so winded, they might have commented on it.
"Done with your lessons with Snape already?" Goyle asked.
"Did something happen?" Ron questioned.
"Are you two okay?" Hermione asked.
"Something did happen, but I think… we should open this letter first," Harry managed, slowing catching his breath.
"Long Beard got some information, Dark Knight was pretty serious about it," Draco said.
"Alright," Neville said, un-blending with his surroundings as they quickly gathered around the table and sitting, Harry taking the letter and opening it.
----
A/N: For the newly detailed network of the Custosae, Amici, and Allies, refer to my profile.
Next Part: Mirrors and Armies
