Do you think I am

Easier to be played on than a pipe? –Hamlet 3.2.369-370

"Congratulations, Harry. You've obviously lost your mind."

"I know, I know," the Parselmouth growled. "You don't have to keep reminding me."

"Sirius has a point," Neville volunteered. He shrank under the combined forces of Blaise and Daphne's glares but pressed on. "They need more information. It's not even a matter of trust; it's a matter of sense."

"Dumbledore keeps things to himself," Hermione mused, pressing a finger to her lips. Her tone was neutral; whether she approved or not, no one could tell.

"Dumbledore is a genius," Daphne pointed out. "I don't approve of his goals, but his strategies are unparalleled. In that, at least, we should follow his example."

"But he does it for a different reason." Hermione was thinking out loud, not really intending to sway the conversation one way or another but letting the others see how she formed her own conclusion. "If people knew what his real goals were and what he really was, no one would follow him except perhaps the Death Eaters. Maybe they wouldn't- we still don't know where he stands on the blood purity issue, just that he's a killer and a liar."

"But we do know where he stands," Blaise growled. "He made all those anti-Muggle-born laws, remember? Not to mention allowing all the other anti-creature legislation."

The Ravenclaw nodded. "But is that due to his own beliefs or his desire to create an underclass, any underclass, that could keep him in power? What I'm saying is that he needs secrecy. Without it, people will abandon him in hordes like Moony and Padfoot did. The question we should be asking ourselves is do we need secrecy as well? Because if we don't, there's really no reason to keep this from them."

She had a point, a very valid point. The others fell silent, thinking.

"We can't tell them that Harry and Neville aren't even teenagers yet," Daphne pointed out. "Especially since Remus is Harry's legal guardian."

"I never said we should," Hermione sighed, "but I see no reason to not tell them about the prophecies. What do you think, Saysa?"

The basilisk had been silent throughout their entire conversation, head tilted to the side, golden eyes closed. "Sirius and Tyr can hardly tell anyone our secrets," she murmured, "and I doubt that Remus would betray them." She nodded. "We should tell them the prophecies. Sirius is correct; they can become much more helpful if they know our motivations."

"Or will they?" wondered Blaise. "If they don't believe us, they'll think we're all barmy."

"We should show them in the Chamber," muttered Harry. "Show them the actual books and Saysa's true form."

Daphne folded her arms. "And what of our other secrets?"

"We've already let slip that Blaise is a Seer," Neville observed. "Our only other secret is how Harry has Voldemort's memories because of the Horcrux. And our ages, of course, but we all know we're not telling them about that."

"Nor will we tell them that I am a weather witch," Daphne proclaimed.

The three boys erupted into an uproar. Weather witches were incredibly rare; the last one had died over a hundred years ago. Despite their scarcity, though, weather witches were incredibly powerful, capable of summoning hurricanes in Alaska or bringing rain to the driest desert… or sending a bolt of lightning to destroy Lucius Malfoy's fireplace.

Only Saysa, who grew up in a time when weather witches were slightly more common, and Hermione, who had been researching that particular branch of magic for months, sat still not at all surprised. "Congratulations," the serpent-woman smiled. "Have you found a tutor yet?"

"There aren't any," Daphne explained dryly, enjoying her revenge against all the bombshells Harry and his other friends had dropped back in January, "which is doubtless why the boys are acting like fish out of water." She forced the amusement to the back of her mind. She would have time to gloat later; for now, she had more important business to attend to. "But we will not tell them. My abilities should remain as secret as our true ages."

"But what if they know something about weather magic?" worried Hermione.

The Slytherin girl frowned, thought. "We have access to the Black Library," she commented eventually, "and you have found some very good leads for my summer reading. If I cannot find anything before September, I will consider telling them."

"So we're agreed, then?" Harry asked, dragging them back on topic. "We'll tell them about the prophecies and the Horcrux memories?"

"You're telling them about the memories?" Neville parroted. "Harry, are you sure?"

The younger boy scowled. "I'd prefer not to, but there's really no other way to explain our Dark knowledge."

"You're sure?"

A muscle jumped in his jaw. "I'm sure, Nev."

It was a grim sextet that Portkeyed to Founder's Isle. One Animagus, two werewolves, and four house-elves waited for them in Tyr's cottage. Kreacher and Malfoy's old servants rose when Saysa entered. Harry raised a brow. House-elves hadn't sent any representatives to the Council of the Woods, but Dobby had called him "Master Speaker" several times. It might just be because he could talk to snakes and hadn't exactly hidden that fact, but Blaise had told the little elf that he was the Smoking Mirror, and the brownie seemed to have understood….

But then, it probably didn't matter that house-elves hadn't attended. Werewolves had, and look at how clueless Tyr and Remus were. Somewhere down the line, lycanthropes had lost all information about the Treaty of the Wood.

Tyr folded his arms. "How much are you going to tell us?"

Blunt and demanding, as always. Well, there was a reason he was alpha of the good werewolves. Harry lifted his head. "Has Sirius told you what I am?"

The lycanthrope shook his head. Padfoot shrugged apologetically and mumbled something about not knowing how to explain it.

Harry sighed. "In all honesty, I didn't expect you to." Inhale, exhale. Stay calm.

They all knew about Horcruxes, so he bit the bullet and announced, "Years ago, I was attacked by the so-called 'Lord Voldemort.' The aftermath of the attack turned me into a Horcrux. It remained embedded in my mind like a sleeper agent until about two years ago, when a shift in my consciousness broke it loose."

"From your tone, that doesn't mean it's gone," Tyr observed.

The Parselmouth smiled bitterly. "You're right. When the Horcrux shifted, it gave me all Voldemort's memories and knowledge."

The werewolves stiffened. Sirius hissed. The house-elves trembled like autumn leaves, Kreacher especially.

Harry pressed on. "I've been using this knowledge to track down the other Horcruxes and to try and find a cure for mine. We've destroyed four so far, but two remain: the one in my head and the one which possessed Lucius Malfoy and caused him to kidnap those girls last year."

"But what if he's made more since then?" Remus looked sick.

Now things got tricky. Harry knew that Voldemort hadn't, because he had become a disembodied spirit after the attack at the Potters'. However, he couldn't tell them that because they might put the pieces together and discover their true identities and ages. Merlin only knew what would happen if that got out, so he had to tread carefully. "The attack took place very near the end of the war. He wanted to make a sixth with the Potter twins' deaths, and he's been out-of-body since then. Unless he regains a body, he has no Horcruxes that I don't know about."

"And what if there are other people in your situation?" demanded Tyr. "Other survivors with bits of the Dark Lord's soul? There could be dozens, hundreds of people keeping him alive."

The color drained from Remus's face. "Sweet Merlin," he breathed, "Harry." He jerked to his feet. "I need to get to Hogwarts. Harry and Mark might be infected."

Blaise grabbed him before he could get anywhere. "Calm down. Pollux is the only one with a soul fragment. The other survivors are fine."

The werewolf's eyes were wild. "How would you know? Pollux admitted that he doesn't know what happened at Lily and James's house that night. No one does. All anyone knows is that some heavy-duty magic took place there. If there was enough power to kill Voldemort, there might have been enough to make two new Horcruxes."

"If either boy has a Horcrux, it would be the Boy-Who-Lived," Daphne commented, folding her hands together. "Pallas, can you get close enough to Mark Potter to inspect him with the serpent sight?"

"With the what?" echoed Sirius.

The Slytherin girl waved negligently, momentarily forgetting that Hermione shouldn't dabble any more in the serpent sight until they knew more about it. "A spell she invented. If Mark Potter is a Horcrux, Pallas will know."

It was a brilliant example of Greengrass training: everything she said would hold up under Veritaserum, but it led those not in the know to an erroneous conclusion. Hermione was smiling as she announced that yes, she could check.

Harry, though, was not smiling. He'd never thought that his brother might be equally affected. What if Mark was a Horcrux? Bad enough that he, Harry, was tainted; if a piece of that madman's fractured soul was feeding off his twin….

"Your brother is fine." Saysa's words were quiet, so soft that non-Parseltongues wouldn't even have heard her hissing. "The Sorting Hat doubtless knew what you were on the day it awakened his memories. I've no doubt that it checked Mark over as well. You spoke with it just last year, and it said nothing about your brother."

"It didn't say I was a Horcrux, either," the wizard muttered back.

Saysa bowed her head slightly, acknowledging his point. "Still, I doubt that he has been contaminated. Either way, Hermione will soon know for certain. Until then, there is nothing you can do."

Little as he liked it, the basilisk was right. He couldn't do anything until he knew if Mark was a Horcrux. Even then, he admitted bitterly, he couldn't help. He couldn't destroy the soul fragment in his own head; how then could he save Mark?

He returned his attention to the conversation. Remus had apparently forced Hermione to swear that she would inspect the younger twin and be completely truthful about his condition. The witch was nodding away, probably quite grateful that she wasn't obligated to do the same with Harry.

The second she was done, Remus turned to his disguised godson. "Sorry," he mumbled, "it's just that I'm worried about them, Harry especially." He hesitated, and then added, "And I am truly sorry for what you've had to endure."

It was still a novelty, having an adult concerned for his welfare. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Remus."

"My condolences as well," Sirius said, "and my apologies for not giving them earlier." He blushed. "I was in shock."

Tyr nodded. "And mine. I don't know much about Horcruxes, but they can't be pleasant to live with."

"Dobby is also being very sorry," the house-elf squeaked. His fellow elves shot him an admonishing glare. Their kind weren't supposed to speak at human meetings. Of course, they weren't supposed to be invited as anything but servants, either, and they'd already breached that little bit of protocol, so he probably felt that another toe out line couldn't hurt.

"Thank you all." It took every ounce of control to keep his voice steady. He was not going to cry. He refused to cry. So what if they had accepted him unconditionally instead of cringing away, faces dark with loathing? Even Dobby, shy nervous Dobby, was offering support and acceptance. "However, my unpleasant problem isn't why we are fighting against Dumbledore. Saysa, will you explain?"

The serpent-woman nodded. "You know, of course, that I am not human." She fixed her golden gaze on the four house-elves, most of who were still glaring at Dobby. "Do you know who I am?"

They cringed back, not used to the attention of so many humans and almost-humans. Finally Flapsy squeaked, "You is being the Lady of the Chamber. You is the Guardian."

She nodded, every inch the Queen of Serpents despite her changed form. "What else do you know about me?" she continued gently.

But Flapsy had used up all her nerve. Quaking, she flinched back. Her mouth opened several times, but nothing came out but air.

"Don't answer if you don't want to," the serpent-woman ordered.

"Flapsy is sorry, Great Lady." Tears filled her oversized eyes. "Flapsy has only heard stories. Flapsy's mummy's stories say that you was at the Treaty of the Wood, and that you was born to guard the hope of the world."

"Your mother was right." Saysa smiled. "I was at the signing of the Treaty, but I do not exactly guard the hope of the world. I simply guard the knowledge of it, the prophecies that guide our actions. Many races know this, and they too have sworn to watch and wait."

"Can you say that again in English?" Sirius asked.

She laughed softly. "Did I lapse into Gaelic without realizing it? Very well, Sirius, I will attempt to explain this in ways you can understand."

She started out with the prophecies themselves, with the Spider and Viper and Lightning Speaker. She placed special emphasis on the cycle relating to lycanthropy and the chalice, and to the few mentions of the Dog. Even Dudley was mentioned once or twice, she told them.

Tyr's face was hard. "You believe that Albus Dumbledore is the fulfillment of some evil prophecy of doom?" He did not sound convinced.

Saysa's lips curled. "Do not worry, Master Ulfhednar. You will soon see the proof you require." She turned to the prophesied five. "We should leave now."

"Where to?" demanded Remus. It was obvious to all involved that he'd only been listening with half an ear. The poor werewolf was worried to death about his godson.

An ugly thought occurred to Tyr. His eyes narrowed to gray slits. "If you've been getting all this information from prophecies, you have no idea what the cure looks like. You only think that it's a silver goblet."

Blaise frowned. "No. I saw the chalice in my dream. Our description is accurate."

"Not unless your dream is accurate," the werewolf growled. "If you've been hearing about some silver cup that's supposed to cure lycanthropy, what do you think you're going to dream about? A silver cup that's supposed to cure lycanthropy."

The Seer's jaw tightened. "Are you suggesting that predictions and visions are all fake?"

Neville butted in, nervous about interrupting but more nervous about a fight breaking out. "Lots of wizards are skeptical about Divination, Apollo. It's a famously… difficult branch of magic. Master Ulfhednar, could you wait until you've seen our proof before making judgment? Thank you."

For a long moment those fierce gray eyes bored into his. Sweat beaded on the Gryffindor's brow. He fought back a gulp- Tyr hadn't become the alpha of Great Britain without perfecting his glare of intimidation. Then he turned to Saysa. "Show us."

She inclined her head. "Very well. Will you come with us to my home?"

"If that's where the 'proof' is, then yes."

The humans and basilisk arrived in the Chamber of Secrets a few seconds later. Kreacher followed, using his link to Sirius to find his way. The other house-elves came after him.

Those who hadn't seen the Chamber before gazed around in awe. It was not delicate or elegant; some would call its serpent-carved carved pillars simplistic or crude. Those twining snakes with their glittering emerald eyes, the small shoot of Angel's Net, and the brilliant golden staircase were the only adornments in sight. Yet despite the lack of subtleties, the room was filled with the majesty, wisdom, and strength that only appeared in the most ancient and powerful shrines.

"This is your home?" Remus breathed, taking in the jeweled carvings and narrow descent. He wasn't surprised by its strange appearance. Somehow, this strange, secret place fit Saysa like a glove. It was as much a part of her as her green garments.

"It is indeed. The Chamber of Secrets has been my home for the past one thousand and seventeen years."

Before the werewolf could protest her ridiculous statement- he knew that she wasn't human, but what manner of being could survive that long and still remain young, not to mention the part about this being Slytherin's legendary creation- when she closed her eyes and melted. Bones blurred, rearranged, expanded. Her skin turned green- or perhaps her green clothing swallowed her skin- and became rough, dividing into scales. Her arms shrunk, vanishing into her thickening sides. Her legs fused together into a powerful tail. Her hair slithered back into her head, leaving a bald serpentine scalp.

Remus gawked. Breath whooshed from his lungs. He tried to speak, but words wouldn't form. He tried to breathe, but his diaphragm refused to cooperate.

Sirius jerked back, tripping over Alexander. The two men tumbled to the floor. Tyr crouched to help them up, his eyes never leaving Saysa's new, monstrous visage.

No, not monstrous: powerful, even beautiful in an alien way.

"What the bloody-" choked Sirius. "Animagi can't become magical creatures. I would know!"

"Saysa isn't an Animagus," Pallas explained, smiling fondly at the immense serpent. "She is a basilisk, hatched from an egg that was incubated by a toad. Salazar Slytherin and the other Founders, Seers all, arranged her birth so that she might guard the prophecies of the Lightning Speaker and guide him when he came." Her lips curled in a slightly wicked smile. "Believe us now, Master Ulfhednar?"

He did not. "Alright, now the prophecies were given by a group of schoolmasters to a giant snake over a thousand years ago. Should I believe you?"

"…It would certainly make things a great deal easier if you did."

Pollux waved his wand at the staircase. Books soared through the air into his waiting hands. "The prophecies," he explained unnecessarily. "Think about it, Tyr. Why would we lie? We have no reason to."

The alpha's brow furrowed. His mind worked swiftly, trying to divine some kind of motivation. He knew they were all quite sane (though some would say otherwise, given their goals) and that they needed some explanation as to why and how Saysa had pulled off her impossible transformation, but couldn't find any less improbable scenarios. That was saying something, but it was far too true. Without Saysa's change, he might have believed that they had Muggle or creature friends who were disadvantaged by the Spider's schemes. Yet why would a shape-shifting snake emerge from its ancient hiding place just for that?

Besides, as Pollux had said, they had no reason to make up this wild tale, one they knew was improbable and potentially a sign of madness. And what harm could come of giving them the benefit of the doubt? He still didn't entirely believe them, but he had to admit that it made sense- in a strange, convoluted way.

The werewolf shrugged. "I'll reserve judgment."

Saysa flowed back into her human form. "Very well then, Master Ulfhednar. Soon you will have all the proof you need and more."