Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Any original plots, ideas, and characters are mine.
AN:
Sorry for the delay! I hope you enjoy this chappie. I'll be posting the next one in a week at most, hopefully ^.^
Part I: Chapter 57
What is troubling you, boy?
Harry attempted to ignore the Grey Lady's voice in his mind. It was a Sunday afternoon and he was sprawled on a patch of snow by the bank of the Black Lake, using his school robes as a mantle, after having spent several hours swimming in its chilly depths wrapped in a Warming Charm.
Ever since returning to school, he had found the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw in a bad mood. At first looking forlorn and dejected, as if their months of separation had greatly affected her, then to be as short-tempered and unstable as in the day he had met her for the first time.
Only after several 'Possession Days' of doing what she had enjoyed the most when alive, did she seem to acquire a better disposition.
"You already know what," grunted Harry, closing his eyes as he let the wintry sunrays dry the drops of water on his chest.
Early in the morning he had already paid Nagini a visit in the Forbidden Forest, finding her as thin as ever though grown in length, now nearly as long as his outstretched arms. And seemingly having had a blast during the holidays, with her nest of worshipful male snakes that shared their home with her in that scorched clearing in which Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin had dueled, according to Helena.
Nagini had barely paid him any mind, at that, solely demanding to know when Tom would deign to visit her.
I have already told you, said Helena Ravenclaw's voice testily, that I do not know how you can make Santi appear before you.
Harry cracked his eyes open, his scowl deepening when he glimpsed several dark clouds gathering in the sky - it would be hailing heavily soon.
Although it was not only the weather that made him grumpy, but the urgent need to see Santi once and for all.
Harry had begun suspecting that perhaps Santi had an inkling that he had had that 'vision' dream thing – because Harry certainly had a lot of questions to demand answers for, and Santi had yet to show himself.
Yuletide is approaching, said the Grey Lady's voice, sounding so taciturn that it instantly made Harry narrow his eyes in suspicion.
"It's in a week," he said pointedly, before he grinned triumphantly. "And then, according to our deal, you'll have to keep your end of the bargain."
I will tell you about myself – in full, she said tartly, as long as you provide me with one last experience.
"Alright," Harry said carefully, as he sat up. "What do you want?"
The terms of our deal includes the night of Yuletide, she remarked sharply, if you'll remember.
As he pulled his arms into his robes' sleeves, Harry cocked his head to a side. "You want to possess me during the Yule Ball, is that it?"
Precisely, said the Grey Lady's voice with much satisfaction, before her tone became filled with desperate longing. I wish to dance, to feel arms around my waist as I'm swept on my feet, to feel the warmth of another human being, the caress of a lover on my cheeks-
"A lover?" Harry choked in alarm, before he vehemently shook his head. "Look here, I don't have-"
I already know that you do not have any lovers, child, snapped her voice impatiently. But you will have a partner for the Yule Ball, I assume?
"Yeah," exhaled Harry, relaxing as he stood on his feet, flicking his wand and casting a charm to thoroughly dry his undergarments as he then proceeded to yank his trousers up his legs.
"I'm asking Felicity Prewett to go with me," he added proudly as he finally pulled his school robes tightly around himself.
Something he planned on doing that very same day. He had already heard that she had turned down many boys that had asked her weeks in advance – she had become quite popular from what he could see. And he had begun to suspect that the many times she blushed when in his presence could mean that she did fancy him to some degree.
The dawning realization had surprised him at first, but then thoroughly pleased him. He liked her. She was fun, mischievous, and clever - sometimes too nosy and nagging, but always when she was worried about him in some way.
And he liked her hair, too. Red hair seemed to have always held some sort of strange fascination over him and he was prepared to explore it fully, at that.
Everyone else already had their dates for the Ball. Tom was unsurprisingly going with Olive Hornby –fact that Harry always pushed away from his mind- and Alphard was escorting pretty Lucretia, more as a bodyguard for his cousin to make sure that no 'unworthy' boys would dare ask her for a dance.
That will not do, said the Grey Lady flatly.
"Hmm?" said Harry distractedly as he finally draped his Slytherin scarf around his neck, up to his ears.
Do you think I'm interested in dancing with a girl? the Grey Lady snapped tempestuously. I want a man! To experience a man's touch, a man's caress, a man's love-
"A man?" Harry croaked, going as white as snow, before he boomed outraged, "I'm not snogging a professor! I'm not doing anything with any men! I will not-"
I am not asking you to 'snog', Helena Ravenclaw's voice interrupted harshly, a professor. Merely dancing will do – with an older boy, if you wish. I can grant you that much. I do seem to recall a very handsome one who is quite to my taste, whom I have seen around in my House. Marcus MacDougal, I believe his name is.
"MacDougal?" strangled out Harry, paling further. "The Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain?"
That's the one, said the Grey Lady contently.
"He's a boy!" thundered Harry in the next second, as he finally gathered back his wits.
And? she demanded mildly, before releasing an aggrieved sound. I do sometimes forget that you are muggle-raised. She sighed deeply as she added in very slow, condescending, and lecturing voice, In the wizarding world-
"I already know," snarled Harry like a wild beast, instantly bristling at her tone and the very subject under discussion, "that things are different here! It's not about that – I'm not asking a boy to be my date for the Yule Ball, and that's that!"
What was with everyone telling him he should be pairing up with boys, he would like to know! First Malfoy, then his own traitorous thoughts, and now a bloody ghost, to boot!
"I'm going with Felicity!" he spat as he quickly sped towards Hogwarts - the sooner he got inside, the sooner the Grey Lady would have to shut up about it.
If you refuse to please me in this, she said warningly, her voice as hard and grave as grinding stones, our deal is over.
"I've done everything you've asked of me," hissed out Harry, so furious he could barely think straight. "You owe me!"
I owe you nothing! she spat irately. The information I posses is invaluable, what you've done for me is merely a trifle in comparison! I will tell you nothing unless you grant me this last favor.
Seething and utterly incensed, Harry lowered his voice to a mere whisper as he finally sped past Hogwarts' entrance doors, gritting out through clenched teeth, "Then let's see who'll help you. I haven't forgotten. Santi said you needed me. You yourself called me 'your savior'."
I've waited for a thousand years, said the Grey Lady testily. I can wait for a thousand more.
"You do that!" snapped Harry viciously. He would not yield to the blackmail and demented demands of a bloody ghost. She could rot in her accursed existence, for all he cared now.
"Harry!"
Harry nearly jumped in the air in mid mad dash through the corridors of Hogwarts when a girl pounced on him.
"Gulping gargoyles, Myrtle, you scared me!" Harry panted out, clutching his pounding chest and staring at the girl who had seemingly been hiding in a shadowy nook.
Myrtle Mimbletinon tittered as she sidled up to him.
"Sorry," the girl then said not looking at all apologetic, her bespectacled gaze glimmering in a ominous way as she suddenly grabbed his arm.
Get rid of her, said the Grey Lady's voice sharply. You and I have much to discuss-
Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance.
"Let's get in here – it looks nice…" said Myrtle as she swiftly opened a door and shoved Harry inside.
"Er- Myrtle," said Harry bemusedly as he glanced at their small, narrow, and cramped surroundings. "We're in a broom closet-"
"Snug and cozy, isn't it?" Myrtle simpered as she instantly wrapped herself around Harry's arm, peering up at him with wide eyes.
Harry shot her a frown, feeling uncomfortable and awkward in the reduced space as the girl kept pressing herself against him. "Um, Myrtle, what do you want?"
"To express my gratitude," said Myrtle tittering sharply, as she wriggled closer to him. Laying her head on his shoulder, she peered up at him, letting out a fluttery, worshipful sigh. "Oh, Harry, you saved me! From all those nasty bombs in London - you were so brave and heroic-"
"It's fine, Myrtle," interrupted Harry quickly, trying to flatten himself against the shelves at his back to keep distance. "It was nothing. Now, if you don't mind-"
I do not like this, remarked Helena Ravenclaw waspishly. I demand that you take us out of here and-
"Shut up!" snapped Harry ill-temperedly, as he distractedly tried to disentangle himself from the girl and her groping hands.
"SHUT UP?" shrieked Myrtle in a strident high-pitch, her pimpled and plain face souring with an angered look, her bespectacled eyes flashing.
She immediately released him, glaring, as she spat furiously, "Because Moaning Myrtle has no feelings, right! Because Moaning Myrtle is stupid and never has anything smart to say! Because Moaning Myrtle-"
"No!" said Harry immediately. "I didn't mean-"
"I was going to do this nicely," bit out Myrtle, glowering at him. "But you leave me no other choice." The grin she shot him was nasty, her eyes sparkling triumphantly. "I know what I saw, and I will tell everyone if you don't do what I say. I'll go to the Headmaster!"
What have you done to this girl? said the Grey Lady, sounding curious and vaguely amused.
Harry shook his head, gritting his teeth, and letting out a breath of exasperation as he finally stared back at Myrtle, frowning. "What are you talking about?"
"I looked into it!" declared Myrtle, her bespectacled eyes gleaming. "That pendant that your mean brother was wearing – that symbol! I know what it is, now." She grinned sharply at him, as she whispered, "Your brother is a dark wizard. And he supports that evil man everyone's talking about!"
Indeed? muttered the voice in his head, sounding both appalled and morbidly interested.
Harry paled dramatically, staring at the girl, speechless. He sometimes forgot that Myrtle was a Ravenclaw. He hadn't expected for Myrtle to pursue and research the matter. Not that the ghost's voice constantly yapping in his mind was helping any – he even felt a looming migraine as he attempted to think straight.
Oh, is she in my House? the Grey Lady intoned, sounding half bemused and incredulous as if coolly assessing the girl through his eyes, no doubt taking notice of her uniform. Though she doesn't seem particularly bright to me-
"Look, Myrtle," said Harry hurriedly as he gathered back his wits, trying his best to utterly ignore the pesky voice in his head. "I can explain! It's not what you think. Tom isn't dark-"
"If you don't want me to tell anyone," interjected Myrtle, apparently not at all fazed by her discovery, or scared, but with a rather sly gleam in her black eyes, "you'll take me to the Yule Ball."
It took Harry a moment to grasp the meaning of her words, just as Helena Ravenclaw's voice began spitting and hissing in his head like an over-boiling kettle.
This will not do – not at all!
"To the Ball?" Harry echoed, flabbergasted.
"Yes," snapped Myrtle impatiently, before she shot him a thin-lipped smile. "I know you haven't asked anyone yet-"
You'd better not yield to this most ignominious extortion!
"Actually," gritted out Harry with immense exasperation, "I was on my way to Gryffindor Tower to-"
"You will take me," interrupted Myrtle sharply, narrowing her bespectacled gaze at him, "or I will tell about your brother-"
I will not spend the Ball dancing with this slip of a girl! I absolutely refuse-
"-and you'll both be in so much trouble!" continued Myrtle, chuckling vindictively under her breath.
"I thought you were grateful to me!" bit out Harry angrily, glaring at her. "Because I helped you in London-"
- to be saddled with dancing with a little girl!
"Oh, but I am, Harry," said Myrtle in a buttery tone of voice, shimmying up to him and trailing a hand over his arm, giggling and fluttering her eyelashes, though her expression wasn't one of foolish adoration but cold calculation. "That's why I'm willing to keep my silence, in exchange for my dues-"
…I want to feel a MAN's arms around my body, a MAN's touch and warmth-
"-that will show Olive Hornby!" spat Myrtle, her face contorting with rage. "That nasty hag, going around mocking me, saying that I can't get a boy to ask me to the Ball-"
- if you want the information I possess, you will do as I asked! You should not heed this girl's-
"- but this will show her! I'll go with you and she'll have to eat her words-"
…hence, you better get your priorities straight, boy, because I'm not willing to subject myself to-
"-and everyone will see me coming into the Great Hall, with you as my escort and date-"
"Alright, ALRIGHT!" boomed Harry at the top of his lungs, nearly tearing out his hair at the dual rants, his head and eardrums throbbing.
"Agreed, then! Pick me up at six o'clock!"
"No, Myrtle, I didn't mean-" Harry began in a flustered panic, just for the door of the broom closet to be slammed on his face as the girl rushed away triumphantly.
Well! You've made your choice! spat the Grey Lady's voice enraged.
"No! Wait, I-"
Harry nearly keeled over as his body suddenly arched, the ghost instantly flowing out of him, leaving him weak-kneed and exhausted. He saw her materializing before him just for her to sweep away and sink into one of the walls.
"Wait!" he bellowed frantically, but it was a moot point. Both had left him behind, alone in the cramped broom closet, dismayed and stunned.
Harry groaned as he finally recovered his bearings, wearily rubbing his face.
"Ravenclaws," he groused under his breath – and ones that should have been sorted in Slytherin House instead, in his view, if it weren't for the fact that Myrtle was a muggleborn and the Grey Lady the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw herself.
He scowled darkly as he finally made his way back to his dorm, rather than to Gryffindor Tower as previously planned.
Girls, in all shapes and forms, were really a lot of trouble.
A week later, Harry was inspecting himself in the full-body mirror in his dorm's bathroom.
"Will you finally tell me who are you going with?" Alphard pressed, eyeing him with curiosity, perched by the sinks as Harry finished grooming himself.
He was half-way decent, Harry surmised as he glanced at his reflection once more, donned in one of the formal dress robes that the Von Krauss tailor had made for them, of a deep dark green with silver-thread trimmings. And of course that Tom had insisted they should wear them, for the Slytherin colors they displayed, and what it represented – the message to their housemates more than clear.
"You're fighting a lost battle there," observed the face of the enchanted mirror, guffawing once more at Harry's attempts to make his hair lie flat.
Harry shot it a dour look before he gave up and glanced at his friend.
Alphard was already set to go, the two of them the last in the dormitory as everyone else had left to get their dates for the Yule Ball. Even down there in the dungeons, they could hear the muffled sounds of excited, festive voices and the dim string of music coming from the Great Hall in the floor above.
"Well?"
Harry sighed as he turned around to face Alphard, mumbling under his breath, "I'm going with Myrtle."
For a week he had managed to dodge questions about 'his mysterious date', despite Alphard and Tom's efforts to get him to spill the beans. Tom, certainly, because he wanted to make sure that Harry would be going with someone 'worthy', that would make them both look good, and Alphard because the boy seemed to be inordinately interested in the subject of whom Harry had chosen, more curious and persistent than ever, for some reason.
Of course, Harry had not wanted to say because he knew what the reaction would be. Even more so in Tom's case. He didn't want his brother to know just how Myrtle had managed to make him go with her. He didn't doubt that Tom would be prepared to take drastic measures to ensure that the girl kept her discoveries to herself.
Not that the past week had been a walk on the park. He had been subjected to Felicity Prewett's glances, at first hopeful, then puzzled or impatient, and finally looking hurt and vastly disappointed, making him feel rotten. He had even had to endure the day in which Algie Longbottom had asked the girl to the Ball for the umpteenth time, just for him to beam and gloat when Felicity had finally reluctantly accepted, filling Harry with bitterness.
Alphard blinked at him. "Who?"
"Myrtle Mimbletinon," Harry clarified curtly.
Alphard shot him a confounded look. "Um… who?"
"Moaning Myrtle!" snapped Harry impatiently.
Alphard gawked at him, staring with round, grey eyes. "What? Why?"
"What do you mean – why?" retorted Harry truculently, scowling darkly.
Alphard moved his mouth, looking like a stranded fish, before he apparently managed to find his voice as he cast him a confused glance. "It's just that you could have gotten any girl in our year to go with you –" He instantly rose a hand at Harry's disbelieving and doubtful snort, rolling his grey eyes. "I know you don't believe it, but it's the truth." He dropped his hand and shot him a discombobulated look. "So why did you ask her?"
"Because Myrtle is… nice," grumbled Harry, as he finally strode back into their room.
"Nice?" he heard Alphard's voice saying, sounding mystified, as the boy trailed after him. "Are we talking about the same girl here?"
Harry swirled around to glare at him, wholly ignoring the quip, as he said testily, "Isn't your cousin Lucretia waiting for you in the common room?"
"Yes," said Alphard slowly, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, before he gave him a weak smile. "Right. See you at the dance!"
The boy instantly turned tail and ran away, surely cottoning on the fact that Harry was in a very short-fused, foul mood.
Ignoring all lingering students, Harry finally made his way to the Astronomy Tower, attempting to smooth his grumpy, sullen expression into one of thrilled happiness.
The previous day, Myrtle had been most adamant that it was his duty to convincingly play the part of a besotted 'suitor', that he had to show her a good time, and most importantly, treat her with utmost gallantry and flattery before her housemates.
The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous, and he still had to find a way to mend matters with the Grey Lady, who had shone for her absence the last few days.
Finally on the fifth floor, Harry took a spiral staircase hidden in a cranny, by the end of it at last standing before a door without a doorknob or keyhole, but a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle, which sparkled in a lattice of blue and coppery light before his eyes – it was one of The Three Musketeers' latest discoveries, as he, Alphard, and Ulysses had found the entrance to the Ravenclaws' common room during their exploration of the fifth floor in search for an entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.
He could hear merry voices coming from the other side of the door, and he stared at the eagle knocker uncertainly.
Just when he was about to take a hold of it, the beak of the figure opened, letting out a deep, grave voice, "What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"
"What?" said Harry disconcerted, staring at the knocker, before he scowled. "Look, I just want to go inside-"
"Answer the riddle correctly and you will," intoned the bronze eagle sternly.
Harry sighed, impatiently carding a hand through his messy hair. "Fine. Can you say it again, then?"
"What can run but never walks," repeated the metal figure in bored monotone, "has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"
Harry scratched his head, tilting it to a side. "Um… a river?"
"Correct," said the eagle knocker curtly, before the door parted open.
Harry had barely taken a step inside, taking notice of the wide, circular room with a midnight blue carpet, furnished with countless bookcases, a marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, a domed ceiling painted with stars, and large, arched windows partly draped with blue and bronze silks, displaying lovely views of the school grounds, the greenhouses, and the lake, when he nearly stumbled with a couple on its way to the door.
He stared at his brother, who struck quite a figure with the Slytherin dress robes on his tall frame and his perfectly groomed waves of dark hair, only taking notice of Olive Hornby dangling by Tom's arm, looking very pretty and smug, when he felt her heated gaze on him.
"Harry." Tom halted in his tracks, staring back with narrowing eyes. "Whom are you here for?"
"Um… well…" Harry began hesitantly, glancing away as he shifted on his feet.
"He's here for me!"
Harry didn't know whether to feel relieved or not when Myrtle suddenly elbowed her way through the crowd of people – Olive Hornby's flock of girl friends with their respective partners.
Nevertheless, he did stare at the sight of her, surprised.
"You look nice," he said awestruck, both playing his part and being sincere, for he had never seen Myrtle like that before.
She had evidently made an effort, though he knew it wasn't truly for his benefit. Her plain face was unblemished, her eyeglasses gone, her hair picked up in what looked like a complicated hairdo, and she was wearing a very pretty, light blue muggle dress, silky and posh.
"You are Myrtle's date?"
Harry glanced at Olive Hornby, who was gaping incredulously, her eyes darting between them.
"I told you a boy had asked me!" crowed Myrtle triumphantly, instantly latching herself to Harry's arm as she shot Olive and her friends a dirty look. "Harry is taking me to the Ball because we are dating!"
"Dating!" Olive Hornby exploded into a loud guffaw, her friends sniggering at her back.
"Indeed?" murmured Tom quietly.
At that, Harry shot him another quick glance, because it wasn't anger what he had detected but rather a suspicious tone in his brother's voice.
"We are," said Harry instantly, not liking the turn of events, yet trepidation filling him at his brother's reaction, for Myrtle's own sake even if he wasn't particularly fond of the girl after what she had pulled.
"What have you bribed him with, Myrtle!" jibed Olive Hornby nastily, still guffawing, accompanied by the chorus of mocking sniggers and chuckles of her friends.
"I haven't bribed him with anything!" shrieked Myrtle in an earsplitting high-pitch, stiffening by Harry's side as he felt her fingernails sinking into his forearm.
"She didn't," said Harry hurriedly as he saw Tom's eyes narrowing further. "We are seeing each other-"
"Then," interrupted Olive, smiling sharply, "you should at least see what you'll be dancing with."
In a split second, the girl whipped out her wand, muttering under her breath, her eyes gleaming as a beam shot towards Myrtle.
It all happened so fast that none had a chance to react, cruel and mocking laughter erupting a moment later, just when Harry blinked and managed to catch a glimpse of Myrtle. Myrtle who suddenly had her thick, large eyeglasses on her face, whose hair abruptly looked like limp weeds, whose face filled with popping pimples and zits, whose nice dress no longer looked new and glossy but ragged, patched, and haphazardly sown together.
Myrtle let out a strident wail of utter horror and mortification, instantly fleeing through the door.
"Bloody hell!" snapped Harry angrily, rounding on Olive Hornby. "Was that necessary!"
Olive stiffened, as she bit out mordantly, "She deserved it! She was using spells and glamours-"
"So what!" spat Harry hotly, glaring at her.
"She's always giving herself airs," retorted Olive harshly, glowering back. "Trying to convince us all that she's oh so very rich and that her father is some sort of muggle bank manager and-"
"She wasn't lying-" Harry began before he clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth as he realized it was pointless.
Olive Hornby was a pureblood, little could she know that even if Myrtle came from a well-to-do family, the muggles had to have been enduring living in a London constantly under assault with The Blitz and the rationing of food and the scarcity of clothes. And whether Hornby's bullying cruelty was born from ignorance or not, he nonetheless knew that Myrtle was no meek, innocent victim either.
Thus he merely glared at them, even at Tom, the prat, who was looking darkly amused himself, before he turned heel and chased after Myrtle.
"Going after your run-away 'date'? Leave her!"
"You'd best try in her loo! She always goes there!"
The taunts and other jibes soon faded away as Harry kept running down the spiraling staircase, into a corridor, around a corner, as he caught glimpses of Myrtle, far ahead, bowling over couples leisurely making their way towards the ground floor and the Great Hall.
It was more the sound of her sobs and wails that allowed him to follow her than anything else, as he jumped unto a moving staircase, panting as he tried to catch up, suddenly realizing that for some reason they had entered the second floor of the castle.
Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming shut and being locked, made him realize just where Myrtle had gone into.
A moment later, he halted before the door of a girls' lavatory, hearing Myrtle's distraught moans, sobs, and wails from within.
Harry tentatively knocked. "Myrtle, it's me-"
"Go away!" she shrieked.
Harry sighed. "Don't be silly. We're going to miss the Ball-"
"I don't care!" she wailed at the top her lungs. "You just want to make fun of me, like all the rest!"
"I don't," snapped Harry in exasperation. "I don't care about your dress, your hair, or your face. Open up!"
"NO!"
Half an hour later, he was seated on the floor, still outside as he cursed his bad luck under his breath, and sulked.
Myrtle hadn't yet come out, no matter the many arguments and persuasions he had tried to employ. All the while not ceasing her wails, moans, and lamentations, as he heard the muffled sounds of the Headmaster giving a speech to commence the Yule Ball, as the distant clattering of goblets and plates of the feast, and then songs and dancing tunes, reached his ears from the ground floor.
"Are we going to spend the whole Yule Ball like this?" he finally yelled peevishly at the door.
"Leave me alone!"
Harry scowled, having had enough, and swiftly rose to his feet, plucking his wand from a pocket.
"Alohomora!"
The door clicked open as soon as he cast the charm, and he grumpily stepped into the lavatory, not caring if anyone saw him sneaking into a girls' loo, of all places.
"Look, Myrtle," he said testily, before he froze in his tracks, mouth hanging open, dumbstruck.
It wasn't the sight of Myrtle sprawled on the floor of a stall, hugging a toilet, looking disconsolate, which filled him with such astonishment that he could have been knocked over with a feather.
"Harry?" Myrtle wailed despondently as her face surfaced from her arms. Though all choked sobs and piteous moans suddenly halted as she glared at him when realizing he wasn't paying her the least bit of attention. "Harry!"
However, her voice sounded as if coming from far away, as Harry kept staring, speechless, at the sinks in the middle of the bathroom. Sinks that were glimmering in Slytherin's colors before his eyes – Slytherin's magic, glowing, in a girls' loo!
Harry laughed. He laughed so hard, so triumphantly, so gloriously and joyfully, that he clutched his ribs, and kept laughing.
"Brilliant!" he breathed out in between chortles, because it was just that. Because there could have been no other place so ridiculous, undignified, and inglorious, for the entrance of the great Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets but a girls' loo, and precisely due to that, so thoroughly unsuspected, inconspicuous, and perfect – for he had no doubt at all that it had to be the entrance, the very same one he had been looking for during the past three years.
"HARRY!" shrieked Myrtle angrily a second later when he immediately turned heel and ran out of the bathroom.
The Yule Ball was in full swing, Harry noticed as he made his way through the Great Hall will all the cool composure he could muster, no matter if his heart was giddily thundering in his chest with excitement.
The dance floor was packed with swirling couples, under the enchanted, high-arched ceilings showing the moon, twinkling stars, and drifting snowfall, candy canes and wreaths of garlands and holly floating all about, with twelve enormous Christmas trees beautifully decorated, buzzing with glowing fairies, where the Staff's Table usually stood, banners of all Houses floating intermingled in the air, in a festive representation of imaginary house unity, added to the countless round tables surrounding the dance floor, with the remains of what had surely been a plentiful and delicious feast.
Harry caught sight of the only Slytherin sitting at a table, and made a beeline for him.
He had already known, after all, that most Slytherins had stayed behind to spend Yuletide at Hogwarts –forgoing to participate, as they had always done before, in the purebloods' so-called 'Winter Season' with their families. And he knew that it was because of him and Tom, since surely Pollux Black had not been the only parent to tell his children to keep an eye on Konrad Von Krauss' wards and report back whatever information they gleaned.
Abraxas Malfoy arched an eyebrow at him as Harry plopped himself down on a chair, his green gaze immediately flickering through the dancing crowd. He caught sight of Alphard giving Lucretia Black a twirl, and further ahead, Tom with Olive Hornby.
Harry nibbled on his bottom lip musingly, yet he knew he couldn't let the opportunity pass, not when all the professors and students were so advantageously distracted by the Yule Ball, not when his own excitement made him so impatient.
"You are quite late, Riddle," drawled Abraxas crisply. "It is most uncivil and uncouth to-"
"Malfoy," Harry breathed out, blinking at him, as if seeing him in a brand new light of spanning possibilities.
Abraxas frowned as Harry kept staring at him with gauging, calculating eyes, yet Harry shifted uncomfortably on his seat at the idea that had struck him, knowing very well that it would get him arrested and thrown into jail in the Muggle World.
Harry quickly darted one more glance at Alphard and Tom, and finally squared his shoulders and swallowed his misgivings and nervousness as he made up his mind, rising to his feet as he stretched out a hand towards Abraxas.
"A dance, Malfoy?" he said coolly.
Abraxas stared at him, looking stumped, before his silvery eyes narrowed. "What are you up to, Riddle?"
"I'm just asking for a dance," said Harry shortly, pointedly and impatiently bobbing his proffered hand up and down.
"Do you even know how to dance to this?" demanded Abraxas as he gestured towards a corner of the Great Hall, where instruments floated as if being played by invisible hands. "It is a wizarding ballroom ballad-"
"I don't," interjected Harry wryly, "but I'm sure you'll enjoy teaching me."
Abraxas quirked an eyebrow at him before he widely smirked, his eyes gleaming as he grasped Harry's hand. "Very well."
A moment later, they were wrestling with each other, for there was no other word for it. It certainly wasn't pretty, as Harry did his best to force them in one direction and Malfoy tried to twirl him around, of all things.
"I am the one leading, Riddle," hissed out Abraxas angrily, as he tightened his clutch on Harry's hand and waist. "I told you to follow the steps of my feet-"
"Stop groping me!" snarled Harry under his breath, as he kept shooting glances at his target, trying to move them closer.
"I'm not groping, you fool! This is how this ballad is danced-"
Abraxas hissed as Harry distractedly stepped on his foot once more. "Riddle, look down to your own feet if you want to learn how to dance properly! You're making a spectacle-"
Harry utterly ignored Malfoy's incensed rants, no matter if he did notice that several students were shooting them surprised looks, arched eyebrows, or glances filled with gossipy curiosity and interest – he knew he would be paying for it later, Hogwarts' grapevine was something to be feared.
Regardless, at the moment he was single-mindedly focused on his mission, and grinned when he finally made them move right behind Tom. Tom who was dancing with Olive Hornby, surely by all means and purposes looking as if he was having a wonderful time, though Harry could feel his brother's bored annoyance like a faint prickle in his scar.
Tom who still hadn't seen him and had his back to them, in a perfect position.
Harry flung out a foot, and watched as his brother tripped, staggered, and landed on the floor on hands and knees in an entanglement with his own dress robes.
Olive Hornby gasped and stared, Malfoy froze with wide eyes, and Tom snarled from the floor, apparently angered with himself, before he rose his gaze and caught sight of Harry, realization dawning on him as his expression turned murderous.
"You dared!" hissed out Tom like a furious rattle-snake. "It was you-"
"You're so clumsy, brother!" Harry instantly gushed worriedly as he crouched beside him, his eyes widening as he stared at Tom's ankle. "You've sprained it!"
"What?" spat Tom, seething and glowering, as he began to fluidly rise to his feet.
"No, no!" cried Harry concernedly as he quickly grabbed one of Tom's arms and flung it over his own shoulders, forcefully holding him up. "You shouldn't force it. Don't put weight on it, brother! I'll take you to the Infirmary!"
"I am not-"
"I don't see anything wrong," interjected Olive Hornby, frowning as her gaze roved over Tom's body.
Harry shook his head mournfully. "I should take him to the Hospital Wing anyway, just to make sure. Tom's bones are very frail, you know?"
"I beg your pardon?" spat Tom outraged, as Harry squeezed his arm pointedly and then patted him comfortingly with his free hand.
"You shouldn't be embarrassed," said Harry softly, peering up at him soulfully. "We all have our failings, brother."
Olive Hornby huffed irritably. "I do not see-"
"Here," said Harry quickly, giving Malfoy a hard shove. "He'll dance with you in my brother's absence. It's only proper. Have fun!"
"What are you doing?" snarled Tom under his breath, enraged, as Harry yanked him away, still supporting him as though he were an invalid.
"Shut up and play along, you idiot!" whispered Harry sharply, as he ignored his painfully throbbing scar and glanced around searchingly. "You'll soon understand."
It was then when his gaze locked with Alphard's, who was still dancing with Lucretia though clearly having witnessed the situation from afar, looking puzzled and curious.
Harry grinned at him, waggling his eyebrows before pointedly jerking his chin in the direction of the Great Hall's doors.
Alphard blinked bemusedly, yet Harry knew his best friend had understood the gist of his request as the boy then nodded.
The moment he and Tom left the Great Hall behind, Harry instantly ducked away from under his brother's arm and kept a safe distance between them.
"What is all this about?" demanded Tom angrily as he immediately rounded on him.
Harry held up a hand, casting glances towards the doors of the Great Hall. "Wait. I don't want to explain twice."
Tom poisonously glowered at him, as he hissed out acidly, "I will not be made to wait for explanations-"
"What's going on?"
Recognizing the voice, Harry smiled widely as he saw Alphard rushing forth towards them.
"Lucretia?" said Harry the moment his friend halted before him.
"Left her with Orion," panted out Alphard. "Told her I was tired and was going to sleep early." He shot him a quizzical look. "But why…"
The boy trailed off, his big, grey eyes widening as Harry gave him a beaming, proud grin.
An instant later, Alphard clutched Harry's shoulders as he breathed out joyfully, "You found it! Didn't you?"
"Yup," said Harry smugly.
"What?" Tom, who had been glaring at Alphard, snapped his head around to stare at Harry with piercing, narrowed eyes. "You mean you actually found-"
"I see," drawled a frosty voice, making Harry groan.
One look over his shoulder confirmed that it was indeed Malfoy sauntering towards them, with a chilly expression on his pale face.
"Thought you would leave me behind, did you? Foisting that… girl, on me," drawled Malfoy spitefully, his silvery eyes narrowing. "If we are talking about what I believe we are-"
"We aren't talking about anything," bit out Harry crossly, "with you."
Malfoy's nostrils flared, pulling himself up to his full height, as he spat, "You need me, Riddle. Let us not forget it, shall we?" Abruptly, he smirked, his whole countenance changing into one of lofty conceit, as he drawled importantly, "Only a Malfoy could vouch for the veracity of your claims-"
"Malfoy will be coming along," interrupted Tom in a curt, commanding tone of voice, as he shot Harry a reproving glare. "Now take us to-"
"Oh!" murmured Alphard fretfully, casting Harry an urgent look. "But first we should-"
"You're right," muttered Harry perking up. "I'll get it all. Wait here with them!"
He was gone in a flash before Tom could even open his mouth, rushing towards the dungeons.
The moment he careened into their dormitory, Harry unlocked his trunk and Alphard's, fishing out their hand mirrors and small phials of phoenix tears. Finally, he contemplated his Scorcrup who was curled in his bed, peacefully dozing.
"Ulysses," he murmured softly, scratching the little creature's furred head to awake him.
The Scorcrup cracked his green eyes open, peeking at him as he began to purr loudly.
"Are you up for an adventure?" said Harry quietly. "And, um, probably danger too?"
Ulysses cocked his head to a side, before he licked his hand.
"Thanks," said Harry smiling warmly as he took him in his arms, rushing back to the ground floor of the castle as he whispered his explanations and instructions to his Scorcrup.
"And if the damned Basilisk tries to hurt us," he concluded hurriedly, shooting his familiar a grave look. "Because you know that Alphard and I believe that it is a basilisk, Ulysses. So use your lethal venom to strike it – not the paralyzing one– and hopefully it will affect it. But if you see that you're outmatched then save yourself, because we have other ways to deal with it."
Little Ulysses bobbed his head in tacit agreement and understanding just as Harry halted before the three other boys.
Tom shot the Scorcrup a contemptuous look, before he sneered tartly, "Can we get moving, at last?"
"Where to?" piped in Alphard excitedly.
"You'll see," said Harry widely grinning. "You won't believe it. Follow me!"
Marching in silence up the moving staircases, they were soon on the second floor, before the door of-
"This is a girls' lavatory," drawled Abraxas scathingly, as he shot Harry a frosty look. "Are you jesting? And what is making that horrendous racket!"
"That would be Myrtle," said Harry with a heavy sigh, his expression pinched when, just then, a loud, shrilly wail resounded through the door.
"Your 'date'?" sneered Tom contemptuously, a malevolent glint in his dark blue eyes.
"I'll deal with her," said Harry quickly. "I'll make her leave-"
"If you expect me to believe," interjected Abraxas in a chilly, offended tone, "that the entrance to the Chamber is in a girls'-"
"Wait!" Harry cried out when Tom abruptly, and clearly ignoring everyone else, turned the doorknob and strode into the bathroom.
Malfoy was soon rushing after him, leaving Harry and Alphard no other choice than to quickly follow.
Myrtle, of course, and just as Harry had feared, instantly took notice of them, still sprawled on the floor next to a toilet.
Her bespectacled eyes widened at the sight of them, her face instantly contorting as she pointed an accusing, shaky finger at Harry.
"I knew it!" she shrieked stridently. "And now you've brought all your friends to taunt me! Mock me and laugh at me-"
"Stupefy!" intoned Tom coolly, having whipped out his wand and swirled it so swiftly that it was a mere blur.
"Tom!" choked out Harry aghast as the girl keeled over, thudding loudly and painfully on the floor, unconscious. He then clutched his brother's wrist tightly as he snapped angrily, "What are you doing!"
Tom merely arched an eyebrow at him, before he shot Malfoy a pointed glance. "If you will?"
"It will be my pleasure," drawled Abraxas, his lips curling nastily as he aimed his wand and bit out, "Mobilicorpus!"
Myrtle's unconscious body was unceremoniously floated out of the lavatory, Harry's outrage heightening when he saw that Malfoy was purposely making her head and limbs bump against stalls and the doorframe.
With another flick of Malfoy's wand, Myrtle was left sprawled inside a broom cupboard in the corridor, making Harry round on him and Tom.
"We cannot leave her like this!" he said hotly, gesturing at the poor girl.
"Why not?" retorted Tom nonchalantly, rising an eyebrow at him. "She will not be regaining consciousness in some time and all students and professors will be entertained in the Ball for the next couple of hours."
Harry scowled at him, gritting out, "But she'll know that-"
"She will know nothing," interrupted Tom impatiently and with deep annoyance, "except what you tell her when you later take her to the Infirmary. Now, show us where it is."
"Fine," snapped Harry churlishly as they all went back to the girls' loo.
"If you are going to tell us that the entrance is through one of the toilets," said Abraxas, his lips twisting with utter disgust as he eyed one, "then I shall not be accompanying you-"
"A toilet?" Harry shot him a considering look, before he dryly chuckled under his breath. "That wouldn't have been a bad idea either." Ignoring Malfoy's scandalized and indignant expression, he was swift to point a finger at the sinks. "But no, it's there."
Tom was instantly before it, inspecting it closely with his gaze and hands.
"How do you know?" demanded Abraxas, his silvery eyes narrowing with puzzlement and suspicion. "Unless you have already tried-"
"This is what my brother must have found," said Tom placidly, shooting Harry a surreptitious, hard look.
"Yeah, exactly," Harry said quickly, though he didn't realize what his brother was talking about until he took several steps closer and saw what Tom's fingers were caressing - snake figures carved in the metal of one of the faucets.
"Very astute of him," Tom muttered under his breath as he kept trailing his fingers over the depicted snakes, his dark blue eyes glinting exultantly as he then glanced about the bathroom.
Harry grinned at him. "I thought so too."
Abraxas inspected the faucet as well, apparently being satisfied by the explanation, whilst Alphard –the only one other than Tom who knew about Harry's Magic-sight ability- grinned to himself.
"This is truly it, then!" Alphard then whispered excitedly, beaming at Harry.
"We shall see," interjected Tom curtly, though there was a gleam of zealousness, reverence, and greed in his dark blue eyes, as he took a step back, spreading out his arms as he then hissed imperiously, "Reveal your entrance to Slytherin's Heir!"
Harry had to roll his eyes at that, even when the sinks began to rotate and shift, since he was certain a simple 'Open' would have done the trick. Trust Tom to be his most pompous-self for the occasion.
A moment later, they were all clustered around a wide hole in the floor, Alphard looking fascinated, Tom self-satisfied and triumphant, and Abraxas revolted.
"Is this – a pipe?" Abraxas' lips curled in fastidious distaste, his aristocratic nose scrunching snidely. "It reeks and looks slimy."
"Just the place for you then – do make yourself useful," piped in Harry, grinning nastily as he instantly gave him a hard push.
Malfoy's long-winded shriek of "Riddle!" faded into the depths, lasting for several long moments, decreasing in volume, before nothing came out but silence.
"Harry!" Alphard gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. "What if he got hurt? What if-"
"Who cares?" Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I doubt that the fall-"
"We do care," interrupted Tom sternly, glowering, "for if he broke his neck, we cannot take this way ourselves, can we?"
"He's fine, I'm sure," snapped Harry, before he peered down into the deep darkness of the gigantic pipe and bellowed, "Oi, Malfoy! You there?"
A far away, muffled string of very foul words answered him, and Harry gestured demonstratively. "See? He's peachy."
Pressing Ulysses against his chest and casting charms on his robes' pockets to protect the items inside, Harry then declared swiftly, "I'll go next!"
And with that, he jumped.
He would have whooped with enjoyment as he suddenly found himself sliding down a tube at breakneck speed if it wasn't for the fact that he was entering unknown, dangerous territory.
It was dizzying and thrilling, as he spun and turned and kept sliding down in a steep spiral.
Suddenly, there was nothing but air, his free hand and legs flailing and wheeling until he struck against something cushy, a whoosh of pained air blowing against his face.
"Get off, Riddle!" snarled Abraxas at him, as Harry found himself sprawled on top of the boy who had apparently buffered his fall, their faces inches apart, their noses touching.
He was violently shoved away, and Harry staggered and nearly fell before he finally managed to regain his balance.
Ulysses jumped from his arm as Harry took notice that they were in some sort of cavernous, round room, knee-deep in piles of bones, rotten bits of flesh, and squishy muck. The air was foul and still, a stench permeating the gloomy place, the sound of drips of water echoing from crevices.
The only source of light came from the Lumos charm that Malfoy had apparently cast, the glow issuing from the tip of the boy's wand as Malfoy rose to his feet, his pale face contorted in fury and disgust as he attempted to dust off his robes – a moot point, because they were both covered in slime, their faces and clothes grimy, Malfoy's platinum blonde hair disarrayed and entangled, looking filthy and sticky with brown smudges.
"You look very pretty, Malfoy," Harry sniggered meanly under his breath.
Abraxas shot him a venomous glower as he kept batting his palms against his dress robes, as he spat, "These were my favorite – they're ruined! Look at these stains, not even with a cleaning spell-"
Harry rolled his eyes before he found Malfoy's wand aimed at him, the Lumos nearly blinding, though he could dimly see the boy's pale face going dark with rage.
Though whatever intentions of getting revenge were forestalled when they heard a cry of surprise, the voice gaining volume the nearer it came, as Harry rose his gaze upwards, catching sight of what was undoubtedly the end of the gigantic pipe, looking like wide hole in the low ceiling.
Instantly, Harry whipped out his wand and uttered an incantation, the Cushioning Charm materializing just as Alphard came shooting out.
The boy bounced twice on the conjured bubble of air, before he rebounded and fell face-first in a pile of bones.
"Al!" said Harry instantly, trudging quickly through the muck to pull his friend up.
"Morgaine's tits - what a ride!" Alphard said with a chuckle, grinning widely as Harry helped him to his feet. "Your brother follows-"
Harry quickly tried to cast the same charm again, though it was unnecessary, since before he could manage it Tom came out from the hole, floating down to the ground as if carried by a flock of invisible fairies, evidently having cast a spell on himself beforehand, perfectly and effortlessly landing in slow motion, his superior smirk widening at the sight of their grubby, disheveled appearances.
Abraxas looked even more irritated than ever, at that, as he superciliously proceeded to quickly cast cleansing spells at himself, to regain his usual, impeccable, prim neatness, no doubt.
Neither Harry nor Alphard bothered with such things as they were occupied in inspecting their surroundings as Ulysses kept sniffing around with his fur standing on end.
"It looks like its lair," Alphard whispered tensely, wand in hand as he shot Harry a wary look. "Do you think the monster-"
"Lair? Monster?" Abraxas was before them in the bat of an eyelash, his pale face going stark white. "As in Salazar Slytherin's monster of the legend-"
"Surely you didn't think there wouldn't be any obstacles?" scoffed out Harry, shooting him a disparaging look, before he brightened. "Oh, before I forget..."
He trailed off as he fished out the items he had brought along. He kept one of the hand mirrors as he gave the other to Alphard, pausing as he considered the two small vials of phoenix tears.
At the glance Harry cast at him, Alphard sighed and shrugged his shoulders, as he muttered, "If you must."
Harry shot him a grateful smile as he handed one of the phials to Tom, who accepted it with just an arched eyebrow. Grudgingly, he then thrust the other into Malfoy's hands.
Abraxas stared at the small vial, frowning. "Are these-" He swallowed thickly the next moment, turning alarmingly pale as he gave Harry a frenzied look. "What kind of monster are we speaking about?"
"We are fairly certain," Harry informed him coolly, "that it is a Basilisk."
"Basilisk?" Abraxas croaked faintly, looking about to sway on his feet.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy, before he grinned hopefully. "If you're scared, Malfoy, you can turn around and-"
"Malfoys are afraid of nothing!" bit out Abraxas, immediately recovering his haughty demeanor as he pulled himself up to his full height and sneered at them.
"Malfoy will be coming along," stated Tom in a hard tone of voice, his piercing, narrowed eyes flickering from one to the other. "Let's get moving. We have no time to waste."
"He'll just be a nuisance and hinder us," Harry whispered sharply, quickly moving to Tom's side as they took the only tunnel-like passage out of the cavernous room.
"We need him," Tom said shortly, his tone curt and whiplashing with annoyance.
Harry gritted his teeth but didn't press the matter as they proceeded forwards, Tom and Malfoy with their Lumos Charms, Ulysses sniffing with his hackles raised, while Alphard seemed to be of the same mind as Harry and preferred to keep his wand without any spells in case they needed to quickly cast a curse to defend themselves.
They were all quiet, tense, and on guard, gripping their wands tightly as they saw signs of the existence of the monster all around – more bones of small animals and their fetid remains, pools of dried blood, and clusters of shed, withered skin.
"We must be in the very foundations of the castle," drawled Abraxas stiffly, glancing about with narrowed, silvery eyes. "It looks like a sewer – some sort of underground plumbing system."
Harry had to swallow his irritation. The git sounded prickly disappointed. No doubt Malfoy had expected that the location of the Chamber of Secrets was bound to be someplace grand, lavish, and awe-inspiring, instead of dark, gloomy, and damp.
Though the only one who didn't seem to be affected by the stuffy and clammy air and the grimy darkness was Tom, who strode arrogantly as though it was his undisputed and much sought-after domain.
After walking through what felt like a labyrinthine succession of tunnels, they finally found themselves standing before an immense, round airlock displaying several iron-wrought figures of snakes, so finely detailed that they almost seemed real.
The moment Harry saw Tom raising his arms, indubitably about to spout some grandiose and pretentious nonsense, he was quick to hiss, "Open!"
Tom shot him a dark, irked look, but Harry paid him no mind, fascinated as the snakes began to move, slithering and turning around in the airlock, faster and faster until a loud 'click' resounded and the metal door flung open.
Tom and Malfoy instantly brought their wands forwards, to bathe the interior with their glowing spheres of light. However, nothing greeted them except vast, fathomless darkness, and a ladder going down, attached to a wall – looking to Harry like one of those small, narrow, metal ladders that he had seen in pictures in muggle newspapers, of the interiors of U-boats.
Picking up Ulysses in his arms and settling him on a shoulder, he followed the others as one by one they climbed down with their hands and feet.
When they were all standing in damp stone floors, wary and surrounded by blackness, Tom cast quietly, "Lumos Maxima!"
Awed and surprised gasps and exhalations of breath ensued as their new surroundings were bathed in light.
The place was immense, as if gouged out by Giants from the underground layers of rocks of Hogwarts' foundations, the walls cavern-like, the floors made of smooth stones, yet there was beautiful artistry also, in the two rows of metal statues flanking either sides of the chamber, figures of large coiled snakes, their maws open as if they were about to strike, towering over them as they stood one after the other in pools of water, basins that ran along at either sides of the stone floor, and at the very end, an enormous face was carved in stone, looking impressive and intimidating, with enormous narrowed eyes, flowing, long tendrils of hair and beard that reached the floor, thin curled lips parted open, and gaunt, protruding cheeks – it was the face of Salazar Slytherin.
Tom's eyes glimmered fervently, Alphard looked marveled, even Malfoy seemed suitably impressed, yet Harry was mesmerized because he could also see what the others could not.
"This is the Chamber of Secrets," breathed out Harry in absolute certainty, his green eyes wide at the mantles of magic glowing all around, so bright and beautiful, so powerful and potent that his skin was prickling, a network of sparkling green and silver threads, knotted together with dancing runes flashing by and wriggling and moving as if to a silent tune.
At the glances that Tom and Alphard gave him, he knew they understood what he had to be seeing.
"Like the Dueling Chamber of our House?" hissed Tom demandingly.
Realizing what his brother truly wanted to know, Harry eyed the ancient runes of the nearest wall and then nodded at him. "Yes, I think we can do Dark Magic here, undetected."
Tom smirked widely, his eyes gleaming with supreme satisfaction, before he commanded imperiously, "Fan out. We will inspect the Chamber in pairs."
Abraxas instantly moved to Tom's side, no doubt because the coward trusted that Tom was the most powerful and knowledgeable one that could protect him if something happened, while Harry and Alphard automatically grouped together, as they were well used to go about exploring with each other, Ulysses trailing along.
"What are we supposed to find?" whispered Alphard, who now kept shooting anxious looks over his shoulder as if expecting the Basilisk to suddenly materialize and pounce on them.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, though he had a fairly good idea what his brother was hoping for. After all, Tom knew the basics regarding Sherisse Slytherin and Morgon Gaunt – though his brother just knew that 'M.G.' had been a Gaunt and their ancestor, yet not the full name and story that Santi had disclosed to Harry.
Hence, Harry knew that Morgon Gaunt had stolen everything that Sherisse and her parents had owned and kept in their chambers in Hogwarts, along with his ill-begotten son. Tom was not going to find any heirlooms here.
It was half an hour later when Harry could feel Tom's disappointed anger and irritation like a bothersome prickle in his scar. Tom and Malfoy had already inspected the right-side row of serpent statues and were now aimlessly moving about, Tom's Parseltongue now sounding like insistent, irked, spat out hisses, while Harry and Alphard were still midway in checking the left row of metal figures.
Harry stilled, frowning down, when he noticed that Ulysses was pawing and hissing at the base of their next snake statue, up to his chin in water.
"Something there?" muttered Harry, his Scorcrup glancing up at him before proceeding to pointedly claw at it once more, his tail swinging back and forth, splashing.
Harry shot the looming serpent statue a dubious look, since it looked like all the rest in its glowing magic, and hissed tentatively, "Open!"
Nothing happened, and Harry sighed as he gently nudged Ulysses along with the tip of his shoe, not wanting to soak his feet. "To the next one-"
"No," murmured Alphard, suddenly grabbing Harry's arm. "I think Ulysses is on to something." He pointed a finger over Harry's shoulder, his grey eyes widening. "Look at that."
Turning around and following the direction of his friend's finger, Harry frowned as he gazed at Slytherin's etched face in the distance. "What is it?"
"His eyes," whispered Alphard excitedly.
Only then did Harry detect and realize what the boy meant, as he gazed once more at Slytherin's stone eyes, noticing that its carved pupils were not staring straight ahead but were slightly shifted to a side.
"It's as though he's staring right at this statue," said Harry slowly, turning back to blink at the towering metal serpent.
"Exactly!" said Alphard animatedly.
"And it's the middle one," muttered Harry in realization as he gazed at the row of snakes. "And the seventh."
"Seventh?" Alphard glanced around, quickly counting the statues on both rows at either sides of the chamber, before he brightened. "You're right! There are thirteen on each row – this one is on the left side and the mid one and the seventh! And that's very significant because-"
"Seven is one of the most powerful magical numbers," said Harry in a monotone as he had already endured Tom's lectures about Arithmancy, one of the many electives courses that his brother had chosen and was vastly enjoying.
"And so is thirteen! And being on the left side and in the middle also has underlying meanings and importance…"
Harry barely paid attention to Alphard's eager rambling as he frowned at the statue once more and hissed pressingly, "Open!"
His frown deepened when still nothing happened, and he finally stepped into the pool of water to stand closer to it, next to Ulysses who was now hissing and spitting at it more insistently than ever.
"Found something?"
At the sound of his brother's voice, Harry glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Tom and Abraxas were suddenly there, though he went back to inspect the statue when Alphard began to rush out the explanation for their suspicions.
Tracing a finger over the lattice of magic covering the body of the snake statue, he tilted his head to a side when he caught sight of one wriggling ancient rune, remembering what he had been studying and the runes' significance.
"Blood!" he exclaimed loudly as understanding dawned on him. "It needs blood – Slytherin blood, I reckon." He shot Tom a grin over his shoulder. "Our blood."
In an instant, Harry yanked off the silk cravat from his throat, and aimed his wand at the stupid thing, casting one of the many Transfiguration spells they had been taught by their tutors during the holidays, considered Dark for the very same reason that it created weapons.
He grinned smugly when his cravat turned into a shinny dagger, though it was ripped from his hands abruptly.
"I will do it," bit out Tom harshly, swiftly using it to slash a cut across his palm.
Harry shot him a thoroughly surprised look, since Tom wasn't one to willingly injure himself, and much less when Harry had already volunteered.
Bemused, he merely fished out Ulysses from the pool of water and took a step back unto the stone floors as Tom extended his palm and smeared the statue with his blood.
A moment later, the statue flashed brightly before Harry's eyes as it creaked and shifted backwards, slowly revealing an opening where its base once stood. It became more intriguing when Tom's Lumos shed light on it, allowing them to see a downward spiraling staircase, not even being flooded since the water in the pool surrounding it stilled as if magically repelled from the entrance.
"Where are you going!"
Harry was yanked backwards the moment he tried to set a foot forth onto the first step.
He shot his brother an incredulous look as he briskly wrenched his arm free from Tom's grasp. "Inside, of course! Where else?"
"It could lead to the creature's lair," hissed out Tom angrily, attempting to rip him away once more.
"So?" snapped Harry impatiently, shrugging him off.
"I'll be the one to confront the Basilisk," spat Tom sharply, his eyes narrowing to slits, "not you-"
"Right!" bit out Harry angrily, incensed at the clear implication that his brother thought he couldn't deal with the creature as well as Tom could, instantly giving his brother a hard shove as he wasted no time in finally taking the first step.
As soon as his shoe touched it, he was suddenly bathed in light, his eyebrows shooting upwards.
"Well, it's not the creature's lair, that's certain," mumbled Harry, eyeing the previously unseen torches that had abruptly flared to life, merrily burning in flames, one after the other as they disappeared into the depths of the spiraling staircase.
Thrilled and intrigued, he marched down the stairs, Tom right behind him, no longer protesting, though Harry abruptly halted at the sound of his brother's sharp chuckles.
"I think not. Only my brother and I will be going."
Harry turned around, frowning, when he saw Tom aiming his wand at Malfoy and Alphard, who apparently had been about to step into the staircase.
"I beg your pardon?" snarled Abraxas under his breath, his pale face contorting with rage.
"We cannot leave them behind!" said Harry heatedly as he noticed that Alphard had blanched.
"They have no right to come along," hissed Tom venomously, shooting him a glower over his shoulder as he kept aiming his wand up at the other two boys. "They are not Slytherin's descendants. Whatever there is down here, it is only for us to see."
Harry opened his mouth to argue, before he realized it would be useless. They shouldn't be wasting time and Tom was a greedy, selfish bastard anyway, who wouldn't be convinced to share with the others any discoveries, no matter what he said.
Nevertheless, he didn't feel comfortable in leaving Alphard alone in the Chamber of Secrets. Malfoy was as good as useless since Harry knew the boy would only save his own hide if something happened while they were gone.
Making up his mind, Harry quickly darted up the stairs, passing Tom, to hand over Ulysses to his friend.
"He'll protect you," Harry murmured, as Alphard automatically wrapped his arms around the Scorcrup. At the look his friend gave him, staring at him with big, grey eyes filled with apprehension, Harry added softly as he soothingly squeezed Alphard's shoulder, "I won't be long, I promise."
Though Harry did hesitate when Alphard began to look panicked, either worried for him or himself, he couldn't tell, but it nevertheless made him feel guilty.
Harry sighed as he began to climb out of the stairs as he shot his brother a look over his shoulder. "Tom, I will stay behind with them-"
He yelped when he was abruptly yanked backwards, staggering and nearly tripping and tumbling down the stairs if it weren't for Tom's brusque manhandling, as he heard his brother's voice hissing angrily, "Close!"
Alphard cried out frantically, Malfoy snarled and shouted, yet their voices were cut short as the base of the serpent statue slammed back into place right above Tom and Harry's heads.
Still illuminated under the torchlight of the stairs, Harry spun around angrily. "I wanted to stay with-"
"Hush!" spat Tom ill-temperedly, before he flung out his wounded hand. "Now, heal it!"
Harry's nostrils flared, as he snapped hotly, "Heal it yourself!"
"You're the one who's been studying the Healing Arts," gritted out Tom irritably, narrowing his dark blue eyes at him. "So prove yourself useful, for once!"
"You should start learning too," grumbled Harry peevishly under his breath as he deflated and took hold of his brother's injured palm, aiming his wand at it.
"Why should I?" said Tom, his tone arrogantly dismissive as he watched how Harry cast the spell. "I am not naturally inclined towards Healing and that area of knowledge holds no interest for me." He shot him a wide, superior smirk. "And I already have you, for that."
Harry peeled his morbidly fascinated gaze away from the skin knotting itself together in his brother's palm, leaving no scar behind, while he refused to feel pleasure in the sudden flare of warm and fuzzy feelings at knowing that his brother allowed himself to depend on him for something – especially since he knew that even if Tom hadn't been studying Healing, he knew the basics and could have dealt with the superficial cut by himself.
"Come, let's be quick," said Harry gruffly as he then briskly dropped his brother's hand.
They fell silent as they proceeded to climb down the stairs, wands in hand and eyes darting around, alert.