More edits to incorporate Mordred's new Gender.
Spy: I guess the rumours are true...
Kyugan: What Rumours?
Pyro: Mmhmmhmm...
Spy: Indeed monster...The Harem Must Be Fed.
Kyugan: Dear Lord I forgot about that...In any case, the wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what change this continuum shift has wrought!
Chapter 6: The Chamber of Secrets.
"You're…not Sabre…" Herwald noted, the Einzbern youth kicking himself for the slip, even as he backed away from the silvery figure warily.
While the figure before him resembled the King of Knights, eerily so, right down to the weird, dress-like outfit she wore under her armour, there were several differences, the most telling being that whereas only a truly blind man could have confused Arturia for a man, even WITH her armour, THIS Knight's armour did a much better job of concealing her frame. Also absent was the King of Knight's trademark cowlick, or as Rin teasingly referred to it, her 'ahoge', though the look of suspicious anger on the ghosts face was so reminiscent of Arturia's own it was truly hard to tell her apart from the King of Knights.
"Answer me!" the ghost demanded, stepping out of the wall, sword in hand, and Herwald, despite knowing Ghosts couldn't harm the living, physically anyway, couldn't help backing up a step "How is it you know my face? From whence did you learn that name? No-one should know that name!"
"The question is, who are YOU?" Herwald countered, glaring at the spirit defiantly "Why is it you resemble Arturia so hauntingly?" he winced at the bad pun "And how do YOU know of her true name? Only those closest to the King of Knights knew of her true gender." He frowned suspiciously "Are you, perhaps, of the Round?"
The Knight's eyes flared, only to dim, her anger giving way to bottomless sorrow as she lowered her phantasmal weapon "Nay, I do not deserve to be known by that title…a traitor such as me does not deserve to sully the name of those loyal to the King…"
"Then you were one of the Knights that faced their King on the fields of Camlann." Herwald noted, his tone calm, though laced with intrigue, even as the rest of his friends pulled up behind him, eyeing the ghost curiously.
"T'was not meant to be a battle!" the Knight despaired, her face wrought with anguish as her eyes gazed back, no doubt seeing that blood-soaked hill "We had met to discuss peace terms, for no Knight wished to face their King, but some fool saw a snake in the grass and drew his sword." She lowered her head in shame "Before we could stop the rest, battle was upon us, and so Knight fought Knight, Friend fought Friend, Brother fought Brother and Fools made Fools of us all."
The students blinked, Ron, Neville and Draco in confusion, though Hermione seemed moved almost to tears by the young Knight's story. It was understandable really, for while Merlin was as iconic a being to Magical Britain as King Arthur was to the rest of the world, the rest of the Knights were just as well known.
"Who were you?" Herwald asked, unable to help himself, as it was considered rude to ask a ghost to speak of their past lives, even though he had a sinking suspicion he knew who this particular knight was. After all, there was only one way she could resemble Arturia, and only one way she could have knowledge of what truly occurred on that bloody hill.
The ghost did not answer, instead turning shamefacedly away and walking through the wall, just as Sir Nicholas drifted toward them through the crowd with a smile. "Enjoying yourselves?" he asked, missing the look of annoyance on Herwald's face as he glanced around "Not a bad turnout, the Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent…" he smiled proudly "It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra…" he began only to frown as the orchestra stopped playing at that very moment, the rest of the dungeon following suit, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.
"Oh, here we go…" Sir Nicholas muttered bitterly just as a dozen spectral horses burst through the dungeon wall, each ridden by a headless horseman, the assembled ghosts clapping wildly at the sight, Ron and Neville moving to do the same, only for Herwald to stop them, gesturing to the look of anger on Sir Nicholas' face.
The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. He leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd, to the amusement of the guests, and strode over to Sir Nicholas, squashing his head back onto his neck as he went "Nick!" he roared, letting out a hearty guffaw for a man with no pulse, clapping the annoyed ghost on the shoulder "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"
"Welcome, Patrick." Sir Nicholas greeted stiffly, his voice about as welcoming as Antarctica during the ice-age, and about as warm, though if the Dullahan noted, he gave no indication, instead turning his attention to the Students behind the Gryffindor ghost, giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again, to the amusement of the crowd though not to their host "Very amusing."
"Don't mind Nick!" Sir Patrick's head shouted at the students from the floor "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt!" he frowned good-naturedly at the Gryffindor ghost as he picked his head off the floor "But I mean to say, look at the fellow!"
"I fail to see the problem." Herwald replied calmly, earning a look from the Dullahan and several members of the party "As I understand it, the only requirement to join the hunt is to have died via beheading, correct?" at the ghost's frown he continued "I'd say the fact it took forty-five times before they could manage it simply spoke of Sir Nicholas' fortitude in life, he simply wouldn't go down easy."
SERVED!
Silent mutters arose from the crowd, some of them admirable, the spectre of Sir Patrick looking decidedly uncomfortable while Sir Nicholas seemed to swell with pride, her certainly wasn't swelling with air, not needing to breath. "If I could have everyone's attention?" The ghost called out "It's time for my speech!" he declared, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight and clearing his throat, more out of habit really "My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow…"
But Herwald was already moving, not wanting to lose the ghost of the knight that bore Sabre's face, the Einzbern youth making his way towards the exit whilst keeping the Knight's position in his mind, the others following suit behind him.
"Glad to be out of there…" Ron muttered, teeth chattering despite the chill as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor "Who was that ghost you were talking to mate?"
"Honestly Ron, weren't you paying attention?" Hermione huffed, shaking her head in exasperation even as the redhead flushed, not entirely from the potion he'd consumed either, even as she turned to Herwald, her eyes flashing with curiosity "Do you really think he was a member of the Round Table, Herwald?"
"She, and of that I've little doubt." Herwald muttered, even as the others' eyes widened at the revelation of the Knight's gender "She spoke of the battle of Camlann, and judging by her shame, she was on the side of those who turned against the King."
"Blimey…" Ron muttered, even Neville and Draco looking thrown by the revelation, and for good reason, as any Pureblood Wizard new of the Knights of the Round, as Merlin played a key role in several of their adventures. By now the group had backtracked to the passageway full of black candles, and Herwald was trying to recall just which direction the ghost had escaped in when he heard it.
"… rip… tear… kill…"
It was the same cold, murderous voice he had heard the other day, the Einzbern's back freezing as he whipped his head around, listening with all his might, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway for the source. "Herwald?" Draco asked, looking alarmed by his friend's sudden actions, and rightfully so, as you never knew just what you'd run into in a dungeon "What's wrong?"
"… so hungry…" the voice hissed, Herwald's brow furrowing at the almost serpentine quality that made his blood run cold "…for so long…"
"Can't you HEAR that?" he demanded urgently, the others looking at one another in confusion, and in Hermione's case, concern, Herwald ignoring it as he turned his head in the direction of the voice's echo.
"… kill… time to kill…"
The voice was growing fainter, but by that point Herwald had already ascertained where the source was heading, and was already racing after it, the spectral Knight temporarily forgotten as he moved ever upwards, a mixture of fear and excitement gripping the Einzbern youth despite himself.
"This way!" he shouted, racing up the stairs and into the entrance hall, cursing as the noise coming from the Great Hall, where the Halloween Feast was still going strong apparently, made listening for the voice impossible, Herwald relying on memory of it's last heading to lead him up the marble staircase to the first floor, the other's clattering behind him at a run.
"Herwald what the devil is the matter with you?" Draco yelled, looking flushed but hardly breathless, unlike poor Neville, who was trailing from the rear.
"Shut up for a second!" Herwald hissed, straining his ears, having heard something distantly from the floor above, something that was growing fainter still even as he moved towards it.
"… I smell blood…" the voice hissed, eagerness in those cold, murderous tones that reminded Herwald all to well of Grandfather Jubstacheit, which was NOT a pleasant comparison by any margin "I SMELL BLOOD!"
"Scheiße! It's going to kill someone!" Herwald shouted, ignoring the others' bewildered faces as he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps and the pants of the others just behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry, what was that all about?" Ron demanded, the redhead using Herwald's old name to show just how vexed he was, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything…"
"LOOK!" Hermione gasped suddenly, the bushy-haired girl's hand clamped over her mouth, the other pointing down the corridor, where something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE!
Castle stairway...
"Was zur Hölle?" Herwald breathed, blinking at the sight before him, almost unwilling to break the silence that the words seemed to summon by their mere presence.
"It can't be…" Draco whispered, his features paler than normal as he stared at the wall "It can't be real, who would be able to-?"
"What's that thing…hanging underneath?" Ron asked, cutting off Herwald's own question, a slight quiver in the redhead's voice as he pointed to a small bundle lying on the ground beneath the words.
They edged nearer, Herwald's hand lashing out to grab Neville's arm, the boy having slipped on the large puddle of water on the floor, the round-faced boy thanking his friend while Ron and Hermione inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it, only to leap back with a splash.
"It's Mrs. Norris." Hermione breathed, and sure enough the caretaker's cat, which Herwald had once drop-kicked to distract Filch, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket, stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.
"Let's get out of here." Ron muttered, the Redhead's freckles standing out against his unnaturally pale skin as he backed away from the gruesome sight.
"Shouldn't we try and help?" Neville asked awkwardly, though he too was already moving to put some distance between himself and the cat.
"I agree with Weasley on this one." Draco opined, the Slytherin struggling to maintain his calm as he eyed the frozen feline warily "We don't want to be found here."
But it was too late, for even as they made to flee, the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people heralded the end of the Halloween Feast, Herwald barely managing to shove open a door, urging his friends inside a deserted classroom, just as the first students swarmed into the passage from both ends, the Einzbern looking on through the keyhole as the chatter and bustle dying away suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat.
"Enemies of the Heir, beware!" someone shouted, and Herwald had the sneaking suspicion it was a Slytherin judging by the sneering tone "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
"Sounds like Montague…" Draco muttered, sending an apologetic look Herwald's way, knowing from experience that word was taboo around his friend, even as Ron and Neville scowled, the group slipping out of the classroom while no-one was looking, mingling with the crowd of confused students.
"What's going on here? What's going on?" a voice demanded, Argus Filch, the Squib Caretaker of Hogwarts, shouldering his way through the crowd, taking extra care to employ both elbows for good measure, only to fall back at the sight of his beloved familiar and spy "My cat! My cat!" he shrieked, clutching at his wrinkled face in horror "What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he rounded on the students in a rage "Who did it? Which of you little bastards did it? I swear to God I'll MURDER you all-!"
"Argus!" a familiar voice barked, the students parting respectfully, and partially out of fear, as Dumbledore arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers, the headmaster sweeping past the huffing form of Filch and detaching Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. "Come with me, Argus." he ordered Filch, before turning, to Herwald's shock, to look RIGHT AT HIM "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Granger."
Herwald flinched, but covered it well as he stepped forwards, along with his friends, Ron, Neville and Hermione looking decidedly worried, while Draco tried to hide his concern behind his usual superior expression, though it failed as Filch rounded on them in a snarl of rage "You!" he screeched. "You did it! I'll kill you! I'll-!"
"ARGUS!" Dumbledore bellowed, and for a moment his eyes flashed with power, the headmaster glaring at the cowed caretaker until he was certain he wasn't about to put a toe out of line, before cancelling the effect and turning to the students "Follow me, please."
"My office is nearest, Headmaster." Lockhart suggested, the fop stepping forward eagerly in his bid to brown-nose "Just upstairs, please feel free…"
"Thank you, Gilderoy." Dumbledore offered, cutting off the man so easily Herwald couldn't help but feel impressed, the silent crowd parting to let them pass, an excited Lockhart opening the door to his office with a dramatic flair, Herwald's lip curling in disgust as he espied several of the fop's pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers.
The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back, allowing Dumbledore to lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface to examine her, the students exchanging tense looks as they sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, Professor Snape looming behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: almost as if he was forcing himself not to look at them, though Herwald felt his eyes on the back of his head several times.
All the while, Lockhart was hovering around looking important and making suggestions that nobody asked for. "It was definitely a curse that killed her." He deduced loudly "Probably the Transmogrifian Torture, I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…"
"She seems awfully intact for a victim of the Transmogrifian Torture, Herr Lockhart." Herwald pointed out, his tone polite, though the smirk on his lips was decidedly mocking "Typically, victims tend to be turned inside out, if memory recalls." He looked up as Filch let out a small choking noise at the revelation "Relax, Herr Filch, the fact your familiar is whole, and still covered with Fur, eliminates THAT theory."
DOUBLE SERVING!
Filch relaxed, somewhat, which was a relief, as his racking sobs were rather unnerving to behold. The entire student body had painted an image of Filch being a bitter old spider that hated them for learning what he couldn't, it was quite world-shattering to see the man crying wholeheartedly for his feline partner in crime.
Lockhart apparently didn't take being corrected too well, scowling briefly before plastering a wider smile on his face, trying to catch Dumbledore's attention, only for the Headmaster to ignore him, muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, for all the good it did, as she continued to look and act as if she'd been recently stuffed.
"I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou." Lockhart persisted, the photographs on the walls nodding in agreement as he talked "A series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once…"
"She's not dead, Argus." Dumbledore cut in softly, the Headmaster straightening up at last, Lockhart stopping abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented, much to everyone's relief, with the possible exception of Hermione, who looked disappointed that the tale had stopped.
"Not dead?" choked Filch, the bitter caretaker looking at Mrs. Norris' form hopefully through his fingers, though it was tinged with confusion "But why's she all…stiff and frozen?"
"She has been Petrified." Dumbledore revealed, artfully ignoring Lockhart's cry of 'Ah! I thought so!' as he continued to prod the Frozen Feline with his wand "As for how, I cannot say…"
"Ask them!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to the youths, only to quail under Herwald's emerald stare, as pity or not, the Einzbern would NOT be accused of a crime he had no part in.
"No second year could have done this." Dumbledore insisted firmly, dismissing the student's involvement without a second thought "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced level and mastery to pull off a feat like this within the halls of Hogwarts without first alerting ME."
"If I might speak, Headmaster?" Snape proposed from the shadows behind them "The children may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time." he suggested, earning looks of shock from the Gryffindors that he was coming to their aid, even as a slight sneer caused his mouth to curl "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Halloween feast?"
"If it pleases you, Potion's Master Snape." Draco spoke up, sending a look at Herwald to let him handle it as he turned to look at his Godfather "We were invited as Herwald's guests to attend Sir Nicholas de Mimsey-Porpington's Deathday Party."
"There were hundreds of ghosts at the party." Ron insisted, for once glad that his Slytherin rival had taken the lead "They'll tell you we were there…"
"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape asked, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight as he regarded them carefully "Why go up to that corridor?"
"The party was an exhausting experience, Potion's Master." Herwald spoke up, as Draco had seemingly lost his tongue in the face of his Godfather's inquiry "We were escorting Hermione, Neville and Ronald." She shot Ron an apologetic look "Back to the tower with the intent of turning in for the night when we encountered Mrs. Norris."
"Without any supper?" Snape persisted, his features unreadable as the candlelight flickered across his gaunt face "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."
"Sir Nicholas saw that we were provided for personally." Herwald supplied, realizing that the man was looking for ways to cement their story "You can ask the House Elves if you don't believe me, I'm sure they can account for the food, consumable and otherwise."
"I see…" Snape noted, and while Herwald couldn't read his expression, something in the man's tone seemed tinged with approval even as he turned to face Dumbledore "Headmaster, from what I can see the students seem to have a solid alibi." He shot Ron and Neville a look as they made as if to cheer "It should be no trouble to ask Sir Nicholas to account for their presence, not to mention ascertain whether or not they were, as claimed, fed and watered sufficiently."
Herwald said nothing, as he had noticed Dumbledore looking at him and had turned to face the man head on, Emerald Green locking with Twinkling Blue, as if daring the Supreme Mugwump to discredit his alibi, though to the old man's credit, he didn't feel anything brush against his wards. "Very well, innocent until proven guilty." Dumbledore declared firmly after a moment, the students, with the exception of Herwald, letting out sighs of relief, even as a furious Filch leapt to his feet.
"My cat has been Petrified!" the caretaker shrieked, his eyes popping out of his skull as he shook his clenched fists in the air "I want to see some punishment!"
"We will be able to cure her, Argus." Dumbledore assured the man patiently "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."
"I'll make it!" Lockhart butted in, preening like a peacock "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep-!"
"Excuse me." Snape cut in, his voice like the Arctic in winter, causing the student's, and Filch, to edge away from him, shivering despite themselves "But I believe 'I' am the Potions master at this school."
"You may go," Dumbledore spoke up in the resulting, awkward pause, the students doing so, albeit reluctantly in the boys' case, as they wanted to see Lockhart try and dig his way out of THIS mess, while Hermione kept shooting concerned glances over her shoulder until the door slammed shut behind them, the Gryffindors saying their farewells, leaving Draco and Herwald to return to the Slytherin dormitory on their own.
"Are you planning to tell me what the hell had you so hot and bothered earlier?" Draco demanded, eyeing his friend pointedly "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that we won't be hearing the last of this from Godfather."
"I…heard something…" Herwald muttered, knowing even as he said it he was treading on thin ice, as even amongst wizards, hearing voices wasn't a good sign "It didn't sound HUMAN." He paused, recalling something "What did you mean earlier, when you saw the writing on the wall?"
Draco hesitated, no doubt cursing himself for speaking aloud, only to sigh and scratched the back of his flawless pale hair exasperatedly "It's an old story, you probably know how Hogwarts was founded by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age?"
"Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin." Herwald repeated, as if reading off a list "The Four houses are named after them, they supposed built the castle together and in secret, since it was about the time Magi suffered much persecution."
"Right…" Draco muttered, shivering at the image "Well as the stories go, the founders worked in harmony for years, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then Godric and Salazar began to argue over who should be taught magic. Salazar believed magical learning should be kept within all-magic families, whereas Godric believed anyone should be allowed to learn. In the end Salazar left the school, but not before he fashioned the Chamber of Secrets."
"Just what IS the chamber?" Herwald pressed, drawn, despite himself, to the tale, wondering just what had led to Salazar's leaving the school, and whether he just walked out, or was throw out, and whether or not a duel had been fought on the matter.
"No-one knows really." Draco admitted with a frown "All I can honestly say is that Salazar, without the other founders' knowledge, built a hidden chamber in the castle, sealing it off so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic." He must have read the look on Herwald's face, because the heir of Malfoy raised his hands placatingly to ward off his friend's anger "I'm just repeating the story as my father passed it down! Most people don't believe the Chamber even exists!"
"I assume from your tone that your father thinks otherwise." Herwald noted, relaxing his features, as just because Lord Malfoy was a prat, didn't mean his son had to suffer the same fate, not if Herwald had any say in it "Has it ever been opened?"
"Once that Father can vouch for, though he won't tell me anything about it." Draco admitted, looking rather sullen as he said it "Of course, it was over fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it." He looked at Herwald seriously "But he DID tell me one thing: The last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Muggleborn witch died."
Herwald said nothing, but his mind was already moving a mile a minute as he stalked silently down the corridors towards the dungeon, trying to figure out just what the hell he'd heard, and whether or not it had any relation to Slytherin's Monster.
Knowing HIS luck, it was probably all that and more.
And I'll leave off there...
Spy: Things are beginning to heat up...
Scout: That was pathetic! Look at that freak, crying over some stupid cat.
Heavy: Keep crying baby!
Pyro: *Angry mutterings* MHMHMMMAM!
Scout: Whoa! Easy there matchstick!
Spy: Still, from the looks of things, it would seem young 'Arry retains Riddle's gift with snakes.
Scout: Freaky is what it is, how'd he do that anyway?
Kyugan: I'll cover that later, in the meantime, R&R!