A very belated birthday update for my good pal Sketchfan.
Let's see what happens next eh?
Chapter 10: Dark Developments.
Draco's words proved true, for Herwald got the distinct feeling that he was being watched even more warily every time he ventured out into the corridors. The First years had taken to backing up against the walls whenever he passed, while the older years were eyeing him with their wands held tight in their hands, as if expecting him to start spewing snakes out of his mouth or some nonsense like that.
It was, frankly, rather annoying. Herwald knew first hand he wasn't a descendent of Slytherin, it would have shown up on his family tree when he visited Gringotts last year to claim his vaults, and he highly doubted the Einzberns would have let him go so easily if they'd suspected he had ties to one of Hogwarts' founders.
On top of that, the spectral Knight from Sir Nicholas' Deathday Party had apparently vanished, along with all the other guests, and no matter how hard Herwald prodded, the other ghosts could give no clues as to her identity or location. True, Herwald has his suspicions, as King Arthur was rumoured to have had several children, not all with Guinevere, which could have been born as a result of the prank Merlin played on the King of Knights shortly after the Round Table order was formed. The fact the spectre had been present at the battle of Camlann narrowed things down even further, few of Arthur's supposed offspring had lived to see that awful battle.
What he found truly vexing, however, was the fact no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to speak in Parseltongue consciously. In the end he deduced he needed to be face-to-face with a snake to do it, but Draco was proving most stubborn in regards to assisting in the experiment, point blank refusing to cast the spell he'd used to summon the snake, nor would he teach Herwald how to do so himself, apparently under orders from Snape, and so far his search into the Library had turned up nothing.
He was just considering using the Potter Ring to sneak into the forbidden section, as he highly doubted he'd get a Teacher to sign the permission slip he needed, when he espied a group of Hufflepuffs, sitting at the back of the library, as the last Herbology Class for the term had been cancelled by the Blizzard the night before, their heads close together, so deep in their conversation they didn't notice him lurking nearby.
"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. It's only a matter of time before Potter picks out his next victim, so it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while." He sighed dramatically "Of course Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"
"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" a girl with blonde pigtails asked anxiously, Hannah Abbot if Herwald's memory served, a pleasant girl that occasionally partnered with Neville in Herbology.
"Hannah, he's a Parselmouth." The stout boy sighed sagely "Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."
'Bloody Englanders…' Herwald muttered, fighting the urge to curse aloud in German, as that would give the game away. There truly were times he regretted ever accepting the Hogwarts invitation, and this was one of them.
"And besides," Ernie continued, the stout boy raising a finger authoritatively "remember how Dumbledore called him out when Mrs. Norris was attacked?" he continued as the girls blinked at the memory "Then that first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know he's been attacked."
"He always seems so nice, though…" Hannah countered, looking uncertain "And, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"
"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who." Ernie pointed out, Herwald quirking a brow as the stout little prick actually raised a valid point, one Herwald kept repeating, to no effect, whenever the matter was brought up, the Einzbern reinforcing his hearing to be able to listen in, only to be disappointed with the little bastard's trail of logic "I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper "That's probably why You- Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want ANOTHER Dark Lord competing with him…I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"
"I'm told I give a simply MAGICAL massage." Herwald voiced aloud from behind the boy's chair, the Einzbern unable to help smirking coldly as 'Ernie' leapt out of his seat with a yelp, the Hufflepuffs gaping at him in alarm, as they'd been so immersed in their discussion it must have seemed he'd appeared out of thin air "Hello, Frau Abbot." He offered to Hannah, before nodding towards her friend "And Susan Bones isn't it? I trust your Aunt is keeping well?"
"What do you want Potter?" Ernie demanded, cutting off Susan's reply, the stout boy trying to look intimidating, and failing miserably thanks to the way his voice quavered.
"I understand she's been the head of Magical Law Enforcement for quite some time now." Herwald persisted, ignoring the boy and instead focusing on Susan, who blinked at the honest interest in his eyes "Do you think you could pass on a message for me? I know it's terribly rude to ask, but I've been looking high and low for an unabridged copy of the Laws and Ordinances of Magical Britain but all I seem to come up with are the ministry doctored version that's been out of date for some time now…"
"I'll warn you now there's no point in you getting any ideas." Ernie pointed out hastily, looking rather annoyed that he was being so effectively ignored "I'll have you know I can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and-!"
"How very fascinating." Herwald replied drolly "Yet hardly impressive, as I understand it, the Bones have been around for at least TEN generations, or at least those are the generations in which a Bones has sat as Head of Magical Law Enforcement." He nodded at the flushing girl "And my adopted family holds a position as one of the Five most prestigious, ancient bloodlines in Europe, both Magical and otherwise."
He didn't feel like going into his OWN family tree, the less people knew about him the better. The Einzberns, however, were an infamous Magus family, whose name carried a lot of clout. Few would dare cross an Einzbern for fear of bringing the wrath of the entire clan, more accurately, that of Grandfather Jubstacheit, down on their head like the sword of Damocles.
"And while I have your attention," he muttered, turning to eye the sputtering Hufflepuff with a look that was equal parts disdain and disinterest "Ernie, was it? I'll have you know that up until the moment Draco summoned that serpent I had as much knowledge of my being a Parseltongue as YOU apparently have concerning the skill itself." He quirked a brow to silence the boy's protests "My adopted family's castle is located in the Black Forest of Germany, where it is cold, almost freezing, almost all year around, hardly the ideal location for Snakes or reptiles in general to frequent, wouldn't you agree?"
Ernie blinked, and looked like he was trying to counter the Einzbern's argument, but Herwald mercilessly pressed on, refusing to give the little blowhard moment to BREATH.
"And as for, as you put it, 'Good' Parseltongues, you need look no further than Saint Patrick ofIreland." Herwald supplied, earning a look of shock from the Hufflepuffs "Honestly, how else do you think he managed to convince EVERY SINGLE snake in the country to just bugger off? His gift was so proficient even the Church had to recognize it as a miracle, and this was during a time when Witch Hunts, if you'll pardon the term ladies, were still very popular."
Susan and Hannah flinched at the term, though not as much as Ernie, who was starting to look decidedly out of his depth. Understandable really, as debate was merely a 'civil' form of warfare, one which the Einzberns were quite proficient in. You didn't rise to become included amongst the top five magical lineages simply by casting the spells that made the peoples fall down. Diplomacy was the velvet glove that cloaked the fist of power, and considering the sheer amount of power the Einzbern name wielded, it stood to reason those who bore the name were as deadly in a debate as they were in a duel.
"So I'll thank you to keep your slanderous remarks to yourself, Ernest." He finished, emerald eyes as cold as ice as he smiled at the boy "While I'm sure the Einzberns would enjoy a nice family feud, we get so few challenges these days, I can't imagine it ending well for you."
With Herwald...
Ernie went ramrod straight, his eyes wide and his face paling rapidly as the blood leached from it so quickly it was a wonder he hadn't suffered a stroke. Feuds between magical families were never a good thing, some were still going on at that very moment, though in the United Kingdom they'd devolved to simply undermining one another's business prospects, whereas in mainland Europe it was still possible for entire generations of Magi to be wiped out because of someone saying the wrong thing at the wrong time within earshot of the wrong person.
As such, the idea of Ernie, whose family could only be traced back Nine Generations, inadvertently starting a family feud with the Einzberns, whose ancestry made them one of the Top Five in Europe, was a terrifying prospect.
Work done, Herwald offered his farewells to the silent girls, patting Ernie cheerfully on the shoulder, before turning on his heel and sweeping out of the library, nodding politely at Madam Pince, who looked up from polishing the gilded cover of a large spellbook to give him the slightest of nods in return, as he was always polite and quite, a rarity in students.
'Knowing that chatterbox the word should spread through Hufflepuff like a plague.' Herwald muttered in amusement, a slight spring to his step as he moved through the halls 'If my estimates are right, then by the end of the week all this Heir nonsense will have dissolved and life will get back on track.'
"Guten Tag, Hagrid." He greeted, rounding the corner and smiling up at the half-giant, who was looking decidedly more mountainous as a result of the snow piled on top of his black woollen balaclava and moleskin overcoat "Another Rooster?"
"Second one killed this term…" the half-giant muttered grimly "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, an' I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop." He peered closer at Harry from under his thick, snow flecked eyebrows "Yeh're sure looking rather pleased, somethin' happen I should know about?"
"It's nothing." Herwald assured the man, chuckling in amusement "I'd best be heading on Hagrid. I've Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."
"Righ' Ye are…" Hagrid acknowledged, the two parting ways in the hall, Herwald moving to go down the stairs when he espied a familiar face lurking around the corner.
"You!" the alchemist in training yelped, gaping at the spectral Knight, who flinched, before floating backwards up the hall behind him "Wait!"
"Harry?" Hagrid asked, looking at the Einzbern in concern, but Herwald was already moving, racing up the stairs, intent on talking to Arturia's spectral doppelganger, so intent that when he was halfway down the passage, when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.
"Scheiße!" he swore, pushing himself up, looking around desperately but the ghost had once again pulled off a perfect escape "Verdammt! Who zur Hölle left this mop lying around? I swear if this was Peeves 's doing…!"
He trailed off, as his questing hand had touched what he'd tripped over, and it most certainly didn't feel like a mop handle. It was too thick for one, and covered in Hogwarts robes, Herald looking down to see Justin Finch-Fletchley lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
And he wasn't alone this time, for lying next to the boy, was Sir Nicholas 'Nearly Headless' de Mimsey-Porpington, the Gryffindor ghost's former transparent, pearly-white form now black and smoky, the Gryffindor Ghost floating immobile and horizontal six inches off the floor, his head was half off and his face, what little Herwald could make out anyway, frozen in an expression of shock that seemed almost identical to Justin's.
"Ignotus…" Herwald breathed, activating the Potter Ring instinctively and backing away from the bodies, well, one body and one spectre, his circuits primed and ready, though he winced at the slight pain that shot through them, as it seemed he hadn't recovered fully yet.
'Alright…come on you Schwein-Hund…' he muttered, popping his joints, his eyes flicking in all directions, including the oft-forgotten ceiling, only to blink as he espied a veritable stampede of spiders climbing over themselves to put some distance between them and the body, though his attention was soon diverted when the door right next to him slammed open, Herwald's invisible hand lashing out and grabbing his assumed attacker by the face, only to blink as he passed right through Peeves the Poltergeist, who pulled up short at the contact.
"Who's there?" he demanded, flipping round and glaring at the corridor suspiciously whilst upside down, only to freeze as he spotted Justin and Sir Nicholas, his little eyes bulging as he flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and screamed "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"
Herwald swore, ducking into the room Peeves had recently vacated, not bothering to close the door, as that would simply draw attention, even as door after door flew crashed open along the corridor, the occupants flooding out, the Einzbern looking on from the safety of a corner while they milled about in confusion, several of them stepping in Sir Nicholas only for McGonagall to come running, followed by her own class, the Deputy Headmistress setting off a loud bang from the end of her wand to restore silence to the corridor, ordering the students back to their classes.
No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene, his face going decidedly pale at the sight of his friend. "Oh Merlin he's struck again…" the portly Hufflepuff breathed, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he realized what the little prick was about to say "It's Potter, he was just in the library with us, he must've cornered Justin in the halls-!"
"That will do, Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply, silencing the boy and sending a decidedly cold look at Peeves, who was bobbing overhead, grinning wickedly, as the Poltergeist loved causing, and witnessing chaos "Peeves, go away before I fetch the Baron!"
"Spoilsport!" the Poltergeist muttered, blowing a raspberry at the woman before zooming down the hall backwards, disappearing around the corner and out of sight, while McGonagall ordered Ernie to make himself useful, summoning a fan and ordering the boy to get Sir Nicholas up the stairs, enlisting the aid of Professor's Flitwick and Sinistra to carry Justin up to the hospital wing, with Ernie bringing up the rear.
As the crowd buggers off...
Herwald stayed in the room until he was CERTAIN he wasn't about to run into anyone, after which time he made a point of walking out of the boy' bathroom on the other side of the castle, in plain view of several Hufflepuff seniors, and unnervingly, a certain Ravenclaw first year, so as to put himself as far from the crime scene as possible.
Not that this did much, as the double attack on Justin and Sir Nicholas had succeeded where the those on Mrs. Norris and Collin had failed, transforming the hitherto been nervousness that permeated the halls into honest to God panic. What made matters worse was that Sir Nicholas was a ghost, and as such shouldn't have been hurt by ANYTHING, yet somehow he'd been struck down with the same ailment as the other victims, though the Baron assured the Slytherin's he'd be back off his feet in no time.
Herwald, naturally, had thrown himself into his research into Slytherin's supposed monster with a little more focus now. After all, there were only so many creatures out there that could harm a ghost, Servants for example, were ghosts given flesh, but could revert to Spirit form at will with certain exceptions.
One of the few good things about the attack was that it pretty much emptied the school, the stampede of students looking to book seats on the Hogwarts Express almost overwhelming McGonagall, who in the end asked the other heads of house to pitch in.
"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Ron muttered, the group having gotten together in the Library, as usual, getting a head start n their Christmas assignments in order to focus on researching Slytherin's Monster and the Chamber later "What a jolly holiday it's going to be."
Herwald really could've cared less, that most of the students were leaving, as he was rapidly nearing the end of his patience thanks to their incessant skirting around him in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison, the groundless muttering and pointing whenever he passed, and the hisses they'd send towards his back in a bid to get a rise out of him, only serving to remind him that he STILL couldn't activate Parseltongue consciously.
Fortunately Fred and George proved quite adept at keeping the Einzbern from exploding, literally and figuratively, the twins having taken to marching ahead of him, shouting "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin!' and 'Seriously evil wizard coming through!' down the halls.
It was stupid, annoying, and childish, and Herwald was sure to get them back for it using Alchemy to turn a patch of water on their seats into syrup, the twins having to cut themselves free to escape the grand hall, and spent the rest of the day with their arses hanging out of the seat of their robes until they could be fixed.
Percy, naturally, was deeply disapproving of this behaviour, as was Ginny, who wailed every time the twins would jokingly ask Herwald who he was planning to attack next, all the while warding him off with various holy symbols and large cloves of garlic. Herwald found it all rather amusing, and a pleasant distraction. After all, had the twins NOT been around the Einzbern probably would have snapped ages ago.
At last, however, the winter term ended, a deep silence descending on the castle, along with thick, lazy clouds of snow that would have seemed Gloomy had Herwald not spent most of his life in the Einzbern Castle. As it was, he found the whole thing rather peaceful, the young Lord of Potter spending his time with Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, the Weasley's Neville and Hermione, playing games of Exploding Snap, the odd game of chess, and practicing their duelling skills, whenever they weren't in the library that is.
Time passed, and soon enough Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Herald received an alchemical primer from Draco, a thoughtful gift if there ever was one, almost as thoughtful as the deluxe broom-care kit he'd purchased for the boy to care for his Nimbus 2001. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Herwald softened by melting on the fire before sharing with the others, hoping the Groundskeeper enjoyed his barrel of mead, purchased once again thanks to Gringotts for a modest fee.
Ron had given him a book called Flying with the Cannons, a book of interesting facts about the redhead's favourite Quidditch team, while Herwald had bought the boy a signed, autographed photo of said team, signed 'To Ron', thanks in part to his own fame, and Gringotts once again. Judging by the boy's look of euphoria, he might as well have given him the moon.
Hermione had bought him a luxurious eagle-feather quill, while Herwald has supplied the girl with an old, well-preserved book on famous witches and the names they'd made for themselves. Neville seemed VERY pleased with the Herbology book he'd gotten the boy, so much so he felt guilty for only buying Herwald sweets.
Surprisingly, amongst his presents that year was a hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. Apparently, according to Fred and George, only close friends and Family rated a Weasley sweater, so he must have made quite the impression on the matriarch if she thought to include him amongst her own brood. He made a note to send her and Arthur a gift, possibly a book on Mundane appliances for Arthur, though he'd have to ask Percy what would be an acceptable present for his mother, as he doubted Ron would know, and he certainly wasn't going to ask the twins.
His gifts from home were no less appreciated either, consisting of more Manga from Shirou, a scarf from Sakura that clashed with his Weasley jumper, though he wore it anyway, another alchemical text from Rin, courtesy of her father's library, a perfectly preserved wind-up pocket watch from the Flamels, and a picture from Ilyasviel, showing her, 'Tiger' and Taiga posing in winter clothing on the woman's scooter, Leysritt pulling a nervous Sella into the shot.
As always, Christmas Dinner at Hogwarts was a sight to remember. The Great Hall looked magnificent, a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees lining the walls, with thick streamers of holly and mistletoe criss-crossing the ceiling, from which fell enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry to the touch, covering them like mountains of dandruff within seconds.
Dumbledore started the festivities off by leading them all through some of his favourite carols, Hagrid's booming voice growing increasingly louder with every goblet of mead-enhanced eggnog he consumed, while Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at.
Draco couldn't help making a crack at how his new sweater clashed with his scarf, but Herwald refused to rise to his friend's good-natured baiting, instead focussing on stuffing himself on Christmas pudding, his eyes briefly meeting those of Professor Snape, whose lip curled as he toasted him with his wineglass, the Potion's Master having apparently approved of his Christmas Present. Herwald was glad, as it had cost a pretty penny for him to get the Goblin's to bronze Lockhart's wand without asking too many questions, never mind the cost of getting them to make a stand and plaque to go with it.
His good mood was ruined however, when the post arrived, Draco's family owl dropping a letter which contained a clipping from the Daily Prophet, the Malfoy heir opening it, only to bite his lip at the contents, showing it to Herwald hesitantly.
Now is letter reading time!
INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.
"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."
Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.
Back to story bay-bees!
"I didn't know." Draco assured Herwald, who'd looked up at him with a frown "Father must have thought I'd get a kick out of it…I suppose I WOULD have if it weren't for everything that's happened."
Herwald nodded, folding up the article and handing it back to Draco, who made sure to burn it later, back in the safety of the common room. Had Herwald not befriended Draco in First Year, had he not patched things up with Ron, and had he not forced them together in order to save the Philosopher's Stone, who knew what the boys' relationship would've been like.
"He DID give me a little more information though." Draco admitted, eager to change the subject "About the last time the Chamber was opened? Apparently they caught the culprit last time. He didn't know who it was, or if he does he won't tell me, but he DID say the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled." He sighed bitterly "Knowing our luck they're probably still in Azkaban….if they're still alive."
"So a dead end either way." Herwald muttered bitterly, as he highly doubted the Wizarding Prison Warder would pass allow them to interview a suspected murderer, and while the old saying 'Dead Men Tell No Tales' wasn't necessarily true, what with Ghosts and Servants and the like running about, he doubted such a ghost would've stuck around long after passing on, and seeing as though this was the first many had heard of the Chamber, it was unlikely the former 'Heir' would ever rise as a Servant, as fame played a large role in the process.
Not that he was deterred, no sir. The old saying that the wall had eyes ran doubly true when there were ghosts in the halls after all.
Well, things are certainly getting a little more interesting.
Spy: But ov course.
Medic: A creature zat can kill ghosts? Zat would've been handy ven ze Horseless Headless Horsmann waz running around.