Kyugan: God almighty this one's been a long time coming hasn't it?
Spy: To be fair, we've been a bit busy of late.
Scout: Tell me about it (Kicking a robo-scout's head like a ball in the air) damn tin-can's are relentless.
Heavy: Metal men are no threat to team!
Kyugan: I'd be thanking Dell for that, Lord knows what it'd be like without his sentries taking up the flak.
Engineer: Ah heck, t'weren't nothin' pardner.
Spy: I, and my thankfully oil-free suit, say otherwise, labourer.
Kyugan: Yeah man, you rock. Now then, the Wheel of Fate is turning...Let's see what the latests Continuum Shift has wrought.
Chapter 17: The Heir of Slytherin.
Even with Mordred lighting the way, the journey through the caverns was not a pleasant one, the two passing the trip in grim.
It had nothing to do with the company, if anything Herwald was relieved to have Mordred with him, for one thing it meant he didn't have to waste Od reinforcing his eyes, as the light coming off the ghostly knight was more than enough to light the way, though part of him WAS concerned that it made it easier for whoever was ahead of them to see them coming.
It was a plausible concern, after all, the Basilisk had already revealed that its stare could work on ghosts just as easily as men. While Sir Nicholas' fate was not nearly so permanent as the one that had befallen Moaning Myrtle, neither Herwald nor Mordred wished to experience it for themselves.
And so they travelled in silence, Mordred slightly to the fore, as at the very least, if the Basilisk WAS lurking ahead, she would see it first, thus giving Herwald a chance to defend himself. It wasn't as if the King of Serpents could EAT the Ghost Knight, after all.
Just when Herwald was beginning to wonder if they'd taken a wrong turn, it wouldn't have surprised him if Slytherin had devised a maze to hide his chamber from explorers that stumbled across the entrance, they turned a corner to find themselves standing before what he at first assumed was a wall, which upon closer inspection bore two entwined serpents carved upon its surface, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.
"There is strong magic here…" Mordred muttered, her features grim as she glared at the serpents, as if their mere presence offended her in some way "OLD magic, I would say as old as the wards of this castle."
"This is it then." Herwald deduced, the alchemist taking a breath to steady himself, before stepping forward, his eyes locked on the snakes, shivering as their emerald eyes seemed to look back at him, as if they were more than mere carvings set with jewels. "Open." He ordered, not with the Ring of Kay, nor was it in German, the words instead exiting is mouth as a stream of incomprehensible hisses that drew a quirked brow from Mordred.
Before the fallen Knight could comment, however, the serpents hissed in reply, the pair looking on as the wall cracked open, the halves sliding smoothly out of sight as the two unlikely comrades stepped forward to find themselves standing at the end of a long chamber, dimly lit by emerald flames. Towering stone pillars, entwined with more carved serpents, rose to support a ceiling that rose beyond the light of the flames, casting long, black, serpentine shadows throughout the chamber.
The air was still and heavy with the dust of ages, but even so, Herwald could FEEL the magic radiating throughout the walls. It was old, ancient even, and powerful, dear lord it was powerful, and even as he felt it wash over him, he knew instinctively what he'd found.
"Gott im Himmel…" he breathed, the adopted Einzbern rendered all but mute by the sheer overwhelming feeling of power and wonderment that was washing over him like a rising tide "I had my suspicions…but I never dreamed…"
"What is it?" Mordred enquired, the spectral knight turning to regard her young ally, the look of guarded concern in her eyes a carbon copy for the look her sire had sent may a time towards Shirou as Herwald took another hesitant step into the chamber "Is something wrong?"
"Wrong? Wrong?" Herwald repeated, looking at the Knight as if she were mad, his wits recovering somewhat at her concern "Mordred, this isn't just some chamber Slytherin built to spite the other founders." he breathed, gesturing towards the chamber walls in excitement "This is Slytherin's WORKSHOP."
A workshop was the magical laboratory of a Magus, the place where they would retire to perform their research and experiments. It was, essentially, the place where all advances in magical research were carried out, the home of countless successes and failures, where miracles could quickly lead to catastrophe, and where dreams could be made and shattered.
Any self-respecting Magus had a workshop, an experienced Magus had more than one, Nicholas and Perenelle, for example, had created the Philosopher's stone at their old home at 51 Rue de Montmorency in Paris, but had dismantled the workshop when they'd been forced to flee to protect their research.
Even Shirou, as inept as he'd been prior to the Grail War, had used his father's old shed as a workshop in order to train himself in Kiritsugu's bastardised teachings. Since coming under Rin's tuition however, the Tohsaka heir had given him permission to use her own workshop, another thing she'd inherited from her father, an act that held more meaning to a Magus than it appeared, more intimate than if she'd invited the redhead to join her in bed, as redundant as such an invitation may be given their current relationship.
That being said, it went without saying that the act of stepping into the workshop of a Magus without their express permission was considered the epitome of rudeness, worse than any other act of outright hostility. Even if the Magus had been long since dead, as Salazar Slytherin undoubtedly was, touch wood, entering their workshop without permission was a crime many a Magus had lost their life for.
Such was the case now, for even as Herwald lost himself in admiring the structure of the chamber, he could not help but feel as if he was being watched, as if countless accusing eyes were glaring at him, affronted by his very presence in this most hallowed of grounds.
"We should tread carefully…" Mordred opined, the fallen knight's features hardening, her entire demeanour changing at the revelation of where they now stood, eyeing the serpentine columns warily, half expecting to spot the Basilisk lurking behind them, waiting to strike "If this is indeed the workshop of a Magus, then it is likely filled with traps."
"Speaking from experience?" Herwald enquired, snapping out of his awestruck state at the Knights words, kicking himself for losing control so easily. Even if this WAS the academic find of the century, that didn't mean he wasn't in any less danger. If anything, he was in even MORE danger than before, for a Magus as old and powerful as Salazar Slytherin wouldn't have left his chamber guarded solely by a Basilisk.
"Morgan…that Witch," Mordred corrected, grimacing at her mother's name "Had several such protections around her own workshop." her eye twitched at some uncomfortable memory "Part of my training prior to knighthood involved surpassing them without setting them off."
"That can't have been fun." Herwald muttered, grimacing at the idea. After all, legends spoke of Morgan's cruelty and treachery against Arturia, how she'd stolen Excalibur's sheathe, making the King of Knight's vulnerable to injury, and how she'd played the Knights of the Round against one another, all to put her own son on the throne. Given that, it didn't take a genius to deduce her idea of 'tutelage' wouldn't have been gentle.
"It was not." Mordred muttered, her features grim as she continued to eye the walls, armoured hands gripping the pommel of her sword "However, it has given me a good understanding of what to expect from Magi of her Calibre. Rest assured, I shall allow no harm befall you."
Herwald said nothing, merely inclining his hand in thanks, his wand slipping into his right hand even as he clenched the fingers of his left. Against a magical creature like the basilisk, he doubted destruction Alchemy would do much good. Unlike a troll, which while magical possessed no natural armour, the basilisk, like a dragon, was covered in thick, magically resistant scales. Even the shed skin he'd examined in the tunnels retained its ability, it was no wonder that potion's masters sought the stuff so passionately. Ingredients aside, they made some of the best gloves aside from Dragon-Hide.
'My best bet would be to blind it and then use Alchemy to trap it.' He muttered, taking in the terrain, trying to predict how the course of the battle would go. It wasn't looking very good, in his honest opinion, for while a Basilisk wasn't on the same level as a Dragon, or even a Servant, they were still dangerous enough that any sane Magus knew to avoid them like a sealing designation.
As they advanced further into the chamber, Mordred's eyes tracking the walls for hidden runes and false pave-stones, they took notice of a statue at the end of the chamber, a massive monolith as high as the Chamber itself, Herwald actually having to reinforce his eyes against the dim light to peer up at its face, which was ancient, reminiscent of a monkey's, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the carved stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood bare on the smooth Chamber floor.
"Salazar Slytherin…" he muttered, and for a moment, the air in the chamber seemed to grow all the more oppressive, only for his attention to turn to a small, black-robed figure lying face down at the statues feet, a figure with flaming-red hair "Frau Weasley!" He exclaimed, letting out a curse as he sprinted towards her, Mordred at his side, the fallen knight taking up a guard position over the pair as Herwald dropped to his knees beside Ron's Sister, picking her up in his arms and turning her over, revealing a face as white as marble and as cold to the touch.
"Scheiße…" He swore, pressing his fingers to the girl's neck, fighting the urge to flinch at the feel of her cold, clammy skin, only to sigh in relief as he felt a faint pulse "She's alive." He muttered, more to himself than for Morded's benefit "Barely, it's weak but she still has a pulse."
"Has she been bitten?" Mordred asked, the Knight's features hard as she glanced down at the small, fragile form of the redhead, clearly angered at her suffering even as Herwald checked the girl for bite marks, only to turn up nothing "Then it is some other, magical ailment that afflicts her."
"You are correct, Lady Knight." A soft voice agreed, the pair whipping round, Herwald placing Ginny behind him, Mordred's blade drawn in a flash of silver as they turned to face the sound of the voice, eyes narrowing as they spotted someone leaning against a pillar nearby, where no-one had been before "Hello again, Herwald von Einzbern…or should I call you Harry Potter?"
At the feet of Salazar...
Herwald grimaced, not at being caught off guard, though that played a factor, but rather at the use of his birth name, as no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't get used to it. After all, if Dobby's speech was any indication, then 'Harry Potter' was the Wizarding World's 'Hero', the 'Chosen One', and as History was wont to prove, 'Chosen Ones' tended to have a lot of shit heaved on their plate.
So it was understandable that he'd want to distance himself from that life, so far as he was concerned, the only things he had in common with Harry Potter was the scar on his head and their mother's eyes, and even THAT was a stretch, as he'd always considered Irisviel to be his mother in spirit, if not in blood.
Fighting down his irritation, he turned his attention to the figure leaning against the wall. He was tall, but not a man grown, as was apparent from the Green Slytherin uniform he wore beneath his school robes. There was no mistaking those features, Herwald had only seen them once, but even in the dim light, and despite the fact they seemed blurred around the edges, there was no mistaking that face.
"Hello Tom." He greeted, his tone genial, though he maintained his grip on his wand nonetheless, his emerald eyes never leaving the apparition's "I must say you've certainly aged well."
It was a question just as much as a compliment, and justly so, for despite the fact that Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, the figure before them couldn't have been older than sixteen at the offset, even if his handsome features made him appear older.
"Who are you?" Mordred demanded, scowling at the youth accusingly "Or rather, WHAT are you?" she corrected, which Herwald felt was a more accurate question, for the being before them certainly wasn't a ghost, the colouration and the fact he was standing on the floor were proof of this alone, not to mention the fact he appeared to be casting a shadow.
"A memory." Riddle replied, his voice soft, echoing quietly in the otherwise silent chamber, his eyes never leaving Herwald's as he spoke, a strange sort of HUNGER emanating from them "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."
He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes, Herwald's eyes narrowing as he followed the gesture to see Riddle's diary lying open at Slytherin's stone feet. "Tom." the adopted Einzbern muttered, his voice soft, like the sound of a dagger drawn from a silken sheath as he glanced away from the deceptively innocent looking paperback "Was there anyone else with Ginny when she came down here?"
"Perhaps…" Riddle consented, a small smile curling the corners of the apparition's mouth as he continued to stare at the Einzbern like a cat, his eyes dancing with dark amusement that made Herwald's fists itch.
"Answer the question boy!" Mordred demanded, the knight scowling at the self-proclaimed 'memory', clearly not appreciating being ignored "This is no time for games, there is a monstrous serpent on the loose and at any moment-!"
"It won't come until it is called." Riddle cut in calmly, his eyes never leaving Herwald's even as the Einzbern's narrowed "I must say it's nice to speak with you again Harry. It rather hurt when you stopped writing." His smile broadened "I'd been looking forward to it for so long after all, and now we've all the time in the world."
"How did Ginny get like this?" Herwald demanded, his eyes never leaving Riddle's as he positioned himself so that Ginny was directly behind him, and thus less likely to be targeted should anything attack him from the fore or sides.
"Really now Harry," Riddle chuckled, his voice coy "our first chat in ages and you want to talk about girls?" he shook his head when Herwald refused to rise to his baiting "Oh well, I suppose it's an understandable question, I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."
"You, in other words." Herwald countered, his eyes hard as he continued to eye the memory from behind Mordred, the Knight's features unreadable "She was the one who tried to flush you, wasn't she?"
"Very good, Harry." Riddle applauded, looking pleased of all things "Yes indeed, little Ginny's been writing in my diary for months now, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes." His lips curled in a mocking sneer "How her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second hand robes and books." His eyes glanced back to Herwald, who fought the urge to shiver at the almost hungry expression in them. "How she didn't think the famous, good looking, great Harry Potter would ever like her..."
"Sounds like a typical girl's diary to me." Herwald noted offhandedly, though internally he was cursing his fame , or rather, the whole 'Boy Who Lived' thing and the idiots behind it in every language he knew "I never took you to be a voyeur, Tom. Don't you know a woman's secrets are not to be told so flippantly?"
"Please." Riddle scoffed, looking disgusted, "Do you have any idea how boring it was? Having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl?" he shook his head and continued "But I was patient, I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me." He put on a false voice "No one's ever understood me like you, Tom…I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in…It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…"
"ENOUGH!" Mordred snarled, the ghost's face lined with anger as she pointed her silvery sword at the memory's face, even as Riddle broke out into mocking laughter, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit his handsome features one bit "What have you done to her?"
"Nothing at all, Lady Knight." Riddle replied mockingly, his tone as condescending as the look he sent her way "I was merely my usual, charming self, and so Ginny poured out her soul to me…" and here his smile grew terrible, twisting his features into something more appropriate for that awful laugh "And indeed, her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley, powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"
"Possession, you mean…" Herwald muttered, his lips pursed in a scowl as he regarded the memory before him coldly "No…more like a combination of Transference of Consciousness and Mental Interference."
Transference of Consciousness was the art of transmitting one's consciousness into another object, usually a familiar, in order to acquire information from a different perspective whilst controlling them at distance. It was a Magecraft that the Einzbern were particularly proficient with, enough so that Illyasviel had once played a prank on him by placing his consciousness into one of her dolls.
However, the downside of this Magecraft is that if the target was already in possession of a soul and personality, the control of the target's body would remain theirs, not to mention the fact that if the Magus' own body was disturbed the spell would immediately cancel, a safety precaution, as no matter how complete the transference was, once the body of the Magus died their consciousness would fade away with it.
Mental Interference, on the other hand, was Magecraft specifically designed to have an effect on the target's mind. A prime Example was the Imperious Curse, one of the Unforgivable three, which would subvert the target's will to the caster's. Lesser, but by no means less effective examples would be the Memory Erasing 'Obliterate' or the Mind-Reading 'Legilimens' spells.
"As expected of someone raised by the Einzbern family." Riddle applauded, smiling in sinister approval "Indeed, it took very little effort at all, once she'd let me into her heart. After that, it was simply a matter of coaching her along."
"What do you mean?" Mordred demanded, the knight's grip on her sword tightening to the point Herwald would've expected it to make a noise had the blade been corporeal even as he spoke up.
"It was you, wasn't it." He deduced, his tone accusing as he glared at the memory of his Slytherin predecessor "You're the heir of Slytherin from fifty years ago." His eyes hardened "You framed Hagrid to cover your tracks."
"As expected of a fellow Slytherin," Riddle applauded, looking pleased at the Einzbern's deductions "Truly, great minds think alike. Indeed, the great oaf made a most perfect patsy for my plans, what with his bringing an Acromantula into the castle." He scowled at the memory of the beast's escape "I'll admit it would've been better to catch the beast itself, but in hindsight letting it escape proved a boon, as I could work in Hagrid's defence of the thing into my accusations."
"Not to mention the fact that had they caught the Acromantula, they could have dismissed your accusations as false?" Herwald pointed out, earning a sharp look from the memory "Acromantula do not paralyse their prey with their vision, they use their venom, which leaves a distinctive mark which your victims lacked."
"Slytherin truly is the house of the cunning." Riddle marvelled, a mocking smile on his lips as he shook his head "Still, not that it mattered really, after all, it was Hagrid's word against mine, and as you can imagine, that didn't turn out very well for him at all." He held up a hand, palm up "Imagine how it must appeared to Armando Dippet: On the one hand, Tom Marvolo Riddle, poor but brilliant, parent-less but so brave, school prefect, model student." He held up the other hand "On the other, big, blundering Hagrid. In trouble every other week, caught trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls..."
As Riddle Rants...
Herwald said nothing, though internally he was rolling his eyes, as that sounded EXACTLY like something Hagrid would do. It seemed getting expelled hadn't done anything to curb the Groundskeeper's love of all things dangerous, if anything he'd grown MORE daring, if last year's attempt to raise a Dragon in his wooden hut was any indication.
"I'll admit even I was surprised how well the plan worked." Riddle continued, apparently in love with the sound of his own brilliance "I thought someone would realize Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin." He sneered "After all, it took me five whole years of dedicated research to uncover everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets, never mind the time it took to discover the secret entrance." he shook his head with a laugh "As if Hagrid had the brains to do such a thing, or the power!"
"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent." he muttered, his good humour vanishing at the mention of the Supreme Mugwump "He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper." he shook his head with a sigh of annoyance, his look of annoyance souring further with each word "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, he never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did…he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled, so I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school."
"So that's when you decided to put your soul into the diary?" Herwald asked, earning a sharp look from Riddle "Oh don't look at me like that Tom, if I were you, and I stumbled across Slytherin's Chamber, I certainly wouldn't be content to sit back on my laurels wasting my time."
"Indeed." Riddle agreed, a hint of approval in his tone as he picked up speed again "You're quite right, Harry, I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. And so I preserved my sixteen-year-old self within the pages of my diary, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."
"There never was another 'Heir of Slytherin'." Herwald proclaimed, his voice cold and to the point, his eyes glinting like living emeralds "You used Ginny as a medium."
"Used?" Riddle repeated, scoffing curtly, his eyes glinting with dark humour "Hardly, it was Ginny Weasley who opened the Chamber of Secrets, it was Ginny who strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls in their blood. It was Ginny who set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods and the Squib's cat."
His smile grew mocking, and Herwald had to suppress a shiver at how close the expression came to mirroring that of the late Kotomine Kirei, the depraved Priest and former Overseer of the 5th Grail War, who had only been able to feel joy at the expense of the suffering of others, whose sole purpose for over ten years was to bring Angra Mainyu into the world, prepared to let the world burn simply to answer whatever questions tormented his twisted soul.
"Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first." Riddle continued, his words banishing Kirei's image from Herwald's sight "It was very amusing, I wish you could have seen her new diary entries… how far more interesting, they became."
"Dear Tom," he recited, putting on the mocking fake voice again "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there." he sneered as Mordred's grip on her sword began to tremble "Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me…There was another attack today and I don't know where I was." he began to chuckle as the knight bared her teeth "Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad… I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!'"
"FIEND!" Mordred snarled, the knight lunging forwards, spectral blade swinging round as if to cleave Riddle's head from his shoulders, only to pass harmlessly through, the elder Slytherin's features set in a mocking sneer as the fallen knight seethed at him in anger.
"That won't do any good." Riddle taunted "A ghost's weapon cannot harm the flesh of the living, and thanks to the amount of magic I've been draining from the girl, I'll soon be able to take on a corporeal form."
"You monster…!" Mordred hissed, her resemblance to Arturia all the more evident as she bared her teeth at the memory, Herwald shivering as, for a fleeting moment, the image of a roaring dragon crossed his vision, only to be replaced with Mordred once more, the fallen knight shaking her blade at Riddle's face, for all the good it would do "Mark my words parasite, by by father's name I shall see you pay for this!"
"Oh do shut up woman." Riddle scoffed, dismissing the Knight, with nary a thought, ignoring her look of outrage as he turned his full attention back to Herwald, who schooled his features into a mask of calm "Still, I suppose I should give the girl SOME credit." he admitted, glancing at Ginny's form with a hint of disdain "She finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of the diary, only for YOU to stumble across it by chance." He smiled hungrily "And I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…"
"Sorry, but I'm afraid any rumours about me handing out signed photographs are untrue." Herwald quipped, smirking to himself as both Riddle and Mordred blinked at him in confusion, though in Mordred's case it was probably more to do with not knowing what a photograph was "And while I'll admit I find your persistence flattering, I'm afraid I simply don't swing that way."
"What the devil are you talking about?" Riddle demanded, scowling at the youth, his features torn between confusion and annoyance even as Mordred's eyes narrowed, wondering what her ally was getting at.
"Look, Tom, I understand where you're coming from." Herwald quipped, putting on his best 'understanding' expression as he spoke "You were stuck in that book for over fifty years, all alone, no-one to talk to, then along comes Ginny with her tales of wonder and excitement and political propaganda, so you decided to reach out and test the waters…"
"THAT'S NOT IT!" Riddle snapped, his features laced with anger and revulsion, and a fair hint of embarrassment if his atomic blush was any indication, the memory glaring over his shoulder at Mordred, who had thrown her head back with a whoop of laughter at Herwald's trick "SHUT YOUR MOUTH WOMAN!"
"Now, now. No need to feel ashamed, Tom." Herwald assured the memory suppressing the urge to snicker with all his might, Mordred showing no such restraint and was nearly doubled over with laughter "After all, it can have been much fun, being all alone, nothing but memories to keep you company, you probably just wanted someone to connect to…"
"Shut up!" Riddle snarled, racing forwards, his hands outstretched as if to throttle the smaller teen, only to choke as Herwald's foot caught him in the stomach, the memory doubling over, allowing Herwald to grab the elder boy by his collar and hurl him over his shoulder in a perfect Judo throw, the elder Slytherin landing hard on his back.
"That's the problem with a corporeal body." Herwald opined, the Einzbern kneeing on Riddle's chest, his wand aimed right at the winded memory's face "Pain comes as part of the package." He scowled at the elder Slytherin "Now then, why don't you tell me how to reverse the effect?"
"You can't." Riddle countered, his scowl of anger shifting into a mocking sneer as he stared up at the younger Slytherin "So long as the Diary exists, my soul will continue to feed on hers, and so long as my soul exists within the pages, it cannot be destroyed." He sneered at the younger bow "What will you do now, Harry Potter?"
"You seem to think we're at an impasse." Herwald noted, tightening his grip on Riddle's neck, which was satisfyingly corporeal, as the elder boy's discomforted expression made all too clear "And in a sense, you're right, because if the girl dies, then you die, horribly and slowly." He smirked, "However, even if your soul returns to the diary afterwards, you'll have no means of protecting yourself, and while my alchemy might not be able to destroy it, I can guarantee Professor Dumbledore will know a few tricks."
"You think I fear Dumbledore?" Riddle hissed, though Herwald was pleased to see a flash of panic in the memory's eyes at the man's name "That doddering old lemon sucker's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!"
"He's due back any day now." Herwald countered "And before I came down here, I gave instructions for Myrtle, the ghost of the girl you killed, to alert the rest of the staff as to the location of the Chamber." He smirked at the look of shock on the elder teen's face "I imagine Hagrid's gotten some new roosters in by now, if not, I dare say they can conjure a few up on the spot." He smirked at the memory "The acoustics in here should ensure that, no matter where your little pet may hide, there's no chance in hell it won't hear it."
"Speak to me!" Riddle hissed, literally, a string of otherwise insensible spits and hisses that sounded like something one would hear just before experiencing a sharp, stinging bite on the leg, emerging from the teen's mouth amidst a hail of spittle "Slytherin! Greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"
Herwald swore, punching Riddle in the throat to cut off the hissing even as he knew it was far too late, the Einzbern rolling off the choking teen to glance up at Slytherin's statue, emerald eyes narrowing as the stone mouth slowly opened, wider and wider, revealing a huge black hole from which a sound could be heard, a soft, yet ominous sound that set the hair on his body on edge.
The sound of something large slithering up from its depths, the sound of scales slithering across rock.
The Basilisk was coming.
Hopefully you all got a good laugh this chapter, Lord only knows Mordred did.
Heavy: DOHOHO-That slaps me on the knee!
Spy: *Nasal Snorting* Ahahahaha-!
Scout: Oh Man! He got OWNED!
Demo: DOMINATED!
Sniper: Now there's just the ruddy snake to worry about.
Kyugan: Indeed. How will Herwald handle the King of Serpents? Will Mordred be able to take out her anger on something soon?
You'll have to wait till next time to find up!
Admin: ALERT! ALERT! ANOTHER WAVE HAS BEGUN!
Soldier: DAMMIT! All Right Maggots! To your posts!
Engineer: Move-em out!
Kyugan: Hey heavy? (Tosses him a wrapped package) Got something for ya.
Heavy: Vas is das? (Heavy is unwrapping package to the sound of Zelda chest opening music) OOH!
DA-DA-DA-BZZZT!
Engineer: Spy-Bot Sappin' our Internet connection!
Heavy: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-!