Author's note: MasterQwertster has graciously accepted to be my beta for this story. Thanks to her efforts, chapters 1 and 2 of The Odds were never in my favour have been corrected and improved. Don't hesitate to thank her!
Warning: This chapter has a lot of violence, blood and death.
Chapter 39
The Blood of Slytherin
Battle for the Chamber of Secrets Part I
11 April 1993, Hogwarts, Scotland
The Bombardment Charm had never been remarked by the Wizarding World as a tool of subtlety. It was loud. It was noisy. The explosions it created tended to generate a considerable amount of rubble and splinters, a fact which often made it as dangerous for its user as it was for the target. It was the very definition of collateral damage, especially when one magician added the 'Maxima' variant.
It was however a very efficient manner to crush lightly warded obstacles and surprise armed opponents in their own lair.
"Bombarda!" exclaimed the green-eyed Ravenclaw. The lack of hesitation and a large security distance proving beyond doubt the last Potter was very well aware of these specific Charm drawbacks.
The door of the DADA office did not resist the explosion. One moment there was a door. The next there was a huge hole sufficient for a very tall man to enter. On a scale from one to ten, this level of protection was frankly a bit underwhelming.
Perhaps a two? I knew the Professors have to assure their own security for their private quarters, but for it to be that bad...
The occupier of the room did not see it that way of course, given his shocked face. The astonishment did not last. With reflexes completely at odds with his buffoon persona, the man tried to seize his wand on his deck.
Oh, no. You don't.
"Naturae Incarcerous!"
A mass of creepers emerged from Alexandra's wand and forced without any gentleness the adult against the back of his chair. Efforts to grab the wand on the desk were futile, as the enchantment added more and more liana out of nowhere. To her right, Nigel's spell stuck the feet of the Professor to the purple carpet. The hands were unable to use any magical focus, given that they were tied behind the man's back. Soon nothing but the head was left uncovered by the magical bindings. Unless the wizard was able to do wandless magic, he was at their mercy.
"Good evening, Professor Lockhart," said cheerfully Alexandra entering in the office she had just slightly damaged. Well, perhaps more than slightly. The desk and the walls were going to need generous incantations of Mending Charms.
"Miss Potter." To his credit, Gilderoy Lockhart's voice was only trembling after Alexandra's rapid assault. "I wasn't expecting you this afternoon."
"It would have kind of defeated the purpose of a surprise visit, no?" asked rhetorically the black-haired witch. The blonde wizard answered by just a curt grunt. It wasn't like he could do anything else, the liana surrounding him were solidly ensuring a 'no escape' clause.
"I think it's time we talk."
Her tone had been cordial, but clearly Lockhart saw something in her eyes he didn't like, because his egoistical personality failed to resurface.
"You don't intend to give me the choice, do you?" sighed the famous author.
The young witch frowned. It was nice to see her suspicions confirmed, but honestly Alexandra had expected a long tirade of how Gilderoy Lockhart was a priceless gem of Magical Britain, to release him and everything would be forgotten. She had not expected such a...resigned tone.
"Of course I will give you a choice! We're in a democracy or so I heard." Alexandra could not help but snicker as Nigel burst in laughter behind Lockhart. "Who do you think I am?"
The Ravenclaw girl had posed this question with a sarcastic tone, but it did not stop Gilderoy Lockhart from answering.
"You are a young witch who has a huge magical potential and a severe mental problem."
Alexandra narrowed her eyes at the supposed 'fraud' in front of her. For a man renowned to have the intelligence of the average sheep, Gilderoy Lockhart's retort had been rather short...and disturbingly accurate.
Well I do still have nightmares of all the people I've seen die and the Summon pursuing me once per week. Does that mean I'm crazy?
"Possible." The Potter Heiress rolled her shoulders in feigned amusement. "But I would argue I'm still one of the sanest persons at Hogwarts."
Whoever Lockhart really was under his fake persona, the wizard didn't share this point of view.
"Miss Potter, when the asylum is run by the inmates, that isn't as much of a consolation as you think."
Inwardly, Alexandra winced. Describing Hogwarts as an asylum wasn't the description she would have chosen. Dictatorship and place of learning for pure-blood bigots was a far more disturbing assessment.
If everyone was crazy in the non-magical definition of the term, I think we would have far less problems...
"This is your opinion and you're entitled to it." The wand with the heartstring of hydra rolled without a conscious thought in her left hand. "Are you ready to answer my questions or should I call the DMLE?"
"Pose them, young Lady."
The reply was pronounced in a formal manner unlike what the green-eyed witch had heard before, and Alexandra filed it away in her mind. She would have to ask Morag for clarifications later when her friend was not petrified anymore.
"Who are you working for?"
The posture of the defeated Professor somewhat relaxed...relatively. A man as bound as he was on his chair was not allowed a lot of freedom to move.
"Confidential. If I told you, I would have to kill you afterwards."
This sentence was spoken in a half-dramatic tone, which would have been a bit more impressive if the DADA teacher was not looking like a big tuna caught in several fishermen's net. Nevertheless, the Ravenclaw girl and the Gryffindor boy each pointed their wands in direction of their teacher's heart.
"Very funny." Alexandra paused, before concentrating a bit and emitting livid blue sparks at the point of her wand. "Is it the ICW? The Death Eaters? A foreign government? The Exchequer?"
In the days after, Alexandra would kick herself to have added the last name to the list of his potential employers. The accent, the background, everything Lockhart had shown them of himself during this year was completely different from the unlamented Professor Devkins. There was no reason why the 'Wizarding hero Lockhart' would have even heard of a name which had no historical references. Their little group was only aware of it because they had stolen the Junior DADA teacher's files last year.
But as she saw the paling face of the bound wizard, the Potter Heiress knew the name meant something to him.
"How in the name of Merlin have you heard that name?"
A Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff perhaps would have told the truth. That said, if Ravenclaw House had told Alexandra something, it was that knowledge was important...and not to be distributed for free.
As a result, the curt answer was: "I have my sources."
"You have no idea the forces you're treading with, Miss Potter." The tone employed by Professor Lockhart was not fearful, but it appeared to be the next best thing to it.
"Would you consider then, helping me understand?"
The wand pointed right between the teacher's eyes made sure it was not a suggestion. Clearing his throat, the wizard who had pretended to be a buffoon for several months explained in a concise manner.
"The Exchequer is a mercenary organisation selling their services to various Dark Lords and other ambitious witches and wizards worldwide. Officially, no ICW-affiliated country or individual with morals will hire them or recognise their existence. For the common wizard and witch, they simply don't exist. They are a group of shadows, impossible to track or to identify. Unofficially...desperate leaders and outlaws with deep pockets are their meeting grounds."
"Their price?" The voice of Nigel was back to his hesitant-self, like in the former situation of trouble they had faced. The retort from the owner of the Order of Merlin Third Class was not endearing either.
"If you manage to find out how and where to contact them, you can probably afford their services." There was not a trace of the smile having won several awards and beauty contests when Lockhart paused. The look he sent Alexandra had nothing warm in it. "How you are even aware of this name, I can't imagine..."
Well, fair was fair. The fake fraud had answered her question after all. Neither Alexandra nor Nigel had any Veritaserum in their pockets, so these were the best revelations they were going to get. Assuming this was not a pack of lies of course. Granted, this did not contradict what their little group had discovered...
But we knew next to nothing so it's not exactly a big achievement. On the other hand...
"One of their agents was here last year," revealed the twelve-year old witch.
"I see."The reply of Gilderoy Lockhart was almost...meditative. "I won't ask what you did to be involved in this mess, but I would advise to stay far away from this organisation. The Exchequer's goals are certainly to target Dumbledore."
"How so?" Not that Alexandra had a problem with them targeting the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but as there was currently no living Dark Lord in Britain, she didn't see why an intervention against the leader of the Wizengamot would be asked.
"Will you swear an Oath of Silence?"
Alexandra sighed. She understood the precautions of the Magical World, but at the rhythm she swore oaths this year, there were going to be contradictory issues by the time she celebrated her fifteenth birthday.
"Yes."
"By the titbits of news I was given...there is conclusive evidence that the Dark Lord Grindelwald was a close associate of their organisation."
Grindelwald. Of course it always came back to him. That was a name Alexandra heard far too often when past crimes and monstrous experiments were discussed. The worst Dark Lord of the century, a master of darkness ten times more destructive and vicious than Voldemort and his Death Eaters and now she learned he had links with the Exchequer. Why had life to be so complicated?
"He is imprisoned at Nurmengard. Sentenced to the hell he himself created."
Lockhart shortly nodded.
"The Exchequer perhaps abandoned him or decided to cut their losses and retreat back to the shadows. Difficult to say when nobody outside their organisation truly knows their goals and their resources."
"Which make us come back to my first question. Who are you working for, Professor Lockhart? Assuming it's your real name, of course."
After seeing Polyjuice in action with the Gryffindors, Alexandra wasn't ready to take anything for granted when it came with the weirdness of the DADA teachers.
"I am Gilderoy Lockhart. Ravenclaw alumni, I received seven OLWS and four NEWTS during my Hogwarts scholarship from 1975 to 1982."
The green-eyed witch snorted.
"Reading the Hogwarts archives told me the same information. For all we know the real Gilderoy Lockhart is dead and you took his place."
"Fine." The blue eyes of Lockhart were a bit miffed at not being taken at his word. "Your mother saved me in October 1976 from a gang of bullies led by Evan Rosier."
That was new Alexandra figured, and indeed had not been available on any record or piece of paper.
"I won't pretend I knew her at all," said the DADA teacher, apologising in advance. "I was a Ravenclaw of the younger years and she was a Gryffindor on her way to becoming Head Girl. But I remember the eyes, the same green eyes..."
"The eyes I have." It was a familiar refrain repeated by a lot of wizards and witches she met.
"Yes. Your eyes. She was also widely recognised as one of the brightest witches having come to Hogwarts. I think she took seven NEWTS in her final exams and achieved 'Outstanding' in all of them. Her talent and intelligence were a massive slap in the face to the pure-blood snobs of Slytherin."
For an instant, Gilderoy Lockhart appeared lost in the midst of his past, before reintegrating the unpleasant present where he was tied to his chair.
"So few wizards and witches remember her today. What a pity."
Nigel opened his mouth to open a new question just as the magically boosted voice of the Head of Gryffindor echoed throughout Hogwarts.
"All students are to return to their dormitories at once. All teachers are to return to their staff room. Immediately, please."
The adult and the two students in the Defence office cursed rather violently after that declaration.
"A new attack."
"We all knew it was coming, Nigel." The auburn-haired boy's grimace was all the confession that he had expected their worst-case scenarios to be pessimistic and alarmist.
"Free me," affirmed Lockhart all a sudden.
"Why? For you to flee the castle as soon as we have our backs turned?" asked derisively his Ravenclaw student. If as a spy Lockhart wanted to continue his cover of hero-fraud, this was the time to take his legs and run towards the Hogwarts gates.
"You expect me to run?"
Alexandra and Nigel could not find a decent answer to this in mere words, but the Potter Heiress hoped that the two glares they sent at the fake-fraud was sufficiently intimidating to convey the message.
"And in your educated opinion, what would be the correct course of action?"
"Go to the staff room and explain to Professor McGonagall what you have learnt." The blonde-haired wizard was visibly trying his best to sound convincing in his tied position. "You certainly look like you have a plan to deal with the Monster of Salazar Slytherin."
"We have," confirmed Alexandra. "But I also know that our dear acting-Headmistress has committed a huge strategic error. You don't announce your intentions to the enemy."
Seriously, the opinion the Potter Heiress had of their acting-Headmistress was close to zero at the moment. Professor McGonagall was unable or unwilling to handle her job of controlling the Gryffindors. She was not doing anything concerning pranks or bullying, not even when it became actively malicious. The Head of Gryffindor had not said anything when these sad excuses of Aurors were doing anything but their jobs. And now she had announced in a magical megaphone she was completely overwhelmed by the turn of events and left her meeting wide open for an ambush of the enemy.
And they wondered why the Light was losing the last war before the Longbottom miracle.
"You assume the Monster is able to deal with all the Professors at the same time."
"The Monster hidden in the Chamber of Secrets is a Basilisk backed by at least half a dozen elder Slytherins. In your opinion is one of the Professors able to deal with it before being turned to stone?"
This time Alexandra honestly regretted that Colin Creevey had been one of the first petrifaction victims. His camera would have been perfect to catch the unbelievable spectacle of their Defence Professor staring at them his mouth wide open. It was so comical the black-haired girl missed the two words coming out of the blonde-haired wizard 's mouth in a whisper.
"I'm afraid I've not heard what you said."
"I said free me, I will help you fight the Heir. However in case I don't survive this you will ensure my trunks are repatriated to this address." And the not-so-idiotic wizard recited in a rapid sentence the address of a house near Oxford. Certainly a safehouse for whoever he was spying for at Hogwarts.
"That can be arranged." Said Alexandra, though she didn't promise the trunks would not be opened and searched for important information first. Fake or not, Gilderoy Lockhart had not answered the important question of where his loyalties laid.
Twirling her wand, Alexandra cast a quick series of Diffindo on the vegetal ropes binding her adult prisoner. Grabbing his wand on the desk, she threw it to him. There was nothing clumsy or frivolous in the manner Lockhart caught the magical piece of wood, the wizard had evidently excellent reflexes and coordination.
"Oh, and Professor?"
"Yes, Miss Potter?"
"If you betray me, I will ensure personally that your death will make you regret not being devoured by the Basilisk. Understood?"
"Crystal clear," replied the blonde fake-fraud. In the best interests of his continued survival, Alexandra hoped he wasn't lying. Because after what had happened so far this year, she wasn't joking at all and would not hesitate to put him down.
"COMBUSTAE FLAMMA!"
The world went completely went out control. A massive section of the office burst into violet flames before shattering in a millions splinters. The books were consumed, the magical portraits screamed before being extinguished by the torrent of magic. Alexandra had just the time to utter "Parma!" but the only mini-shield she knew flickered and broke under the monumental shockwave. The second-year Ravenclaw was thrown out against the wall, took one flying book in the chest and the other in her face. Alexandra felt the taste of her own blood in her mouth, the pain in her back and legs. Still, some of Flitwick's sessions were worse than this.
Grabbing her wand which was lying one foot away, she stood up with difficulty and tried to see what had happened to Lockhart and Nigel. But as her equilibrium came back, her attention was diverted to the massive hole where the last spell had been shouted.
In the breach just created a dark figure advanced. While Alexandra could honestly say she had never seen the clothing with her own eyes, the descriptions in the Daily Prophet and the stories of older students were detailed enough to recognise the infamous accoutrement. Black robes and hood. Silver mask using snake-like traits. A costume which had become a symbol in itself of the last British civil war.
Death Eater.
"Die daughter of a Mudblood whore! AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The Death Eater look-alike should have begun with the incantation and not by the insult. Not that Alexandra was going to complain. What remained of Lockhart's desk was thrown in front of her attacker. The livid green light coming out of the wand collided mid-air with the wood furniture, sending more splinters and debris everywhere.
The Death Eater pushed a pathetic scream and looked stunned, as like if he couldn't believe the unblockable Killing Curse had been countered. Alexandra didn't see why, countless wizards throughout history had elevated this technique to the rank of art.
"Glacies Secare!"
The Ice-Saw Charm was a spell Alexandra had never used against a fellow student or a Professor in her life.
"PROTEGO!" Shouted her opponent, and the blue-green light collided with a colourless barrier. "Ha! Ha! You thought-"
Whatever new insult was coming from the Death Eater died on his lips in a scream of agony. His magical shield was perforated by Alexandra's spell, and the incantation which could be generously compared to an overpowered version of an ice-based Cutting Charm cut deeply into his legs. Yes, the main reason she hadn't used this spell on a live target lied in its shield-breaking capabilities. Contrary to the Diffindo, the Glacies Secare was a double-impact spell. Basic shields on average shattered at the first serious impact. Thus the bloody result.
The left leg of her enemy was badly mangled by the blue-green magical cutter. It was the lucky one. The right one was sliced into three parts, and the Death Eater fell on his back without having the chance to cast another curse.
"AAARGGGGHHH!" The charms imbedded in the clothes protecting the anonymity of the pure-blood murderer had failed. The hooded figure's voice was now revealed and sounded like the voice of an older boy...not that Alexandra cared any longer about that. By laws so old they were almost traditions in and of themselves, the witches and wizards using the Killing Curse were condemned to life-sentences in the pleasant resort named Azkaban Prison. But against an Heiress of a House represented in the Wizengamot, this was also an invitation to an honour duel.
Drawing Glamdring from the scabbard she had hidden beneath her robes, Alexandra cast with her wand arm a rapid Expelliarmus. The wand of the Death Eater flew to her feet, not that its owner seemed to have noticed. The silver-masked attacker was screaming in pain and a stream of insults was coming out of his lips.
"You will pay for this Potter! I will kill you! I will bloody teach you how to respect your betters!"
Alexandra did not say a word. This wasn't her style and anyway the Killing Curse was all the justification she needed for the justice courts. Slowly, she raised Glamdring over her head.
"No! Wait! Wait!" The Death Eater realised his desperate situation and instantly stopped his stupid tirade. Not that it was going to save him now.
One powerful strike and the silver sword plunged into the Death Eater rib cage, silencing his last pleas. Drops of blood sprinkled over her robes and her hands. The movements of breathing went frantic before disappearing. The light in the grey eyes on the other side of the mask went out.
"Let the blood of Slytherin flow," murmured darkly Alexandra.
The young Ravenclaw witch waited a few seconds to see if there were more Death Eaters waiting outside, casting several cleaning charms to limit the amount of red-colour. Seeing there was no movement or any sign of an enemy, Alexandra rushed to the corner where Nigel had been blasted unconscious. Using the first-aid Charms Hermione had found in an outdated Healing book, the green-eyed girl sighed in relief. Nigel was going to wake up in a few hours with pain everywhere, a lot of blue skin and one or two impressive scars...but he would live and recover all his faculties. Ultimately, it was everything which mattered.
Using the same spells on Lockhart, the result was far less optimistic. But then Alexandra was no Healer and she could see at once it wasn't good. While Nigel and Alexandra had been thrown away by the shockwave of the unknown spell, the Defence Professor was heavier and had taken the attack in the face...literally. His visage, which had pushed hundreds of witches to the paroxysm of idiocy, was deeply burnt. The right arm and leg had received a fair portion of the fiery punishment too. In fact Gilderoy Lockhart was probably going to like this villain of the comic books Dudley read when he was supposed to do his homework, what was his name by the way? Double-Face or something like that...
Alexandra turned to the Death Eater she had just slain. Removing Glamdring from his rib cage, the Potter Heiress cut the fasteners of the mask to reveal the face of an older student often seen at the Slytherin table sprouting the 'pure-blood superiority' idiocy.
"Thomson Carrow. Why I am not surprised?"
The Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Carrow had figured on the list of 'most likely suspects' for the entire disaster...but discussing it around a chimney and seeing his corpse in Death Eater clothes were two entirely different things. Moreover, there were going to be severe consequences for her actions. Legitimate defence or not, House Carrow was not going to like at all the minor fact she had murdered one of their scions.
Feeling the familiar disgust which came with the presence of Dark Magic, she unrolled the deceased's sleeves and found it. A proto-Dark Mark, one of the kind the first Knights of Walpurgis had used to brand themselves in the 1960s when the name Voldemort wasn't striking fear in the hearts of the Britain magical community.
A mark Thompson Carrow couldn't earn since the Dark Lord and each of his most powerful lieutenants able to make it were gone or imprisoned in Azkaban. They had disregarded the possibility of the Heir not being a student, but it appeared it was a major miscalculation. The Heir of Slytherin –or the person pretending to be it under Ginny Weasley's face – was at least a member of the Death Eaters' Inner Circle.
What I am going to do?
It bothered Alexandra a lot that she wasn't that angry about having killed another student. It bothered her and yet she couldn't really put her heart in it. Last year Devkins had come close to killing her. Could she hope to win against one of the Dark Lord's elite with one more year under her belt?
What I am going to do?
They wanted to solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and stop the Heir? In one skirmish she had lost her only ally and a teacher! They were so out of their league it wasn't funny! The Slytherin bigots were now ready to use the vilest curses invented by wizardkind in the corridors of Hogwarts!
What I am going to do?
Loud footsteps were heard in the corridors. Not surprising, really. Their fight had been short, but certainly not silent or discreet. Alexandra felt despair pouring in her veins before gritting her teeth in grim determination. Her plan was in shambles, but the pieces were still in place. It was likely she would need the help of the Gryffindors to storm the Chamber of Secrets but her secret weapon could blind the Basilisk.
I am not going to die. That's a promise.
Rolling up her right sleeve, Alexandra activated the runic sequence the Amazonian magical menagerie had sent her. The cage was now open. The bat huntress was going to begin her hunt for the King of Snakes. There was a chance she would never know the outcome of this confrontation...but if the Basilisk lost the power to kill with his gaze a battalion of Aurors might be able to take it.
Climbing over Carrow's corpse, Alexandra left the ravaged office and faced the incoming wizards and witches. One moment ago, she had felt a small hope it was the Professors coming to investigate. Alas, the hooded figures having stopped forty feet away were not members of the teaching staff. Or if they were, they really had some disturbing choices of clothes.
They were three, and they were wearing similar variations of Carrow's Death Eater costume.
"Potter."
The magical filters were unable to erase fully the venom with which her family name had been pronounced.
"Death Eaters," retorted Alexandra.
"A new age is coming Potter," rasped the central figure. "Declare your allegiance to the cause or suffer the consequences."
Alexandra could not help it. She burst into giggles.
"This is not a joke!" Roared the Death Eater, furious Alexandra wasn't apparently taking him seriously. The green-eyed Ravenclaw stopped laughing with difficulty.
"You're right. Trying to kill me is no joke. And your little friend Randolph Carrow has already attacked me a few minutes ago."
Alexandra took a step forward for the Death Eaters to let them see her blood-stained robe in the light of the torches. Given that she was here and Carrow was not, the message was impossible even for dim-witted pure-bloods to miss.
"Blood-traitor..." whispered hatefully the figure on the right. "How dare you shed the noble blood sustaining our society?"
"My lineage is far more ancient and respectable than yours. Peasant." There was no way to say who was hiding behind the masks, but the remark found its mark. Fists tightened, the little skin which could be seen went red with anger.
"Die traitor! AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"Death to the Mudbloods! AVADA KEDAVRA!
"The Heir of Slytherin! AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Three livid green rays of light came into existence. Three Unforgivables, three Killing Curses, with enough hate and murderous thoughts to send her ten times over into the caverns of Mandos.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The sheer amount of dark magic mustered shattered on the knight's armour she had just levitated in their path. The steel buckled, melted and finally liquefied under the Unforgivables, but it had fulfilled its purpose. The Death Eater on the right fell to a knee on the ground. The two other bigots were trembling on their feet. It was lamentable, a proof their levels of magic definitely weren't used to coping with this deathly power. And it would be their doom. A new Levitation Charm and the debris from the armour was sent at the Junior Death Eaters, sending them to the ground like dominoes.
My turn then.
Nine twirls of her wand, four movements of her sword covered in blood and a very focused visualisation were necessary for the incantation she had in mind. And it wasn't going to be pretty.
"By the power of Pertho, Hagalaz, Eihwaz and Thurisaz, I beseech you thunder of heavens! FULMEN IMPERATOR!"
Alexandra had promised Morag she wouldn't use this spell except in the direst circumstances. The Imperial Thunder Battle-Spell was a reconstitution of some very nasty magical engineering, and needless to say it had been severely restricted in its use by the most narrow-minded Ministry officials.
But the risk was worth it.
An ocean of green-red thunder stormed the corridor, generating an unstoppable wave of destruction. One of the junior Death Eaters began to run as far away as he could, while the two others casted red-grey shields and waited for Alexandra's war-spell to hit them. Alexandra felt her heart beat faster as a fantastic quantity of magic was consumed. She felt her blood sing with the power in her veins. She felt her hairs rise such was the energy she emitted. She felt every little wound Carrow's spell had made on her body.
And then the column of thunder ended as fast as it had begun. Alexandra fell on her knees, out of breath. In a rough estimate, she had the impression of having run five kilometres at full speed. Maybe one-third of her magical core had gone into the Imperial Thunder.
Trying to gain some balance, Alexandra glanced at her enemies and regretted it.
Of the two Death Eaters who had stayed to withstand her attack, their magical wands and their shredded robes were the things having shown the greatest amount of resistance to her lightning incantation. The lightning-based spell had not been content to break their magical shields. It had consumed them. Below the robes, two wizards had been hiding their visages. Now they were only two charred corpses.
Alexandra gagged at the putrid smell of roasted meat.
Oh by the eye of Sauron...what I have done?
There was no point examining them to see if there was any sign of life left in them. No one human could take burns like that and survive.
The Potter Heiress almost collapsed and it wasn't due to magical exhaustion.
I killed them. I killed them. I-
She closed her eyes. She tried to think logically. She tried to analyse the situation like a good Ravenclaw.
I killed them. I killed them before they killed me.
A bitter laugh came to her lips. A few minutes – or was it seconds? – ago, she had been speaking about the blood of Slytherin. And now more and more of the red liquid was shed for this imbecility.
"How many more have I to kill? How much blood must I take on my hands before it ends?"
There was no one to answer the question. Alexandra hadn't expected anything else. She was always alone at the end, no? In the darkness of the cupboard, when she hadn't been able to escape the clutches of Vernon or the rest of her 'family'. In the abyss of Brise-Roc, when magic and steel failed against the monster of another dimension. At Hogwarts, when Professors and students failed routinely to look like a sane and normal school.
Nigel was unconscious. Hermione and Morag were petrified. Flitwick was certainly in the same state. Dumbledore, as much as she disliked the old powerful wizard, was not here. She was alone, tired of this butchery...
A loud sound echoed in the distance. An atrocious hiss resonated in the empty corridors and halls of Hogwarts. A sound which could only be made by one living creature in the magical world.
"Here comes the Basilisk."
11 April 1993, Hogsmeade, Scotland
Albus Dumbledore watched with cold eyes the castle of Hogwarts in the distance.
On normal occasions, the view of the domain under his charge was sufficient for a smile to come upon his lips. A small fifteen-minute walk was necessary from the emplacement of the first wards protecting Hogwarts to the great doors, and this trip was normally the occasion when he found the time to observe the architecture and the splendour of his school.
Today it was not the case. Today the half-kilometre separating him from the marble stairs was an obstacle in his path. The doors and the stairs leading to them were visible from his position, but they might as well be on the moon for all the good it did.
Fifteen minutes ago, he had emergency Apparated here when he had felt the outer wards of the school being activated for a lock-down. Those wards were the ones he had temporarily given to Minerva's custody per the terms of his suspension. Going on a lock-down was a serious sign that something incredibly grave had happened; given that his Deputy was unable to answer his Patronus, the Headmaster of Hogwarts had arrived rapidly to the conclusion Minerva had been incapacitated.
But then the Head of House Gryffindor was not the only formidable witch or wizard teaching the students nominally under his charge. He had tried to contact Severus and Filius...with the same absence of results. Moving further down the list of teachers he considered reliable, he had sent Patronus after Patronus to be met by the same absence of answers.
The conclusion was obvious: the 'Heir' plot Lucius Malfoy and his Death Eater friends had somehow activated to help their political agenda in the Wizengamot was out of control. In the sanctuary of his mind, the Chief Warlock swore the Malfoy Lord was going to regret it, oh yes. Several 'anonymous denunciations' were going to lead to an increase of the raids on notorious Dark Houses' manors. The Malfoy home was by the way going to be at the top of the list.
Lucius Malfoy had crossed an unacceptable line. As long as he kept his plans far from Hogwarts, the game of politics could be played. But here he had attacked his supporters, his bastion of Light, put in danger the new generation he had carefully mentored. This was unacceptable. The Malfoy patriarch was going to be kicked out of the Board of Governors by the end of the week. Several Ministry commissions Lucius was member of were going to find themselves regretfully announcing his departure. Hagrid, a half-giant who was the personification of innocence, was going to be released at once and several of these so traditional pure-bloods would take his place in Azkaban!
Outwardly he wasn't able to show his wrath of course. Instead a concerned face was projected, with the calm and dedicated leader persona he had created for crises like this. It was particularly needed, because the small task force forming at the edge of Hogwarts' walls was not entirely made of his supporters.
There were several of his Order of the Phoenix wizards and witches perambulating on the grass next to him, having loyally answered his call in this difficult time. Sirius Black had been the first to arrive, followed by Dedalus Diggle, Sturgis Podmore, Neal Peakes, Bart William, Kurt Kensington, Violet Pettus and Tyler Marsham. With them, Albus felt sure they could retake the control of Hogwarts when the wards were reset to his control in a bit less than three hours.
Unfortunately, they weren't going to be alone when the imminent time of reckoning came. Lucius Malfoy and a dozen of his minions had come, and this was anything but a surprise really. Albus didn't know if this presence was more motivated by the desire of the Death Eater to see the object of his ambition or to reclaim whatever Dark Artefact he had unleashed inside the walls of Hogwarts, and he really didn't care.
A large number of Aurors had Apparated to Hogsmeade too. The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot had been exceedingly furious when Minerva had communicated him the names of the idiots assigned to Hogwarts; Fudge apparently had listened to the wrong crowd again and some of the Corps' worst elements had been selected for the boring patrol duties. The DMLE force which was present was far more potent however, with Kingsley and a few of his supporters included in it. According to the communications his agents had overheard, Amelia Bones and a bigger task force were on their way.
And then there were the goblins. Fudge had somehow got the idea that if the legendary monster of the Chamber of Secrets was roaming inside Hogwarts' walls, then it was best to call the best monster-hunters available on short notice. No consideration had been made to the precedent caused by such a demand. There was a reason goblins-in-arms were forbidden outside their sovereign territory of Gringotts! The vicious little beasts were going to take advantage of it, Dumbledore was sure of it.
Goblins were a true and permanent danger threatening the institutions of Magical Britain. Unlike werewolves and skinchangers in general who were cursed to transform three nights a month, these creatures had never been human. They had bloodlust levels similar to the vampire race, but without the impetus to feed on it and the few morals of centuries-old beings. They were not slow-witted like the giants. They controlled the magical economy, which by right should be a human's prerogative!
No, the goblin race was too dangerous and unpredictable to be a productive part of Wizarding society. Like the vampires, their expansion had to be limited at all costs. Their influence over the common wizard had fortunately decreased following the war, with Dumbledore and the Light being able to pass the necessary laws against the bloodsuckers and the warmongering bankers.
It was best however not to rest on one's laurels: that over two hundred goblins armoured from head to toe had been gathered at Hogsmeade was a firm reminder these little beasts remained a threat.
Quite vexing, the goblins refused to speak to him personally and had forced him to use Sturgis Podmore as an intermediary. That the banker-warriors had the best knowledge of what was happening in his beloved school thanks to their vaults' blood wards and their wards-mastery was adding insult to the injury. Dumbledore himself was only aware of the magical alerts ringing when major violations of the School Chart were reported. To date, it had included the three Unforgivables, several Battle-Spells, the wards of several Professors offices being shattered...the list was enough to make a very good book and it increased each minute.
Fortunately, the member of the Order of the Phoenix was coming back. Fighting not to show his irritation and his impatience, the Headmaster of Hogwarts touched in his pocket the Elder Wand, feeling a small infusion of power the instant his fingers came in contact with the wood.
"How things fare inside the school, Sturgis?" asked the Grand Sorcerer to his subordinate who currently had the role of security expert inside the Order.
"Badly, Chief Warlock" answered with deep respect Podmore. "The goblins haven't the exact detail of everything, but it seems three students and one teacher have already been killed."
This news saddened Dumbledore's heart. Britain had already suffered too many losses during Voldemort's reign of terror. Even now years after, the recovery was far from complete. Close to one hundred and forty thousand wizards and witches lived today in the British Isles. Each of those lives, no matter how perverted by the Dark, was precious and had to be brought back into the Light.
"Who are the victims?" With luck, no Light families would be in mourning tonight and only Obliviations of Muggle-borns parents would be necessary...but the really important issue was the potential Chosen Ones and the future leaders of the new generation. Losing them would require him to change considerably his plans.
"Thomson Carrow of the Noble and Ancient House of Carrow was the first to die. Lewis Wilkes of the Ancient House of Wilkes and Jared Miller of the Ancient House of Miller came next. Professor Kaitlyn Reed of Defence Against the Dark Arts had been murdered a few minutes before the last two."
These names were completely unexpected. Dumbledore could not help but widen his eyes, though his mastery of Occlumency and Legilimency helped him to maintain an assured stance. The Chief Warlock had expected Muggle-borns to be the victims, not the sons of notorious Death Eater families!
As for Professor Reed, this was clearly Tom's Curse acting once again.
A careful examination of the Dark faction's group allowed him to know this information was coming like a cold shower for Lucius Malfoy and his supporters. Lord Miller in particular was losing his nerves and launching strident accusations.
More interesting were the goblins. Dumbledore had heard that the prestige of holding certain vaults was a question of life and death for certain goblins, but in his long life he had never been a witness to these bloody succession questions. Now the Supreme Mugwump had the confirmation under his very eyes, as the crowd of goblins surrounded one of their own and plunged their axes and spears into their body. It was a barbaric spectacle with a shower of blood and guts.
Unless he was very much mistaken, the very dead goblin was the Accountant for the Wilkes vaults. Lewis Wilkes had been a Slytherin seventh-year and the last of his line, due to take the seat of his House next summer in the Wizengamot. According to Severus the young man had already self-proclaimed himself 'Lord Wilkes' in the Den of Snakes. It appeared it had been a very premature idea. House Wilkes was now extinct and the goblins were beginning to murder each other.
The sad part was that there was going to be a similar bloodless fight at the Wizengamot when it came to dividing the Wilkes titles, possessions and money. Montrose, Mulciber, Lament and Nott were all cousins to diverse degrees of the Wilkes. They were all going to want their part of the treasure, this honourless band of vultures.
"Anything more?" demanded the Headmaster, calculating inside his head the probability of raising a new Light House in place of the now destroyed House Wilkes.
"No." Sturgis Podmore grimaced and showed an uncomfortable posture. "The goblin in charge is not one of our greatest admirers. Grimjaw I believe he is called."
The name of the goblin evoked an echo in Dumbledore's memories though he was unable to say the exact circumstances he had heard it before. In the last decades, he had been forced to speak and contact hundreds of the Gringotts branch members and their unpronounceable names gave him a headache. He would have to review the dozen of files he kept on the Gringotts bankers in order to remember the rank of this 'Grimjaw'.
"Regrettable." And Dumbledore was sincere. The Goblin nation had just won one or two more restrictions on their activities. If the goblins proved too stubborn for their own good, they had better not be surprised when the punishments were voted.
In two hours thirty-two minutes and twenty seconds, the wards would be back under his control. Albus Dumbledore swore that whoever had participated in this disaster, by Merlin he was going to teach them a lesson they would never forget. And then...
New screams mounted from the area where the goblin warriors were massed.
"Another student has just died," informed him unnecessarily Podmore.
11 April 1993, Hogwarts, Scotland
If anyone asked her in the next decade whether buying a specimen of super-sized bat for seven hundred Galleons and bribing one Ravenclaw Prefect for one hundred more gold coins was a good idea, Alexandra would answer without hesitation with a firm 'yes'.
The name of the bat species was the 'Queen of Amazonia free-tailed bat'. Chaerephon gigantica if one wanted to use its noble name.
Renowned for its size, the massive flying mammal was three times the size of her snow owl Atalanta. It was totally blind, relying only on its sonar for locating its prey. And it was hunting quasi-exclusively the snakes in the environment of the Southern American forests where it lived, crippling their eyes and the rest of their head with its powerful claws.
All these qualities, Alexandra had concluded, made it the perfect opponent to blind the King of Snakes.
And fortunately, she had been right. Because the animal she had called Tisiphone was the only thing allowing her to stay alive right now.
"Viscera ruptura!"
The violet-black curse missed her by several inches but it had come close. Too close. Alexandra sent a quick Fulgur Magna in retaliation but the junior Death Eater hid behind a pillar.
The combat against the King of Snakes, which had begun optimally with the bat clawing out the eyes of the Basilisk, was now turning to a far darker outcome. Alexandra had been forced to let Tisiphone and the Basilisk resolve their quarrel of dominant super-predators alone. The Heir of Slytherin had sent two other Junior Death Eaters with his creature...which had left Alexandra somewhat baffled as to how many of the castle's pure-bloods had been recruited in this not-so-little conspiracy.
Seriously, counting the three she had killed and the one who had fled, they were right now reaching the number of six. How the Head of the House Slytherin and the rest of the teaching staff had not noticed that many potential killers inside Hogwarts' walls was beyond her.
"Sanguis glaciare!"
A white-red beam struck the top of the nearby pillar, too close for comfort.
"Viscera ruptura!"
This was becoming bad. Her two enemies were coordinated, and unlike the other imbeciles she had fought before, they were not launching Unforgivables right and left. She was pretty sure she was facing two elder Slytherin boys...but she could be wrong. What was sure on the other hand was that their arsenal of lethal spells was several times bigger than her own. And they had very rapid and lethal Dark Arts incantations in it.
"Reducto!"
"Bombarda Maxima!"
"Sanguis glaciare!"
Various bombardment spells and cursed crossed the courtyard of the third floor which had become by default their battlefield. With the destruction they caused, Hogwarts was soon going to need a lot of repairs before reopening.
Alexandra felt the urge to scream a few insults at her opponents but it wasn't going to solve anything. Unlike Carrow, these followers knew not to squander their advantages. The green-eyed witch had never realised how much the Slytherins were bound with the laws existing on different types of magic but now she did. In a fashion, the Gryffindors were really mad to taunt them with pranks and provocations. It was like grabbing the tail of an irritated animal and expecting it not to react with venom and fangs!
Speaking about the animal, Alexandra was forced to jump over the balustrade onto the moving stairs as the Basilisk shattered the place where she had just taken position. The beast was now completely mad without its eyes. Tisiphone constantly clawing its head was likely amplifying these bouts of madness.
By the dark soul of Sauron this snake was ugly! Over sixty feet of grey-green scales, an ugly head –which had not been improved by the bat wounds – a barbed tail and the incredibly long fangs. More problematic, it was impossible to kill. Alexandra had tried all the methods she knew. Throwing spells. Throwing sharp objects. Collapsing the pillars and the ceiling over its head. The Harpoon Charm, a complicated piece of magic she had considered her plan of recourse several days ago. Making sure the junior Death Eaters most dangerous curses were redirected against the reptile.
Nothing worked. The Basilisk resistance was simply unnatural.
Only the sword Glamdring seemed to be any use, her strikes with the sliver metal piercing the hard scales and drawing blood from the monster. The problem was that her attacks weren't touching anything vital. Either she lacked the strength sufficient to do it, or there was no such weakness in the Basilisk. Alexandra freely acknowledged she sucked on the subject of magical snakes' anatomy...by the way who knew the Basilisk's blood was a powerful acid?
Occasion to strike a fatal blow to the head of the Basilisk were alas few and far between. Assuming of course the head was a weak point of the King of the Snakes. And the opportunities became null when one took into account the endless barrage of the Death Eaters.
"Confringo!"
The high-level Blasting Curses were beginning to be quite tiresome when one was on the receiving end. More proof Alexandra was facing at least OWL-level students...and an incentive to finish this battle fast. The two junior Death Eaters had begun this round of hostilities well-rested. Not her.
"For Elendil!" The Potter Heiress screamed, channeling a side of her persona she would refuse to admit the existence in public...too many similarities with the dim-witted Lions.
Using the new move of the Basilisk as an improvised shield, Alexandra raced up the stairs and slammed Glamdring in the lower part of the monster's maw. Struck from below, the Chamber of Secrets' monster emitted an incredulous sounding hiss as the silver-sword went right to the hilt in its flesh, ravaging its vulnerable parts and hopefully touching the vital skull. Alexandra jumped away as the flow of oily blood poured from the massive wound, and just in time. The gigantic snake convulsed in agony and its tail went away impossibly fast.
Too fast.
For the second time in less than an hour, Alexandra was sent spinning. The meeting with the ground was as unpleasant as ever, but this time with victory surging in her heart the pain wasn't unbearable. The Basilisk hissed and shrieked in untold suffering, before slamming into what had been an ornamental fountain yesterday. Like the troll over a year ago, the rumble was so loud and powerful Alexandra was sure every dead and alive being inside Hogwarts had heard it.
"Yes..."
"NO!"
Alexandra stood up impossibly fast with what strength was left of forces in her legs. Her flight had sent her directly before one of the two Death Eaters. Her saving grace...there was no saving grace.
They were both at each other wand's point. There wasn't going to be any time to evade.
"Glacies-"
"Sanguis-"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The livid green light announcing the Killing Curse arrived without warning and struck the Death Eater straight in the middle of his back. It was so rapid Alexandra was sure the pure-blood had not even the opportunity for the words to arrive to his brain.
At first Alexandra thought it was his acolyte who had completely missed his target, but the other silver mask was crawling behind a ruined statue.
No, the responsible for this clean murder was in front of her, wearing a dark grey cloak decorated with a flamboyant red symbol she had never seen before: two black curved swords crossed on a red field accompanied by what looked to be black tears.
Raising her wand in precaution, Alexandra's mind clicked and she realised this face had figured prominently when she had searched photos of her family in the archives. The man had grown older with the years yes, but he was still recognisable.
"Peter Pettigrew."
The last member of the Marauders emitted a quick nod, before transforming into a rat and disappearing into a corridor with an impressive agility. Huh. At no moment had it been mentioned the man was a Animagus. In fact, the former friend of her father was a wizard described as 'low-average level' in the OWLS and NEWTS records.
At least I know why Scabbers reappeared. It wasn't Scabbers. Scabbers was eaten by Crookshanks. It was Peter Pettigrew all along. And that way he gained access to the Gryffindor Common Room.
Truly Hogwarts was a monumental disaster in term of security.
The black-haired witch turned to settle the accounts with her last enemy, but there was no one behind the ruined pillars and the mutilated statues.
"Only the Heir of Slytherin is left. OOOFF!"
Tisiphone had just chosen this moment to pose herself upon Alexandra's left shoulder, and the weight of the great bat was significantly heavier than Atalanta. Alexandra felt only gratitude for her new animal companion...until the bat decided to lick the blood on her clothes.
Yuck.
A stampede nearby interrupted her disgusted considerations. This time it wasn't the Death Eaters coming back for a new round. A large group of Lions had decided to rush in the melee. They however stopped at the entry of the devastated courtyard when they saw the battle was over.
"Potter," For the first time in two years, the Potter Heiress saw the Boy-Who-Lived blanching in fear. "What have you done?"
