October to November 1992, 2nd year
Lynea was tasked with delivering the unfortunate news and then patiently explaining what had transpired.
"It's just some writing and a petrified cat," one Slytherin said in indignation. "It could just be a prank on the caretaker, wouldn't be the first time."
There was a general murmur of consent.
"It's the headmaster," another Slytherin sneered. "As if he would let such a fine opportunity slip through his fingers."
Professor Snape arrived about ten minutes later and explained to his patiently waiting Slytherins that Dumbledore had indeed decided to cancel the celebrations, just like the year before. He didn't even try to silence the outraged cries that followed his statement, instead giving them permission to, once again, perform the rituals in the common room and warned them to not se anything on fire.
Lynea went to her dormitory to retrieve her candles. When she came back, the furniture had been moved to the walls and everyone had assembled around a small, round table in the middle, already waiting for her. She gave Harry a candle, then put a large, black one on the table. Someone extinguished all the lights and cast the room into darkness.
"On this night of all nights," Lynea began, as was tradition, "when the veil between the worlds is thinnest, we call out to those who have gone before us. We have gathered here to honour the spirits of our ancestors, to honour our beloved ones, who watch over us, protect us and guide us. We have gathered here, once again, in the safety of our common room and hope that you may forgive us for not calling you under the stars of the endless night sky."
Lynea waved her hand and the black candle sprung to live, a light blue flame casting the room in an eerie gloom.
"We hope that you may join us still, so we may honour your memory and your presence among us," Lynea finished as she lit a smaller candle with the flame of the black one and then joined the circle of students around her.
This time, when all candles had been lit and everyone had closed their eyes, her grandfather stood before her instead of beside her, his back turned to her.
"Alas," he said, "we meet again in the confines of the castle's walls. But I have time and so do you. We shall talk another time, neptis mea."
Lynea's candle went out. She saw that most had been extinguished already and wondered whether the location had something to do with that – their ancestors did not seem to like meeting like this. Harry's was still burning, and so where Theodore's and Blaise's.
It did not take very long for the room to be cast into darkness again and then they all held a moment of silence, before the lights were switched on again.
Lynea and her housemates gathered in front of one of the fireplaces to exchange quiet stories of the people they had met. Theodore had talked to his and Lynea's grandfather, Blaise and Harry to their respective fathers.
"He said he was proud of me," Harry said. "And he looks like me. Except for the eyes, those are my mother's." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Just like Hagrid said, just like the pictures in the photograph album he gave me."
"So you carry a reminder of them around with you," Daphne mused.
"It was nice to meet them," Harry said, staring into the green fire. "I never got the chance to get to know them, yet I still miss them every day. Is that normal?"
"Of course it is," Daphne said gently and the others joined her in comforting Harry, just as they had comforted Theodore and Blaise.
Only Lynea remained seated, silently watching her friends grieve and console each other.
o
In the Slytherin common room, on the evening of Samhain after everyone had finished with their personal rites and traditions, the Slytherins all gathered around, seated on the sofas and in the chairs (Slytherins didn't sit on the floor, no, thank you very much), and Gemma Farley began to tell a story.
The story went like this:
"Once upon a time, four witches and wizards by the names of Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff –"
"Huh, their names are all alliterations."
Gemma glared at Travers for interrupting her. "– came together to build what would later become known as one of the greatest wizarding schools of the world."
"Debatable," Flint said and some of the Slytherins nodded.
"They built this castle that they had all designed together," Gemma continued, her tone terse.
"Ravenclaw designed it," some Slytherin chimed in. "She's the one responsible for the bloody moving staircases."
"Yes, thank you," Gemma said and Lynea admired how calm she was. "At first everything seemed perfect. The four founders worked in harmony, the school was running smoothly, their wards diligent students. But then tensions arose when Slytherin voiced his concerns about letting unworthy students into the castle, about letting muggleborn learn the ways of magic. He wanted to keep the school pure, to only let those in that came from magical families, purebloods."
"As it should be," someone said and a murmur swept through the Slytherins.
"The other founders disagreed and eventually Gryffindor and Slytherin had a heavy argument that ended in Slytherin leaving the school. At some point, rumours started circulating – rumours about a secret chamber, left behind by Slytherin. They say he constructed it when they built the castle together, that he hid a monster in there and sealed the entrance, so that only his heir may open it. They say Slytherin entrusted his legacy to an heir who would open the chamber and unleash the monster on those that he deemed unworthy."
Gemma paused, but this time no one seemed to have anything to say.
"The school has been searched thoroughly by many wizards and witches over the centuries, but the chamber has never been found. No one can say whether the legend is true or false."
Silence.
Gemma smiled wryly. "I am finished, feel free to talk now – just like you did when I was still telling the story."
"What did the writing on the wall say again?" someone called.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir, beware."
"How poetic," Montague said.
"Hah!" Lynea smirked at Draco, who only rolled his eyes.
"We still don't know whether it wasn't actually some prank," Montague continued. "But the cat hasn't been cured, yet, as far as we know and that seems to me like highly advanced magic – way too complicated for a mere prank."
"If the message is true, then there must be a descendant of Slytherin himself at the school," Warrington said. "If that person were in our house and aware of their ancestry, then we would surely know. And they must be aware, or they wouldn't have opened the chamber and written that message. Therefore, it must be a Ravenclaw."
Harry leaned over to Lynea and whispered. "Why a Ravenclaw?"
"Because Gryffindor is too noble and Hufflepuff too soft and neither are likely to house any students that would go to go after the muggleborn." Lynea shrugged. "Although that doesn't mean it couldn't be one of them. It's just unlikely."
"How can you be sure the heir would tell us?" someone asked loudly.
Warrington raised his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't they? We are his house. We –" He glanced at the second-years. "Well, most of us agree with his ideals."
The discussion went on for a while.
"What could the seal on the entrance be?" – "Slytherin was a known Parseltongue." – "Wouldn't that be a tad bit obvious? Slytherin wasn't even the only bloodline of Parseltongues." – "None of which survived, as far as anyone knows." – "We thought the same of Slytherin, yet his heir is in our school at this very moment." – "Presumably."
And so on. They deliberately avoided talking about the targets, the 'enemies of the heir', the heated discussion from several weeks ago still hanging over their heads. There wasn't much to go on, of course – they couldn't even be sure at this point whether the message was actually real – and it was already late, so the Slytherins soon dispersed and went to bed. Some of them would write to their parents in the morning, but until anything else happened, there was only so much they could talk about.
The Chamber of Secrets was all the school could talk about for the next few days and Filch was often seen pacing menacingly in front of the writing on the wall, which he apparently could not get rid of with any of his cleaning tools. There were rumours circulating about likely candidates for Slytherin's heir and of course they were mostly Slytherins. And of course the school didn't take kindly to that. They all had to watch their backs very closely these days.
Ronald Weasley was the first to accuse one of their year, right before one of their shared potions lessons.
"Admit it, Malfoy," he spat, to which Draco only raised an eyebrow. "You are the Heir of Slytherin, aren't you? Bet you've been dying to open the chamber since first-year."
"And why," Draco asked snidely, "would I even want to do that?"
"To get rid of all the muggleborn, of course!" Weasley exclaimed, his face red. "Must have been very hard to keep it a secret, seeing as you like to brag about your whole family being in Slytherin."
Draco busied himself with straightening his already perfectly pristine necktie. "Well, if my family were descended from Salazar Slytherin, then you can be sure I would have bragged about it from the very first day."
Weasley narrowed his eyes and drew his wand. Draco immediately followed suit and then suddenly nearly all the Gryffindors and Slytherins had their wands pointed at each other.
"Guys," Harry stepped forward, his hands raised. "Do you have to fight about this? Can't we resolve this peacefully?"
Weasley fixed Harry with a glare. "Or maybe it's you, after all. Why else would you have been sorted into Slytherin, when both of your parents were Gryffindors?"
"This is ridiculous," Lynea said, one of the few who hadn't drawn her wand. "If Professor Snape sees you all, there will be consequences."
"Consequences?" one of the Gryffindor boys spat. "As if he would ever punish his perfect little Slytherins. It doesn't matter which one of you did it, you're all just as bad."
Lynea sighed and stepped back, looking around in hopes to see their potions professor approaching, while Harry tried to argue with the stubborn Gryffindors. She caught Neville's eye and Neville waved at her nervously. He hadn't drawn his wand, either.
"And what is the meaning of this?" came Professor Snape's drawling voice from the shadows.
The man always had perfect timing, didn't he?
The Slytherins put their wands away and looked at him attentively. The Gryffindors were more reluctant to do so.
"Five points from Gryffindor for attempting to fight other students," Snape said and swept past them to open the classroom doors.
Weasley looked ready to argue, but was held back by one of his friends. He gave the Slytherins a furious glare and then stomped into the room.
It had been a while since one of their lessons had been interrupted by a falsely brewed potions and it was not Neville's fault – it hadn't been Neville's fault since Lynea's tutoring had started to really take effect. Weasley was apparently too furious to pay proper attention to the instructions on the blackboard and too prideful to listen to Professor Snape's warnings (that were, admittedly, hidden behind insults and point deductions).
Lynea usually tried not to wish harm on anyone, but she felt a grim satisfaction when Weasley's atrocious looking Ice Potion exploded in his face, giving him mild frost burns and turning his skin a sickly grey. And maybe Snape was just a bit too harsh on him, but Weasley had brought this upon himself.
Weasley wasn't the only one accusing them, of course. Many others were doing the same – some behind their backs, some right to their faces, others by hexing them in the corridors. And when they spotted Lynea and Harry with Hermione, they accused them of lulling her into a false sense of security.
Lucius Malfoy wrote to his son that the chamber had been opened before, fifty years ago, and implied that he knew what had transpired despite not yet attending Hogwarts back then – it had been his grandfather's time. They had kept everything quiet back then and if Lucius told Draco the details, it would only make him look suspicious.
"A muggleborn died," Draco told the others in the common room, eyes glued to his father's letter. "And the culprit was expelled. They're probably rotting in Azkaban." Draco frowned. "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it."
"Sounds like your father beliefs the message was true and not just a prank," Pansy said.
"It also sounds like it might be something he is involved in," Lynea said, giving Draco a meaningful look.
"You mean that is what he has been planning?" Harry asked.
"What he has been planning?" Pansy repeated curiously.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Very subtle, Harry."
Harry ducked his head. "Sorry."
"I'll write to my grand-aunt," Lynea interjected. "She attended Hogwarts with your grandfather – I believe she was a year or two above him. She probably witnessed everything."
"Don't you dare change the subject on me," Pansy said, stabbing her finger in Lynea's direction. "What was that about Mr Malfoy planning something?"
Draco sighed. "I overhead my father talking to Theodore's father during the summer holidays about some secret plan they were putting in motion and that they had to act soon before the new Hogwarts term started."
They speculated for a while how Lucius Malfoy's mysterious plan and the Chamber of Secrets could be connected, but came up with nothing, apart from the fact that Lucius probably knew who the heir was.
A few days later, Naenia wrote in her letter to Lynea that she did, in fact, know more about the Chamber of Secrets and that the Slytherin line had died out. She could not explain how, then, the chamber could have been opened by a true Heir of Slytherin – which was an interesting way to phrase it, Lynea noted. Naenia also wrote that she would let the school handle it for now and gave them no further information on the subject.