"Talking/Dialogue"
"Special Dialogue"
"Special Dialogue"
Thoughts/Spells
'Quotes'
Writing/Text
Start of A New Path
Great Hall, Hogwarts
Saturday
October 31st, 1994
That could have gone better. Harry let out a deep sigh as he made his way toward the common room, the staircase completely devoid of any presence save for himself.
The professors had ordered the rest of the students to return to their common rooms while they discussed Harry's shocking entry into the tournament.
The halls of the castle were now empty and quiet, which Harry was grateful for as he came to terms with everything that had happened after his name was shot out of the Goblet of Fire.
It allowed him to ponder his decision to admit to conscious entry into the Triwizard Tournament and to consider the changes that had already begun to take place.
Death's parting message had been a strong reason for him to make that decision, the words serving to embolden him as he walked past the goblet. His head had not been weighed down by nervousness, nor had his eyes darted around in uncertainty.
Instead, Harry held his head high, unbothered by the hushed whispers and distrusting glances that began to grow behind him.
That change in attitude had been more than enough to start changing events.
The boy who had gone to join the other champions wasn't surprised or hesitant to be among them. This time, the young man had confidence in his posture, himself, and abilities.
Just like before, Fleur was the first to notice him and asked the same question, a dismissive look on her beautiful face as she surveyed his confident demeanor. However, her deep-blue eyes soon held surprise at his response, but only for a moment. It was soon replaced with minor annoyance that only grew into visible irritation when Harry firmly repeated the reason for his presence.
By then, the rest of the staff had made their way down into the room, their stares centered on him. None of them particularly pleased.
Dumbledore had been quick to reach him and hadn't wasted a moment asking if Harry had entered his name into the goblet. The old wizard had worn an expectant air about him as if he was already anticipating the answer he would give.
Which only amplified the look of surprise that struck the Headmaster's face when Harry admitted to doing so before he smoothed it over into one of disappointment.
He wasn't the only adult to have been caught off-guard.
It even surprised the man, who posed as Mad-Eye Moody, though Harry would only know the true reason why. Crouch Jr. had clearly expected his denial, although his admission didn't seem to upset him. In fact, it almost looked like he relaxed a bit.
Probably thinks it lessens the chances of him being discovered… And it looks like it will. Harry thought, running a hand through his hair. The rest of the debate consisted of 'how' I managed to enter. No one even considered that someone else might have entered my name.
The large group had dispersed soon after, with the other champions selected throwing challenging looks in his direction, which he readily returned.
That only seemed to make things worse. Even Cedric looked a little bit annoyed at the end. Harry sighed as he stepped onto the seventh floor and began making his way down the main hallway. I'm not surprised things are going differently. I kind of expected it to…. I just have to be careful not to change too much too quickly.
He could start to make out the portrait of the Fat Lady down the long corridor, who more than likely had the entirety of his house lurking behind her. No doubt, most of his housemates were there, ready to congratulate him on his entry into the tournament—something Harry did not want to deal with at the moment.
Any of it.
I just want to be alone right now. Harry turned around sharply before heading down one of the back hallways.
If the path toward his common room was empty, this one was completely deserted. The stone walls were almost entirely barren of anything except a couple of torches lighting the way down and a familiar portrait of a wizard failing spectacularly in teaching trolls the fine art of ballet.
Harry gave it nothing more than a passing glance, more interested in the wall opposite the art. A hand made its way to the stone wall, completely cold to the touch and giving no hint as to what it was or what it could do.
He eyed the stone wall with a faraway look, vividly remembering the mad rush to escape the cursed fire, the desperation that had welled within him as the ravenous flames swallowed everything in the room. He could almost feel the suffocating heat, the cackling of the flames as it threatened to consume him and his friends, only to be left wanting with only a Horcrux to show for its troubles.
None of that has happened yet…It's as it was before. Harry frowned, looking at the barren wall with narrowed eyes. And once again, housing the Horcrux.
Should he grab it?
Harry had come to the Room of Requirement intending to be alone for a bit, maybe even spend the night inside, to give himself the time to process everything that had happened.
However, the thought of retrieving the Horcrux had crossed his mind, and a part of him, still wired into dealing with the soul anchors, quickly urged him to take action, and Harry found it difficult to ignore the temptation.
And this one is probably the easiest to get out of all the remaining Horcruxes.
Figuring out what relic it could have been and where it might be had been the only challenging part, and he now knew both pieces of information.
Harry didn't count the altercation with Draco and his goons as that had been circumstantial and unlikely to happen again.
Destroying the diadem would be relatively simple as well. There's a convenient source of basilisk venom down in the chamber that is ready for me to use. Harry began to pace in front of the wall, stepping through the door that appeared. I can rob Voldemort of one of his anchors in what…an hour? Maybe two?
The Room of Hidden Things was just as massive as he remembered, with heaps of lost objects dominating the entire floor. Some piles were small, barely a couple of feet in height, but others dwarfed them in size, stretching high up into the ceiling to an almost impossible degree.
Harry barely spared them a glance as he purposefully made his way through them, his body almost on auto-pilot as he went down a specific path, passing by familiar markers that he carried a faint recollection of.
There's the banjo…a horribly drawn vampire…the suit of armor with three axes stuck in its head…There it is. His green eyes lit up once he came across a giant sculpture of a red troll, knowing that his objective was just around the corner.
Passing by a pile of broken mirrors, Harry came to a stop right in front of a bust, the tiara on a black tarp just behind it.
"There you are…" Harry muttered, staring at the ancient artifact momentarily before cautiously reaching out to take it. However, as soon as his fingers brushed against the metal piece of jewelry, a familiar prickling sensation grew around his scar, making him stop momentarily in surprise.
"No, no, no," he whispered with dread before hastily grabbing one of the many cracked mirrors off to the side and bringing it up to his face. He stared at the faint red scar on his forehead in stunned silence, becoming intensely aware of the dull ache that resonated from it.
A piece of Voldemort's soul was attached to him again.
Numbness spread through him again at the revelation, just like it had back in the Headmaster's office as Dumbledore and Snape discussed his fate.
"So, the boy…must die?"
"And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential."
Defeat began to take hold of his body, resignation settling into his eyes at the knowledge that his life would have to be cut short. That, when the time came, he would have to embrace his death at the hands of the Dark Lord once again.
It looks like my fate doesn't change… Harry smiled sadly at his reflection, staring at the young face that returned the gesture.
However, underneath his sense of fatality, anger began to mount at the unfairness of it all. A bitter smile wormed its way slowly onto his face, and resentment began to swell from deep within him. His nostrils began to flare, his breathing growing in intensity until it could no longer be contained.
Harry turned around sharply, and the sound of glass shattering rang out as he smashed the mirror against a wooden cupboard. Sharp and uneven pieces fell to the floor before many others met a similar fate until a small pile began to form.
Only when he ran out of mirrors did the sound stop echoing through the room, after which he simply stood there.
Yet, eyes that had once shone with a mixture of defeat and anger now held defiance.
I don't have to accept my fate. Harry thought resolutely. I've been given a second chance, and I will take full advantage of it.
Destroying this Horcrux was a perfect way to get started.
He grabbed the diadem from where it lay before making his way to the exit, a renewed sense of determination coursing within as Harry cautiously stepped out of the room and onto the dimly lit corridor, instinctively reaching for his invisibility cloak inside only to remember its current whereabouts.
Undeterred, Harry pulled out his wand, intending to cast the disillusionment charm before frowning in confusion when the cold sensation didn't sweep past his body.
"Oh, come on," Harry muttered when nothing happened on the second attempt. The third and fourth attempts both failed to produce anything as well.
He brought his wand up to eye level, inspecting it carefully, only to find it in perfect condition. A few nicks here and there, and it was due a good polish, but nothing that would suggest it was the wand's fault.
"Something with my magic, then," Harry theorized, a frown forming. He tried casting a simple Lumos, only to quickly say the counter when the resulting light engulfed the hallway and nearly blinded him with its intensity. "Yup… definitely my magic,"
It felt…off. Not damaged in any way, just…out of tune with him.
He was reasonably sure it was probably the result of having traveled back in time. However, he could look into it another time.
"Hopefully, it fixes itself," Harry said before making his way to the staircase, the diadem grasped tightly in his hand.
Walking down the hallways without a way to conceal himself was a risk, but one he was willing to take. Besides, most, if not all, of the students were already in their dorms, and he was confident he could avoid whoever was patrolling the castle.
Filch and his cat would be the only problem, but if I keep to the more deserted parts of the castle, I should be fine.
It was a longer path towards the chamber, but it seemed to have been worth the effort, as Harry made it to the third floor, a level above his destination, without a problem.
He walked across the hallway that overlooked the courtyard, the sight of the final staircase making him relax when the cultured voice of a young woman sounded out from behind him.
"You should not be outside your common room at this hour."
Harry turned around to explain himself, only for the words to get stuck in his throat when he caught sight of the stern face of Helena Ravenclaw.
Of all the ghosts that I could have run into! Harry thought, hastily trying to stuff the diadem into his pockets.
It wasn't nearly quick or subtle enough, as the desperate movement only drew her attention to the object. However, she ignored it, at least for the time being.
"Is there a reason why you are out past curfew?"
"I…uh…need to do…something," Harry said, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse quickly as the ghost gained an expectant look. He hastily added the first thing that popped into his head. "To the bathroom! I need to use the bathroom."
He plastered the best look of innocence on his face, trying not to wince when Helena raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"The bathroom?" she said, glancing at the red and gold tie peeking from his vest. "And what was the problem with the one inside your dormitory, Harry Potter?"
"It was…busy."
"And your solution was to come down multiple flights of stairs to use, what I assume, is the one a floor below us?"
Harry nodded.
"And the object that is in your pocket?"
"What object?"
A sigh of exasperation left the woman's lips.
"The one you quite poorly attempted to conceal," Helena said. "Please, do not feign ignorance. I would rather not waste any more of my time, so simply show me what it is, and if it is nothing of any great concern, I'll let you be on your way."
"You can't just pretend you never saw me?"
"No."
Worth a try. Harry thought as his mind worked furiously to find a solution to his current predicament.
Trying to convince the ghost to leave him had already failed. Banishing the ghost would have been a decent option, but only a temporary one that would only bring more problems, as the woman didn't appear to be one who could let things go.
Not to mention the risk that the spell wouldn't work with how his magic was behaving at the moment.
"Of course, you can refuse my request," Helena remarked. "However, if you do so, I will be forced to tell your head of house about all of what transpired here, something I doubt appeals to you."
This time, a visible wince crossed his face at her words but not at the idea of Professor McGonagall getting involved.
No, Harry was far more worried that Dumbledore would inevitably find out, and the Headmaster was more than perceptive enough to figure out he had been making his way to the Chamber of Secrets.
And what I don't want is to draw more attention to myself. Harry thought before a sigh left his lips. So, that means my only option is to tell her.
It was a gamble, but one he had to take. The only comfort he had at the moment was that the ghost tended to be tight-lipped about certain things.
"Okay. I'll show you," Harry said before looking at the woman pleadingly. "Just…promise you'll hear me out?"
Helena nodded slowly, watching cautiously as Harry took a deep breath before slowly taking the Horcrux from his pocket.
There was confusion on her pale face as if she wasn't quite sure what she was seeing, and her face only lit up in recognition a second later.
"My mother's diadem…" Helena whispered, a touch of disbelief and longing on her delicate features. A hand inched forward hesitantly, intent on touching the tiara only for her fingertips to pass through.
She gazed at it crestfallen before a look of barely contained outrage descended upon her face, and she turned to glare daggers at him.
"Give it to me."
"I can't," Harry responded quickly, grimacing heavily as that unsurprisingly seemed to incense the ghost further. "Okay, let me explain."
"I do not care for an explanation any longer. That diadem is my mother's, and it belongs to me."
"At least let me explain myself."
"Hand it over."
"You can't even grab it."
"I don't care. Diadem. Now."
"No," Harry said firmly before interrupting Helena when she made to protest. "Tom Riddle…Do you remember him?"
Helena's widened in surprise at that before she eyed him heatedly as bitter words left her lips.
"What does he have to do with this?"
Harry opened his mouth to explain before snapping it shut with an uneasy expression on his face.
"I'll explain why, but what I'm going to tell you is very important, and I'd rather not say it out here in the open."
"There's little risk in being overhead, especially at this hour."
"I don't want to take that chance."
Harry motioned for the ghost to follow him, which she did warily. Not a word was spoken between them until they entered the abandoned girl's bathroom.
"Myrtle isn't here," Harry said with a frown. Not that he had been eager to run into her. It was better for him that she wasn't here. However, he did find it odd.
"She's in the library right now. I would have been as well, but I decided to leave once I saw her, lest I scare her off. She's quite…skittish," Helena explained before looking at him firmly. "Now, perhaps now, I can get that explanation."
"You'll get it. Just let me do something first," Harry ignored the glare he received, making his way towards the sinks, namely one in particular. A look of concentration settled on his face as his fingers traced the snake carved into one of the faucets.
"And what are you doing, exactly?"
"Opening the path to the Chamber of Secrets."
A disbelieving scoff met his words.
"Surely you jest. I doubt the entrance to such a place, created by Salazar Slytherin himself, would be found inside a girl's bathroom."
§ Open §Harry hissed before stepping back. He looked pointedly at the ghost as the hidden entrance slowly revealed itself.
"…That doesn't prove anything. For all I know, this pit could lead to the Black Lake," Helena huffed. However, the look of curiosity shining in her eyes could not be hidden.
"It doesn't. Follow me, and you'll see," Harry said before jumping into the pit without hesitation, holding the diadem tightly against his chest as he slid down. This time, he knew when to brace himself, landing on his feet easily before turning back around, confident that the young woman would be joining him soon enough.
"Perhaps your words aren't entirely dishonest," Helena said as she came to hover beside him, eyeing the place distastefully before turning to look at him. "And it appears that we are isolated down here, so perhaps now I can get an explanation as to why you have my mother's diadem."
"Before I give you one, I need to stress how important it is that what I am going to tell you remains a secret. You do not tell anybody." Harry said severely. "No ghosts, no students, no professors, no portraits. Nobody. Not even the Headmaster. Do you understand?"
"Why not the Hea—"
"Do. You. Understand?"
Helena glared at him, clearly not liking being interrupted, but nodded slowly nonetheless. "…I understand."
"Good. Now, follow me," Harry said, ignoring the huff that left the woman before beginning to walk forward through the dark cave. He was grateful for the glow emanating from the ghost that provided some light to guide their way.
He glanced at Helena, who was following closely behind. "Do you remember what happened during my second year?"
"Quite difficult to forget about the Chamber of Secrets being reopened and the petrifications that happened," Helena snarked before looking at him inquisitively. "I also recall it being revealed you were a parseltongue during that year."
"I wasn't responsible for the attacks," Harry responded immediately.
"I didn't say that you were, although I would be lying if I said there weren't some whispered words being said amongst ourselves. However, those stopped after your friend became a victim," the woman shrugged before eyeing him curiously. "How did you find this place anyway?"
"Guesswork, mostly. Like everyone else in the castle, my friends and I started finding anything we could about the chamber. And it was also around that time that I started hearing voices nobody else could hear. The first time I heard it, I was simply confused, but the second time I tried to find its source and that's when I found Mrs. Norris petrified."
"Along with the writing on the wall," Helena pointed out. "And since you were one of the first to the scene, suspicion immediately fell upon you."
"Of course, I wanted to prove my innocence, so I figured the best way to do that was by catching the culprit. And in my mind, the likeliest person to be responsible was Draco."
A huff of amusement sounded out from behind him, making Harry turn around with an eyebrow raised.
"You suspected the young Malfoy boy?" she asked, a corner of her lips twitching upward.
"It made sense at the time, especially with how enthusiastic he was with the idea of the chamber being open."
"Which would be foolish to do if he was the culprit and wanted to continue attacking students."
"Yeah, well, either way, we figured out he wasn't the one behind the attacks," he said before explaining at the questioning look. "Ron and I used Polyjuice Potion to disguise ourselves as Crabbe and Goyle."
"You brewed the Polyjuice Potion?"
"Not me. My friend, Hermione," Harry admitted, not hiding the proud smile on his face. "She's quite brilliant."
"She would have had to be if she wanted to brew a potion of that difficulty," Helena said. "And how did she manage to keep it hidden?"
"By making it in the second-floor bathroom. No one goes in there because of Myrtle."
"And that is how you found the entrance?"
"In a way, but it wasn't until much later," Harry said. "Not until a girl had been taken into the chamber did I figure it out. Throughout most of the year, I had been picking up bits and pieces of information, and one of them was the fact that the student who died the last time the chamber had been opened had been found in the bathroom."
"The abandoned one Myrtle now resides in," Helena breathed out in realization. "And all you had to do was look around to find the entrance."
Harry nodded before sighing in annoyance as they arrived at the caved-in portion of the cave.
I completely forgot about that.
"What happened here?" Helena asked curiously.
"Lockhart happened. When Ron and I found out where the entrance to the chamber might be, we looked for a professor who could help us," Harry sighed as he eyed the gap that was no longer big enough to fit through. He tried casting a simple levitation charm only to rub at his face tiredly when it failed to grab hold. "Well, that's annoying."
"There are some useful spells you can use to speed up the process," Helena remarked dryly once she noticed Harry begin to move some rocks.
"I do as well, but unfortunately, my magic isn't working properly at the moment."
"That's…peculiar."
"Yeah, only started just a couple of hours ago, and I haven't had the time to look for a solution," Harry told her simply. "Anyway, since we knew we were pressed for time, we forced him to come with us."
"Forced him?"
"By wand point. That man is a useless coward and a liar. The things he claims to have done in his books are stolen from other wizards and witches. He took the feats as his own before wiping their memory of their accomplishments. And he tried to do the same to us."
"What stopped him?" Helena asked, a displeased look on her face.
"Sheer luck. He used Ron's broken wand to cast the memory charm, which backfired, wiping his memories instead of ours. It also caused this portion of the cave to collapse."
Harry gestured to a pile of rocks that now contained a sizable gap. He stepped through it, leading the spirit through the cave, knowing instinctively that he was nearing the wall that served as the entrance to the chamber.
"I was separated from Ron, but while I wanted to try and make an opening, I knew I couldn't waste any more time. Not when every second I spent here was—"
"Was a second less to try and save the girl," Helena said quietly, looking at him oddly. "Why? Why were you so committed to saving the girl? Was she important to you?"
"At that point, not really," Harry admitted. "I knew her, of course, but we only talked a few times—barely a handful."
"Which puzzles me even more. There was no expectation for you to do so. Nobody was pushing you into action, and I doubt anyone would blame you if you didn't, especially given that you were only twelve years old."
"But I had to at least try…if there was a small chance I could do something…" Harry said before the glimpses of a smile made its way onto his face. "I've been told I have a 'saving people thing'."
"An admirable trait to have, but one that will only serve to get you into dangerous situations. Maybe even cost you your life."
"I'm well aware," he said as he rounded one final corner, a quiet gasp sounding out from behind him a moment later.
Just as he had done so several years ago, Harry once again found himself looking at a stone wall, two intertwined snakes in the middle, their fangs baring as they faced each other.
"It is said the chamber was home to Slytherin's monster? Was that true?" Helena asked with a twinge of fear entering her voice.
"It was, but I killed it. So, there's no danger anymore," Harry said simply as he eyed the wall in concentration, not noticing the stunned look sent his way.
§ Open §
The wall split in half instantly before slowly parting to the sides, revealing the beginnings of a dimly lit chamber that he calmly stepped into, followed by Helena, who was trying her best to appear just as confident.
However, her demeanor was immediately shattered once she caught sight of the giant carcass of the serpent lying at the end of the chamber.
"A basilisk?!" Helena shrieked, covering her eyes quickly and covering them with the palms of her hands. "You could have mentioned it was a bloody basilisk?!
"I could have, but I wouldn't have been able to see your reaction," Harry told her, not bothering to hide his amusement. A low growl leaving her let him know she noticed. "And you can stop covering your eyes. There's no risk of you being petrified."
It took her a couple of seconds to summon the courage to do so. She hesitantly lowered her hands while doing her best to smooth her features.
"Apologies for my improper language…I was…surprised," she muttered, a faint dark tint on her cheeks still evidence of her momentary loss of composure.
"I noticed."
Harry simply chucked at the glare he received before staring at the magical beast's dead body, marveling at its sheer size.
A lot easier to do when it's not trying to eat you.
"To think a basilisk of this size was roaming the Hogwarts…" Helena said as she came to examine the beast before turning to look at him with a pensieve frown. "Hold on. How did it manage to make its way up into the castle?"
"The girl who had been taken down here had been opening the entrances for the snake. Unwillingly," Harry hastily added the last part. "She had been forced to do so by a diary."
"A diary?"
"Yes. Belonging to Tom Riddle."
Like it had been earlier in the night, the ghost's response was one of bitter anger.
"That's the second time you mentioned his name," Helena said harshly. "And the first time you did so, I got the impression that you knew it would provoke a reaction from me. How?"
"Because the diary told me," Harry told her, coming up with that excuse easily enough. "It showed me memories of him speaking to you?"
"You lie! A diary is not able to do that."
"Then how do I know that you told Tom you hid the diadem in a hollow tree in Albania."
Whatever retort she had prepared never left her lips as she stared at him in shock.
"How do you know that?"
"Because this wasn't a normal diary. It could speak to you, show you memories. It was…too alive to be any ordinary diary," Harry said while rubbing at his face tiredly. "And given enough time, it can start to control you."
"How?" whispered Helena, seemingly starting to believe him.
"The moment you write on its pages, it starts to gain a hold over you—a compulsion that pushes you to use it. One that only grows stronger the more you do. And while it does that, it begins to drain you of your magic and your life, making you weaker and more susceptible to its influence. Soon, it can start forcing you to do things."
"Like the girl was," Helena said softly, getting a nod from him.
"Exactly. However, forcing someone to open the chamber wasn't the diary's main purpose," Harry said gravely. "Tom feared death. He was terrified at the idea of it, so he sought a way to avoid that fate…and he found it while he was a student here. A dark ritual that allowed someone to place a fragmented part of their soul into an object—a Horcrux."
"You mean…," Helena whispered in realization, a sickened look on her face. "That diary…contains a piece of his soul?"
Harry nodded.
"But to tear apart a piece of yourself? A piece of your very being? How could you even damage it to such an extent?"
"By performing a supreme act of evil. Murder."
The woman inhaled sharply as she looked at him in horror.
"He killed someone? While at Hogwarts?" Helena whispered in revulsion before her eyes widened. "Only one student died during his time here…did he murder Myrtle?"
"She was in the bathroom, inside one of the stalls, when Tom came to open the chamber," Harry explained sadly. "It was just bad luck on her part that when she came out, the basilisk was there."
Helena nodded slowly, sharing his sentiments as she tried her best to digest the revelation. A silence descended upon the pair before her brows scrunched up in confusion.
"Tom could enter the chamber?"
"I had wondered about that part as well," Harry said before gesturing to the floor near the end of the chamber. He started to explain at the questioning look on her face. "When I came here, I found the girl lying unconscious just over there…but I also found Tom."
"Tom? He was here?"
"Partially. The diary had taken enough energy from the girl to bring him back to life. It was only a matter of time until he was, and Tom wanted me to see it. He expected to see me."
"You? Of all people, he wanted you to be here?" Helena asked, puzzled. "What reason could he have had to want that?"
"Because I defeated him."
Before the ghost could question him, Harry raised a finger into the air, mimicking the movements he had seen so long ago as Helena watched with bated breath.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle. That was his full name. It was too common, too much like his muggle father, and he hated that. So, he created a new name, an anagram of his old one, and one he felt was worthy of the wizard who was the Heir of Slytherin." Harry looked at the woman firmly. "I am Lord Voldemort."
"Tom…was the Dark Lord…" Helena whispered. "That's…I—I can't believe it."
"It's the truth."
"I—I feel like I can believe you. That you're being honest with me…It just—just seems…so implausible, but so is all this," Helena gestured to everything around them. "And the idea that the young man I knew would turn out to be so horrible. Use such horrible magic…and make one of those."
"It wasn't the only Horcrux he made," Harry revealed softly.
His words were met with an expression of disgust from the young woman before it morphed into one of dread as he brought the diadem back into view.
"No…my mother's diadem…"
"Sometime after leaving Hogwarts, he went to go and retrieve it before making it into another one of his Horcruxes."
"I told him where it was…Helped him make one of those—those sickening things."
The words were laced with shame, and he felt compelled to try offering some words of comfort.
"Don't blame yourself."
"How could I not?" Helena hissed, and written plainly on her face was an expression of loathing aimed at herself.
"You couldn't have known."
"I should have! Maybe if I had been as smart as my mother, I would have been able to tell."
"Helena, look at me," Harry told her gently. The sound of her name leaving his mouth was enough to get her to look at him, vulnerability dancing in her eyes. "I've been tricked multiple times by him, and I knew what type of person he was. Hell, even Dumbledore has been fooled, and he had been wary of him before anyone."
It looked like she was about to protest but stopped once she saw the sincerity in his eyes. He continued speaking, knowing he was getting through to her.
"Countless wizards and witches, no matter how intelligent or clever they were, have fallen prey to Voldemort. You are not the first, nor will you be the last to be a victim of the Dark Lord. So, don't hate yourself, all right?"
A short silence followed his plea as the woman struggled to believe his words before finally accepting, a shaky breath leaving her lips.
"I'll try," Helena muttered. "And apologies for my…emotional reaction. The diadem is very important to me."
She took a moment to clear her throat before glancing at the crown in his hand. "Is that why you were heading down here before? To destroy it?"
Harry nodded severely.
"I only know of two methods that can destroy such a powerful piece of dark magic. Basilisk venom and Fiendfyre, and I'm not particularly eager to use the second one."
"No, I don't suppose you would be," Helena remarked. "…And what will happen to the diadem?"
There was apprehension in her voice as if she knew the answer but wanted to confirm it.
"It will…damage. Heavily," He tried to be gentle, but it didn't stop the look of dejection.
"And there's no other way? One that doesn't involve completely ruining it?"
"There isn't," Harry told her, lamenting the fact both for her sake and for his. "If there was—"
"I understand. It's just…difficult to accept. Despite everything that happened between us, I still loved my mother. And not a day goes by that I don't regret what I did." A pained look shone in her eyes. "I had harbored hope that one day, the diadem would make its way back to me... that I would have something to remember her by. A connection, however faint."
"I know the feeling," Harry said softly, getting a sad smile in return.
"Yes…I suppose you do."
Helena looked deeply into his eyes before sighing, gazing around the chamber.
"Is it all right if I look around a bit? Just to settle myself…" she asked.
Harry nodded, agreeing to her request. They had shared an emotional moment, and it would be best to compose themselves before attempting to destroy the Horcrux.
It doesn't appear to have any defenses, but better to be on the safe side.
He sat down beside the serpent, leaning back against its body, as tiredness began to seep into his body. A moment to rest was welcome.
At least until she comes back. Harry thought, watching as she drifted away before closing his eyes only to snap them open in what felt like a couple of seconds.
"Ah, you're finally awake."
He blinked owlishly at the woman in front of him before letting out a yawn. She looked much calmer.
"How long was I asleep?"
"A couple of minutes at most. It would have been more, but I had a question to ask you."
"Ask away."
"Where did the basilisk come from?" Helena asked, elaborating further at the sight of his confused look. "I've looked around the place but struggle to see where the snake could have come from. Unless it spent its time here, which it couldn't have as it is much too cold."
Harry made his way onto his feet gingerly, deciding to humor the woman. He stashed the diadem back into his pocket before pointing at the large statue in the middle.
"From the mouth."
The woman quickly turned her head in that direction before looking back at him, curiosity seeping into her eyes again.
"It opens?" Helena asked.
"Yes," Harry responded with a sigh. He was quickly becoming aware of the woman's inquisitive nature. "Tom said something in parseltongue to lower the mouth, letting the basilisk out."
"Do you remember what it was?"
He nodded, feeling where she was going with this. "I don't think you'll find anything in there," he said.
Helena crossed her arms.
"I still want to see."
A stubborn look on her face had Harry making his way over to stand before the statue, if nothing else, to get it over with so he could destroy the Horcrux.
§ Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four. §
Almost instantly, the stone mouth began to move, revealing nothing but an opening bathed in darkness.
Despite his initial reluctance, Harry couldn't deny that he also held a small bit of curiosity, making him step forward toward the mouth. He planted a foot on the uneven platform before backing up quickly as it suddenly rippled. His eyes widened when a set of stone steps began to take shape, rising deeper into the statue.
"How interesting," Helena said softly from behind him.
Harry nodded in agreement as he carefully stepped onto the staircase, tensing a little as runes carved overhead suddenly illuminated it. He drew out his wand and slowly climbed up the steps with the spirit hovering behind him.
This place was unknown to him, and he had no idea what to expect. A hint of apprehension started to well up within Harry as he made his way up the single flight of stairs, the feeling only growing stronger as they neared the set of doors.
Both Salazar Slytherin and Voldemort had once walked inside this very chamber. The founder obviously knew of this place, and he was almost completely certain that the Dark Lord did as well.
It would be naïve for him to think they wouldn't have layered this place with dangerous curses, so Harry kept himself alert, waiting for any indication of a threat towards him or Helena.
Or perhaps they wouldn't need to place extra protection, Harry reasoned, relaxing slightly as they arrived in front of the wooden doors, an action quickly mirrored by the woman behind him. Why would they need to when only those who speak parseltongue can enter?
Voldemort would definitely be arrogant enough to believe no one other than him would ever make their way inside.
"That was quite worrying, wasn't it?" Helena said from behind him, fanning herself with her hand. She tried her best to sound calm, but she couldn't hide the shakiness in her voice. "Well then, open the door. Let us see what's inside."
Harry glanced at her briefly before gradually opening the doors, ready to face whatever lay within. Yet, what he saw once he fully opened the doors was a large bedroom about the size of the Gryffindor common room.
That's…anti-climactic.
Much like the staircase, runes carved into stone walls cast a low, warm glow inside. The room had a pleasant, homely feel, contrasting with the ominous nature of the chamber they had just arrived from.
On the back wall in front of them, on top of a raised platform and with a canopy overhead, was a king-sized bed with dark green covers. To the wall on the right were several bookshelves filled with books, but what captured their attention was the large portrait dominating the left wall, with a small coffee table and leather chair placed before it.
Helena gasped at the sight of what lay within the frame, a response nearly mirrored by Harry.
Sitting on a leather chair in front of a place resembling the Hogwarts Library was a bald, aged wizard with a white goatee that reached just above a familiar locket nestled upon fancy olive green robes. His appearance was angular and severe, enhancing the harsh scowl that was seemingly etched firmly on his weathered and aged face.
Yet, this man's dark grey eyes were the most striking feature as they held a mixture of wisdom, ambition, knowledge, and arrogance shining within them. The power lurking beneath the surface underscored this, and the full weight of it was now focused entirely on the two of them. The fact that it was a portrait did not diminish the weight of his gaze.
Tension flooded the room, an oppressive silence that neither Harry nor Helena dared to break.
His gaze shifted towards Harry, a sneer beginning to make its way onto the man's lip once condescending grey eyes met hardened green ones. Something must have shone within them as a calculating look made its way across the older man's face.
"Am I correct to assume that you killed my basilisk," the man said, his voice surprisingly dignified.
Harry nodded firmly.
"I am."
"And how did you accomplish this?"
"By driving a sword into its skull."
A disbelieving scoff escaped the man's mouth.
"I find that difficult to believe. My basilisk was a monstrous beast. Its sheer size would be too much for dozens of fully grown wizards to deal with, let alone for someone who looks as young as you. And not a single hint of harm upon your person."
"I was even younger when I managed it….and I didn't leave without a scratch," Harry said before rolling up the sleeve of his right arm, revealing the large scar of the puncture he received just above his elbow.
"You would be dead if that was the case."
"I very nearly was. Luckily, I know a brilliant phoenix who was kind enough to cry on the wound."
"Phoenix Tears…I suppose that would be able to nullify the poison."
"So, you believe me?"
"Hardly, but I can't exactly disprove your words now, can I? And whether or not it's true doesn't change the fact that the basilisk is dead. No, I'm far more interested in something else," The man mused before staring into his eyes.
§ I am Salazar Slytherin. §
§ Yeah, I figured you were. §
The founder nodded in satisfaction before sneering slightly.
§ I would be disappointed if you hadn't come to that conclusion. § Salazar hissed, glancing at the ghost before him. "I am well aware of who she is, but what I seek to know…is who you are?"
"Harry Potter."
"A Potter? How interesting," Salazar murmured, looking at him slightly perplexed. "The last person to wander into my chamber was Tom Riddle, and he was quite certain, as was I, that he was my only descendant."
Salazar paused momentarily, reaching up to stroke his beard.
"Is he your father?"
"No," Harry instantly responded, glaring fiercely at the founder. Anger and disgust coursed through him at the absurd suggestion, and he stepped forward heatedly.
"Grandfather?" Salazar continued, raising an eyebrow at Harry's reaction.
"I am not related to him."
"You must have some relation. How else could you have made your way into this room?" Salazar pointed out, a smirk developing on his face when he noticed the young man grasp his wand tightly. "Such a strong reaction to the mere suggestion of the idea. What could he have done to invoke such genuine rage and hatred in your eyes?"
"That man…that monster, murdered my parents. Murdered countless others. He is responsible for plunging the magical world into war, causing death and destruction. All for his stupid obsession with power," Harry hissed through gritted teeth. "So, you'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly thrilled with what you said."
"I see…Then, I suppose your reaction is understandable," Salazar said simply, remaining silent after those words and wholly unbothered by the glower he found himself under.
"You can at least offer an apology," Helena said sternly, throwing a firm look toward Harry, urging him to calm down.
"I could, but it wouldn't be genuine."
"Mother often complained of how difficult you tended to be, and it seems that hasn't changed in the time since then."
"As if Rowena was any different, as you well know," Salazar said, unconcerned at the flash of pain that made its way across the woman's face. The older man turned to face Harry, who no longer looked like he was about to raise his wand. "Enough of that, however. I am still intrigued by how you found yourself before me."
"I can speak parseltongue."
"But you also claim to be unrelated to me."
"The ability to speak to snakes was not only found in your family. There are instances of other wizards also having that ability," Helena asked.
"And the sounds are easy to mimic," Harry added, remembering how Ron managed to enter.
"And that would get them access to the main chamber but not onto this room. Only those with my blood can hope to do so," Salazar asserted. "That is why I was so quick to assume you were related to Tom. There was simply nothing else that would tie you to me…I am absolutely certain of that. However, if that isn't the case, then how?"
Maybe the Horcrux? Harry reasoned as he stared at the founder, a deep frown on his face. Maybe it gave me a bit of Voldemort's blood along with parseltongue...but that seems like a stretch.
"…I don't know," he answered softly after a moment, breaking the small silence that had fallen among them. He made his way to the only chair present, sinking into it with a tired sigh.
Salazar was staring at him as if sensing Harry was withholding something, but his attention was diverted before he could press the issue.
"Perhaps there is another relation?" Helena suggested softly, getting an immediate shake of the head.
"There is none."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I researched the matter thoroughly."
"How?"
Salazar gestured to the frame in which he was encased. "This. Is my magical portrait."
"Obviously," Helena said dryly.
"And it is unlike any other," Salazar pronounced, a hint of smugness entering his voice. "I was highly aware of how isolated I would be down here, how completely oblivious to the passing of time I would be. So, when I made this portrait, I modified it to prevent that."
The founder gestured behind him.
"This is much more than a representation of Hogwarts Library. It is a connection, a means to stay informed. Every book housed within those walls I could summon with only a thought, and I did so for centuries. I have read every book, and that is how I am certain there is no other relation."
Salzar took a moment to look firmly at them to get his point across. Only when they nodded did the expression ease a bit.
"It is one of the finest pieces of magic I have ever produced, and it served me well—at least until…"
"Until what?" Helena asked.
"Until Tom severed the connection," Salazar muttered darkly.
"Why would he do that?" Harry asked.
"Because I denied him information. He had been seeking an obscure type of magic—something vile, something abhorrent. But when I refused to tell him, he lashed out. Attempted to hurt me."
"But you're a portrait."
"He was well aware of that fact, but Tom was resourceful, creative, and more than vindictive enough to rob me of this ability that I had come to value so much…I have been blind to the world above ever since he left."
"And you would have stayed that way for who knows how long since, as far as he was aware, he was the only one able to enter this place," Helena said, getting a nod of confirmation. "He must have coveted that type of magic desperately if he reacted in such a way. And it must have been something truly foul if even you, one of the darkest wizards in history, refused to tell him."
An inquisitive look made its way onto her face before she threw the smallest of glances in Harry's direction, who wore a similar expression.
I wonder…? he thought as he debated whether or not to ask, glancing at the ghost beside him, who seemed to have the same idea.
However, there was also a hint of pleading in her expression, making his brows knit together in confusion. It was only when she angled her head slightly towards the portrait that it dawned on him.
She wants to see if there's another way to destroy the Horcrux—an alternative that wouldn't ruin her mother's diadem. Hisfingers brushed lightly against the tiara stashed in his pocket as he looked at the portrait, conflicted. But could I tell somebody else of its existence?
It would be increasing the number of people that know, and this time intentionally.
He had made the decision to tell Helena earlier, knowing it was risky but one he had been forced to take. The alternative was having his knowledge of Voldemort's method of immortality exposed to Dumbledore, whom Harry wasn't entirely sure he could trust completely.
Should he do so again? Take another risk?"
Of course, I can't trust Salazar entirely, either, Harry thought, looking thoughtfully at the founder. But how much more of a risk can telling Salazar be? He's completely isolated down here, in a place where only Voldemort and I can enter.
He leaned back against the chair, rubbing his face tiredly. His hand briefly touched the scar on his forehead, reminding him of the predicament he once again found himself in.
Then there's that…
He would have to deal with this Horcrux eventually.
I really don't fancy having to die again to destroy it.
An alternative would need to be found, and Harry wasn't naïve enough to think it would be something he could do alone. He would need help finding a solution. However, only two people possessed the wealth of knowledge to do so.
Dumbledore and Voldemort.
One led me to my death, and the other was the one who killed me. Not the greatest options to have…But I might have another one.
Of course, this was based on the assumption that the founder knew about Horcruxes, but he was more than confident to bet that he did.
A gut feeling and those tended to be right.
Usually.
Coming to a decision, Harry stood up and pulled out the diadem, drawing a grateful look from the women beside him as he placed it on the small table before them.
"Rowena's Diadem," Salazar whispered, recognizing it immediately. "It was thought to have been lost forever."
"I always knew where it was…and I swore never to reveal its location…until…" Helena said softly, her voice trailing off, and a shameful look crossed her face.
"Until Tom managed to worm that secret from her," Harry continued for her. "Sometime after he left Hogwarts, he went to go and retrieve the diadem…and made it into a Horcrux."
Something between a snarl and a hiss left the old man's mouth as he eyed the diadem in revulsion, "So, he did manage to figure it out."
"How much do you know about Horcruxes," Harry asked, relieved that his assumption had proven true.
"Everything. I've absorbed whatever bits and pieces that have withstood the test of time. And it has been more than enough to understand what a wretched piece of magic it is," Salazar said, still eyeing the diadem before muttering darkly. "To think another one of my family would be foolish enough to do this…"
Harry's eyes narrowed in confusion, but before he could ask, Salazar scowled harshly at the pair of them.
"I assume you know how to destroy it?"
"We do, but before that, there is something I need to know," Helena cut in as she glided forward, wringing her hands nervously. "Is it—is it possible to remove the soul while keeping the diadem intact? It's my mother's. And... if there is a chance to preserve it…so I can have something of hers…"
Salazar made to argue against it before noticing the emotion written on the young woman's face.
"I…am not aware of such a possibility.
"As far as you are aware," Helena pressed with a hint of hope in her voice. "That doesn't mean there isn't."
"Yes, as far as I am aware," Salazar admitted, a small sigh escaping his lips. "Hogwarts contains a vast wealth of knowledge within its walls, but it cannot claim to possess all of it. The history of magic is immense, and it is spread out across the entirety of the world. While finding another method is something I consider borderline impossible, I cannot rule out the possibility that it might exist."
The founder glanced at the two before pinching the bridge of his nose.
"However, I can see the determination in your eyes, so I will not try to dissuade you. My suggestion is to begin researching the first known wizard to successfully create a Horcrux: Herpo The Foul."
"The first wizard to breed the basilisk?" Helena asked.
"The very same. A dark wizard from centuries ago who delved extensively into the Dark Arts. He created many violent curses and developed a counter-curse for each one he made."
"Which might suggest he did the same for the Horcrux," Harry said.
"It is unlikely, but it is as good as any starting point," Salazar said, shrugging. "However, I must point out that you will not find anything other than a couple of passing references within the Hogwarts Library.
The founder paused, taking a moment to think, idly stroking his goatee.
"Families with a darker reputation might possess more information, but how you gain access is another problem entirely."
"You could always marry into them," Helena said suddenly, making Harry turn to her wide-eyed. "There are quite a few girls from prominent families that you can become engaged to, some even around your age."
"I am not marrying someone just so I can get some books."
"It is merely a suggestion."
Harry looked at the young woman in disbelief before tiredly rubbing his face.
"It is a…reasonable suggestion, though it would be prudent to explore other options before seeking any potential maidens," Salazar said, his tone suggesting he found that a viable option.
"What about Knockturn Alley?" Harry asked, moving the subject away from the idea of a potential marriage but not before glaring at the portrait. "Could I find anything there?"
"There is a good chance you might," Salazar said approvingly. "And if not there, maybe it might be of interest to visit other magical communities in countries of a…darker inclination."
"Like Albania," Helena suggested.
The man nodded at the young woman before pointing to the bookshelves on the other side.
"There should be a book that lists all the magical communities in Europe. Bring it here so we can begin looking through it while I tell you which are worth visiting."
"Wait, wait, wait," Harry said, holding a hand up in protest before rubbing at his eyes. "Let's save that for another time."
"Why not now?" Salazar asked.
"Because I'm tired."
"And?"
"And I want to go to sleep. Something you two might not need, but I do."
He desperately needed to get some rest after a long day.
A long and eventful day.
It wasn't so long ago that he was in the midst of an intense magical battle, died at the hands of the Dark Lord, met the physical embodiment of Death, and then transported back in time.
Not to mention everything that happened as soon as I got back, Harry thought, glancing at the large, king-sized bed off to the side before turning to face the founder, who seemed to reluctantly accept his words.
"Is it all right if I sleep here?" Harry asked. "I don't really fancy having to walk all the way back to my dorm."
"You may," Salazar answered, raising an eyebrow as he watched the young man sluggishly walk away before looking at Helena. "And if you are willing, I suggest we begin looking for any potential places to visit."
Harry faintly heard the young woman agree from behind, his mind already slipping as he flopped onto the bed. He barely managed an appreciated look toward the curtains of the canopy closing shut, giving him sweet silence before falling asleep.
A/N
Harry has already started to do things differently, and that has brought about changes. Some are small, and others are much bigger.
Hope you enjoyed it.