Lucius Malfoy was still acting headmaster of the school by the end of the month. And the school was becoming less and less functional the longer he ran it, since it was clear his only actual interest was turning it upside down, purportedly looking for the monster and anything related to it. Areas of the castle were constantly being cordoned off to be thoroughly searched by the Ministry guards, including classrooms. When and if the students and teachers were allowed back in, the rooms were inevitably tossed like one of those haphazard searches in crime TV shows. Anything that could open was left open, books and other objects were left strewn on the floor, and scuff marks were left all over the stonework looking for secret compartments.
They probably would have had their persons and personal belongings searched as well, but the heads of house presented a unified front on that point. For all that it seemed to be a fairly medieval-style society, Vanaheim had rules about crimes and searches that kept personal belongings from being searched without strong suspicion of misdeeds. But Harry figured that it was only a matter of time before Malfoy decided that the Soul Stone had to be hidden in the second-year Gryffindors' room, or maybe just in Harry's pocket.
Overall, there probably wasn't a faster way to get the whole of Hogwarts to start hating the man. Even the Slytherins seemed unhappy, since they were being inconvenienced at class time just as much as the other houses. Once they could figure out a way to do personal searches legally, Harry was sure they'd spare Slytherin, but until then the school was pretty united in their frustration.
At least there hadn't been any more attacks. But, if Harry's theory about Malfoy being behind the black book was true, he hadn't expected there to be.
With the end of Eostre-Month looming, Harry was doing his best to prepare for something big happening. They'd drilled extensively on magic, escape, martial arts, and swordfighting. They'd helped Hermione with her "extra credit" holdout potion brewing. They'd even made plans for sneaking around the school when Malfoy's goon squad finally came for him (not that he had a Soul Stone to hide).
The crisis that came wasn't the one he'd expected. On Sunday evening, the last day of Eoster-Month (sometime in late April on Earth), with no moon in the sky, McGonagall showed up in the Gryffindor dorms and started frantically organizing the prefects to do roll call.
Other than Colin and Percy (still in comas in the hospital wing, though Snape's mandrake restorative potion was expected to be ready very soon), they came up one member of Gryffindor short: Neville Longbottom.
"Rector McGonagall," Hermione asked, "what's happened?"
"Another message," she admitted in a frustrated voice. "Right where the first appeared after the attack on Mrs. Norris. 'His skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.' But why? Why Longbottom?"
"How long until they use this as an excuse to search Gryffindor?" Harry asked.
"Oh?" McGonagall got his meaning. "Probably not long." She fixed him with a firm look and finally said, "I should go about telling them, I suppose. Everyone should stay as safe as possible." With another glance to make sure he'd gotten the message, she headed out.
"I'll get the holdouts," Hermione offered.
"I'll make sure there's nothing for them to find in our trunks," Harry nodded.
"I'll get the twins to make a distraction," Dean concluded.
Within five minutes, they were sneaking out of the dorm under Harry's cloak (which wasn't technically big enough for all three of them, but the twins had made an excellent distraction).
"We need swords," Dean suggested.
"And probably the only person here that's fought a Nidhogg serpent," Hermione proposed.
"Can we trust him?" Harry asked.
"We have to trust somebody," she shrugged. "This is definitely a trap, right? That we shouldn't just walk into without some kind of adult help."
"We never cleared Neville as a suspect," Harry agreed. "He might have just kidnapped himself."
They made it to Fandral's office without encountering any patrols that might have seen three sets of feet poking out under an invisibility cloak, though they took the long way around just in case there was a guard on Myrtle's bathroom. Harry stowed the cloak before heading in.
"Are you three supposed to be out?" Fandral asked.
Hermione explained, "We need swords, sir. We have to fight the Nidhogg serpent and save Neville Longbottom."
"Well that sounds like a fine adventure!" the Asgardian grinned. "Count me in!"
"That easily, sir?" Harry checked.
Fandral shrugged, "I only really have the one sword that's not a practice blade." He gestured unnecessarily at his own rapier by his side. "So I suppose I must go on this quest. To do battle with Harry Potter! It will be a fine story."
"I guess… we should confirm we can even get into the Chamber," Harry said.
Dean suggested, "If we find it, maybe we could get Snape and Flitwick, too. They're duelists."
"It's in Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione said, matter-of-factly. Three faces looked at her expectantly for the explanation, so she elaborated, "Both messages outside. Myrtle died in there. Mrs. Norris attacked right outside, as if she was just a target of opportunity. Percy and Penny Clearwater were in this hallway. Colin and Justin weren't too far away." She gave it a beat and suggested, "I bet it has something to do with that sink that has never worked."
"Well reasoned," Fandral told her. "I'll award points if you're correct. Give me a moment to get dressed for combat, and we'll away." He went into his attached bedroom to change, and shouted back, "Pity this seems like it's time-sensitive. With Thor preparing for his coronation in a month, he and my companions are likely unreachable in a timely fashion."
"I didn't realize we could have called Thor," Dean grumbled. "We should have done that days ago."
"I'm sure it will be fine," Fandral grinned, emerging in his leather armor topped with a cuirass of shiny Asgardian steel. "Let's move."
The walk down to Myrtle's bathroom was as short as it had been on Halloween, and there were not any guards watching it, though they could see the message still scorched into the stone of the wall. Harry was a bit disappointed, as it might have really helped to have some trained warriors along. Maybe they could be convinced to come along once they got the door open.
"Myrtle, are you in here?" Harry asked before sticking his head in. There was no response, and he poked his head into the far stall, "Strange. I wonder where she went off to. Hope she didn't get eaten when Neville was taken."
"In your own time, Harry," Fandral lounged against the wall nearest the sinks.
"Right," Harry agreed, then walked over. "Which of these is it?" he asked Hermione, and she pointed at the one in the corner. He poked at it for a minute, then realized that if it was a secret button or latch, someone would have found it in the prior centuries. But if it was something only the Heir of Slytherin could open… he knelt down and saw that there was a snake motif etched on the brass fittings in the back of the sink, tarnished over the years but still visible. "Open?" he asked it.
"That's a little creepy, man," Dean told him.
"Did it sound like hissing?" Harry checked, and Dean nodded. "I wonder if it did anyth–"
Fandral had to flail his arms and almost toppled over forward, as he tried to avoid falling into the void that had suddenly appeared in the wall he had been leaning against. A hole of at least six-foot diameter had suddenly emerged in place of the bricks, as if Wile E. Coyote had painted it on to fool the Roadrunner. The "walls" of this new tunnel were outlined in faint blue light, but it quickly tilted away and out of sight.
"That doesn't look like a convergence portal," Hermione said, obviously interested. "Maybe it's a hidden night road, right in the castle!"
"Hm. Only Harry can open it with his whisper-speech?" Fandral checked. Harry nodded, so he added, "Then he should stay here while the two of you go get any warriors you can. I'll advance through and leave Harry here to re-open the gate if it closes."
Hermione beamed, "What an excellent idea. Only… do I get those points, sir?"
"Yes. Twenty points to Gryffindor for solving a mystery of the ages, Hermione. Now, off you go." Fandral told them, while doing some stretches, readying himself to jump into an unknown void.
"We'll be back in a few minutes," Dean assured them, as he and Hermione left the bathroom.
Harry suggested, "I don't know if you need to go in without backup, it could be anyt–" He was cut off as Fandral reached over, grabbed his shoulder, and flung him into the shadowy void.
Going through a night road wasn't like going through a convergence portal. During a convergence, the worlds were conceptually right next to each other: you could just step through. The night roads were, well, roads: pathways that wended through the "roots" of Yggdrasil. They took a discernible amount of time to travel through, even if that time was much less than with even the best FTL spacecraft.
This one was rather like a long slide.
When Harry was spat out of the other end, he almost caught himself but then skidded on some loose gravel and went sprawling on a cold, uneven stone floor. In the few moments he had to get his bearings, he determined that he was in some kind of immense cavern, lit by vaguely-bluish luminescence that traced along and into the stone as if he was literally inside the root structure of the World Tree: the light coming from ephemeral shoots that had dug themselves through the rock of an entire planet. There were gaps in the ground near him where roots had shifted over time, and when he looked down, he could only make out a blackness that was darker than the void of space itself: Ginnungagap.
Like several of the Nine Realms, Niflheim was in a part of the universe where the normal rules of physics didn't all apply. As far as Professor Sinestra knew, nobody had ever gotten a look at the world from a spaceship, to try to rationalize where space ended and the void between worlds began. But falling into one of those holes into the endless darkness was not recommended.
In addition to the root structure, there were a handful of boulders and several long, decaying leathery strips at least two feet wide, that could very well be shed snakeskin.
Harry had gotten to his feet and moved a safe distance away from any of the holes before Fandral came tumbling out of one of the roots, decanted almost like one of those old pneumatic-tube delivery systems out of glowing blue glass. Harry tried to remember it as his night road out, but had to pay attention to the armed and probably-mind-controlled Asgardian who did not trip, but was cursing. "Ow. Oh, that was terrible. Did you feel crushed in there?"
"I'm not Aesir," Harry shrugged, watching the man warily. If he was in pain from having to force his way through a night road, maybe Harry had a chance.
"Right. Only Bifrost from now on," Fandral agreed, fixing Harry with his blue-eyed stare. "Now, let's go on that adventure."
"You're really trying to pretend you didn't shove me into the portal?" the boy asked.
Fandral sighed, "Would be easier if you believed it. I was never good at lying. Exaggerating, sure. Not lying. I guess we can go ahead and do this here, then. Where is the Stone?"
"Don't have it," Harry said, backing up slightly as Fandral took a step toward him, making sure to keep a pit into Ginnungagap between them.
"But you've had it," Fandral insisted. "Otherwise, the words of Father would have worked on you."
"Father?" Harry checked. "Not the Allfather. Aren't you betraying Odin?"
The Asgardian waved a hand in dismissal, "It'll all work out. I think they'll all get along great, once the court learns of Father and his mission."
"When did you learn of his mission?" Harry checked. "Did Malfoy give you the book in the Leaky Cauldron."
"No, actually," Fandral said, still slowly circling trying to trap Harry without turning it into a chase. "Longbottom showed it to me early on. I've been having to hold it since his attempt to show it to you, of course. Nobody searched the teachers." He withdrew the black journal with his off hand and showed it to Harry. With the book revealed, he could almost feel it trying to attack his mind from across the cavern.
"Why not just 'show' it to everyone?" Harry checked, cursing internally that he hadn't followed up on Neville's odd behavior all year. He vaguely remembered that Neville had mentioned being harassed by the Malfoys as he got on the train, and that was probably when he was slipped the book.
Fandral gestured to his eyes, "When your eyes have been opened, it's a distinctive look. Not a lot of blue-eyed Vanir."
"I knew I remembered Neville having brown eyes!" Harry said. "That's why Malfoy was trying to give it to the Weasleys at the Leaky Cauldron!" Most of the Weasleys had blue eyes, which would have made it much less noticeable.
"Perhaps. We also ran into some issues with long term adherence to the words of Father. Tends to slip away when we slept, without access to the book, so the circle had to remain small lest we be discovered." Fandral smiled, "But you're getting me off track telling stories again."
"Wait. That wasn't an act to keep us from learning anything?"
"I like telling stories," Fandral frowned, offended, drawing and brandishing his sword. "Anyway, I think you understand your situation now, Harry. You're off planet where your wand won't work. Not that it would be much of a help against me anyway. Steel and skill beats magic in any kind of fair fight."
Well, with a straight line like that, Harry had to act. Without preamble he wandlessly summoned an energy whip and lashed it to wrap around the man's sword, jerking it free from his surprised hand to clatter on the ground nearer to Harry. Fandral's surprise turned to annoyance, as he started to charge at Harry, who deftly let the whip dissipate (he'd been practicing since the dueling club), removed a holdout, and uncorked the bottle. He pointed the small phial away from him and put his other hand over his nose and mouth as dark purple fizzing steam erupted into Fandral's face.
He gave Harry a confused look for a moment as Hermione's heavily-carbonated sleeping draught took effect, then slumped to the ground unconscious, the book still clutched in his hand. Harry kicked it away from Fandral before it could do something like wake him up.
"Actually…" Harry considered, squinting in annoyance at the evil book. Trying to take it to Dumbledore hadn't worked very well the last time, and he didn't completely trust the old man with such an obviously-powerful artifact anyway. Plus, there were these convenient bottomless pits right there. Before he could rationalize himself into hanging onto the cursed tome, he kicked it into Ginnungagap.
He liked to imagine he could hear it wailing in frustration as it fell into the eternal void.
Wait, that wasn't the book, it was a human voice. "Right. Neville," Harry sighed. As much as it would make sense to try to go back and get help for real, he had no idea how long that slide down the night road had taken, or whether Neville would still be in one piece when he got back with help. He leaned down and picked up Fandral's sword, which he probably wouldn't miss while he was unconscious, wishing he could be sure that disposing of the book would free the man from its control. The sword was heavier than practice blades sized for twelve-year-olds, but well-balanced and meant to be light and quick, so he thought he could manage. He wrapped it in his invisibility cloak, and put it through his belt, where hopefully it wouldn't be obvious to any enemies, then headed in the direction of the screaming. Before entering the room he said, "Hey, Fjalar," as loudly as he dared, trying to wish his magic into the mythic rooster's name like a summon. "If you're on standby, I could use whatever help you can bring."
The unworked cavern he'd started in quickly made way through a smaller opening to a cave that had been carved into a church-like underground structure. While the ceiling was still lit by the blue lights of the roots of Yggdrasil digging through, they didn't reach the ground. The floor had been chiseled flat, and the walls smooth, with columns spaced every few yards along the edges done in a snake motif. At the end of the room, the wall was sculpted into a massive face: a beautiful woman with curved spikes radiating almost like multiple stag's antlers from her head.
There were also two young men and a giant snake standing near the face.
It was hard to concentrate on Neville and Tom Riddle while fixated on the snake. Neville seemed to agree, as Harry realized he was screaming not because he was actually being harmed, but because he had just noticed the monster. Coiled into a small hill, the Nidhogg serpent's head was probably bigger than Harry's torso, and he wouldn't be surprised if it was over seven yards long when uncoiled. It also looked almost as much like a dragon as a snake, with horns and other protrusions lying flat against its head, and bony segments along its length rather than totally smooth scales.
"Quiet, Longbottom," Tom Riddle ordered, spotting Harry. "Our guest is here."
"Harry! There's a giant snake!" Neville yelled. Harry was kind of hoping it was because the mind control had just worn off rather than another trap.
"Yeah, Nev. I know about the snake," Harry said, strolling up and stopping perhaps ten yards from anyone else, close enough to a column to use it as cover if necessary. "How's it going, Mort?"
"You came… alone?" Tom asked, looking past him.
"My mate was in danger," Harry shrugged. "Obviously I rushed off without thinking about it. How'd you even know I'd be able to get here?"
Tom smirked, "We worked out what it meant that you could hear the serpent in the walls."
"I'm sorry Harry!" Neville said, "I don't know why I was helping him and Fandral? I showed both of them the book. And Myrtle too. And I paralyzed you to take the book back!"
"Worked that out Nev," Harry told the boy. "Feeling better?"
"I never actually saw the snake!" Neville boggled, moving back toward the wall and Harry. "Tom was in charge of the snake!"
"Tom?" Harry deadpanned. "I thought your name was Mort."
"It wasn't meant to be a hard puzzle," Tom rolled his eyes, moving a few steps closer to Harry. "I'm guessing you didn't bring the Stone?"
"Couldn't get to it even if I wanted to. It's in the safest place possible," Harry shrugged.
"Back on Vormir?" Tom asked, quietly enough that Neville might not have overheard.
Harry's eyes actually widened and he asked, "How do you know about that?"
The draugr smiled, "Who do you think set that up? It was in my family's ring. For generations, they didn't know what they had until I inherited it. Once I figured it out, I created a safe place for it. Imagine my surprise when I summoned a guardian spirit and got the Red Skull."
"So… why have you been hurting people all year trying to find out where it is?" Harry tried to keep up with the sudden conversational shift.
"I haven't," Tom shook his head. "The Mind Stone is powerful, but its control tends to wear off while you're unconscious. It didn't last long after I came back here. After that, I was playing along as little as I could to keep them from hitting me with the book again."
"You still put four people into a coma!" Harry insisted, then remembered, "And a cat!"
Tom shrugged, "Small price to pay to convince our enemies that I was still on their side while I stalled."
"Our enemies?" Harry checked. "You're my enemy. You killed my parents!"
"I didn't!" Tom actually looked offended, gesturing down at the wide hole in his chest. "I died before your parents were even born! Maybe before your grandparents."
"You're… not Lord Voldemort?" Harry checked, adrift.
"I was going to be," Tom admitted, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. "I had a bunch of wealthy friends that thought the same way I did. Big plans to gain political power on Vanaheim. The Soul Stone as my ace in the hole. And then some aliens showed up trying to make a deal. They wanted the Stone. They wanted me to work for them. They demanded that I turn my completely valid political movement into a bunch of terrorists that were basically trying to kill off about half the population of Vanaheim."
"A fifty-fifty chance…" Harry remembered something Gamora had mentioned.
"Exactly," Tom said, still angry over half a century later. "I said no. It wasn't even a fight. As powerful as I fancied myself, I lasted about ten seconds. Maybe if I'd had the Soul Stone on hand it would have been closer, or maybe I would have just lost it to the jerk. I guess we'll never know."
"So… the Death Eaters were just working for the same person that sent the book?" Harry checked. "Who wasn't you?"
"I've been dead, so I don't know for sure. But probably? I expect they just replaced me with some kind of figurehead leader claiming to be me," Tom elaborated. "In hindsight, always meeting in masks and cloaks probably wasn't my best idea ever."
Harry leaned against the column, totally nonplussed, as he realized his villain was in another castle. He summarized, "So the Lord Voldemort that killed my family and terrorized Vanaheim for years was… an alien murderer using your people to try to kill half of Vanaheim and maybe find the Soul Stone while he was at it?"
"About the size of it," Tom admitted. "By the way, since you didn't flinch when Longbottom mentioned Fandral, I'm assuming you took care of him already?"
"Unconscious in the other room," Harry admitted, gesturing behind him. "And I kicked the book into Ginnungagap."
Tom considered, then shrugged, "He may be able to recover it from there, but that must have also cleared remaining mind control. Probably why Longbottom suddenly went sane. I suppose the great void between worlds is better suppression for the stone than sleep. Might have been better to have it to use, but I wouldn't want to risk trying to undo the enchantments controlling it with no resources. Not a bad success for a kid. Good job, Harry."
Harry started to nod at the praise but then realized, "Wait! You did kill Myrtle! And framed Hagrid! And put a bunch of your classmates into comas!"
Tom just shrugged, "You got me. I'm not a nice person. I didn't really mean to kill Myrtle, but I didn't realize she was in the toilet when I opened the passage, and I couldn't have her knowing about it. I poisoned her and blamed Hagrid and his weird pet everyone knew he had. In hindsight, I could have handled it better. I kind of panicked. I had a whole plan with the serpent to gain allies that would know I was the Heir of Slytherin." He sighed and shrugged, clearly not feeling guilty about it. "Would I do it differently if I had it to do over? Yes." He gave it a beat and then said, "But, let me make it up to you. We can accomplish so much working together."
"Was this all to… try to make friends?" Harry checked.
"You've got a much better success rate than I have," Tom pitched. "You as the Chosen One. Me giving you advice and assistance with training and research. We'll get vengeance for me and for your parents. What do you think?"
Neville had been quiet through the whole pitch, and Harry glanced over at the boy, close enough now that Harry could see his eyes were back to brown. His friend flicked his eyes to Tom and his face went tight, giving a subtle head shake. He'd been mind controlled, but he'd probably had a lot more interaction with the sociopathic ghost in the past few months than Harry'd had in the two conversations he'd had with him. And Neville didn't trust him.
"Why didn't you tell me all of this months ago?" Harry stalled.
Tom admitted, "I didn't know if Longbottom had gotten any of your other friends, and you kids can't keep a secret. He might have gotten me under control again. Or they might have gone with their fallback plan and tried to control the whole school. Seemed too risky until I could be sure you or that old manipulator had handled it."
"What about the snake?" Harry asked, not particularly buying that excuse, but pretty sure the Nidhogg serpent (functionally solid since they were all in Niflheim) would be a pretty big problem if he decided to tell Tom where he could shove his offer.
"He should be happy enough to stay here," Tom shrugged. "But a useful ally if we need him. I assume you can talk to him as easily as I can. The gift of the Peverell bloodline."
"Ah, this one also understands me?" the snake suddenly hissed.
"Have… we been speaking Parseltongue this whole time?" Harry checked.
Both Tom and Neville shook their heads, turning toward the suddenly-involved giant snake.
"I understand your human tongue," the serpent explained. "And that it sounds like you're betraying my Mistress… who will be pleased to note that the Soul Stone is on Vormir."
"I order you to–" Tom began, furiously hissing at the serpent.
"You were never my master, merely a useful tool," it interrupted. And suddenly, barely slower than a striking snake a fraction of its size, it launched itself to crush the completely-surprised draugr of Tom Riddle in its oversized jaws.
Harry's eyes widened at the sudden change in circumstances. He really only had one thought, and that was, "Neville. Run!"
