I do not own Harry Potter nor World of Darkness
Forbidden Forest, Hogwarts, 24th May 1993 (Monday)
Harry blinked, unsure how to respond to the creature.
"Worry not child. We might serve the Great Destroyer in… different ways, but we ultimately serve the same purpose. We clean the canvas of creation, making sure things die once their time has come. After all, the new cannot be born if the old still occupies its space. - Aragog put one hand over Harry's shoulder, gently pulling him to the side. - Walk with me, boy."
Theo, Sally, Daphne and Ron looked at Harry's desperate plea for help, but when they tried to take a step, an angry clicking of the spider's mandible forced them into stillness.
Harry and Aragog walked along a path around the giant forest trees, the giant trees quickly hiding the silhouettes of Harry's friends. He was on his own.
"What's your name, little Drone?"
"Harry, sir. Harry Potter."
Aragog nodded.
"So, Harry, what brings you to our corner of the forest?"
"I… well, we wanted to ask Hagrid about the Chamber of Secrets, and…"
Aragog's face darkened.
"Ah, yes. That accident from… I believe it was almost half a century ago. A sad memory… I caused Hagrid a lot of problems when I was blamed for the whole thing. Poor lad never truly recovered, but still wishes to be a friend of my clan… I wished I could have cleared up the mistake, but my kind isn't trusted amongst wizards and coming forward would have only made things worse."
Harry took a few seconds to puzzle everything together. What sort of creature was he speaking to? He claimed to serve the Wyrm and could somehow puzzle together that he was too… could this guy somehow sense that he was a Fomori? What was he doing in the forest? Why…
"I see you have many questions, little Drone, but neither me nor my children have the patience to answer them all. You came here to get your answers, I suggest you keep your mind from wandering and start asking them before you and your friends overstay your welcome."
The voice was stern, not too different from the tone Sir Harold used during their intensive training. This man had no time for him, and would not humor him by answering any question he didn't like.
"Do you know where the Chamber is?"
"I'm afraid I cannot help you locate the chamber. I have explored little of the caste, and that was decades ago."
Harry nodded, understanding but disappointed nevertheless. Maybe…
"Do you know the identity of the monster?"
"Of course I know what the monster is. Are you implying that you don't?" Replied the spider with a tinge of disappointment.
"No… uh… sir?"
"Really? How unusual… You should be able to feel it. It is an ancient Wyrm spirit after all, it should have a noticeable presence if you know what to look for… Do you not study them? I was under the impression the castle was supposed to be a school, surely one of the professors knows…"
Harry didn't respond, looking down at the floor with a mix of shock and disbelief. They spent almost the entire year looking for the identity of the monster and the solution had been here all the time?
Aragog scoffed in disappointment.
"Pathetic. If your kind knows so little about the residents of your own Realm it's a wonder how you haven't accidentally gone extinct… Perhaps we should have seen the Impergium to its completion. I can't believe the Hakken were right…"
Harry gulped. He was afraid to ask, but he had to know the creature's identity.
"Sir…"
"It's a Basilisk, you stupid Drone. - said Aragog, clearly annoyed. - An ancient Wyrm spirit that has been, disheartedly, corrupted beyond sanity over its centuries of forced service."
"A spirit?" asked Harry, confused.
"Yes, Drone, a spirit. - said Aragog dismissively. - Don't they teach about them in your school?"
Harry shook his head. Why was this creature expecting him to know all of these things? And why wasn't anyone teaching them at Hogwarts… was this another House elves situation?
"No, sir. Maybe they used to, but… they don't anymore."
Aragog scoffed.
"Sometimes I wonder how come your kind are still alive… - he sighed deeply. - Listen here and listen well: spirits are everywhere, on both sides of the Gauntlet. Some remain deep in the Umbra, leaving only a shadowy imprint on this side. Others, like the Basilisk, manifested fully in corporeal form. That means that it can be banished back to the Dark Umbra where it hails from."
"How can we do it?"
"For folks that don't know the first thing about the Umbra? You kill it. It'll probably reform, somewhere in the Dark Umbra, but that shouldn't be a concern for you…"
"How do we kill it?"
"The same way you kill everything else, stupid Drone!"
Harry paced forward, following the example of the creature. It seemed like Aragog wasn't willing to share more information about the subject. But maybe, if he asked for something else… Like that nickname the creature kept using for him…
"Sir… Why are you calling me Drone?"
"That's what you are. A mortal bonded with a Weaver spirit. Surely, you cannot claim to have not noticed the changes after the event."
"Oh… So, a Drone is like…. a type of Fomori?"
Aragog chuckled.
"You think you're a Fomori? No, no, no, no, no. A Fomori is bonded with a Wyrm spirit. You are bonded with a Weaver spirit, meaning you are a Drone."
"But… but… The Rust Spider…"
Aragog cut Harry's objection short, tapping his head with his walking stick.
"All Spider spirits are of the Weaver, not of the Wyrm. No exceptions. Even…"
Harry stopped on his tracks, his mind shot into overdrive. Not of the Wyrm? No. Impossible. Blasphemous!
"No, I… You… you must be wrong! You're… you're lying! I was blessed by the Wyrm! I… know I have been blessed by the Wyrm! You… You're lying! You're in cahoots with the Garous, aren't you?! You…"
Aragog's cane slammed on the ground with violence, a wave of terror washing over Harry and forcing him to watch as the old man's face contorted in rage. His face twisted, his jaw splitting open to reveal the fangs of a spider, while numerous eyes, just as white and dead as the others, appeared onto Aragog's face.
"Do not dare put me in the same boat as the Garou, insolent Drone! I should string you up by your feet and drain your liquified entrails through your eye sockets for this insult."
Harry gulped, silenced by the display.
"Listen until the end of the explanation, stupid Drone. - he took a deep breath, his face slowly returning to a humanoid shape - Like I was saying… Even my own kind is born of the Weaver, despite our allegiance to the Wyrm. It is possible that, like my clan, the particular spirit you are bonded to switched allegiance to a different master, but that does not change what it is. It doesn't change who we are and most certainly, it does not change what you are. When a Garou dances the Spiral to join in the glory of the Wyrm, it is still a Garou. Their connection with the Wyld is still present, even if they have walked away from it."
Aragog resumed his walk, his slow steps soon joined by Harry's run to catch up to the old spider. Harry was still processing what he had been told, and the two continued to walk in silence.
Before Harry could answer any more questions, Aragon slammed his cane on the ground.
"It seems like we made it back. I suppose it is getting rather late for children as young as you, is it not? You should head back to the castle."
A flash of relief washed over the group of students, still surrounded by a swarm of giant spiders.
"Well, off you go then. The forest is dangerous and we can't risk anything happening to such promising young wizards and witches, can we?"
The spiders stepped back, opening up a path for the students to leave through. Aragog pushed Harry towards his friends with surprising strength for his old and sickly frame, almost sending him crashing into Ron.
The group turned towards the castle, ready to leave the forest and the colony for good.
"Oh, one last thing. - called back Aragog - I don't think I need to explain that everything you learned here tonight is to remain among the five of you. What do you humans say? I scratch your back and you'll scratch mine? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth? I'm sure you understand. After all, with a Basilisk roaming the castle, an extra death or two wouldn't really feel out of place , wouldn't you agree? Wouldn't want you to end up haunting a bathroom like the last victim, would we?"
Under the light of their wands, Aragog and his giant children collapsed into a tidal wave of microscopic spiders, skittering away and fading into the dark as if they had never been there.
Slytherin common room, Hogwarts, 25th May 1993 (Tuesday)
"Who's Moaning Myrtle?" asked Harry.
"The ghost that haunts the girl's bathroom on the second floor." explained Daphne.
"And you think she's the Basilisk's victim? The Elizabeth Warren we couldn't find anything about for months was haunting a bathroom on the second floor?"
"Aragog said her ghost haunts a bathroom, right? Well, she's the only ghost in Hogwarts haunting one! She's the right age, she used to be a Ravenclaw… it fits!"
Theo frowned "Why didn't we ask the ghosts? We wasted months for nothing."
"So, you two go talk to her, we 'discover' the monster is a Basilisk and then we tell the teachers?"
"Or… we could just tell Professor Snape." suggested Theo.
"And when he asks how we know? Basilisks aren't exactly second year material… and besides, they are supposed to be extinct! He will demand an explanation as to how we know and 'I was in the forbidden section looking through this N.E.W.T. level book on extinct dark creatures' isn't going to cut it. Are you going to tell him about Aragog?"
Theo shuddered at the thought. He wasn't sure whether the creature could actually carry out his threats, but he had no intention to poke the giant spider and see whether he could.
"Ok, you two go talk to the ghost while Harry, Ron and I will go to the library and look up Basilisk."
"And how exactly are you three supposed to get into the restricted section of the library?"
Theo smiled.
Library, Hogwarts, 25th May 1993 (Tuesday)
"Good morning, Madam Pince." said Theo with an exaggeratedly large smile, immediately raising suspicion in the librarian. No one greeted her unless they needed a favor… or did something they shouldn't have.
"Mr. Nott. Do you need something?"
"Well, you see… Mr. Potter and I were reviewing some of our notes on the creation of Glamour and… well, it turns out we got a small discrepancy. We checked with Mr. Weasley, but he has something completely different from the two of us. So, we were wondering if perhaps you could let us into the restricted section? We just need to check on a couple of Fae studies books."
The librarian took a sigh of relief. It was just a request for something out of the rules. She was almost afraid the boys had thrown a book into a fireplace or something equally stupid.
"Mr. Nott, you should be well aware that you're not allowed in there."
"I am aware, Madam Pince, but we will stick to the Fae studies book. We have been using them for months now, you know we won't damage them."
The librarian's glare moved to Ron.
"Perhaps you and Mr. Potter know how to handle them, but Mr. Weasley here hasn't really shown the same care as you. He would benefit greatly from learning a thing or two from his older brother."
"I can be responsible!" objected Ron.
"Correct, Mr. Weasley. You can be responsible. You merely choose not to be. And that's why I can't allow you into the restricted section, let alone leave you unsupervised."
"Fine! If you supervise me, can we get in?"
The witch pondered it for a second, not noticing Harry's eyes flashing red.
"I suppose I could. But remember, Weasley: I have my eyes on you."
With Madam Pince's attention focused on Ron, Harry had little issues in picking up the 'Exotic Creatures now extinct' book and mixing it with the ones from Fae studies.
Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land,
there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk,
known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may
reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born
from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of
killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs,
the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are
fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders
flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the
Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.
Curiously, one of the few substances capable of blocking a Basilisk's
deadly glare is a Basilisk's own skin, most likely born as a defensive mechanism
against others of its kind. This protective property is maintained
when the skin is shed, and although the protection is greatly reduced, it is more
than enough protection to turn instantaneous death into petrification.
As such, should a researched attempt to collect the highly valuable venom
of a Basilisk without killing the creature, it is highly recommended to
wait until the creature is on the verge of shedding and collect its skin to fashion
a set of protective gear, which in most cases takes the form of a cloak.
In extreme rare circumstances, the Basilisk's own molted skin does cover
the monster's eyes as well, and hitting them with a long-lasting sticking charm will
prevent it from properly shed. After a few months, multiple layers of unshed skin will
cover the monster's eyes, offering a layer of protection that, if combined with the
pre-emptive consumption of a Mandragora Restorative draft, renders the Basilisk's
otherwise lethal stare completely harmless.
Harry smirked, copying down the passage before gesturing to Theo. As the boy asked Madam Pince a question, she barely even registered Harry putting back one of the books, not even thinking about checking why it looked a lot more recent that the rest of the Fae studies textbooks.
"But how's the Basilisk been getting around the place? - said Ron. - A dirty great snake ... Someone would've seen it."
"I don't know! Aragog said it's a spirit, maybe it just walks through walls?" said Theo.
Harry, however, stopped dead in his tracks. It was so obvious!
"Not through the walls… it's inside the walls!"
"How?"
"I'm so stupid… Barnaby said the pipes were designed for a castle twenty times this size!"
'"Pipes!? It's been using the plumbing?!" almost shouted Theo.
Ron suddenly grabbed Harry's arm.
"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets! - he said hoarsely. - What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in…"
"…the gir's bathroom on the second floor." said Harry, eyes widening in realization.
The bathroom where the only victim of the Basilisk had been found. Because she had seen the entrance of the Chamber.
The same bathroom they had sent Sally and Daphne.
Girl's bathroom on the second floor, Hogwarts, 25th May 1993 (Tuesday)
Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the cistern of the end toilet.
"Hello, Myrtle." said Sally, hesitantly.
"Oh, it's you - she said, when she saw Daphne and Sally. - What do you want?"
"We wanted to ask a few questions."
"And why is that? So you too can laugh about me too? Who would ever talk about ugly, miserable, moping, Moaning Myrtle?"
"We…We wanted to ask you about Elizabeth Warren. It was your name, right? Back when you were a student."
Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. Her own moping-self loathing attitude almost shifted into that of a serious, almost glacial persona.
"How do you know about her?"
"We wanted to ask you… her - swiftly corrected herself Sally. She didn't know why Myrtle referred to herself in the third person, but if that was the game the ghost wanted to play… Well, she held all the cards now. - We wanted to know how she died."
Myrtle looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question, her icy glare shifting back to the much more familiar attitude.
"Ooooh, it was dreadful. - she said with relish. - It happened right in here. She died in this very cubicle. I remember it so well. She'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing her about my glasses. The door was locked, and she was crying, and then heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got her was that it was a boy speaking. So she unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then… She was dead."
"How?" Asked Daphne.
"No idea. - said Myrtle in hushed tones. - She just remembers opening the door and then… Myrtle was born."
She looked dreamily at nothing.
"When I was born. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at her glasses."
Daphne leaned forward, inspecting the sink in front of Myrtle's toilet. The ghost didn't give them any reason to suspect a Basilisk, so she would need to be a bit more blunt with her approach. Still… Maybe there was something on the sink that would help Myrtle remember? It looked like an ordinary sink, but there must have been something unusual about it. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Sally saw it: scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.
"That tap's never worked." - said Myrtle brightly, as she tried to turn it.
"Well, there is a snake engraved here. Myrtle, do you remember any snakes? Does it remind you of something?"
"Maybe a big snake?"
"Or maybe some hissing? Did you hear anything like that?"
"You… You're making fun of me! - shouted the ghost. - You're just like Olive Honby!"
With a shreeching wail, the ghost launched herself into one of the toilets, splashing water all over the bathroom. Daphne sighed.
"That didn't work."
"Do you think we'll be able to convince the teachers the monster is a Basilisk without Myrtle?"
"We have to try. Do you think Professor Lockhart will agree not to ask about how we learned about it?"
As the two girls left the bathroom to join back with their friends, a younger redhead, hands clutching a black diary, rushed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
Notes
Well, wasn't that a lore dump... I don't really like lore dumps, but I hope the underlying tension was enough to make this chapter interesting enough for you.
So... Harry's not a Fomori, but a Drone. Effecticely nothing changes, but it is a small seed of doubt in his mind...
The Basilisk's a spirit! Unfortunately there isn't a 1-on-1 conversion to something from WoD, so I had to essentially homebrew the Basilisk as its own entity. I always thought that the fact literally no one died furing its attack was a bit too convenient, so I added a tiny alteration to canon to make it a tad more realistic. It's not like this change is gonna affect the story flow... Also, it does sort of explain why people might have just dismissed the idea of a Basilisk being the creature responsible. After all, if we knew some kind of animal was stabbing people to death, I don't think 'wholly mammoth' would be on anyone's list of possible culprits...
The confrontation with the creature is getting closer! Hope you're excited and I sincerely hope you find the resolution of this arc satisfactory