I'm back, witches! And wizards! And mages of other gender identities! And Muggles and…you know what, I'm not going to bother listing everyone. The point is, I know it's been three days since my last blog post. It feels longer, doesn't it? Like it's been almost two months. But no, three days. Now you may be wondering where I've been. After all, for those of you who've forgotten, things are heating up, what with that damnably familiar kid trying to blackmail me, Hermione being possessed by Voldemort, and me actually managing to get a D on my last Charms assignment. Which never would have happened if I hadn't been consumed by worry over Hermione, and that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Anyways, I'd love to regal you with some dramatic tale of why I've been absent, something thrilling and with daring do, but the simple fact of the matter is I dropped my phone in the toilet. Yeah. Not my finest hour. But I was able to get Professor Burbage to fix it up for me. Magic is really helpful sometimes! And now I can tell you all about what's been happening to me recently. There is a lot to tell. You're probably not going to believe all of it, because I hardly believe it myself. And given how weird and chaotic the last year or so has been, that's a pretty high bar to climb.

To start off with, Peter, or whatever the heck his real name is (ugh, if only I had taken a picture of him, then I might remember why he looks so familiar), sent me a copy of Mum's first video. It's…a lot. Pretty darn significant. A part of me wonders if Peter is making it up, faking it through AI or something, but, no, it's impossible. This is the real deal. I'm attaching it here and now.

TRANSCRIPT

[A redheaded woman, my mum, Lily Potter, sits in a chair at a desk in what looks to be a hotel room. She's visibly pregnant, maybe five months, with who could only be me.]

Hi, Harry. If you're watching this, well, then the worst happened. Or maybe I've changed my mind and decided to let you watch these videos anyway. With popcorn. Or pop tarts. Tartcorn? No, that doesn't sound right at all. [Yeah, it kind of looks like my ADHD went down her side of the family.] It sounds vaguely dirty, actually.

[Mum pauses and mulls over her tangent in her mind. Trust me, I know she's doing that, because I've done it myself a ton.]

Lily…?

[Now this voice is quite unmistakable. It's the one and the only James Potter. My dad. Mum is busy writing something furiously down on a sheet of paper in what looks like a bizarre conlang. Dad sticks his head into the frame and gives me a grin. People say I look like him. I don't see it.]

Sorry about that, deerling. Your mum loves you very much, of course. She just gets distracted often.

You say that like it's not one of the things you love most about me, James!

[Dad gives a fond smile.]

Mum wanted to tell you about something Dumbledore just told us. Don't you, Lily?

[For a second, I swear I heard Hermione in his voice. I guess it takes a certain person to be able to deal with people like us, right? Mum finally put her pencil down and nodded grimly.]

Yesterday, Dumbledore told us there was a prophecy made about you. It was made by a woman named Sibyl Trelawney. I don't trust her at all. It's utter hogwash and Trelawney is an evil, conniving bitch.

Lily!

Fine, she's a morally ambiguous, conniving bitch. Trelawney thinks a child born at the end of July – which'll be you so long as everything goes according to plan – will have power Voldemort knows not. [I noticed Dad twitch a little.] And he'll vanquish Voldemort and everything will be hunky dory, as if this doesn't solve the multitude of issues facing our society! Voldemort is just the tip of the lance – the rot goes all the way down to the bottom!

[Dad clears his throat.]

Sweetie, maybe we should save the political rants for another time. Right now, Harry probably needs to hear some encouragement if the worst happens.

[Mum sighs and looks straight at the camera.]

I love you, Harry. If the worst happens, you'll be raised by someone I trust implicitly. [She must have wanted me to be raised by Hestia, I assume. What a pity that didn't happen.] But if something's happened to me, you need to continue my legacy. The Statute of Secrecy is not only inadvisable, but evil. It's dragging down our species and actively preventing us from becoming the best versions of ourselves. Smash it to bits! Tear down the world if you have to! Destroy –

And the video ends there. So there's a lot to unpack. First and foremost, let's get this prophecy thing out of the way – it's hogwash. Mum's right. Trelawney is a lunatic or a con artist, not a real seer. I believe in free will, and I don't believe anyone controls my destiny. Second of all, I…uh, I'm starting to believe that maybe some of the terrible things I've been hearing about Mum might just be true after all. Some of them. Not all of them, of course. But she comes across as really extreme. And, even more worryingly, I see a ton of similarities between her and me. It's just she's political and I'm not. All in all, I don't care about politics, unless said politicians are hurting my friends like Umbridge did.

It's really great to hear my mum and dad's voices. But I've decided I'm not going to play Peter's game. His intentions may be good, but he's playing with fire. At this point, I'll confess to some hypocrisy on this subject, since my blog is a walking breach of the Statute of Secrecy, but the idea of collapsing the Statute entirely fills me with fear. Mum may have thought the consequences were worth it. Maybe she's right. But I can't bring myself to make that choice or even be partially responsible for helping smash the Statute. There's a reason I'm not a Gryffindor. I'm too scared of the potential consequences – hate crimes, human experimentation, maybe outright genocide. I know Peter thinks he's avoiding those consequences by trying to destroy the Statute, but I don't believe he can do it. And, honestly, the fact I'm being extorted with the only records I'll ever have of my parents' voices is just beyond the pale for me. I find it to be personally insulting. So let's leave that aside for now.

Now that we know Voldemort is possessing Hermione, Ron and I knew we needed to move quickly to stop whatever nefarious plots he has. A huge basilisk who can kill with just a glance isn't just a threat to this school – it's basically one of the most effective weapons of mass destruction out there, magical or Muggle. As much as it pains me to kill a snake, I decided it had to die.

Of course, Voldemort wasn't idle while we were plotting. In order to stop someone from killing the basilisk, he slaughtered all the roosters in the area. I felt bad for poor Hermione, having her body used as an instrument of such carnage. I just hope she won't remember it when all is said and done. But as usual, I'm five steps ahead of everyone else, except myself, who I'm usually two steps behind. Voldemort didn't know about the marvels of the world wide web. I just got a recording of a rooster's cry off the internet and called it good. Science. It works!

On a night we were sure Voldemort was asleep (I paid Millicent to give Hermione a sleeping potion), I dragged a resigned Ron over to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom under my Invisibility Cloak. Ron was not happy we had to go in a girl's bathroom in order to save the day, but sometimes, you got to do what you got to do, right?

We ran into Ginny on the way there. Literally collided with her. "What are you two hooligans up to?" she demanded, her hands on her hips. She looked adorable, though the fact she had the Sword of Gryffindor strapped to her back belied that a little.

"Well, what are you up to?" Ron shot back.

"Definitely not going into the Forbidden Forest to hunt acromantulas."

"Well, we're definitely not going into the Chamber of Secrets to slay a basilisk," I said persuasively.

Ginny's eyes lit up. "You guys are gonna kill a basilisk?! That's so cool! Can I come?!"

"No. Because we're not going to do it, as I said."

Ginny got down on her knees. "Please, please, please? I'll make it up to you somehow! Slaying a serpent is classic knightly stuff!"

What did she just say? Ishtaran demanded.

"Not you, Ishtaran," I muttered. "Look, Ginny, this is not going to be as glamorous as it sounds. We're going to go there, play a recording of a rooster, and it'll drop dead. In and out in three seconds."

Ginny sighed deeply. "Fine. But the next time you have an epic fight, you have to invite me!"

"Absolutely," I lied. Like I'd ever let Ginny anywhere near our next fight. I'd never hear the end of it from Ron. "And if you happen to see Hermione, make sure she doesn't follow us!"

"Do I want to know?"

Ron shook his head fervently. Ginny grumbled a lot as she walked away.

Don't ask me why the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in a girl's bathroom. Probably some weird quirk of history. But it was. I found a tap with a snake carved on it and, making sure to look at Ishtaran to activate my Parseltongue, commanded it to open. I was a little surprised myself when it happened. A part of me believed our informant had really just been dreaming when she saw Hermione activate the tap. The same part of me, probably, which doesn't want to believe Hermione is possessed. But that part of me is stupid and doesn't get a say. Hermione is possessed and the Chamber is real.

We walked through the tunnels of the Chamber, treading carefully to make sure we didn't catch the basilisk's notice. Ron looked about to pass out from fear, but he pressed on anyway. Hermione is our friend and there's nothing we won't do to help her, even if it meant facing off against a horrible monster.

"I hear something!" Ron said suddenly.

I played the recording from my phone…and it didn't work! The beast kept coming and I closed my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest, cursing myself for not letting Ginny accompany us.

Hi there! a perky female voice which sounded like it belonged to someone my age said.

I opened my eyes out of sheer surprised and looked at the basilisk hovering over us. I wasn't dead! Somehow. Now that I could examine the basilisk closer, I could see that its – or, I guess I should say her – eyes were clouded. "Who are you?"

You just tried to murder me in cold blood, the basilisk pointed out. Pretty sure I should be asking you that question first.

Okay, I have to admit, I did not have the basilisk being sentient on my bingo card. Which was kind of strange, in retrospect, given that I have a snake as my steadfast companion. "I'm Harry Potter. This is Ron Weasley."

The basilisk let out a squeal of excitement. Somehow, despite the fact it was being done by a forty foot snake, it was a lot less frightening than the squeals "Hermione" had been giving lately. Oh my gosh, I am such a huge fan! Love your blog! Actually, I appeared to you in a dream last year. You know, the whole lady of the lake thing? Spirit of Hogwarts? I have to admit, I'm a huge Monty Python fan, so it kind of influenced me a little.

Well, that explained a lot. "Uh, so do you have a name?"

Right, right! I'm Theophania Slytherin, but you can call me Tiffany!

I'd like to say I handled that revelation with dignity, but the truth is, I slipped in a puddle and fell to the ground. After Ron helped me up, I decided to pretend that had never happened. "I'm sorry, you're the Theophania Slytherin? Slytherin's daughter?"

History tells us that Theophania – well, Tiffany I suppose I should call her – died of what most people assume to be smallpox when she was just my age. Supposedly, she caught the disease from a Muggle, which is what caused Slytherin to abandon his previously egalitarian ethos and adopt a policy of blood supremacy. Personally, I always found that explanation to be suspect. I'm not a historical expert, not like the talented Professor Binns, but I've done some light digging into Slytherin's past and I can't help but note that none of what we know about Slytherin actually comes from the man himself. It comes from accounts from people like Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and especially Hufflepuff.

Tiffany gave an elaborate flourish, causing what must have been a minor earthquake. The one and only! In the flesh! Well, not my flesh. Not my original flesh. It's been a thousand years since I've had my original flesh.

I barely even knew what to say. Ron didn't have the same compunctions. "Cor blimey, no one ever told us Slytherin had a thing with…well, your mum must have been…one heck of a big snake. Harry, she's not going to eat us, is she?" I shook my head.

Tiffany giggled. I like him! He's funny! After I translated her comment to Ron, he blushed a little.

Tiffany went on to explain her sad tale. Slytherin had been as egalitarian as history indicated. He hated blood purism with a passion and believed women should have equal rights to a level probably unmatched by all of his contemporaries. However, he was a bastard in all other respects, a sociopath who killed anyone who stood in his way of acquiring more magical power for himself. His only love was for his wife. And when she died in childbirth, Slytherin blamed Tiffany for it. He was cruel and abusive towards her. Vernon would have been proud of how much he despised her. When she was twelve, Slytherin tried to force her to marry a man five times her age. When she refused, Slytherin cursed her, transforming her into a basilisk and exiling her beneath the school.

For the past millennia, Tiffany has been trapped in Hogwarts. There is a magical barrier physically preventing her from leaving the grounds. She's learned all sorts of magic, more magic than I can even dream of, though she's never been able to actually use any of it. When indoor plumbing was invented, she was able to move within the pipes and spy on the classrooms and corridors. But for hundreds and hundreds of years, she's been stuck, unable to do anything but watch life move on without her. The only person to talk to her in all that time besides me was Voldemort fifty years ago, who tried to convince her to kill Muggleborns for him. When she refused, he mind controlled her into attacking students. Despite her best efforts to keep the attacks to petrification, she did kill one innocent student, Moaning Myrtle. I don't blame her for this. Voldemort's magic is powerful. If someone as strong willed as Hermione can succumb to it, no one is safe.

Voldemort eventually framed Hagrid for the killing and moved onto other evil schemes. But now Voldemort is planning on having an encore because clearly he's an idiot with no originality in any way whatsoever. Fortunately, Tiffany convinced him to wait until Halloween for the sake of the holiday's symbolism.

"What can we do to stop him and destroy the Horcrux?" I demanded.

Oh, I have no idea, Tiffany admitted. If I knew, I would have done it myself. They don't teach that kind of dark magic here at Hogwarts and Father, for how horrible he was, never would have touched Horcruxes with a ten foot pole.

Great. Now we were back to square one. Well, maybe there was a way to at least deprive Voldemort of his superweapon. "Tiffany, is there a way we can get you back to human?"

Tiffany sighed. There's a ritual, but it's impossible for you to pull off. It has to be done by a Parselmouth half-blood and a Slytherin descendant of King Arthur. Slytherin as in the house, not the family. Neither of those things are possible in of themselves and forget about getting those people to work together.

I gave a huge grin and looked over at Ron, who took a step backwards almost instinctively. "Rhongomyniad, old chap, I think your time has finally arrived."

"Don't ever call me that again."

It took a few days to collect the materials we needed for the ritual. It would have been done faster if we didn't have to avoid Voldemort. Now that I knew his true identity, even spending time in his vicinity made me feel dirty and used. It was unavoidable, of course. And I didn't come close to giving the game away. I'm a Slytherin – cunning is my nature. But still, I spent a lot more time showering during that time.

We were supposed to assemble all the materials in a ritual circle in the Forbidden Forest. We saw Ginny as we were walking through the dense foliage. She didn't see us because we were under an Invisibility Cloak. She was accompanied by several first years, all of whom were armed with various swords and looked as adorable as they were bloodthirsty. "WHAT IS BEST IN LIFE?!" Ginny screamed.

"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their men and/or women!" Ginny's minions dutifully recited.

"DAMN RIGHT!" Ginny screamed and then she let out an unholy screech and ran in the opposite direction from us.

We stood there in silence for a while. "I think you might want to write your mum about this," I suggested.

"Yeah," Ron said ponderously. "Ginny'd probably kill me, though. Maybe literally."

Admittedly, I'd be a hypocrite if I got angry at people for breaking the rules or even putting themselves in danger. But I don't mind a little bit of hypocrisy if it saves the people I care about, or even just the people they care about like Ginny. Running into the Forbidden Forest in search of monsters was incredibly, phenomenally dangerous. Walking into Forbidden Forest to conduct a untested ritual to change a basilisk back into a human, on the other hand, was just really dangerous, so that was fine. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

"Where is –"

Hi everyone!

I let out a shriek and jumped into the air as Tiffany slithered into the ritual circle just as we finished setting up all the parts of the ritual. I was shocked she even knew the ritual in the first place. It turned out Slytherin, because he was a complete asshole, told her about the ritual solely to give her hope and then take it away from her when she learned about the seemingly impossible requirements. I'm really starting to hate that guy. A part of me wants to try and get the house renamed, but let's face it, more powerful people than me have been trying to do that for centuries. My goals may be ambitious and lofty, but they're achievable. I know a lost cause when I see it.

Tiffany jumped up and down in the air with excitement. It was almost adorable if, you know, she wasn't a gigantic terrifying looking snake. Ron gave a sickly grin at me. I can't wait to be free! I've been dreaming of it for so long. I'm going to learn how to play the piano. And see the ocean. And eat a corn dog!

"You go, girl!" I said with a thumb's up.

"Harry, are you sure this is a good idea?" Ron whispered to me. "I mean, she's a…a basilisk. What if this is all a trap? What if we're just making her free to leave Hogwarts and kill anyone she wants?"

Tiffany let out a snort, clearly hearing Ron's comment. Just because my name is Slytherin doesn't mean I have a cunning bone in my body. House-wise, I think I'm a Hufflepuff through and through.

"I trust her, Ron," I said. "I know what it's like to be trapped." Memories of all those years in the cupboard under the stairs flashed back to me. I twitched a little as I returned to lucidity. "I can't bear to see anyone innocent deprived of their freedom like that. If Tiffany wanted to kill people, we'd all be dead."

Ron nodded and turned towards Tiffany. "I didn't mean to make you mad. It's just…after what happened to Hermione, I've gotten a bit paranoid."

Understandable.

We positioned ourselves on opposite ends of the ritual circle. Even after seeing all this magic at work, I wasn't sure ritual magic like this would actually work. We'd acquired items representing the four classical elements and the four humors, positioning them precisely equally between each other. Ron and I recited the words of the ritual. It was written in Old English and very difficult to pronounce. It took more than a dozen tries to get it all done perfectly. But when it was, there was a flash of various colors. The circle flared with light like an aurora.

And after a final pulse of light that temporarily blinded me, there was a girl standing in front of me.

Tiffany Slytherin was small and slight, looking almost as if a stray gust of wind might blow her over. Despite her physical weakness, I could practically sense the magical power rolling off of her almost in waves. This was a girl not to be messed with. I have a hunch that if it came down to a straight magical duel between her and Voldemort, she could – not necessarily would, but could – wipe the floor with him. Her hair was dark brown and very long, reaching almost to the small of her back. Her eyes were a piercing shade of green a few shades lighter than mine. Probably the same one Slytherin had – no wonder his house color was green with eyes like that.

Ron stared at her face with complete awe in his expression. His face was flushed and his eyes were wide with almost veneration. He didn't even notice the fact she was completely naked. I mentioned that, right? Well, if I didn't, she was completely naked and he didn't care.

Tiffany scowled. "My boobs are down here, you know."

"I…uh…"

She waved her hand and she was suddenly dressed in a pair of very distressed jeans, steel-toed boots and a Nirvana T-shirt. Who knew the basilisk liked grunge? "Just messing with you, Ron." She suddenly leapt on me with a hug and then proceeded to hug Ron even tighter than she hugged me. Ron's face was beet red.

"Thank you," she said fervently. "Thank you so much. I don't even know how to begin repaying you for what you did to me. I'm free! After so many years, I'm back to being me!"

"Can you help us free Hermione?" I begged.

Tiffany sighed. "I really don't have the slightest clue how, sorry. If you need anything, send me an owl." She started to walk away.

"Wait!" I shouted and Tiffany turned around. "Where are you going?"

"I'm free now, Harry," Tiffany explained patiently. "I've been stuck here for a millennium. I told you, I've got things I want to do."

I couldn't just let her leave forever. She was a potential friend, to say nothing of an invaluable primary source of the founding times. "But we wanted to talk. Ron has a lot of things he wants to say to you, don't you, Ron?" He nudged me so hard I almost fell to the ground.

Tiffany gave a warm smile. "Harry, I get it. I really do. How about this? I'd like to learn to actually use all this knowledge I've acquired, so I'll be back here after the winter holidays and enroll as a student."

I suppose that was the best thing I could hope for her. Even though Tiffany looked twelve and probably was mentally a twelve year old, she wasn't really one. She could handle herself, at least for a few months. "But what about saving Hermione? We could really use your help."

"No!" Tiffany shouted. The trees rattled from the force of the shout. "I've given enough of my life to 'guarding' the students of Hogwarts. I deserve time for myself. You can do it, though. You saved me. You can save her too. Good luck, Harry."

And with that, she ran off into the distance. I hope I see her again, though not as much as I bet Ron hopes, right? In the meantime, we scored a major victory against Voldemort and saved Tiffany from durance vile. So I'm feeling pretty darn good about myself.