A chapter every two weeks kind of sucks, but at least this one's a moderately long one. Oh, and I felt bad, so I'll be posting another chapter with this.
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Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.
The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Blackest of Nights
XII. Within the Chamber
"Oh, so very close! Go on now, try again -"
Light streamed faintly through the large windows of the Defense classroom. The sun shone between the many clouds, and yet the snow continued to fall. Harry watched as it covered the Hogwarts Grounds.
It's beautiful.
Near Hagrid's hut, the Whomping Willow shuddered violently. Sheets of ice flew off it in arcs, forming mounds in a large circle around the withered tree. A few birds jumped in fright.
Harry forced his gaze away from them all, turning back to the classroom. It was practically pandemonium; nearly two dozen students hovered in the air, doing their very best to control their movements. What remained of their numbers chased after something small and nimble, coloured a vivid sapphire blue.
Zoom.
Harry spun in the air as the Billywig soared past him, its wings twirling above its head. He just barely managed to avoid the long, thin stinger at its end.
The last thing I need is to get stung for a fourth time.
"Mind the stinger!" warned Professor Lupin as Seamus Finnegan lunged at the peculiar insect, "The more times you're stung, the less effective the counter potion will be!"
Harry grimaced.
Definitely don't need to be stung a fourth time.
The air whirled around him. Harry watched as Nott slowly hovered closer, waving his arms wildly in the air. It didn't seem to be helping very much.
"This is stupid." he complained irritably, "I shouldn't let you talk me into this."
"I didn't." Harry reminded him, "We haven't a choice."
"We didn't have to actually try to catch it, though." Nott leaned forward almost desperately as he began to rise higher, "We could've just stood and watched from the side - ouch!"
Harry winced as Nott's head slammed into the jaw of the dragon skeleton.
"Careful, you two!" called Professor Lupin from somewhere near the front. They both nodded back.
"I reckon Daphne's feeling real smug right about now." muttered Nott, rubbing the back of his head, "First time she's been right about anything . . ."
He trailed off, his body turning around in the air at the slowest of paces. Harry let his eyes roam the room as he waited. Bespectacled orbs latched onto a pair of icy blue eyes. The girl with the braided blonde hair watched him with a wide, amused smile.
"You probably shouldn't look anywhere near the left hand corner when you finish turning back 'round." said Harry absentmindedly.
He smirked as Nott groaned.
"Gloating, isn't she?"
"Yup."
Nott glanced conspicuously at the end of the room where Professor Lupin yelled something at the few students who still had both feet on the ground. Once he was sure he was clear, he quickly wrapped his arms around the dragon skeleton, hoisting himself upright.
"I suppose it wasn't that bad." said Nott decidedly, "We almost managed it."
"I actually caught it." Harry moaned, "I had it in my hands, I fully, properly caught it -"
But Malfoy just had to provoke the stupid thing.
Harry glanced at the blonde haired boy. He was practically glued to the ceiling, where he lay with his back pressed against the roof, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.
Nott glared up at him.
"Stupid git." he hissed, eyeing the several markings that lined Malfoy's forearm, "He deserves each and every one of those stings -"
"It got us a fair few times, though." Harry's gaze trailed over his arms. Three marks, all a deep dark red, covered his pale skin.
"Got me three times." muttered Nott, "Same with you, right?"
Harry nodded.
"That's two less than him." Nott nodded up at Malfoy, "I reckon we'll be fine once we've had the potion."
"How effective did Daphne say it was again?"
"Moderately." Nott answered slowly, "One or two stings are no problem. Three might be. Five definitely is."
Harry grinned. They both turned down as a rapid onslaught of curses reached their ears, and their eyes went wide as Seamus Finnegan zoomed past them. The Irish boy shot up to the roof, slamming right into Malfoy's shoulder.
Nott sniggered loudly.
"That was a pretty decent catch, by the way." he added, turning back to Harry, "You'd probably make a good seeker. Definitely better than Malfoy, that's for sure."
Wham.
The two of them looked up. Seamus and Malfoy were tumbling around the roof of the classroom, fists flying. Neither of them seemed able to hit the other; whenever they got close, the air around them would churn, and they would spin slowly through the air like a dandelion in the evening breeze.
"I doubt that's saying much." mumbled Harry, watching as Malfoy clung desperately to a thin wooden plank jutting out from the ceiling, "And I don't think it's my sort of thing, either."
But Nott shook his head.
"Your father was a seeker when he went to Hogwarts." he told him, "My mother mentioned it once. He was supposed to be really good, too. I think he would've gone on to play professionally if it hadn't been for the war."
Harry frowned. His eyes slowly edged closer to the man standing near the end of the room, the one in the shabby, torn-up robes.
Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin . . .
After what felt like forever, the bright blue Billywig lay fast asleep in its cage, its wings curving over its body like a sort of blanket. Lupin was walking along the center of the room, sending potions their way with a few waves of his wand.
"Drink up!" he told them all, pulling more vials out from his briefcase, "It'll sort most of you out straight away -"
He paused, glancing up towards the space just beneath the ceiling.
"You four, on the other hand," he continued, his gaze jumping between Harry, Nott, Malfoy, and Seamus, "You lot might have it a bit harder."
Harry's fingers curled around one of the four glass vials that soared towards them. He gently pressed it to his lips. It tasted a bit like cherries.
Someone should show this to Madam Pomfrey. Who would've guessed cures could taste decent.
Harry felt his body tense, and he gently sank to the floor. He sighed as his feet pressed against the wood floor.
That's better.
"Well?" asked Daphne, her voice pressing softly against his ears. There was a sort of cheeky amusement within it, "What did you learn?"
Harry didn't open his eyes.
"That I've got a very promising Quidditch career ahead of me." said Harry stubbornly.
Nott snorted.
"I don't imagine you'd be very popular if you kept letting go of the snitch." noted Daphne.
"Getting stung might have been for the better, though." said Nott thoughtfully, "Would definitely help if your broom broke midair - although I suppose it'd be a bit difficult to control your movements -"
"If you use a Billywig to help you fly in Quidditch you'll get slapped with Animal Abuse charges." Daphne noted dryly, "You'd better stick to practicing with your broom."
"Something to work on, then." decided Harry, opening his eyes. The three of them watched as Malfoy fell slowly to the ground. His feet seemed hesitant to press against the wooden floor. They kept jumping up into the air again, skittish like a horse.
"That's all the time we have for today!" called Lupin from the front of the classroom, "A fun class for the last day before the end of term. Have a happy break - we'll pick up where we left off next year!"
The students all slowly made their way out of the classroom, fumbling with their bags as they laughed with one another. Harry's eyes slid back to the front of the classroom. He watched as Professor Lupin gently moved the Billywig cage to his desk.
"Coming, Harry?"
Harry turned. Daphne stood just behind him, watching him carefully. Nott was paused by the doorway. Harry watched as Malfoy waddled out behind him, looking as though every sudden movement would send him rocketing to the moon.
Harry shook his head.
"I -" he paused, frowning, "Lupin, he's -"
"I know," said Daphne softly. Her lips curved into a faint smile, "We'll see you at lunch, then."
Harry nodded. He watched as Daphne and Nott strode out of the classroom and out of sight.
"Something you needed, Harry?"
Harry turned again. Professor Lupin stood with his arms against the front desk, smiling gently. A faint, almost unnoticeable scar slid down his left eye and over his lips.
"Not exactly, Professor." Harry paused, testing the words on the edge of his tongue, "I just had a few questions, though. About -"
"Your father?"
Harry nodded slowly. Lupin smiled.
"I was hoping you'd ask." he said, "We were very good friends when we went to school. He was perhaps the best friend I could have ever asked for."
"You were all friends, weren't you?" asked Harry, "You, Pettigrew . . . Black, and my father."
Lupin nodded. Harry watched as his eyes went glassy and his lips straightened into a thin line.
"What happened?"
Lupin sighed.
"I don't know." he whispered, sinking into his chair, "We were the best of friends. The very best. And then . . . I don't know what happened . . . it all happened so fast -"
"Black betrayed you."
Lupin looked up.
"I don't know." he said again, "That's what they say, but . . . I don't know. Sirius was the most loyal person I'd ever met."
He paused.
"Sometimes I wonder if they were wrong." he admitted, "None of it ever made any sense. It all felt so . . . rushed. Sirius never had a proper trial, either. It was all kept quiet. All kept out of sight."
Harry frowned.
Just like Bellatrix said. It must've really been Pettigrew, then.
"But he's dead now, isn't he?" mumbled Harry, "Black, I mean?"
Lupin nodded sadly.
"Yes, Harry, he's dead." a faint smile pressed against his features, "You would've liked him very much. He was a very, very funny man. Like your father, too."
Lupin frowned again, rubbing the back of his hands against his eyes. At last he looked up, his lips forming an uncertain smile.
"But nevermind all that." he said kindly, "There's so much more to them all than their final moments. I can tell you, if you'd like?"
Harry glanced at his watch.
It's lunch already.
He looked back up, his eyes meeting the amber ones of the man that stood before him.
"That'd be brilliant."
Lupin smiled.
-(xXx)-
Mounds of snow covered the Hogsmeade Platform. Harry grimaced as his boots sank further through it. A moist, muddy mixture of grass and dirt coated the soles of his shoes, and water seeped into his woolen socks.
Dry, pretty please.
Steam wafted from his feet, and his socks dried up at once.
That's better.
Harry looked up. The Hogwarts Express, scarlet and glowing, sat just a few feet away from them. Steam rose from its front, rising up to the stormy white clouds before disappearing out of sight. Harry forced his gaze away from it, and his eyes fell to the two girls that stood before him.
Daphne's hair was straight today. Only a few strands near her left ear were braided into a long, thin line. Her arms were wrapped around a smaller girl with pale, almost sickly skin and very light blue eyes.
"Nott wanted to say goodbye, too." said Harry, "But he's in -"
"Detention." Daphne finished for him, "Some Ravenclaws were talking about it earlier."
Harry snickered.
He hides fourteen boxes of chocolate frogs at his spot in the library and thinks he won't get caught.
"Why's he staying back?" asked Daphne curiously, "He didn't stay back last year, did he?"
Harry frowned.
"I don't know. I'll ask him."
His eyes slid down to Astoria, who stood with her back pressed against her sister. Her hair was even longer than Daphne's; it reached all the way down to her waist.
"Did you say goodbye to your friends yet?" asked Harry kindly.
Astoria shook her head. Her sleeves rose to her lips, covering them.
"Most of them are going home, too." Daphne explained, "She won't have to say goodbye until we arrive back in London."
Right.
His fingers slipped to the insides of his robes. Harry toyed with the small parcel within.
"Well, I hope you have a Happy Christmas." he said, smiling, "I got you this, too."
He pulled out a small, rectangular box, passing it to Astoria. The words, 'Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans' were printed on the top.
Astoria looked up at Daphne, then back at Harry again.
"Mummy doesn't let us have very many sweets at home." she murmured.
Harry smirked.
"I know."
A loud, high-pitched bell rang through the station. Harry watched as the students that remained quickly clambered on board.
"Why don't you go find your friends?" Daphne told her sister, her fingers curving through the girl's hair, "I'll come join you in a bit."
Astoria nodded
"Thank you," she muttered shyly, looking up at Harry, "Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas."
They watched as she clambered onto the gleaming scarlet engine, dragging her trunk behind her.
"You didn't have to, you know."
"I know." Harry slipped his hands into his pockets, "I wanted to."
Daphne smiled.
"Honeydukes?"
"About twenty minutes ago. I had a bit of spare change."
"You'd better be careful." Daphne warned, "If Snape finds out you're here -"
"He won't." said Harry certainly, "Madam Pince made Theo do his detention with Snape. He's probably in the dungeons right now, dicing up potion ingredients."
Daphne nodded, smiling faintly. Behind her, the train's engine roared to life, and the ringing of a bell spread across the platform once more.
"I'd better get going." she whispered, "I'll see you in a few weeks."
She leaned closer, and her lips brushed against his cheek. Harry watched, dumbstruck, as she straightened up.
"Have a Happy Christmas." she said, her pale cheeks tinted a faint pink.
"You too."
And she made her way onto the Hogwarts Express, her sister and her friends standing with their noses pressed against the window and their jaws hanging wide open.
-(xXx)-
Bright orange embers wafted through the air. Harry watched as they sparked out against the large glass windows that looked out beneath the Great Lake. His fingers toyed with his wand, twirling it in a small, distorted circle.
Just four days till Christmas . . .
"And no Malfoy this time, either." said Harry, smiling, "Just Nott and I -"
He frowned. His head swiveled as he looked around the common room. Apart from him, it was unmistakably empty.
In the library again, most likely.
Harry rose from the divan. A pillow slipped from it as he did - but it paused, hovering in the air as Harry watched it carefully. Slowly it flew back up, placing itself neatly amongst the other pillows.
I'm getting better.
His fingers curved. The silky emerald pillow squeezed tight. It soared through the air as Harry flicked his hand, slamming into the thick glass windows.
"Get up." Harry murmured, "Come back to me."
The pillow contorted again. One of its sides bent inwards, forming strange silky legs. Harry watched as the pillow walked towards him, shivering and staggering like a puppet on strings. It made its way towards him, and upon reaching him it looked up before falling still.
Harry sighed, bending over. He casually tossed the pillow back onto the divan.
Definitely getting better.
Behind the pillow and the divan and the silky black rugs, something loomed out in the distance. Bits of stone curved out of the walls, forming oversized serpent effigies that lined the Slytherin common room. Emerald flames danced in the sockets of their eyes
The pillow twitched. Harry frowned, watching as it curved and contorted into something long and thin.
Stop.
Gashes tore into the pillow's sides, molding it even further. Soft feathers folded into fangs, and deep circles formed on either side of the creation's eyes. They looked very much like the eyes of the stone effigies.
The feathered serpent rose into the air, baring its fangs at him. Its head ducked, and it lunged -
"I said STOP!"
The snake shuddered, falling still. Harry watched as the feathers slid back into the silk, and the gashes faded away, leaving the pillow just as it had once been.
Like the basilisk. Like back in the chamber . . .
Harry felt his legs begin to move. He turned to the common room hole, walked through it, and headed up the corridor that led to the second-floor toilets.
"The secret chamber of Salazar Slytherin," said Harry, thinking carefully, "and it's nothing more than an oversized snake pen."
That can't be right. That'd be a waste.
Two large wooden doors creaked open. Harry felt his socks dampen slightly, and the clattering of his feet lessened with every step he took. Water slid down the patterned tiles, sinking to the clogged drain at the far end of the bathroom.
Harry looked around, searching for someone - Myrtle, perhaps. But no one else made a sound, and not one shadow loomed out from the corners of the room. He was alone.
Harry turned to the circle of sinks in the room's center, and his lips parted.
"Open."
Porcelain slabs slid apart, and a giant gaping hole formed in the center of the bathroom. Harry stared into the deep dark pit, frowning.
"Stairs."
Lines marred the stained stone, and thick, jagged blocks of cobblestone slowly slid out of the circular walls. Harry quickly stepped in. The sinks closed behind him as he surged forwards, and emerald flames lit the eyes of the stone serpents that lined the path down.
Twenty steps. Thirty. Forty . . .
Harry lost count. After what felt like ages, the smooth stone beneath his feet was replaced with the crunching of bones. Dirt and grime rubbed against the soles of his shoes as he edged closer. Two stone serpents loomed in the distance. They watched his every move, the emeralds that made their eyes glittering beneath light that wasn't there.
"Open."
The snakes slithered out of sight. Harry stepped back as the wall split in two. The Chamber of Secrets sat before him, looking just as it had nearly seven months prior. He shivered uncomfortably.
Relax. Just an empty room. A long, narrow, dark, grimy, and very empty room.
To either side of him were seemingly bottomless pools of water. Large serpentine statues lined the walls behind the both of them. Their eyes were coloured a sickly green, and they glowed as the flames within their sockets flickered.
At the end of the long hall sat the stone statue of Salazar Slytherin. Only his head could be seen. It was enormous - it must have been a hundred feet from top to bottom - and strands of his beard stuck out like long, writhing serpents.
Harry frowned. He cautiously edged closer to the mouth of the gargantuan statue.
That's where she summoned the Basilisk from. If there's anything hidden here, it'll be there.
Harry faltered.
What if there's another basilisk?
"They're made by putting a chicken's egg under a toad." he reminded himself, "They probably can't have babies to begin with."
And you'd need two of them, too.
But his body still protested. Harry forced himself down the aisle, coming to a stop just before the statue. He took a long, deep breath, and his lips parted.
"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
Stone slabs slowly slid apart. Harry braced himself for something, anything - but the darkness stayed still, lying in wait. Harry couldn't help but sigh with relief.
A large chasm sat behind the opening of Slytherin's mouth. The air here felt stale and putrid, and long, thin strands of moss and grime covered the aged stone. Harry squinted through the darkness, but he couldn't make out a bottom. Deep, jagged cracks lined the circular walls.
The basilisk must've lived here.
Emerald eyes traced over something just out of reach. There were engravings on the part of the wall opposite him. They were small and ornate, forming a sort of archway in the stone.
"Stairs." Harry murmured without much thought.
Marble slabs appeared from nowhere, and he clambered forward. Dozens of strange, peculiar thoughts leapt out at him as he edged closer.
What would I leave in here, if it were me . . .
"Notes, maybe." Harry murmured aloud, "Or some my old -"
He froze.
A portrait. He could've left a portrait.
His palm felt cold and sweaty. Harry watched as a rough handle emerged from before the stone archway. His heart was beating loudly in his chest; he could hear it, thumping louder and louder with every second that passed.
Three. Two. One -
His fingers curved around the handle, and the door swung open. Harry released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His eyes, bright and curious, slid across the small, ancient room.
It was almost completely empty.
There was no portrait here. There weren't any notes, either - at least none that Harry could see. A dusty old desk sat to one side of the small room, and opposite it was a shelf filled with dusty old books Harry didn't recognize. A beautiful silver locket sat upon a table in the corner, and a cardboard box filled with random muggle objects sat in another.
Harry sighed.
"It was too good to be true." he mumbled to himself, "I should've known."
Slytherin doesn't seem the type to leave a portrait behind, either.
His eyes fell upon the books on the shelf. Harry leaned in, trying his best to make out the blurred words -
"'Secrets of the Soul', 'Cruor: A Guide to Blood Magic', 'Magic Moste Evile', 'Secrets of the Darkest Arts . . .'"
He trailed off. His eyes fell upon a small blue book pressed against the end of the shelf.
"'Magic Incarnate.'" he read, his voice low, "'To Strengthen One's Connection with Magic Itself.'"
Something sparked in Harry's chest. His fingers acted before his mind could, pulling the strange blue book off the shelf. It slid from his hands, gently falling upon the dusty old desk. Harry, shivering with anticipation, flipped open to the very first page and began to read.
'Practice. It is the only true, reliable way to ensure the strengthening of one's bond with magic -"
Harry groaned, slamming the book shut.
No shortcuts, then.
The small blue book sat upon the table, looking as innocent and unimpressive as ever. Harry glared at it.
That's the second time I've been baited in the last five minutes.
"He probably did that on purpose, Slytherin." Harry murmured darkly as he turned around.
I know I would've.
Emerald eyes fell to another book, this time coloured a deep, dark red. It too was aged and battered, with peeling golden letters etched upon its side in fancy writing.
'Combat Curses and Jinxes.'
Harry removed it too, placing it beside the other upon the table. His eyes scanned the pages as he flicked through it. The book was very detailed. Disturbing images burned into the eye of his mind, and he turned back to the very first page. His gaze fell upon the first of many spells.
"Vitreus, the Shattered Glass Spell. Conjures dozens of glass shards that target a desired target."
Harry winced. His head tilted, turning to the blue book beside the other.
Practice makes perfect.
He sighed. His wand rose in an arch, and he slashed it across his chest.
Vitreus!
Broken glass battered the walls that were once of Slytherin's study.
-(xXx)-
"DIFFINDO!"
Pale red light slipped from his wand. He watched as the spell slammed into the stone statue opposite him. The statue's top half - the chest and head of a cloaked man in long, ornate robes - fell crashing to the ground. Broken ivory littered the marble floors.
She's alive.
He stared at the sheet of parchment that sat upon his desk. A gaunt, pale face stared back at him, a wicked smile sitting beneath heavily-lidded eyes and curly black hair. Lucius grit his teeth.
"Out and about," his lips slid into a thin line, "Bellatrix Lestrange has been out for half a fucking year -"
She's had help. She couldn't cook a meal on her own.
Lucius faltered. He fingered the edge of his wand, his deep grey eyes sliding across the bits of ivory that sat by his feet.
The Dark Lady lives . . .
But he'd known that. He'd known for nearly a year now, and he'd suspected it for even longer -
Not really. Not like this.
"Alive." Lucius grimaced, testing the words on his lips, "Alive . . . she's alive . . ."
Alive.
It was a vague word, really. A man on his deathbed was still alive. Unable to see, hear, or think for himself - but alive he was indeed.
That'd been what he'd pictured. A faint, broken body with dull scarlet eyes and tattered dark hair. Bones that jutted out beneath sagging, cracked skin. Something broken and twisted, something barely able to think, barely able to register a thing -
DIRUO!
What remained of the statue shattered. Lucius swore, kicking bits of ivory at the walls of his study.
Focus. Calm yourself and think.
He straightened up, still breathing heavily. Lucius gently loosened his grip on his wand, paying it little mind as it slipped to his desk surface. He stared blankly at the study's door, thinking.
She's alive and intelligent. Still able to think, plan, act and react.
"But no body." Lucius murmured, "She's got no body -"
His eyes fell to the woman on the parchment.
Bella . . .
"She wouldn't possess her." Malfoy tapped his fingers on the desk, nodding to himself, "Not now. Not when Bella's the only person she has. Too risky."
He eyed the copy of the Daily Prophet. Bellatrix laughed up at him, her eyes bright and full of mirth that not even Azkaban could rob her of.
There was something else, too. A small, warped picture sat on his desk, just beneath the newspaper. Lucius lifted it. A faint smile washed over him.
Dolohov. Rookwood, Avery, and Crouch. Crabbe and Goyle. Nott. Macnair. Severus. Parkinson, Yaxley, Rosier, the Carrows. Travers, Rabastan and Rodolphus.
Many more sat, hidden with the photo's depths. Bellatrix was there too. They all stood in long robes and dresses, smiling faintly at the camera.
The Death Eaters. Us.
Lucius frowned. He set the picture back on his desk, staring at it. The younger him brushed specks of dust from the hem of his robes, smiling politely.
She'll find us again. Eventually.
"She'll want to know they're all still loyal." he murmured, "Still ready to serve, ready to give their lives for the cause -"
Some are.
Some weren't, too.
"It doesn't matter." Lucius slid the copy of the daily prophet over the photo, "Not yet. It can be resolved at another, better time."
They'll have to show their loyalty. Remind the world that we're still here.
But not now. Not yet. Not too soon -
Creak.
Lucius looked up. A woman with skin as smooth as porcelain stood by the door. Her eyes were somewhere between grey and blue, and her hair was both blonde and dark brown. Her fingers - which were clasped around a smooth black lantern - rose into the air, revealing the tired lines beneath her eyelids. She stared at him, then at the shattered statue, then back again.
"Is everything alright?"
Lucius frowned.
"I'm not sure."
He ran a finger down his left sleeve. Something prickled beneath his skin.
The mark.
Lucius straightened up.
"Talk to Draco about Bellatrix." he said smoothly, "I want him to be well informed of the circumstances surrounding his aunt. Make it clear that he is to keep what he hears to himself."
Narcissa nodded.
"I'll do it in the morning." she whispered, "After the house elves have finished making breakfast - it'll be easier to explain then, when he's full -"
Her eyes landed on the parchment on the desk. Lucius watched as her lips fell into a slight frown.
"Go to bed." he suggested quietly, picking the newspaper and the photo beneath it from the table, "I'll be there with you in a few short moments."
Narcissa nodded, slipping silently from the room. Lucius sighed, tossing both the paper and the photo onto a shelf to his side. His fingers curled as he gazed off at nothing in particular.
Loyalty . . . to show we're still loyal . . .
Thunder cracked outside, and lightning flashed across the heavens. Lucius smiled.
"Perhaps a little reunion is in order . . ."