CHAPTER 31
The Following Morning - Great Hall - 11:56AM
Lily quietly chewed on her mini mince pie, casually reading through one of her new Charms texts gifted to her by Sirius. She'd purposefully pretended to be immersed in her text, not wishing to entertain any conversation with the other members of staff. Though she wore her standard expression of even calm, she was bubbling with excitement beneath the surface. She'd spent her entire morning chatting with Harry about his discovery of the Sentinel and the Prince's Lair. She couldn't contain her elation, peppering the boy with a multitude of questions about how he'd finally figured it all out. Harry had mentioned Tom's gift that'd served as the final key in piecing it all together. He'd mentioned the Sentinel's test, nose wrinkling in annoyance at the stone cobra's rudeness while Lily chortled in amusement. Her son's joy at recounting his discovery of the Throne had been infectious (he'd preemptively declared Delilah the boomslang as his favorite), causing Lily to remember her own excitement when she'd first encountered the serpentine seat of power.
Harry had also teased her about her status as one of the Consiliarii Emeriti (along with Severus), which Lily had fondly taken in stride. He'd questioned if she'd ever been a contender for Prince, and with practiced casualness she'd responded that yes, she had been a Claimant, but ultimately, Regulus Black had proven to be the one worthy of ascension to the Hydra Throne. When he'd prodded her for further explanation, she'd vaguely let him know that while she'd possessed the intelligence, charm, cunning, and ruthlessness that the corresponding Exemplars valued, she'd lacked the Vision, the Political Acumen, and the Respect for Wizarding Tradition, thereby barring her ascension to the Throne. As loyal as ever, Harry had been skeptical of her lacking in any capacity, but with an indulgent smile, she'd assured him that the Hydra had been correct, and it had made the best possible decision. After another hour of discussion about the Lair and Hydra, Lily had sent Harry on his way. He'd mentioned that he'd been visiting the serpentine throne later in the evening, and he'd bring Theo on some future visits. She'd been pleased to hear that; their friendship was blossoming, and in due time, Lily was certain that Theo Nott would be an immutable friend and ally to her son in all matters.
Flipping to the next page of her book, Lily felt the basilisk on her cuff warm, and she accepted the incoming call.
Tom: "Your news has made my morning, I spent much of it talking about this new development with Nobby." Lily smiled fondly, remembering Tom's palpable excitement and pride when she'd told him Harry's discovery of the Sentinel and Lair.
Lily: "Same here, I knew he'd figure it out sooner rather than later. And thank you for providing the necessary clue he needed to get there." Tom mentally waved off her thanks, making her smile even wider.
Tom: "We'll continue to do our part to ensure Harry's ascension to the Throne. He is the only one I trust to guide Slytherin House in the midst of the darkness that looms on the horizon." Lily felt her mood sour as thoughts of the Dark Lord and the thrice-be-damned Prophecy ran through her mind. Those two had succeeded in ruining a future she could have had with both her sons and her ex-husband. Out of reflex, she glared fiercely at the empty seats usually occupied by Professor Quirrell and Professor Trelawney.
Lily: "I know. I… I do worry for him though. Being Prince is no walk in the park. Not only will he be responsible for the entirety of the House's path, he will face opposition. Serious opposition. As you and I both know from experience, there are some enemies that simply refuse to lay down once they've been culled. And as you and I also know, physical retaliation is not out of the question." Her stomach churned uncomfortably at the possibility of her precious boy being harmed, her maternal ire stoked in kind. She felt Tom's responding mental sigh before he spoke.
Tom: "Trust me, the thought has crossed my mind. Harry is still very young, and as impressive as receiving a questing letter as a First Year is, he is still a child in some ways." He paused when he heard Lily's mental sigh, feeling her nerves flutter in kind. "But, youth is neither a measure of capability nor a deterrent of decisive action. He's already demonstrated immense aptitude well beyond his years, and with our support, he'll rise in his rightful stead to be Prince. I understand and share your fears Lily. However, we do not have the luxury to even entertain the possibility of him failing. Not for this." Lily sighed once more, glaring again at Professors Quirrell and Trelawney's empty chairs. Stupid gits.
Lily: "Fair enough." She paused to nibble on her mince pie before speaking once more: "On to other topics - are you excited for your upcoming birthday celebrations?" She internally chuckled at his annoyed sigh. While Tom didn't necessarily hate his birthday, he wasn't all too fond of any 'fuss' being made on his behalf for what he considered 'a day just like any other'. That his birth was marked by his mother's death made his purposeful nonchalance all the more poignant.
Tom: "As excited as I usually am every year."
Lily: "Well you should be. Sixty-five is a major milestone, even more so that you're finally going to make an honest wizard out of yourself." She mentally wiggled her eyebrows in a manner uncannily similar to Harry, causing Tom to laugh in spite of himself.
Tom: "Hmm, indeed it is. Thankfully it will be a casual affair. Libra and I should be at the Keep at around six tomorrow, correct?"
Lily: "The Keep? What are you on about?" Keeping her mental expression carefully blank, Lily bit back a laugh at his slowly growing confusion.
Tom: "... The Keep? … The Evans Keep? You know, your home? Where we'll be celebrating my birthday?" He sounded genuinely concerned at her seeming ignorance, forcing Lily to choke down the laughter that threatened to spill out of her.
Lily: "Ooooh! Oh no Tom! We're not having it at the Keep this year!"
Tom: "Oh?" he responded surprised. "You selected an actual venue this year? Will Libra and I need to be in formal dress?"
Lily: "Oh no not at all! It will be at the Black Hideaway, Sirius is hosting this year! In fact, he insisted." This time Lily actually laughed out loud at his colorful serpentine swears, nearly choking on her pie. She noticed Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout staring at her strangely, forcing her to mumble about a 'joke' in the text she was reading. Expressions still dubious, they turned back to their meal.
She and Tom chatted for a few more minutes (mostly her trying - and failing - to convince Tom that Sirius would be an appropriate sixty-fifth birthday host) before terminating the call.
Hermione's Bedroom, Granger Residence - 3:18PM
Hermione paused in her reading to stretch her stiff limbs, thankful for the charmed ultra-soft cashmere socks Neville had sent her for Christmas, part of a set that included matching scarves and gloves in Gryffindor red and gold. It was the first time she could remember where she'd received presents from anyone other than her parents, and she was inordinately overjoyed at their kindness, relieved that she'd sent them presents as well. She'd received quite a few book vouchers from Harry (her eyes had goggled at the amounts) that could be used for both magical and muggle books. He'd also presented her with a receipt-parchment for a fully paid-for private ballroom lesson with Madame Milburga to be used in the summer. Theo had also given her Madame Milburga themed gift - a bound copy of all the syllabi the woman used for her intermediate classes, so Hermione could be well-informed of what to expect prior to her summertime enrollment. She'd been immensely struck by the thoughtfulness of the gift, sending him an extra special thank-you note for his efforts. She knew he still felt incredibly guilty over the horrible incident with Draco, though Hermione had already told him that he was not to blame for the little blond shit's actions.
From her other friends in the study group, Hermione had received quite a boon. Lavender had sent her a set of customized gold-flecked bookmarks charmed with Hermione's initials (HJG), along with a brand-new copy of a cosmetic potions text written by her great-great aunt Prunella Brown. Padma had sent her an anthology on the origins of magical India, and Parvarti had provided a gorgeous set of deep green Augurey-feather quills. Cormac had gifted her a set of color changing inks and matching color-changing quills, the tips engraved with her initials. Even Dean and Seamus had gifted her presents, each sending her muggle-themed Christmas cards charmed to loop through an animated cycle. They were currently on display on the mantel above the living room fireplace. Her father had been immensely fascinated with the dancing Santa and reindeer, while she and her mother had looked on in mutual amusement.
Stretching once more, she focused on the gift Professor Evans had sent to her - a book titled Occlumency: The Most Hidden Arte. Well, that was the title she could see. The cover was charmed to display an entirely different book altogether - Hogwarts: A History, one of Hermione's personal favorites. The book was charmed to only show the introductory chapters outlining Occludic meditative processes and self-diagnostic methodologies when one found themselves emotionally or mentally overwhelmed. The meditation would calm the mind and lull the emotional response, while the self-diagnostic technique would allow the person to identify exactly what had been the trigger, and why it was so triggering. After that fateful day of Draco's attack, she and Professor Evans had grown closer in their camaraderie. The woman had comforted her when she'd had an emotional breakdown in her office in the week following her attack, and she had been incredibly grateful for the woman's comfort in time of her need. She had been an absolute wreck; plagued by nightmares, jumping at every loud noise and shadow, and wanting to just disappear. It'd been so bad she'd begun slipping in her classes, failing to complete assignments, and being more or less uncooperative in her study group, much to the concern of her friends and group attendees. Harry, Neville, and Theo had been worried sick about her, with even kindly Neville threatening to beat Draco up for her.
Thankfully, Professor Evans had provided a helpful solution with the suggestion of the anti-emotive memory block, which Hermione had ultimately consented to. That, and a subsequent dream-lock which would prevent her from having nightmares. She could still recall the memory if she desired (and she tried her hardest not to), but without the crippling emotional strings of terror and fear, she could navigate her life with some sense of the normalcy she'd possessed prior to the event's occurrence. But that normalcy would never again come with the naivete she'd once relished in. The young witch had known she'd face some conflict for her blood status, especially when she didn't shy away from her heritage, and quite often demonstrated the brilliance of said heritage with her vaunted academic prowess. However, she'd gravely miscalculated the lengths some bigots would go to to disabuse her of that notion. Cruel words of childish bullies was one thing, blatant murder attempts were a whole another. And even more galling was that the blonde bastard genuinely believed in the rightness of his heinous actions, and by virtue of his blood and familial status, he'd technically be able to get away with it!
"Well, not if I have anything to say about that," she thought viciously, cinnamon-colored eyes flashing in anger. "You won't ever hurt me again Draco Malfoy. An eye for an eye."
"Hermione dear, it's almost time for dinner! Come help me set the table please!" Emma Granger's voice interrupted her daughter's churning thoughts, and with a resounding "Coming Mum!", the young witch made her way downstairs.
The Prince's Lair - 9:09PM
Finally settling into his seat, Harry took a few moments to gather his thoughts before speaking. He was seated in one of the left-side chairs closest to the throne, as he was not yet allowed to occupy the Prince's Seat. Upon his reentry into the Lair, he'd politely greeted the Hydra and made to sit down in his excitement, only to have his head almost bitten off by Alecto, the right head of the runespoor. She'd rather snootily informed him that he was not yet the Prince, and should do 'to not forget his place as a Claimant underling', as her sisters Tisiphone (the left head) and Megaera (the central head) hissed in equally snooty agreement. Properly chastised, said Claimant underling had dutifully apologized and vowed to never do it again.
He'd taken the following half hour to further explore the Lair in depth. The massive bookshelves framing the fireplace were warded, with only the bottom-most shelves accessible to him. Said shelves contained ten volumes of original leather-bound copies of Salazar Slytherin's memoirs, along with multiple addendum booklets. Ka - the cobra - had informed him that while he could not remove the books from the Lair, he was more than welcome to read them whilst within the room's confines. As the Exemplar for Scholarly Excellence, he stressed that knowledge was power, and that in order to maintain the latter, one must always be very well-read in the former. He'd also taken some time to further review the tapestry, struck by the sheer number of descendants the Founder had. Many had changed their Slytherin surnames in 1588, coinciding with the passage of the Inheritance Act. The Wilkes family was one of the many, having undergone an unprecedented five surname changes before finally settling on Wilkes in 1801, with the rise of Neander Wilkes as the then Acting Lord of the house. There were quite a few that had gone extinct, and the remaining extant lines (with the exception of two) did not reside in England. Jormungand the Python - the Exemplar for Political Acumen - had called the Inheritance Act one of the greatest abuses of political power in history, a terrible coup borne of fear and hate that had succeeded in shattering the Founder's rightful influence over the inferiors who needed Slytherin leadership. Harry had filed that tidbit away to ask about later.
"So… I have so many questions to ask of you, but I do not know where to begin," said Harry, the very picture of composed calm in spite of his nerves. He didn't want to appear lacking in confidence should that be used against him to prevent his future ascension.
"Well," Rajah the basilisk responded in his deep rumbling bass, "speak what is on your mind, and we will respond in kind."
"How did the Prince of Slytherin even come about? Why did the Founder feel that all of this," he gestured to the Lair "would be a necessity at all?" Rajah looked at him contemplatively (as did all the other serpents), before responding:
"The Founder, in his sage wisdom, was able to recognize that our greatest virtue - Ambition - was also our greatest vice. Among all the other Houses of Hogwarts, only Slytherin is the one with the potential to be brought to ruin by our greatest strength. Hence the Founder creating this position and creating us in kind, the living Exemplars who embodied all that the Founder believed to be necessary qualities a Prince should possess in equal measure. Someone who possesses the power, intellect, resourcefulness, and guile to rule the House, but also the wisdom and cunning to only do so from the shadows, for the greater good of the House and wizardkind at the expense of his or her own prestige."
"Her?"
"Oh yes young Claimant. The Prince mantel is one that can be held by wizard or witch. Capability is not restricted to gender, and many of the greatest Princes that have guided Slytherin House have been witches." He gestured to the Princeps Emeriti plaque, and Harry noted that out of the fifty names, at least fifteen of them had been witches.
"And what of the Consiliarii? What is their purpose in all of this?" Rajah turned his head to Jormungand, who answered Harry's question in his soft tenor:
"A truly good leader both understands and appreciates the necessity of having a counsel who will provide sound advice in his pursuit of ruling the House from the shadows. Forming a powerful political group composed of differing personalities and abilities is wholly demonstrative of his capability as Prince."
"Aye," Mara the Ashwinder responded, her surprisingly husky voice rasping sibilantly. "It is demonstrative of true cunning and cleverness to unify a faction of individuals who will work together to successfully bring about the force of your will." She stared rather intensely into Harry's eyes, emerald orbs penetrating.
"And quite a testament to the charm and subtlety a Prince must also possess, to successfully convince such differing personalities to both desire and trust each other enough to work together," said Delilah, her coquettish rasp lilting almost teasingly as she stretched the upper half of her body to come face-to-face with Harry. From this position, she flicked her forked tongue against his nose (much like his beloved Selma), causing him to giggle. Almost on reflex, he reached up and scratched under her chin, causing her to giggle rather girlishly. In tandem, the runespoor and krait rolled their eyes at the display, with the latter grumbling rather rudely under his breath about 'vacuous flirts'. Thinking of Solon, Harry wondered if it was the nature of all kraits to be sour curmudgeons.
Returning back to her initial position, Harry and the Hydra conversed about a bevy of other topics, before Harry finally drew up the confidence to ask the question that had been burning on his mind since reentering the Lair.
"I hope you all do not think me impertinent for asking so soon into our acquaintance, but… I have need of a favor I believe only you all may be able to grant me." No sooner had he finished speaking than did the runespoor start hissing furiously, with accusations of 'unfounded impudence', 'baseless gall', 'a complete lack of regard for authority', and many such other insults flying from the three heads. Tisiphone and Alecto were the most incensed, though curiously enough, Megaera (the center head) narrowed her eyes intensely in Harry's direction, not bothering to speak. A cleared throat from Rajah finally quieted them down, before the great basilisk responded.
"You may ask young Claimant, and we will decide if your request is worthy of appropriate fulfillment." Squaring his shoulders and using every bit of Occlumency he knew to project the appropriate level of confidence, Harry spoke:
"There has been a grave act of injustice within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. One of our own House members cruelly - and rather crudely - threatened the life of an innocent, nearly dropping her to her death from the Star Tower. Said innocent was not a true enemy; rather, she was a brave young lioness who protected another Slytherin from coming to harm by the very same snake who threatened her life. Her only 'mistake' it seemed, was being born of muggles and possessing great magical and intellectual capability that offended the young Slytherin's bigoted sensibilities. Said young Slytherin needs to be taught the appropriate lesson of vengeance and justice in kind." A few beats passed as the assembled snakes regarded him with the utmost seriousness, their expressions bearing various degrees of contemplation. Suddenly Nidhogg - the krait - stretched the entirety of his body from its position to wrap around Harry's chair and body, before bringing his head to rest on the young wizard's right side.
"Indeed?" he asked, his impossibly deep voice rumbling throughout Harry's body. "A foolish snakeling harmed an innocent, and you wish to right that wrong, to exact vengeance upon his egregious indiscretion?" Harry remained as still as possible while keeping his voice level, afraid the massive krait would squeeze the life out of him should he dare to misspeak.
"Indeed, Exemplar of Ruthlessness. I desire - on behalf of an innocent - to exact the necessary vengeance that will cull this particular enemy's most undesirable actions. Our great House cannot have someone behave so callously against one who has not wronged him, on baseless bigotries and mere ego. It is a disgrace upon us all." A few beats passed before Nidhogg chortled rather uproariously, causing Harry's entire body to vibrate in kind with his surprisingly boisterous laughter.
"Oh most excellent young Claimant! You are indeed a most worthy scion of the great Lily Evans. I would be obliged to assist you in this endeavor." The still laughing Krait unfurled his body to return to his original position, looking most pleased with himself. Rajah stared contemplatively at Harry for a few moments before speaking.
"Alright young Claimant. Present your argument and present it well. Then, we will have a vote."
AN 1: Hope that added some additional context! I decided to change the chapter name since this one is moreso focused on the Hydra and less on the Sentinel. I hope their personalities (at least how I envision them) came across well enough.
AN 2: Poor Draco, he really has no idea. And from two sides too! Hermione will have her revenge in spite of Harry's, that she will not be denied.
Next Up: Draco vs. Everyone!