"ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀʟʟ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ɴᴇᴘᴛᴜɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴡᴀꜱʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅ? ɴᴏ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴛᴜᴅɪɴᴏᴜꜱ ꜱᴇᴀꜱ ɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴅɪɴᴇ, ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴ ᴏɴᴇ ʀᴇᴅ" — ᴍᴀᴄʙᴇᴛʜ, ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ꜱʜᴀᴋᴇꜱᴘᴇᴀʀᴇ
Chapter Seventeen: Lockhart's Playground
"STOP RUNNING!" shouted Ruby, as if that would accomplish anything. But she was winded and tired of chasing a Death Eater up and down the second floor.
"In there!" Tee whispered, pointing at a familiar door which opened and shut, leaking light into the hallway for just a second.
They burst in, but no one appeared. Not even a ghost, or a rat, for that matter.
"He's gone down the hole," said Ruby, staring at the dark, shadowy entrance into the Chamber of Secrets. "He must think he can hide there."
Tee was struggling to speak again.
"There's a way out," he said. "Found it once... didn't think it was important. Maybe he knows about it."
How? thought Ruby, but it was no time for questions, only actions.
"So we've got to inter—intercept him!"
Tee shook his head as he sank down into a sitting position. "Don't be stupid," he muttered, half-shutting his eyes. "You're only a little girl. What are you going to do?"
I'll show him who's a silly little girl, she thought, and which not as much as a glance behind her, hurried down the stairs.
Once inside the Chamber, she wasted no time in making her way to the atrium; all of a sudden, someone shoved her, knocking the wind out of her and she tripped and fell hard.
Her knees burned against the marble floor, and the dirty water did little to break her fall.
Before Ruby had any time to react, someone said: "Expelliarimus!" and her wand rolled out of her hand, far away from reach.
What? Who?
"So the final act begins," said the person, and she turned her head. It was not Scabbers, or the man who had been Scabbers.
Lockhart stood before her; dressed simply, for once, in black robes and a matching wizard's hat, with what appeared to be a dinner jacket underneath.
His wand was in his hand; not pointed towards her, but still threatening. Why was he here?
Evidently, she was in trouble, for breaking curfew, at least. Perhaps he thought she had something to do with the Death Eater?
But why, she couldn't fathom. Why should Lockhart threaten her? At the most, he should reprimand, and take her to either Snape or Dumbledore's office. Disciplining students outside of his lessons did not fall under Lockhart's jurisdiction.
So what is he up to? Why did he come back to the Chamber of Secrets?
"What are you doing here, Professor?" she said, with no attempt to remove the hostility from her tone. "And, more to point, what do you think you're doing?"
"Well, for one, not experimenting with Dark magic. It is a phase that many talented witches and wizards go through; but you are not so talented. In fact, you are rather ordinary."
His gaze went to the charred circle of runes and the two stubs of salt, next to which lay the sodden diary which had been Tee's home for fifty years.
And, of course, the bloodstains.
It was all very incriminating, thought Ruby.
But there was something almost triumphant in her realisation that Lockhart didn't know her, not like Harry or Dumbledore or even Tee did.
"I am ordinary, Professor," she lied, inching away from him and forcing a smile, her eyes darting to her wand ever so often. "But those drawings aren't mine. I've never been down here. I've done nothing wrong. Let me go and tell Dumbledore the truth, Professor Lockhart. Please!"
Lockhart smiled too, cocking his head to the side. The appeal to authority had clearly not moved him as she had hoped it would. "No one wanders the corridors at this hour with good intentions, especially not tonight. Perhaps you should confess your wrongdoings, Miss Potter. Starting... with... the murder of Vernon Dursley."
Her breath caught in her throat. The air stung. And stunk of fear.
"You don't know anything about that," she whispered, stumbling backwards, her shoes squeaking on the soaked marble.
Lockhart snorted contemptuously. "Did you do it for Harry?" he asked in a patronising tone.
No point lying. Clearly he has ill intentions, and Dumbledore wouldn't have told him anything. I have to find out where the Death Eater is. I'll play the part he wants me to. I'll be the bad spawn, the evil schemer. I'll be as unhinged as he likes.
"I liked killing Vernon," said Ruby, making her voice sound hollow and callous as she glanced past Lockhart, looking for an opening. She was small and fast. Maybe she could rush past him, snatching up her wand as she went. He'd have to catch her; but, of course he could. A Jelly-Legs Jinx would render her unable to escape, and they both knew he could cast it before she even took a step forward.
It was just like being trapped on top of the roof at school. But the fire brigade was not coming with a ladder anytime sooner.
No one would hear her scream, whatever Lockhart intended to do with her.
The best she could do was scare him.
"I liked watching his heart stop. But most of all I liked how glassy his eyes were."
"I hated him," she spat, and at least that part was true. "He was a filthy Muggle, like my precious Mudblood mother. Do you like filthy Muggles, Lockhart? I know you like Death Eaters. Specifically ones that turn into rats, and pretend to be pets for little boys."
Lockhart cast a spell she did not recognise, and her vocal cords no longer seemed to work.
For the first time, the adrenaline seemed to wear off, and she panicked. Her bound hands clutched at her neck; she screamed and screamed until her throat seemed to tear and bleed, but no sound came out.
Defeated, she sank to her knees, whimpering silently like a wounded animal.
"I think I prefer you like this, Miss Potter. Silent and respectful. Your mouth is much too big, especially in my class, giving your opinions and laughing at me behind your grubby little hands. I will not be answering your question."
"What I'll do," said Lockhart, grinning down at her, "well, I'll Obliviate you first. Then, I'll collapse the ceiling — that should take care of the monster. The vial of false memories and your mangled body amongst that of the basilisk will be irrefutable evidence. You, seduced by the Dark side, went down to the Chamber, and met your poetically brutal end. In fact, I've already written to the papers. It appears to be the truth of the matter, after all."
"Of course, it it was all thanks to Ronald Weasley's dear departed Ratty. Or was it... Scabby?"
"After he followed you one night and watched your charming little cursed diary open the Chamber, we came up with a marvellous idea together. The Heir of Slytherin had never been found, you see, but we didn't need him. All that my dear friend had to do was record the diary's utterance in Parseltongue, and simply open the Chamber to cause sufficient panic when required."
"Clean-up was quite simple. Serpents are shy creatures, you see, and easily frightened. The monster wouldn't let itself be seen by us mere mortals, unless we were its victims. I myself only watched from the sidelines."
"Except, of course, by your brother. I did not anticipate the presence of a snake-charmer in the school. It was unfortunate that he saw the basilisk during the first attack; I couldn't have the cat out of the bag that quickly, so it was necessary to stage a little accident. Everyone was so concerned by Mr. Goldstein's injury that even wise old Dumbledore failed to notice that Mr. Potter's memory had been... altered by yours truly. I'm almost sorry for the distress I caused, having the boy wonder whether he wounded his friend. But Harry Potter was a hopeless case before I arrived at Hogwarts. His destiny has been written; the string of his life has been spun, measured, and the scissors hover low."
"I'm not ashamed to say my career and my account at Gringotts have been struggling, and the bothersome lawsuits, all slanderous and false, of course, certainly haven't helped. Now, this could revolutionise my brand. Catapult me to unprecedented heights of stardom."
"And just to think; if Miss Prewett hadn't come asking questions, I would have never been able to put two-and-two together and figure out what exactly you were up to. My dear colleague was unable to match a name to your face when he saw you the first time, but Miss Prewett, of course, knew exactly who you were when she encountered you with your little book on her way to sneak about my office with the aid of Mr. Shafiq. It simply took a small measure of my charm and a few drops of Veritaserum to loosen her tongue, courtesy of Professor Snape. Of course, he will be fully reimbursed for the cost."
"You're a monster! And after all this time, you didn't even kill the basilisk! You lied! And you're working with a Death Eater!" she spluttered, as soon as Lockhart had stopped for breath, the spell seemingly having worn off during all his rambling.
"I, the monster... You, the murderess and the Dark witch? Think you're clever, don't you, Miss Potter? Cunning? That sort of magic could get you sent to Azkaban, and I made sure Dumbledore had the evidence. It all fits your criminal profile quite tragically. You don't understand the forces you play with, you silly little girl! Even Dumbledore never suspected my duplicity, especially after Mr. Nott lent me his monocle." Lockhart patted his breast pocket.
"But what about the tooth?" asked Ruby weakly.
Lockhart threw his head back in a burst of amusement. "Oh, that. Dear Mr. Flamel and Professor Dumbledore and of course our Miss Prewett were full of suspicion. But not even sulky Saint Nick could distinguish the fang of one basilisk from another!"
"Another?"
"Yes, another, Potter! Mr. Nott had the fang of Herpo's dead basilisk of Cyrene procured for me to present as evidence. The two beasts are close enough in age."
Dumbledore had wanted her to watch Nott, she remembered. He'd been suspicious, but oh, not suspicious enough! And there was no way to warn them.
Have you seen its corpse with your own eyes, little witch? Tee had asked her, as if he'd known all along.
He sighed. "Battling with Basilisks. I shall retire on that. So your tragic story ends, Ruby Potter. So fitting for a Slytherin: orphaned by Lord Voldemort, unwanted by your Muggle caretakers, and so twisted that I could not save you from your folly and the pitfalls of your black heart. It was too late to save the girl. I was only able to retrieve her mangled body. She died, surrounded by her chalk drawings and failed scheming. Perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived will shed a tear, but who else? A victim, ultimately, of your own ambition."
"You're not going to get away with this, Lockhart!" growled Ruby, backing away, until she hit the curved edge of what she knew was the statue of Salazar Slytherin.
Her heart stuttered against her ribcage, and the back of her mouth was tainted with vomit.
She looked up into Lockhart's eyes, horrified. There was nowhere to run. There was her wand a few feet away, which she might make a dash for, and the marble in her pocket, but what good would they do against a full-grown wizard?
Infuriatingly, he smiled.
"But I already have. This is the end of your little story."
As he lunged, wand at the ready, a short, horrid hiss cut through the air, and something enormous shook the ground, like a train rushing above her.
Lockhart gurgled.
Hot liquid rained down on her, and Ruby shrieked.
For a few minutes, everything felt numb and dull, as if cotton had been stuffed into her ears.
Tee was standing over her, beside the basilisk and looking strangely lucid; for the first time, more human boy than ghostly creature. As if killing Lockhart had made him stronger.
They were both covered in Lockhart's blood. Lockhart himself was beside them, laying face down as dark blood seeped out around him.
"Is he dead?"
Her voice came out paper-thin. Like a dry, dead moth's wings.
Tee's face was grim as he rolled Lockhart over. He grunted. It seemed to take a lot of effort.
Lockhart's face had been torn and shredded beyond recognition; strips of bloody skin dangled over bone and pink flesh, and the whitish grey of his brains dribbled out the remains of his nose.
The sight of it made Ruby want to throw up. He stunk of death already.
As Tee let him fall back into the black pool of blood, the piece of skin holding his jaw together ripped, and his lower jaw went skittering across the floor like a stone skipping across a still lake, landing with a wet thud next to Ruby's foot.
The basilisk dipped her giant head and lapped up Lockhart's blood, and Ruby shuddered at the loud slrrp, slrrp. Tee moved along the body, silent as a grave-robber. He pinched Lockhart's little finger, but he did not twitch or struggle.
"If he's not now by some miracle, he will be in a few minutes."
Tee swung one leg over Lockhart's body, and leaned down to pry the wand out of his clenched fist. He wiped the blood off, gave it a wave as if to test it, producing a trail of sparks, and grimaced.
Still in shock, Ruby blinked up at Tee, who was still wearing his Hogwarts uniform, his left cheek splattered with blood, and the basilisk resting behind him. She thought of the hissing sound before the basilisk killed Lockhart.
Tee grimaced again, and lifted his sleeve to wipe the blood off of his cheek.
A sudden, terrible realisation dawned on her. Why had she never put it all together before?
She could have. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to until admitting it was inevitable.
"You — you can command the basilisk. You're the Heir of Slytherin," she said, and her voice came out very matter-of-fact. Very calm, which she wasn't. Or perhaps she was.
"Yes," said Tee, quite simply.
"You're a very dangerous wizard," she muttered under her breath, but of course, she had known that from the start.
Lockhart's blood was all over her. It was wet on her forehead and stained her white uniform shirt dark crimson. Even her tie. Her hair was soaked.
There was no getting away from this. Even if she scrubbed for hours, in one of the bathtubs in the dormitory with its snake-headed taps from which only poured cold water, there would be traces of blood smeared deep under her fingernails and in the creases of her skin and behind her ears. It would take more than a bath to forget.
Even Uncle Vernon's corpse hadn't looked so gruesome. Ruby could not tear her eyes away from his jawless, noseless face, his bloodied ribs poking out of his chest.
She was going to throw up. She was going to vomit her heart out of her mouth. Maybe it would break through her chest instead.
"We killed him! Oh my God, Tee!" Ruby stumbled to her feet, backing away from Lockhart's corpse. "We killed him."
Tee frowned. "I killed him," he said in a monotone voice. "Besides, he was going to kill you. And me." He nodded at the basilisk. "And her. Are you scared of me? You weren't before."
I didn't know you were a cold-blooded killer, she thought ruefully.
"How are you so calm?"
And then, Ruby remembered that she'd been terribly calm as she watched Uncle Vernon drink his tea. She hadn't panicked until he died. Maybe calm was how you were when you killed someone. Maybe the disgust didn't come until later.
"Did you really kill that— that Vernon?" he asked, seemingly curious, and regarding her as if she were something small and venomous in an interesting way, like a tropical spider, through his long, dark eyelashes. "Or were you bluffing?"
In his left hand, Tee held Lockhart's wand. In his right, was a small, translucent circle that Ruby recognised.
Realising that this practically made her as much of a grave-robber as him, she held her hand out, and said: "Let me have that."
He seemed surprised, but handed Nott Senior's monocle to her nonetheless.
But of course; he was working with Lockhart and the Death Eater. Dumbledore had seemed to suspect Nott Senior, though perhaps he didn't fathom the extent of the plot.
Perhaps no one could have. It was a near-perfect plan. Hogwarts had already been infiltrated from the inside; why not try again?
He killed someone. Someone died the last time the Chamber was opened. Ruby clutched the monocle, her hand stained with Lockhart's blood, and thought of Moaning Myrtle.
"The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then — I died."
She wiped off the blood and held it up to her eye; to her surprise, it fit, though it was slightly uncomfortable, and for the first time, blinked at Tee — T. M. Riddle — the Heir of Slytherin — the murderer — altogether without fear.
"Lockhart's right," said Ruby, bending down to retrieve her wand. She wiped some of the water off of it and gave it a shake. "If he's written to the papers, and Nott Senior's in on it... he knows who killed Uncle Vernon, somehow he knows everything—"
"—The walls," said Tee, "the walls have ears."
Ignoring her, he moved to unbutton his shirt clumsily with his right hand to inspect his wound. Ruby heard him utter a soft whimper; it must have hurt.
She did not want to go to Azkaban. Yet she was shivering in clothes made damp by the dead Defence Professor's blood, and wearing a Death Eater's monocle that had been gifted to him by the man who killed her parents, before a boy made from salt and the queen of serpents.
Hagrid had been able to escape with Dumbledore's help, but Hagrid was no murderer. She was. She was nearly as much of a cold-blooded killer as the Heir of Slytherin himself.
Leave, said the necklace. Save yourself. If you linger, you will not survive. L. E.
"They'll come for me, won't they?"
But Harry. But Lavender and Parvati. But Anthony. But Hogwarts.
If she stayed, she could not face the consequences. The evidence was all here.
If she left... there might be a chance to return.
Harry's all right. He's safe now. He'll be here when I come back. I'll see him again. I will.
She lifted her head.
"Do you remember the way out?"
As Tee began to walk to the far end of the Chamber, the basilisk's energy seemed to dim. And by the time that Ruby reached the dark passage, the beast, now that the Heir had left the limits of Hogwarts's wards, was sleeping once more.
The necklace had stopped spinning. It must have been the right choice.
The light emanating from the lake began to dim.
The Chamber was sleeping, too.
It was Filch who found them, Mrs. Norris in tow.
He seemed surprised at first, dangling the lantern in the two boys' faces before going to wake the nurse.
Madam Pomfrey hurried into the Hospital Wing, her eyes widening in shock as she looked between Harry and Anthony.
"We've put your parents up nearby," she said quickly to Anthony, wiping her hands on her apron. "I'll send an owl directly; Filch, if you'll wake Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall... perhaps Professor Snape also?"
"Directly," said Filch grudgingly, with an evil glance at the boys. Harry thought he might be thinking of the mud they would be tracking into hallways now that they were back on their feet.
"Never seen anything like it," muttered Madam Pomfrey as she inspected Harry's shadow-less fingers. "It's completely... completely gone."
No, thought Harry, reaching out to the wounded, chained monster. It's still there. I can feel it. Hurting and angry. But it's mine. Not me. I'm no longer an Obscurial. I just... have an Obscurus.
"Harry!" someone shouted, and the next thing he knew, Hermione's arms were wrapping around him in a bone-crushing hug and he was nearly suffocated by her hair.
"Don't kill him, Hermione, we just got him back!"
"Sorry," she said, stepping away. "We're just so relieved to see you okay, we really thought we might lose you. And Anthony, it's good to see you awake, let me give you a hug, too—"
"No thank you," said Anthony, inching away from her. "I like my ribs unbroken."
Ron snorted. "The professors are coming, we ran ahead. Where's Ruby?"
The realisation hit him. "Looking for a, uh, Death Eater."
"What?" asked Ron.
"Yes, looking for what exactly, Mr. Potter?" asked Professor McGonagall as the three professors entered the Hospital Wing. She seemed a little shocked, although she did a good job of hiding it behind her usual façade.
Professor Snape, however, had his mouth hanging open slightly. Dumbledore, strangely, looked mildly suspicious and kept his distance.
"Ron's rat, Scabbers," said Harry, fidgeting with his ring. "He's a Death Eater. We saw him turn back into a human."
"That will be Pettigrew," growled Snape. Harry was surprised at the venom in his tone; it seemed that there was some kind of vendetta involved.
If they caught him, Snape might want his pound of flesh.
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Then we must search for them."
"I think I might know where they are," said Harry slowly. "Ruby mentioned it before. I think she thought I was sleeping."
"Mentioned what?" asked Hermione, at almost the same time as Professor McGonagall. The former looked slightly embarrassed.
Harry took a deep breath.
"The Chamber of Secrets. She found it, after Lockhart did. I think... I think she's been keeping a lot of secrets from me, ever since I took ill. And—" he coughed. "Anthony, it might be better for you to tell them what you told me."
He looked older despite his time in stasis, Harry thought. In the early morning light, with knotted eyebrows and a tense jaw, his face had highlights and shadows that made him look something like he might as an adult.
Anthony's the Jabberwocky no more, thought Harry.
"It was Lockhart who made the basilisk take my arm," he said quietly and seriously. "And Harry's been telling me the basilisk killed Madam Pince too."
Hermione gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Ron's jaw had unhinged completely.
Harry heard Professor Snape mutter a few choice swear words under his breath that would have made a sailor blush, and Professor McGonagall looked enraged enough to incinerate a dragon.
Only Professor Dumbledore did not look entirely surprised. His eyebrows lifted, but he looked more disappointed than anything else.
"It appears that Gilderoy has just attempted to frame Ruby. I received a vial of memories no more than twenty minutes ago showing your sister opening the Chamber and killing weasels."
"Lies!" snarled Harry. "He's lying, Professor!"
"Evidently. But why your sister? We must endeavour to understand this, as well as what secrets she has been hiding. Perhaps this puts her in danger. Perhaps she knew of Lockhart's role, but was under threat or oath."
"I shouldn't have let her out of my sight," said Harry, glowering at the floor. He had been too focused on the Death Eater to think straight.
Dumbledore placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.
"It is not your fault, Harry," he said heavily.
But of course it is. I'm responsible for her, and she's responsible for me.
"Where have they gone?"
"Down!" said the ghost, peeking out at Dumbledore angrily though her snarled hair. "Down there; the rat came in and crept out the window, then Professor Lockhart down the hole, then that horrid, horrid girl, and Tom Riddle after her."
Harry had never seen Dumbledore's demeanour change quite so quickly; from his usual stoicness, to something a little bit like terror.
Snape remained impassive. McGonagall paled.
Harry did not know what to think; but if Dumbledore was the slightest bit frightened for Ruby, he ought to be frightened, too.
"Tom Riddle?" Dumbledore repeated very, very slowly. "Are you certain of this, Myrtle? This is no laughing matter, I assure you."
Moaning Myrtle clutched the side of her stall, her eyes wide and owlish behind her glasses.
"C-Covered in muck and blood," she singsonged, "looking just like he did the day I D-I-E-D, Professor Dumbledore."
"What do you mean," pressed Dumbledore, "looking just like he did the day you died?"
She sniffed haughtily. "Well, he must be seventy or so by now, Professor. When we were in school, you only had a few grey hairs. And he couldn't've been older than sixteen; he was wearing his Hogwarts uniform after all. With that lovely prefect badge... Hopefully he's D-E-A-D, then he could share my toilet. He'll make a lovely ghost."
"The rat will be Peter Pettigrew, and Tom—"
"—Who's Tom, Professor McGonagall?" Harry interrupted. "Hagrid's Tom?"
Although he sneered at Harry for interrupting the Deputy Headmistress, Snape, too, looked curious.
"Yes, Harry. Hagrid's Tom. The true Heir of Slytherin. Someone unpredictable and dangerous," said Dumbledore. He waved his wand at the massive hole in the floor, and a wooden platform appeared. "We must find out what has become of your sister and Professor Lockhart."
The platform began to descend into a damp, murky darkness that surrounded them on all sides. Harry kept a firm grip at his wand, almost expecting something to leap out at him, but their journey down was uneventful.
Dumbledore's phoenix Patronus glided just ahead of them, bringing light and warmth to the miserable surroundings.
"Do you think they're really down here, Professors?"
He sincerely hoped not. He hoped Ruby was safe in her bed in Slytherin Dungeon, curled up with Hephaestus and fast asleep.
"Quiet, Potter!" hissed Snape, brushing off Dumbledore's disapproving look.
Harry kept his mouth shut and continued forward.
The narrow corridor opened up into a large, stone room; musty, dark, cold, and seemingly devoid of life.
Where Harry's stomach had been doing anxious flip-flops, it suddenly sunk to the bottom of his feet.
Snape was the first to step into the Chamber of Secrets. The rest waited, frozen.
"Professor Dumbledore," he called, holding his lit wand aloft, "you may find this of interest."
Dumbledore stepped forward into the partially-submerged area; Harry, unbidden, followed him, his heart in his mouth.
Not Ruby, not Ruby, not Ruby.
He could not have been prepared for the sight before them.
Lockhart's jawless body hung by a brass chain looped about his neck, dressed in finery and drenched in blood from chin to navel. His blond hair was waterlogged and limp, clumping together in a macabre arrangement around his ruined face, from which his unprotected tongue dangled.
His torso was a bloody mess; ripped apart, stinking, oozing guts pouring out of him and polluting the water around him.
"W-What killed him?" That was Professor McGonagall. She moved as if to cover Harry's eyes, but drew back.
"Clearly not poison. An ill-performed Severing Charm, perhaps?" suggested Professor Snape.
Dumbledore shook his head. "It appears that we have a witness."
Harry looked up. Hephaestus was making his way towards them, stepping delicately through the filthy water, and coming to sit at his feet and rubbing his head against Harry's leg as if to comfort him.
Dumbledore knelt down, and put his hand on the cat's regal head, silent for a while.
"She is alive," he said finally, and Harry, for the first time, breathed deeply again. "But she has left Hogwarts."
"Riddle kidnapped her," growled McGonagall.
"No," said Dumbledore, after a long pause. "Hephaestus is under the impression that although they left together, it was of her own accord."
"Likely under Riddle's influence," McGonagall added.
"What next?" drawled Snape. "The cat is under the impression that the girl sprouted wings and flew away?"
"That's my sister you're talking about, Snape!" snapped Harry finally, his fists clenched at his sides. "So maybe you'd better act like her Head of House and look for her, because the last time I saw her, she was with this Tom Riddle who's supposed to be 'dangerous and unpredictable,' going after a Death Eater, and now she's missing and Lockhart's dead!"
All three professors looked a little shocked at Harry's outburst. Snape looked as if he had "Fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter," on the tip of his tongue, but Dumbledore shook his head, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"For Lily, Severus," he said quietly.
Harry didn't know what their mother had to do with it, but Snape went from sallow to pale in the dim light. He bent down, and when he straightened, he held a small, black, leather-bound book that Harry instantly recognised.
"That's Ruby's," he said, at the exact same time that McGonagall said, hesitantly, "Professor Dumbledore... isn't that... Tom's diary?"
Dumbledore said nothing, but gestured for Professor McGonagall to pass it to him.
"Borgin attempted to sell that rubbish to us at the beginning of term," said Snape. "I admonished him, and advised Miss Potter to leave it alone, and I thought she had listened. Evidently, that was wishful thinking."
Harry did not think the book much of a clue, and instead, began to pick his way through the Chamber, hoping that Ruby had left some trace.
"What if he finds his way to you-know-who?"
This Tom, thought Harry, the Heir of Slytherin. I've seen him in my dreams... or my nightmares. I've got to find out who he is. Where he'll go next with Ruby.
He knelt down, observing the stub of salt stuck to the floor, and thought he might know what it was.
Sneakily, he summoned shadows to the tips of his fingers, and melted it away.
To the walls, he asked: "Are you still alive?" and was answered by a rumbling snore that sounded like "Yes."
"Did you eat my sister?"
"No. Your little brood-mate lives. She is too small to make a meal, anyway. And I was ordered not to eat the grown one. The heir wished his body to remain after he threatened her. I could tell you stories about his irritating love of theatrics and shows of cleverness, little morsel."
The heir. That was the word he had struggled to understand.
The professors were sending him strange looks. He had to be quick.
"Where has the heir taken her?"
"I do not know."
"Will he hurt her?"
"He cannot. He is bound by a life-debt, and so is she. They are shielded from each other by what shields you from your enemy."
"You mean... blood magic?"
"Something like that. Leave me now, hatchling. You are even more tiresome than the last."
Satisfied for now, he turned from the wall, letting his arm drop to his side.
"I think I know what happened, Professors," said Harry, and then he explained, without a word as to how he knew.
"No one who is not already involved can know what happened tonight," said Professor Snape. "Are we in agreement?"
The other two nodded. Harry, despite being uninvited to offer his opinion, nodded too.
"Arrangements will be made. Lies will be told. We must do what we must to protect the school. When Voldemort returns, this is the safest place for the children — there is no doubt about it. If they remain at home, they are in grave danger."
"So, whoever controls the school controls the future of Wizarding Britain." That was Professor McGonagall.
"And it must not fall into the hands of those with ulterior motives. Neither the Ministry not the Death Eaters can be allowed to influence us. Cornelius Fudge will bend and splinter under pressure like a sapling tree. We must remain entirely sovereign."
"We shall isolate the school?"
"If it comes to that, it is our last option."
"We appear to be in agreement, then."
Before Harry turned to follow them up into the light of May first, he noticed that etched into the wall next to the statue of Salazar Slytherin, were the words:
Gilderoy Lockhart's skeleton shall lie in the Chamber of Secrets... Forever.
That's a wrap on second year!
I will be taking a few weeks' break to get my chapter queue in order, but The Night Guardian will be appearing sometime in February, featuring the fallout from the last few chapters, including Voldemort's return and many Prisoners of Azkaban.