CHAPTER 27
The Lair, One Hour Later...
With as much dignity as he could muster, Harry slowly resumed his seat. He thanked Draco and Blaise for their help in calming his psychic episode, before thanking the remainder of his friends for their assistance. If he noticed Luna level not-so-subtle pointed looks at the side of Blaise's head, he chose not to mention it.
"You're certain you're alright mate?" Flint's expression was still deeply troubled as Theo and Ginny exchanged tense glances.
"Yeah, as well as I can be." Harry turned once more to the Hydra, hissing sharply. As expected, nothing happened. Frowning for a few more moments, he suddenly snapped his fingers as he quickly unholstered his wand.
"SERPENSORTIA!" A small garter snake poured out of his wand, curling against itself as it awaited instructions from its summoner.
"Speak to the Hydra!" Harry hissed commandingly. "Ask them why they won't talk to me!"
Without hesitation, it turned and relayed the message to the Throne. A few seconds ticked by uncomfortably. Just as Harry was about to Banish the snake in irritation, one of the Hydra heads moved.
It was Mara the Ashwinder, who turned her head to face Rajah, the great Basilisk who stood in the middle and served as the unofficial chair-snake for their committee.
"The false snake addresses us Rajah," she hissed in her husky voice. "Per instruction, we are only expressly forbidden to talk to other Speakers. Not to snakes summoned by other Speakers. A rather clever means of circumvention." She nodded approvingly at Harry as Rajah stared unblinkingly at the nervous Claimant.
"Certainly you aren't considering breaking with tradition!" The Runespoor hissed in harmonious outrage. "The order was clear and came from one whose authority clearly outranks that of this fledgling!" Harry barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at their haughty snootiness.
"Well I, for one, do question it," hissed Ka the Cobra somewhat pompously. "It is far from clear if the Emeritus has the authority to issue such a command in his…current state." Harry's brow quirked curiously at that. "The Creator left no wisdom applicable to these highly unusual circumstances. I do beseech you to reconsider Rajah."
"Perhaps you ought to reconsider old friend," rumbled Nidhogg quietly, staring critically at Potter and his friends. "Or perhaps…not." He stretched his considerable size to come face-to-face with Harry. By his side, the young wizard registered Theo and Marcus shiver in equal measure. "This is a test for the Prince-Claimant. If he cannot defeat his enemy without our assistance, then he does not deserve that assistance in the first place." Harry swallowed his outrage, not wanting to incite the great krait's wrath as he returned to his initial position.
"Oh quiet you old grump!" Delilah rolled her eyes as Nidhogg hissed in angry retort. "Need I remind you that young Harry here is the Sitting Claimant, and based on his successes so far, will be the key to guiding the Creator's House to its fitting glory. We cannot allow the will of a disembodied Emeritus to dictate the course of the future." As always she stretched the upper half of her body to come face-to-face with Harry and flicked her tongue against his nose, causing him to giggle in spite of the seriousness of the situation. Reflexively he reached up and scratched her under her chin, causing her to giggle coquettishly before returning to her initial position. In tandem, the runespoor and krait rolled their eyes at the display, with the latter grumbling rather rudely under his breath about 'vacuous flirts'.
"Certainly," hissed Jormungand reasonably, "and we can at least respect the Prince-Claimant's cleverness in finding away around the limitations imposed by his secret enemy."
"Indeed," replied Mara. "Even more impressive that he came up with the idea on his own merits." She nodded respectfully in Harry's direction, who bowed back in equal respect.
"Enough!" hissed Rajah with authority. "I call for a vote. Let each serpent speak their will. Shall we speak to Prince-Claimant Harry Potter in defiance of the Emeritus's orders? Or shall we remain silent? Yes or no?"
"No!" hissed the Runespoor in unison.
"No," hissed the Krait.
"Yes," hissed the Boomslang forcefully.
"Yes," hissed the Ashwinder calmly.
"Yes," hissed the Python quietly.
"Yes," hissed the Cobra.
Rajah paused for a few moments. "I am the final vote. And I vote…no." Harry felt himself deflate a little. "Claimant you may be young Harry, but the other is an Emeritus. In line with established convention, he does outrank you. However, as the majority of the votes are in your favor, assistance will be provided to you in…a limited capacity."
"But Rajah, honestly! You cannot possibly be considering breaking tradition for a measly little claimant! It is highly unbecoming!" Tisiphone and Alecto looked equal parts exasperated and furious as Megaera just glared imperiously.
"We have voted, Exemplar of Tradition. The majority has spoken and you will submit to it. I will say, if the young Claimant doesn't address you directly, you are not obligated to relay your assistance." Rajah turned to address Harry directly: "I would suggest, young Claimant, that you have a serpent…translator readily summoned when speaking with us. Plausible deniability if you will." Harry nodded in agreement.
"A most fitting compromise," replied Jormungand diplomatically.
The Runespoor hissed in frustration for ten whole seconds (not unlike a child throwing a mini-tantrum) before finally calming. "Very well, Exemplar of Ambition. I submit to the majority's will. I will… assist Prince-Claimant Potter should he - excuse me, his translator - …directly request it of me." The tone suggested they'd rather wither and die before thinking about helping him, but Harry still smiled in gratitude.
The rest of the snakes hissed softly in agreement before resuming their positions.
"They've agreed to help you," said the garter snake patiently. Rolling his eyes, Harry nonetheless thanked it and addressed his very perplexed friends.
"They've voted and agreed to help me…with limitations." Harry quickly explained the situation as they exchanged worried and nervous glances.
"That's good, at least that's one hurdle out of the way," said Draco, brows crinkled in concentration. "Can they tell you exactly who this Emeritus is?" Harry turned and relayed Malfoy's question to the garter who relayed to the Hydra. A beat passed before Mara leaned down to respond.
"As the Exemplar of Charm iterated some moments ago, the Emeritus is currently…disembodied. I'm afraid both I and the rest of the Hydra swore to not reveal the exact identity." She gave him a significant look. 'Secrecy Oath then…damn!'
"Is he a ghost? Is he possessing a student? A professor?" asked Harry in mild exasperation.
"I can neither confirm nor deny if the Emeritus is currently possessing a student or a Professor." 'So possession then.' Harry fought the urge to groan in memory of Dark Quirrell and the absolute disaster that had been. Unbidden, an image of Lockhart flashed through his mind.
"Is the Emeritus a parselmouth?"
"I can neither confirm nor deny if the Emeritus is or is not a Speaker of the Founder's tongue."
"Is the Emeritus a past Prince? Or a Consilierii?"
"I can neither confirm nor deny said-Emeritus' status as a Prince or a Consilierii." 'So either or then. Blimey what a fucking disaster this is!' Harry quietly thanked Mara, who nodded in response before resuming quiescence with the rest of the Hydra.
"Well," asked Ginny impatiently. "What did she say?" Harry quickly relayed Mara's responses to his friends.
"Hm…", replied Eurus quietly. "So it's safe to assume that whomever has taken on the mantle of the 'Heir of Slytherin' is, in fact, a past-Slytherin who served on an Administration, either as Sitting Prince or a Consilierii. And potentially may be a Parselmouth. Bloody fantastic." Her exasperation was mirrored on almost everyone's face.
"Can the Founder's family tree provide any insight?" asked Blaise.
"No more than we had before. The only known descendant-Parselmouths are myself, my mom, and Jim Potter. Tom Riddle is currently at a work conference in Shamballa, and I can absolutely confirm that he isn't involved in this debacle." Well, technically he was involved, but his inability to work around the Fidelius' magic to help resolve this troubling conundrum did not make him the secret enemy.
"Do you…do you reckon it might be Amy Wilkes? She is a descendant of Erasmus Wilkes who was a Parselmouth." A thoughtful expression crossed Harry's face.
"Well…maybe? She wouldn't naturally be a Parselmouth since she's a girl…but it's absolutely possible that she could have learned to speak it just as my mum did. It's worth a shot, I'll ask Neville and Hermione to keep an eye on her."
A few moments passed before Marcus haltingly asked: "Do you think the Hydra will relay to the Emeritus that they did in fact speak with you?"
"That's what he's there for." Harry pointed to the little garter who still sat patiently. "Plausible deniability; the Emeritus never forbade the Hydra from speaking with other snakes summoned by another - Speaker or otherwise. So long as another snake can act as an intermediary, we should be in the clear." Relief was evident on almost all their faces.
"Well, at least we're finally making some progress," said Theo with somewhat-forced enthusiasm. "Who knows, with our luck, we might have this entire situation solved before the week's end!"
From his position, Blaise just barely resisted the urge to slam his head repeatedly against the table, not even wanting to guess what horrors the gods of irony would unleash upon them in vengeful challenge.
Headmaster's Office, 10:14AM
The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife.
Across from the Headmaster sat Jim Potter, back stiff and straight looking everywhere but Professor Dumbledore's disappointed expression. 'Bloody hypocrites,' he thought with some venom. He'd been grilled for almost half an hour regarding the previous day's duel. Specifically regarding the lethal spells he'd used against his brother in direct violation of the DADA Professor's explicit instructions otherwise. Jim had insisted he was merely defending himself, especially since Harry and his sneaky snakey friends had banded together and almost beat him to death! To the Potter Heir's enduring ire, Dumbledore kept insisting that Harry had an alibi and that his attackers had merely used the boy as a proxy to get closer to Jim. Safe to say the Gryffindor was not buying that overly convenient excuse.
Professors Lockhart, McGonagall, and Snape all stared quietly at the young Gryffindor with varying expressions. The Gryffindor Head of House was quite tense, lips pursed so tightly they looked as though they didn't exist. Snape was as silent as a statue, expression as calm and composed as usual in spite of the heavy bags that lined his eyes. Lockhart leaned against the wall with a too-casual expression, though thankfully that dreadfully affected laugh had yet to make a cameo.
Sitting on Jim's left side was James Potter, who was shocked and incredulous at the sheer mountain of information that had been recently revealed. Since Jim had refused to speak to him since the disastrous events at the Potter Christmas Ball, he was quite taken aback at the sheer amount of disastrous events that had passed. Not only did his ex-wife lay Petrified in the Hospital Wing (his heart twinged painfully), somehow, his younger son may or may not have plotted a gang-style attack against his Heir by nearly beating him to death. In seeming retaliation, Jim had almost killed his younger brother in a heated and violent duel. But that wasn't the worst part of it all.
Jim Potter, his firstborn son and Heir to his House, was a Parselmouth. Somehow, the Boy-Who-Lived had developed (or acquired if one of the rampant rumors were to be believed) the ability to talk to snakes. The mark of the darkest of magicks of the darkest of lords. Unbidden, a shiver ran through James as the whisperings of Cassandra Trelawney's prophecy pounded at his head and the doom it foretold for them all.
"Are we done here Headmaster?" asked Jim tightly. McGonagall and James frowned at his tone while Dumbledore just sighed.
"Mr. Potter, I understand given…recent developments that tensions may be high, but that doesn't excuse-"
"I know being able to talk to snakes is the reason for 'high tensions' (Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he felt James flinch beside him), but I think we've reached an impasse in this whole…discussion." His disdain was obvious as Dumbledore could only sigh some more. "Harry and his snakey pals attacked me, I finally get a chance to defend myself, and somehow, after I save his wretched little life from some monster snake roasting him to death, I still catch flack. Seems quite obvious to me that nothing I say or do will ever be right, so I might as well not bother at all."
"Merlin's sake Jim we're just-" James froze as Jim turned and glared intensely, the burning fire of his eyes enough to make his father stop mid-word.
"I am done with this discussion. I have nothing to say to anyone about anything. I have quite a bit of homework to review, and I've already spent quite a bit of my limited time here." He snorted contemptuously as McGonagall's lips (somehow) thinned even more. "Since I am no longer welcome in my own Common Room, I figured I'd spend the rest of my morning studying in the Library."
"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall looked outraged. "What do you mean you're no longer 'welcome in the Common Room'?" Jim swallowed back the insult at the tip of his tongue, beating back Mr. Nemo's insistent mental whisperings. He'd rather not spend the remainder of his days languishing away in detention.
"I mean that my Housemates felt it necessary to let me know the previous night that I was to, in no uncertain terms, refrain from mucking about in their Common Room, since I'm a Parselmouth and all that." Minerva looked horrified. "Since many of them now believe that I'm the Dark Lord incarnate and the Heir of Slytherin, they don't want me to accidentally…or perhaps purposefully kill or petrify them. It's only thanks to Ron and Neville that I was able to get to my room and get any semblance of sleep last night. Oh, and I suppose Granger prevented Cormac from hexing me behind my back." He sneered as McGonagall's expression whitened, the same mirrored on his father's. Lockhart and Dumbledore looked distinctly perturbed at the revelation, and even Snape looked concerned.
"We will see into this issue Mr. Potter, of that you can be certain. You are dismissed." A few beats passed before Jim nodded tightly at Dumbledore and stood, outright ignoring his father's pleading looks. James Potter was still at the very top of his shit list, and would remain there for the foreseeable future.
Just as he swung his knapsack over his shoulder, one of its straps caught on the back of the chair, resulting in a giant tear that caused his books and other belongings to come tumbling out, some sliding land near the standing Professors. Groaning he quickly bent down to gather his things as he heard James cast a Reparo at his ruined knapsack. Jim turned to the Professors to retrieve the rest of his fallen items, only to freeze in trepidation.
Because right at Lockhart's feet was his copy of Occlumency: A Beginner's Guide. And the man had obviously realized the significance of the book because he alternated between staring at it and the Gryffindor wizard with a hardened expression.
In desperation Jim made to grab at the book, but Lockhart was faster, snatching the book from the floor as his expression grew even harder.
"Where. Did. You. Get. This?" Heir Potter nervously licked his lips as the others started at the flashy man's uncharacteristically brusque tone.
"I will ask you only once more Mr. Potter; where did you get this?!" He shook the faded red book in his hand, expression growing more furious.
"Gilderoy, what is the meaning of this? What is going on?" Dumbledore's tone was quiet but sharp.
"Yeah, I'd like an explanation too, given this line of questioning against my Heir." Jim rolled his eyes while Gilderoy snorted contemptuously before sneering fiercely at the elder Potter. This startled everyone else in the room, most of whom thought the overly affable man incapable of such expression.
"As usual, Lord Potter, you make everything about your own persistently puerile feelings and miss the true crux of the matter at hand." He sneered once more, stoking James' own ire and embarrassment. "'Nemo' is the Latin word for 'nobody!' An appropriate pseudonym, don't you agree, for the man you probably know better as Augustus Rookwood!"
James's face went ashen as Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape looked over at Jim in shock.
"Oh yes," Lockhart continued relentlessly, expression twisting cruelly. "That Augustus Rookwood! The former Unspeakable who now rots in Azkaban having betrayed his most sacred oaths in exchange for a place as one of the Dark Lord's most trusted lieutenants!" Gilderoy actually laughed at James's horrified expression which matched that of his son. "Your precious offspring, the world-renowned Boy-Who-Lived, has been teaching himself Occlumency out of a bloody Death Eater training manual!"
James was speechless for several seconds before he was finally able to address his son. "Jim... is ... is this ... true?!"
Jim Potter blinked several times and licked his lips. "I want to talk to my lawyer."
11:51AM
The last of Team Chameleon slowly trickled out of the makeshift potions labs adjoining the DADA classroom, with Lavender quietly closing the door behind her.
The room's two remaining occupants - Fred Weasley and Miranda Bonnevie - didn't bother to look up, both too engrossed in their tasks. Though the two had initially gotten off on the wrong foot (both too cagey and distrusting of the other), the two had established a tentative partnership based on mutual respect of their abilities. Both were highly skilled and extremely competitive, easily outdoing many in Team Chameleon in a battle to outdo each other. To their mutual shock, their stiffest competition had been Lavender Brown, the Gryffindor proving to be an exceptionally competent brewer.
At the current moment, they were working together on brewing a highly experimental batch of Polyjuice; in addition to Exstimulo Potion, this particular batch was infused with a potent tincture of stargrass, crushed coriander seeds, and murtlap solution. It seemed that altered-Polyjuice brewed in a copper cauldron had the unintended side-effect of extreme nausea, one Miranda could attest to after spending almost an hour a few nights prior puking her guts out in the Prefects' Bathrooms.
"So," said Miranda after a few moments. "Did Professor Lockhart ever discover who made off with your potion phials?" Fred frowned in response as he quietly stirred the simmering potion.
"No, unfortunately. It's been driving me absolutely barmy!" He shook his head in irritation. "I assumed it was someone in this class (Miranda's stomach flipped uncomfortably), but after the whole Dr. Barbie situation a few weeks ago, I imagine anyone determined enough could've snuck in here and made off with them." Miranda made a noncommittal sound as she continued stirring her batch.
"Did Lockhart discover what was done with them? Polyjuice doesn't keep for long, even one that has been altered to be longer-lasting." Weasley frowned once more.
"It seems that whomever took it used it in some sick prank to attack Jim Potter. Use it to make themselves look like Harry, before ganging up on Jim and almost beat him to death." Miranda's stomach did that uncomfortable flip as the memories of That Night flashed in her mind's eye. "Jim's convinced Harry's to blame for it somehow, but kid's got an alibi. Besides…something like that doesn't seem like Harry's style at all. He can't stand Jim well enough, but sneaking up on him and beating him up? Nah, definitely not his MO."
"Do you…do you think someone in Slytherin had something to do with it?" Fred leveled a penetrating stare at her.
"Why Bonnevie?," his eyes narrowed intensely. "You confessing?"
"WHAT?!" She made an odd choking sound, internally startled that he'd made that connection so quickly. "Absolutely not!" Weasley just kept up that damnable stare, before throwing his head back in a mighty guffaw.
"You should've seen the look on your face, Bonnevie, bloody hilarious!" He hemmed and hawed even as Miranda smacked him on the shoulder, before calming himself into giggles as the Slytherin witch grumbled in irritation. She was thankful for her Occlumency shields, else she'd have broken down in a panic attack.
Soon Weasley calmed down, allowing the two to continue their brewing, occasionally stopping to scribble and compare their notes as needed. Once complete, they gently levitated the cauldron to a warded off area so the potion could continue its brewing. It would take a whole month before it would be complete, but they were off to a good start. They made quick work of cleaning up their work area, before exiting the class and making their way to the Great Hall for lunch.
"Here's hoping that batch turns out well," said Miranda quietly. "Wouldn't have thought to add Stomach Soother ingredients to Polyjuice…pretty brilliant." She hadn't realized what she'd said until Fred stopped walking. In a flash, he was standing right in front of her, crowding her personal space as he used his greater height to loom over her. His expression was one she'd never seen directed at her; toffee hazel eyes sparkling as a roguish grin spread across his face. He was awfully close to her, she could practically count the freckles dusting his skin.
"You think I'm brilliant Bonnevie?" He leaned down closer, their noses almost touching. "Why, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He was so close, and for a split second, she could've sworn his eyes flashed to her lips. Lips that she'd licked in nervousness as her heart raced. He leaned just a touch closer, and as though she'd zapped with an electric shock, Miranda let out a loud "Meep!" before racing off to the Great Hall.
Though Fred loudly chuckled at her reaction, it didn't cover the small flash of disappointment that briefly illuminated his eyes.
Gamekeeper's Hut, 5:43PM
Quickly tidying his living area, Hagrid banished his used tea set to the kitchen sink, watching in satisfaction as the auto-cleaning charms started.
Rousing Fang for his much-needed evening walk, the half-giant and his faithful companion made their way out his hut and began their familiar trek into the forest. A few feet away from their path Hagrid suddenly paused at the uncommonly odd sight before him. Fang barked in confusion, also wondering what exactly was going on.
It was a long trail of spiders, furiously scrambling over themselves as they dashed into the forest. The CoMC Professor frowned as his lips pursed, before unholstering his chestnut wand.
"SCRUTIMINIUS SPIDERS." His wand spun before pointing directly at the castle. Following his wand's direction, he walked a path to the castle, ignoring the curious stares of students. He soon landed at the landing of the staircases leading to the second floor. Specifically, the abandoned girls' lavatory on the second floor. Hagrid's heart began racing in a panic, his expression growing considerably pale. By his side Fang gently woofed in concern, nudging his wet nose against his master's palm.
'This is bad, this is very very bad.' He'd been horrified the last Halloween when the first petrification had happened, coupled with the graphic message of the Heir of Slytherin. He'd allowed himself to be naïve, hoping against hope that it'd been a mere coincidence, albeit a rather cruel one.
Then his roosters had turned up headless, their bodies scattered macabrely around the perimeter of his home. He'd complained to the Headmaster as was expected, but deep down the same feelings of horror had bubbled uncomfortably.
Then, Lily had ended up Petrified, her body turning up right in front of the lavatory. He'd had a chance to talk to Tom then, begging his old friend that they needed to do something, tell someone before their terrible shared history ended up repeating itself. To his consternation, he'd allowed Riddle to talk him off the proverbial ledge, convincing him that it was better to stay quiet. That there was no guarantee it was absolutely related to their Secret.
But now…Hagrid's eyes followed the trail of spiders, their movements ordered in spite of the urgency with which they scampered off. 'Spiders flee before it…'
Shaking out of his reverie, the half-giant and his faithful canine all but raced back to his hut. Once inside the safety of his abode he paced frantically for a whole minute, before finally calming down to properly think. He snapped his fingers as an idea came to him.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" The glowing form of a porlock bounded out the wand, canting around in search of trouble before coming to stop in front of Hagrid, awaiting instruction.
"Go to Tom. Tell him 'Somnus finivit'. Hurry!" The ghostly form raced out the hut as Hagrid trudged over to his couch and laid down tiredly as Fang cuddled into his side. A few seconds later Patton the porlock raced back into the living room, clearly unable to deliver his message. At that exact moment, Hagrid recalled that Tom was in a work conference in Shamballa, and the ancient wards prevented unregistered Patronuses from entering.
"Well…bugger."
Hogwarts Library, 8:42PM
The scratching of quills was all that could be heard as Draco, Ginny, and Eurus completed their homework assignments. The former two had sought Herbology tutoring from the latter, who was quite gifted in the subject. Draco was especially relieved for that; while he and Longbottom were on better terms, his pride preferred he went to a Slytherin for his academic needs. And unlike most other Slytherins, Eurus was very kind and accommodating in sharing her knowledge, not asking for anything in return. Though Malfoy supposed that had more to do with all three of them being part of Harry's Inner Circle.
Thoughts of the younger Potter brother gave Draco some pause, though he was clever enough not to show it on his face. He would never admit it out loud, but seeing Harry so…vulnerable had left him a touch rattled, even moreso that he'd been the one to help restore him back to fighting form. Harry had even made it a point to thank him again after they finished their business in the Lair, squeezing Draco's shoulder in appreciation. The young Malfoy wasn't completely sure, but he was certain he and Harry's budding camaraderie had gained a much needed boost.
"Well," said Ginny while stretching. "I'm completely knackered. We've been at it for almost two hours, and I think I've gotten all I needed done for the night." Unbidden she yawned rather loudly, before clapping a hand over her mouth as she blushed and mumbled an apology.
Eurus just giggled. "Sounds good to me. I think you've all grasped what you need for our next lesson. Just remember, add Spellotape face-up to your plant trays before placing the leaping toadstool, so they don't get all frisky and hop away. Should be a breeze!" Both Ginny and Draco nodded in complete seriousness, before working to gather their things and leave the study area spick-and-span. None of them wanted to incur Madam Pince's wrath.
Task completed, the three students exited the Library and made the long journey back to the Slytherin dorms nestled. Attempts at mundane conversation had been made, which was really just Eurus - with an arm looped through those of an equally amused Ginny and Draco - chattering on about the "wonderfully wintery snow storm" they were expecting over the coming weekend, making them promise that they'd come with her and Luna to the kitchens to indulge in marshmallow hot chocolate and double fudge chocolate cookies the elves were fond of making when the weather turned particularly frosty. Neither Weasley nor Malfoy noticed that Eurus' endearingly bubbly chatter kept both of them from trading barbs with the other. Though their relations had improved significantly (especially in the company of other Houses), the magic of the Enmity Oath ensured that neither could resist the occasional dig at the other.
The three Slytherins soon reached the stairwell that led to the second floor, a few feet away from the abandoned girls' lavatory. Making their descent, all three frowned their faces at the uncommon amount of flooding that covered almost entirely of the floor.
"Merlin's sake, this bloody castle is falling apart! Are the Hogwarts' coffers so paltry that we can't even afford decent plumbing?" Draco unholstered his hawthorn wand as Ginny snorted and removed hers - 12 ¾ inch yew with dragon heartstring of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. Together, the two successfully dried a path as the trio resumed their way to their dorms.
Just as they turned the corner, they heard footsteps behind them. That, coupled with the faintest echo of…whistling. Specifically, God Save the Queen.
As one, the three turned and froze at the sight before them. Draco actually snarled in fury before addressing the redhead boy.
"Weaselby? What the hell are you doing here?!"
The boy - casually leaning against the wall closest to the lavatory entrance - laughed with a high-pitched giggle quite different from Ronald's normally bright and boyish laugh. It sounded…oddly squeaky, those no less menacing. His face assumed an amused and indulgent expression as he stared unblinkingly at the three serpents. He was out his outer robe, the sleeves of his white undershirt rolled up. Eurus noticed the strangely raised flesh-toned markings that marred both his arms, disappearing into his shirt sleeve. It didn't look like anything she'd ever seen before, not even Elder Futhark. She had the distinctly unsettling sensation that whatever was etched into Ron Weasley's skin was not meant to be read by human eyes.
"Oh…just hanging about. Taking care of some last minute things." He shrugged in a manner that was at once casual and quite elegant, again, markedly different from Ron's typical mannerisms.
"Ron," said Ginny quietly and with no small amount of trepidation. "What is going on? What are you even doing here?" Ron laughed that disturbingly high-pitched giggle again, this time twirling his wand with such affected casualness that it made the hair on both Ginny and Eurus' necks stand up.
"Like I said, tying up a few loose ends. Pity, I hadn't expected any of you to be one of the little strings I would need to…snip." He smiled with all his teeth, practically oozing malice. At that moment, Ginny was reminded of Luna's warnings about her needing to speak to Ron. She'd promised the blonde that she would do it, but alas, her own nervousness and cowardice had prevented her from trying to talk to her brother. She knew that she'd regret that decision for a very long time.
Suddenly, Eurus' eyes widened as everything clicked into place. In a flash, her wand seemingly appeared in her hand as her expression tightened. Ginny and Draco started, not expecting that reaction.
"YOU!" She exclaimed in righteous fury. "All this time, all of these horrible things that have happened! Mrs. Norris, then Professor Evans… it was YOU!" Ginny's eyes widened as she stared at her older brother in dismay, realizing (but not willing to admit) the truth of Eurus' statement.
"Oh yessss, little east wind – it was all me. Me, me, me." He laughed again as Eurus and Draco snarled as one.
"Why?" Ginny whispered brokenly. "Why would you do this Ron?" Then, her eyes widened as the earlier conversation from the Lair flitted through her mind. "Possession…" Her eyes grew even wider. "Is… is it the Dark Lord? Is he making you do this?" In a flash her wand was in her hand, expression contorted in righteous fury though part of her trembled in fear. "Let my brother go this instant, or I'll annihilate you." Ron just laughed some more as he twirled his wand in that infuriatingly casual manner.
At this point, Draco was beyond anger, his feelings stoked by the flames of the Enmity Oath. To discover that Weaselby had been behind the madness that had plagued Hogwarts for almost the entire school year was bad enough. What was unacceptable, was that the no-good Weasel stood in front of his better and gloated, even as the depth of his deranged schemes had been discovered!
There was no more time for words. Now was the time for action.
"FLIPENDO!" In a flash Ron wordlessly parried the curse away, expression tightening in rage. Non-verbal Laceros rained down relentlessly on the Slytherin trio, parrying and dodging as best as they could. Two struck Eurus on her shoulder and her non-wand arm, forcing her down with a cry. Despite that, she still did her best to parry. Suddenly Draco stood in front of her, casting a Protego to further shield her.
"EVERTE STATUM!" Ron once more parried the spell away before sharply twisting his wand.
"SsSERPENSsSORTIA!" A massive boa sprung from Ron's wand and slammed into Ginny, coiling its way around her and squeezing her so tightly she lost consciousness and slumped to the floor. Eurus screamed her name as a well-timed Incarcerous made sure his sister wouldn't get back up, before Ron summoned her wand into his waiting hand. From his position huddled protectively in front of Eurus, Draco could only gawk.
"You're a bloody Parselmouth?! How?!" Ron just laughed as his eyes gleamed hatefully, before making to strike the blonde down. He'd forgotten Eurus still possessed her wand.
"ALTAWA'U!" Eyes widening comically Ron looked down at his legs as they twisted as though they were rubber bands, his knees bending in the opposite direction as he crumpled to the floor. Draco didn't hesitate.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" In a motion too fast for either Slytherin to catch, Ron's wand erected an invisible shield that blocked Draco's Disarming Charm, dissipating it without effect. If Professor Flitwick had been present (and the circumstances had been vastly different), he would have been thoroughly impressed by another equally flawless execution of the Anti-Disarming Counter-Jinx.
Draco hesitated a second too long, because he soon found himself Disarmed and bound up next to Ginny. Eurus soon followed, having lost quite a bit of blood as she shook her head woozily.
Oozing smugness, Ron sauntered over to the trio and magically gagged all three, before casting a Rennervate at Ginny. The witchling slowly came to, glaring in equal measure of anger and deep sadness at her brother. Draco just fumed, struggling against his bonds like an enraged cat. Eurus was resigned, already knowing what to expect next.
"Ah, looks like the gang's all here!" He threw his head back and giggled uproariously, causing goosebumps to erupt on the downed trio's combined flesh. "It's time to say hello…to my special friend!"
Later that night, Luna and the Silver Trio would be seated in the Lair, wondering where the hell Draco, Ginny, and Eurus were. Luna would attempt to send several messages to Eurus using some of the talking parchment Hermione had gifted to them, but she would receive no response.
Suddenly, Marcus would burst into the Lair, his expression graver than any had ever seen on the older wizard's face. He would tell them that they needed to go to the Common Room immediately, because Professor Snape had to make an emergency announcement.
With growing dread they would quickly make their way to Common Room, huddling together as their Head of House - expression tighter than they'd ever seen - would inform them that Mr. Malfoy, Miss Kolumbiko, and Ms. Weasley had been found Petrified near the abandoned girls' lavatory on the second floor, and had been moved to the Hospital Wing. He would calmly inform them that curfew had been officially instituted, and that all students were to be in their Common Rooms no later than 8PM, with a Prefect escort ensuring they made it in one piece. Snape would insist that if any of them violated the new rules, it would be an automatic 50 point loss and a week of detention, no exceptions.
The Potions Master would turn to make his exit, but a sudden thud would force him to stop and turn around in alarm.
He would find the Silver Trio worriedly huddled around Luna Lovegood, who, as a result of the onslaught of her combined shock and grief and rage, would have fainted dead away.
AN 1: "ALTAWA'U!" translates to "Torsion!", which in this context acts like a Leg-Twister Jinx.
AN 2: Fred and Miranda...we'll see how far that goes. I will say that both have a mutual respect for the other's intellectual abilities. Without the added context of being a pranking arsehat, Fred can be rather...charmingly bookish. More on that later.