CHAPTER 32
Hospital Wing, 7:28AM
With a languid yawn Harry awoke, nose wrinkling at the pervasive smell of analgesic that signature to the Infirmary. His expression turned downward at seeing the sheer amount of petrification victims that laid in their respective beds, morbid renditions of statues frozen in terror and time. 'Hopefully not for long.' He was hopeful that Lord Kolumbiko would be able to get the mandrake crop over to Hogwarts in time, even moreso since it meant that Severus would be back to Hogwarts soon. As it stood, Lord Black and Heir Montague were currently at the DMLE, attempting to figure out a feasible logistics plan to circumvent the Hogwarts' wards until the entire nightmare situation was resolved.
Smiling, Harry looked down at his right hand to see it gently held my Luna's own. The blonde was laid in the bed next to his, seemingly fast asleep. However, the light twitching of her lips gave it away.
"Morning Harry. Sleep well?"
"Well enough. Can't lie really needed that rest. You sleep well?" A responding yawn and cat-like stretch was her response, causing him to chuckle at her antics. Almost as if she'd been summoned, Madam Pomfrey rushed over towards them, doing her usual fussing as she ran diagnostic tests whilst poking and prodding.
"You two are in good health, that round of Dreamless Sleep did you both good. Potter, your godfather mentioned he'll return no later than this evening. I reckon things will be quite mad today. Anyway, you will have breakfast here, and then you'll be off to your Common Room. One of the elves will pop you over…it's the safest means now." Her face twisted sadly, before shaking off her expression. Soon a heaping tray of scrambled eggs, rashers, pastries, and bowls of fresh fruit appeared, paired with a full tea set and glasses of water. The two made quick work of the feast, chatting as casually as they could. Luna was certain to skirt around the topic of Reg Lockhart, knowing that would be a conversation best held in absolute privacy. Soon they finished their meal, before the Slytherin house elf popped in to take them to their Common Room.
"Mr. Tweak," asked Luna in her sweet and airy voice. "Would you mind terribly popping us into… the Throne Room?" She whispered that last bit in the elf's ear, not wanting to be overheard by anyone. "We would very much appreciate it."
The elf leveled a gimlet eye at them both. "Alright," he said after a few moments. "But only this once." In a blink they found themselves in the Lair.
"Thank you Mr. Tweak!" Luna settled herself into her favorite chair as an amused Harry sat across from her. In less than a minute Miranda burst through the entrance, face twisted in worry.
"Well," she asked impatiently as she took a seat beside Luna. "How did it go?" As one the two younger Slytherins gave her a thorough synopsis of their confrontation with Lockhart, Sirius and Rodney's intervention, and the madman's subsequent escape.
"It was absolutely bizarre! I mean…Lockhart just transformed into a cackling loon! It really doesn't make sense at all!" Harry looked equal parts flummoxed and outraged. I mean, he literally said 'BWA-HA-HA!' Who does that?! No one in real life goes into a rant and laughs 'BWA-HA-HA!' It's beyond anything remotely absurd!" Miranda looked startled while Luna just stared intensely above Harry's head.
"Did he say anything else? Anything other than 'BWA-HA-HA?"
Harry shook his head "He didn't have time. The minute he expelled Sirius out of the room we dueled for, I dunno, fifteen seconds? He disarmed me then bound me. Then he spent the next twenty seconds gloating like a madman before Sirius and Rodney got through the Fiendfyre the nutter conjured up. I mean Fiendfyre, honestly he's-" Harry looked up at that exact moment and noticed that Luna was staring at him wide-eyed.
"What?" he asked.
"Harry." Luna said very quietly. "I was with Sirius and Rodney the entire time they tried to bring down the Fiendfyre. It took them almost five minutes to get it under control. You…you were alone with Lockhart for all that time."
Harry stared at his friend for several seconds. "What?" he whispered in a softly leaden voice.
With slow deliberation Luna searched through her brightly knitted knapsack and withdrew a Remembrall, a small globe forged of pearlescent mithril that glowed with an unusual luminescence. "It was my mother's…I…I keep with it me as a small memento of her." Luna's pale blue eyes flickered with brief sadness. Shaking it off, she gently handed the Remembrall over to Harry. The minute it landed in his hands the device turned a vivid…blue.
"Okay," Harry said with exaggerated calm. "That's new."
"From the little I know…red is for erased or altered memories caused by the original Memory Charm spells," said Miranda as he walked around the Hydra to stand over Harry. "Blue…I believe…is for Memory Lock spells."
Luna's eyes widened as Harry nervously gulped.
"Harry," Miranda said quietly, "if Luna's assessment is correct, that means that you've had your memories locked away. And memory lock spells…well…they require your consent to be effective."
Harry stared at the older witch for several seconds, processing this new development. "So, how do I get access to the memories locked away?" Miranda looked perplexed but Luna's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"We'll need a pensieve of course."
Slytherin Boys Dorm, 8:47AM
A sullen Cassius laid in his bed, frowning up at the ceiling.
The previous night had been an absolute disaster, a rather ironic twist considering the news of the Headmaster's petrification and that of the other mudbloods and blood traitors should have filled him with joy.
No.
What constituted a disaster was that he had almost been part of the group that had been Petrified! It'd been a sheer stroke of luck that he'd missed the summons to show up to the Staff Room. He'd been napping in his room, needing a quick repass before supper. "Thank Merlin for that." Warrington groaned in frustration.
What he found particularly disturbing was that his name had been part of the summons to begin with! If by some terrible misfortune he'd been there, he would have ended up Petrified! He, Heir Warrington, purest of blood and purpose, would have been felled by the Heir of Slytherin himself!
"It doesn't make any sense!" He slammed his hand down in frustration. From what he'd believed Jim Potter, as the Heir of Slytherin and a descendant Parselmouth of the great Founder, was meant to be continuing the noble purpose to ridding the school of the mudblood, blood traitors, and all manner of other riff-raff that had polluted their world for generations. But in an unprecedented turn, the Heir had used his powers to petrify other purebloods, those, like Chang, Smith, and Stretton, who were true believers of the cause. Even Malfoy, whom despite his recent consorting with filth, was still of good pureblood Slytherin stock. Strong seeds of doubt bloomed in Cassius' mind.
"And I helped him!" The memory of him and Pershore (a member of Team Backdoor and a surprisingly competent Runes student) drawing the explosive runes in the dead of the night in the Potions Lab flashed in his mind. Thanks to the Heir's…assistance, they'd been able to bypass the formidable wards the Potions Master utilized to safeguard the lab. While he could respect Snape's pedigree as Lord Prince (and a Slytherin to boot), the man was still a halfblood traitor who conspired with mudbloods and other halfblood traitors. It was the principle of the thing!
Suddenly, he felt a touch of dread creep up his spine and settle within his thoughts. 'If…if Jim Potter is not the true Heir of Slytherin… then who the hell is the Heir?!"
Gryffindor Common Room, 10:16AM
With a tired sigh Amy leaned back into the sofa, grateful to have a small moment of peace. The previous night had been uncommonly stressful, though the witchling couldn't really complain. Several students were still milling about, preferring the comfort of sleeping and lounging downstairs as a group vs. being separated upstairs in their respective dorms.
Ever since she'd marched into the Common Room with Auror Shacklebolt and Lord Malfoy to inform her Housemates of the petrifications in the Sorting Room, young Amy had become somewhat of a quasi-authority in the Lions' Den on how best to confront the situation. Upper Years Angelina Johnson, Justine Britnell, Fiona Belmont, Wayne Portchester, and Oliver Wood had been instrumental in helping keep the House calm, relying on their popularity to keep their more rowdy housemates in order. Amy was inordinately grateful. While more in the House had warmed up to her, there were quite a few who were still willing to hold her father's atrocious actions against her. That, coupled with the opinions of gits like McClaggen which were held in high regard. She frowned in distaste at the memory of the older boy's awful actions, before cringing when she remembered that he'd been petrified.
"How are you feeling?" Saffron plopped herself down next to her friend. She'd spent the bulk of her time with her older sister Lavender, comforting the distraught witch after she'd learned of Parvarti's petrification.
"Well enough I suppose. Honestly don't know how McGonagall deals with all of us all the time." Saffron giggled uproariously.
"True. Though you seem to be doing a right job of it, oh-great-Head-of-House understudy." Amy sputtered as Saffron snickered, before the two friends broke down into giggles.
They chatted about more mundane topics for some minutes before interrupted by a soft pop. It was Curly, Nitwit's right-hand elf. She whispered something into Amy's ear, causing the witchling's expression to go grim.
"You sure?" Amy asked quietly. Curly nodded vigorously, before softly popping away.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing important, just Curly giving me a status update for lunch later this afternoon. Apparently, Lord Malfoy was insisting that he have private quarters set up for him if he's expected to and I quote 'take his dinner meal within the cesspit of the Lions' Den'". Amy sneered and rolled her eyes for effect, pleased when Saffron giggled. The young Wilkes was pleased that her lie had been so effective, because she was really in no mood to have to explain the real situation.
After the disaster in the Staff Room, Amy had been highly suspicious of Percy Weasley's whereabouts, considering he'd been the cause of summons for everyone who'd ended up petrified. She'd discreetly asked for Nitwit's assistance, and to her shock, the elf had informed her that Percy was upstairs in his room fast asleep. And per the elf's calculations, had been asleep for almost five hours due to the Dreamless Sleep potion he'd ingested. Not wanting to start a riot should the older wizard be awakened, Amy had requested that either Nitwit or one of his team elves keep an eye on the Gryffindor Prefect.
And now, Percy was due to awaken from his potion-induced sleep within the next hour and a half.
At last, Amy would get some bloody answers.
Professor Evans' Quarters, 11:46AM
"Honestly, I feel like we're back where we started."
Luna and Miranda snorted simultaneously at Harry's sardonic statement, though neither of them disagreed.
After almost two hours since they'd entered Lily Evans' private quarters to use her pensieve, the Slytherins had finally spotted the gap in Harry's memory. Just before Sirius Black blasted the door off its hinges and while Lockhart was laughing maniacally, there was the very slightest hiccup in the playback. During one of Lockhart's demented laughs, his body position changed fractionally but instantaneously. Equally telling was when Miranda looked out the window and noticed a bird flying by some distance away. At the exact instant of the hiccup, the bird instantly jumped a distance of what looked to be at least a mile.
"True enough. Now, we just have to figure out the password that Lockhart and I agree on." Harry slumped into the divan, more exhausted that he could express. Though he had been doing a relatively good job of it, he honestly didn't know much longer he could tolerate the chaos of the current situation.
"How long do you reckon it'll take?" asked Luna quietly.
"Not sure really," responded Miranda. "From my understanding the caster of the Memory Lock spell is the one who has to give the code. And now that said caster is a fugitive on the run…well…" she trailed off on a wince.
Tap-tap-tap.
"What on earth is that?!"
Tap-tap-tap…tap-tap!
"It's a…bird," said Luna as she stared at said creature's silhouette through the closed eastern-facing window. With a soft 'ALOHOMORA' she opened the window, allowing said bird to enter.
"A messenger falcon!", exclaimed Miranda. "Blimey, they're quite rare. They used to be de rigueur among the old families, especially during the Baroque Era. They could be outfitted with bits of charmed protective armor like this one is wearing. Showed off the family's status and made them impervious to spells." The older witch gestured to the beautifully ornate golden harness covering the bird's breast and bits of its back. "They were used to carry more discreet messages that didn't require sheets of parchment, like that little slip attached to its talon." As Luna looked down in amazement at the beautifully plumed raptor, Miranda discreetly cast detection spells at the creature to make sure it was safe. Ignoring the two witches, it gracefully hopped until it reached Harry, extending said talon that bore a tiny little slip. The minute it touched his hand the message revealed itself, causing Harry to swoon to the floor as the bird majestically took off.
Luna and Miranda excitedly called his name, as the former bent down to cradle his head in her lap and help him get steady. Fascinatingly enough, she saw the fuzzy gray wrackspurts buzzing around his nargles slowly fade away into nothingness.
"I... remember," Harry said dazedly.
"What? What do you remember?"
"Everything," the boy said. Then, he cleared his head and looked upwards at the two witches. "I remember my conversation with Lockhart. He'd been doing his own investigation on the Petrifications, and he finally figured out a clue. A useful clue. The answer regarding the question of the Heir and the Chamber of Secrets has something to do with the abandoned girls' lavatory. With the exception of the Staff Room incident, all of the other Petrifications happened there or close to there. Something is there…though Lockhart wasn't exactly sure what it was, he was certain that I would be able to figure it out. Something about Slytherin cunning meeting the Evans' sense of initiative." He rolled his eyes as he slowly stood up and straightened out his robes.
"Alright…that makes sense I suppose. But I also have to ask…why on earth didn't you tell the aurors about his true identity?! Especially since your godfather is his older brother." Harry could only sigh at Miranda's exclamation.
"Well…I reckon swearing a Secrecy Oath to not reveal his identity." He winced at their reactions.
"Honestly Harry, what on earth would possess you to do that? He could've just as easily been manipulating you."
"Trust me Luna, Reg Lockhart is very much on our side, and has been since the beginning. Trust me, Prince's Honor." The witches leveled dubious looks at him but nonetheless didn't pose a challenge.
"Well…"said Miranda quietly. "What's the plan?"
"Simple. We need to visit the lavatory."
Prefect's Alcove, Room 1 - 12:21PM
The room's occupants all listened aghast as Percy Weasley recounted his bizarre tale. Not only had he not been the cause of the summons that had led to the Staff Room petrifications, he himself had been a victim.
"You're absolutely certain?" Percy winced at the urgency in Angelina's voice, delicately sipping on his tea.
"Trust me, I am absolutely certain. I distinctly remember being cornered by my baby brother before blacking out. I imagine he Stunned me, drugged me, then used my pilfered hairs in Polyjuice Potion to pull off his…schemes." He winced once more, face tightening as his eyes turned distinctly sad. He felt a flash of regret at his earlier chastising of the Twins. He imagined that had been used as further inspiration to successfully drive his younger brothers from Hogwarts in suspension, quite possibly expulsion if Lord Malfoy had his way. 'They probably have a real reason to hate me now.'
"But what on earth would motivate Ron to do this? It doesn't make any sense!"
"He was - is - possessed." The reactions to Percy's statement were instantaneous; several gasped and quite a few (like Justine and Oliver) blanched in horror.
"How do you know that?!" exclaimed Amy incredulously.
"I caught a brief glimpse of his eyes before I blacked out. Last year's events with Professor Quirrell inspired me to do a bit of research regarding possession and its many manifestations. Instead of his usual blue, his eyes were black…almost fathomless. Quite frankly it looked as though I was looking into the eyes of a…rat…" Percy violently shook his head to clear it. "Still, I am certain of the color change, and per my research eye color change is one of the primary markers of possession, especially when the…entity that is doing the possessing decides to manifest itself." With a wince he took a rather hefty swig of his tea, oddly wishing for something stronger despite not being a drinker. "I…I am ashamed to say that despite my earlier promises to Ron, I was utterly remiss in my duty to protect him. Perhaps if I'd recognized it sooner-"
"You can't have, honestly Percy. We've all been around Ron in some capacity and neither of us noticed anything. I doubt even Seamus or Dean noticed, else I imagined they would have said something too. Though I imagine that's rather redundant at this point." Angelina frowned in spite of herself.
"She's right. The most important thing is we figure out how to get this mess sorted out. Curly!" A soft pop signaled the elf's arrival.
"Yes Ms. Wilkes?"
"Please, are you able to tell me where Ron Weasley and Jim Potter are?" The elf closed her eyes in concentration. A beat later she frowned. "Sorry miss, I'm unable to find them."
"Are they still even in the castle at this point?"
"Maybe?" replied Curly apprehensively. "There are some rooms us elves can't get sense or get into without the Headmaster's presence, so it's possible they might be in there."
"And just how many rooms are there?"
"Um…" Curly closed her eyes once more in concentration, drawing on her connection to the ancient castle's wards. "Exactly seventeen rooms Ms. Wilkes!" Groans of consternation sounded out as Amy frowned in thought. Within moments she snapped her fingers in eureka.
"Curly, do you know where Harry Potter is?" Curly closed her eyes before quickly nodding. "Good. Please take me to him when we're done here." She turned to address the room's remaining occupants. "Since Prefect Weasley here is finally awake, he can resume his vigil with the rest of the Upper Years in the Common Room. Summon Nitwit - the Gryffindor House Head Elf - to you Percy if you need anything, he'll listen to you as Prefect. Make sure everyone stays in the Common Room too, better to keep an eye on them as this disaster continues to unfurl. All the better to update Auror Shacklebolt and Lord Malfoy when they finally get here. I'll go meet Harry and explain the situation to him. If he can find Jim, we'll definitely find Ron. Hopefully we can find some way to rid him of his possession…maybe."
"And who died and made you boss of us Amy Wilkes?" Though her tone was genial, there was a flash of fiery challenge in Justine's eyes. She'd never been fond of the little witch, due to the fact that her beloved uncle and wife had perished in the Toymaker's Siege of Appleby. As far she was concerned, the rotten little apple didn't fall too far from the demented and damaged tree.
Amy just flashed her a tight smile. "No one, Justine Britnell. I figured since I was the only one of our House who was able to survive the petrifications that took out almost all our school leadership and, inform our House of the disaster and keep us somewhat safe, it'd grant me some measure of situational authority." That shut a reddening Justine up as the room's other occupants looked on, equal parts impressed and amused.
Making sure she had her wand, Amy grasped Curly's long fingers in her own small ones, both disappearing in a soft pop.
"Blimey!" said Oliver in amazement. "I know she's a tiny Firstie and all that but Merlin's beard! She's about as scary as McGonagall!"
Abandoned Girls' Lavatory, 12:39PM
With measured footsteps the trio of Slytherins slowly proceeded into the empty girls' lavatory on very high alert, wands at the ready. Miranda had discreetly cast detection spells as they ventured in, though so far her acacia wand hadn't alerted her to any discrepancies. She cast a series of privacy wards at the entrance to stave off anyone who would want to interfere.
Upon entering the bathroom proper Harry searched all of the empty stalls, finding nothing save the occasional random flushing of toilets. Moaning Myrtle had yet to make an appearance, which was decidedly odd considering the ghost girl's propensity to pop up and tearily scream at any intruders.
"Soooooo…what now?"
Harry could only shrug at Miranda's question as he cast a series of his own detection spells, finding nothing of any import. Groaning in frustration he froze at Luna's confused expression. The blonde was staring at the column of sinks that stood directly in the middle of the room, stretching from floor to ceiling. The column itself was quite serpentine in shape, oddly reminding Harry of the Sentinel when he was at full form was It looked to have once been gleaming cream-colored marble, but time and neglect had rendered it into a pillar of mold and grime.
Harry came to stand by her, wondering what on earth she was looking at. "Luna…is something there?"
The blonde continued her staring, tilting her head back and forth as though examining something she couldn't quite focus on. Miranda made her way over, wondering what on earth the witchling was looking at.
"I…I'm not sue Harry. There's an odd…blanket of wrackspurts covering one of the sink columns. There's so many of them, altogether it looks like a thin film of white cobweb. Makes everything its cast over look blurred and warped, like it's…there but not really. There's an outline of an Umgubular Slashkilter too, sitting right at the top." She tilted her head in a Padfoot-like manner. "Well…moreso its eye, though it's closed at the moment." Miranda looked completely flabbergasted at the creatures the blonde listed, briefly wondering if she'd succumbed to a sudden bout of insanity. She was even more shocked when Harry nodded along seriously with the madness the girl just spouted.
"Hm…so something is hidden there. Something we can't quite perceive, but we know is there." He further Occluded and attempted to focus on the spot Luna was staring at, but he felt quite distracted as his eyes inevitably drifted away towards the dirtied stain-glass windows, the dirtied floors, even the filth-covered ceilings. Despite his hardest efforts to even maintain eye contact with that part of the sink, it was to no avail.
A sudden pop of apparition sounded throughout the room, causing all three to jump and whip their wands in the direction of the sound.
"AMY?!"
"In the flesh!" She politely thanked the elf who'd popped her in, smiling as the being bowed her head and popped away.
"Sweet Circe witch, you nearly gave us all a heart attack! What are you doing here?!"
"I asked Curly to drop me where you would be Harry. Ron Weasley and Jim Potter have gone missing, since last night I reckon." The Slytherins goggled at that news. "According to Percy Weasley Ron is possessed; he attacked his older brother and through some use of Polyjuice, posed as Percy to get the Twins expelled for the explosions of Greenhouse 3, the Hospital Wing, and, I imagine, Professor Snape's Potions Lab."
"Are…are you sure?" Amy nodded at Harry's question. If she was right, that meant that Lockhart hadn't been involved in anything he'd 'confessed to'. The realization was sobering, and the young Potter realized that whatever answers they sought, the real answers, would be found in this abandoned lavatory.
With some trepidation, Harry gave Amy a rundown of the situation at hand. He was impressed with how level-headedly she handled the news, wondering if she was Occlumens.
"So, I reckon the whole 'Chamber of Secrets' and 'Heir of Slytherin' business has something to do with this disused lavatory. Fitting, since like you said, most of the Petrifications happened here. Alright, so what have you got so far?" Harry gave her a brief synopsis of their theories, making sure to include Luna's heliopathic posits (though he was unable to use the 'H' word).
"So there's something hidden in one of the sinks? Hm…maybe it's the ent-?" She didn't get to finish her statement as Moaning Myrtle decided to make her presence known.
"STUDENTS! STUDENTS IN MY BATHROOM! WON'T YOU EVER LEAVE ME ALONE?!" The ghostly girl swooped down on them, screaming and crying incoherently. She flew through the four students as she threw a colossal tantrum, making them all shiver at the unnatural coldness of the sensation.
"Myrtle, please be calm. We're looking for something to help us-"
"Always looking for handouts, always disturbing me! No one cares about me and my feelings at all!" She began weeping in earnest, screaming over them anytime they attempted to ask about the strangeness over the sink. It took a few attempts to explain themselves, to ask about the sink, to ask anything, but Myrtle kept interrupting and weeping and screeching.
Suddenly, Harry felt the kaleidoscope of his mind slow and focus with a whir-click. Turning around rapidly he cast an additional slew of privacy charms at the lavatory's entrance, on top of the one's Bonnevie had already cast.
At that action, Myrtle finally stopped wailing. Her spectral eyes glinted, looking considerably craftier than any ghost Harry had seen (all five of them anyway). She drifted close to Harry until they were eye to eye.
"I presume, Harry Potter, that there's something you would like to ask me?"
"Indeed, Myrtle Warren. I'd like to ask you about the events surrounding the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir of Slytherin."
A brow quirked on the ghostly girl's face, and she looked…amused. Condescendingly so. "Indeed? And why on earth would I even know anything about any Chamber or Heir?"
Harry bit back a snarl, allowing his Occlumency to keep his face smooth and his voice level. He didn't have the time for petty back and forth. "Well, let's see. Tom isn't able to tell me. Neither can Sameer nor Cassie I imagine. Hagrid wasn't able to either, he ultimately had to leave." To Harry's satisfaction he saw the amusement slide of her face. "Eleos, Nobby, and Ursula can't tell anyone anything anymore." He stepped closer to the floating witch. "So, again, I'd like to ask you about the events surrounding the events of the Chamber and the Heir."
"And if I were to know anything about it, why on earth would I ever tell the likes of you?" She sneered in a very Slytherin-esque manner, enough to startle the room's occupants.
"Why would you tell the likes of me?!" Harry allowed a bit of his anger and frustration to bleed through. "You would tell the likes of me, because innocents have been felled by the Heir and his personal monster. You would tell the likes of me, because those innocents never asked to be unwitting pawns in whatever mad game this Heir is playing. You would tell the likes of me, because my brother - despite his enduring idiocy and superiority - has been bloody kidnapped by his possessed best friend. You would tell the likes of me, because the Headmaster, our best fighting chance to overcome this psychotic Heir has been petrified! You would tell the likes of me, because the bloody Dark Lord is trying to KILL US ALL!" Everyone jumped at that (Myrtle actually winced).
A few moments passed awkwardly before the ghost deflated, her bluish glow actually dulling a bit. "Do you know how the Heir of Slytherin came about the first time?"
Harry swallowed back the first five scathing responses that sprung on his tongue. "No Myrtle, we do not know. Are you willing to tell us?" With a despondent sigh, she told them.
Everything.
Her and Tom's introduction in their First Year Charms class, instantly clicking over their intellectual voraciousness despite their lingering distrust of the other's intent. "An orphan's nature, hard to shake." Though Myrtle had been luckier, having been adopted by a loving aunt and uncle at the age of six.
The constant hatred and disdain they faced from their Pureblood classmates for being muggleborns who dared to excel in the midst of unfounded bigotry regarding their blood status and abilities. "Olive Hornsby and Hecuba McClaggen were always so rude to me (Amy's eyes goggled at the mention of her beloved godmother), but oddly enough they liked Tom. Mostly everyone liked Tom. Except the Slytherins…they were brutal to him. Well…almost everyone, except Erasmus Wilkes." Amy choked at the mention of her hated father. "He was fascinated by Tom, regarded him as an incredibly rare specimen. Could say the same for Tom."
Her and Tom's friendship blossoming and strengthening in their Second Year, with Nobby Leach and Hagrid eventually joining the fold. "Everyone liked Nobby, hard not to really. He was muggleborn like us, didn't shy away from it either. You'd have thought he'd have an easier time of it in the stereotypically amiable House of Hufflepuff, but that was not the case. Rubeus, bless him, wasn't all too fond of most people, a consequence of his earlier childhood. Still, Tom had a bit of a Savior's Complex that made him quite protective of his friends, understandable considering he'd never been given the chance to be a friend before then."
Tom's discovery of the Chamber in his Third Year. "That…that did not go well." Myrtle actually shivered, rubbing her arms in an attempt to self-soothe as the awful memories resurfaced. "It was Halloween Night. Abraxas Malfoy…Boruslav Lestrange…Cygnus Black…Cantankerous Nott…" She shivered again. "They cornered him in the empty classroom next door to this one. They beat him viciously…said he wasn't even worth the magic it would take." She furiously rubbed the rolling tears from her face. "He was late to the Library, we were supposed to be helping Rubeus with Transfiguration homework. I was worried sick about him, he was never late. I overheard Walburga Black - psychotic little bitch - chatting it up with her friends. Not so subtly boasting about what those monsters planned to do. Rubeus and I ran all the way to him… he… he was practically dragging himself on the floor. Gosh all the blood. Rubeus carried him in here, we applied the best first aid that we knew but it wasn't helping, he'd lost too much blood! I was just about to emergency summon an elf to take us to the Infirmary when Eileen Prince ran in on us. She was the Sixth Year Slytherin Prefect, pretty nice to everyone in spite of blood status. She was horrified when we told her what happened. Had plenty of Healing Potions on her, used her entire stash to get Tom coherent again. We insisted he go to the Infirmary but Tom has a stubborn streak a mile wide, refusing to let the bigots know they'd won. He hobbled his way to the sink, struggled with the knobs for a bit before hissing at the sink. It opened up into the Chamber. Well, opened up the little maze to get to the Chamber."
"Did you know he was a Parselmouth before then?" asked Harry curiously. Myrtle tearfully smiled.
"Yes. I'd heard him whispering to snakes before, when we'd hang out by the pine trees next to the Black Lake. It was absolutely fascinating, I'd never known anyone who could speak to animals that way. Naturally I looked it up in the Library, discovered that only descendants of Salazar Slytherin could speak the language. Tom got a bit obsessed with his ancestry then, amazed that he was descended from an actual Founder of the school he'd come to call home. But then he abandoned his efforts when he discovered the truth about his mother and uncles. He was quite disgusted at what had become of them and all of House Gaunt, cementing in his mind that rabid pureblood bigotry would be nothing more than a means to a tragic and pitiful end." She shook her head in fond remembrance, the pride not hard to miss in her voice.
"So… what happened afterwards?" Myrtle turned in the direction of Miranda's quiet question.
"We discovered the Chamber in full, including Nagini."
"Whose Nagini?"
"A centuries-old basilisk. The Founder's legacy, the keeper of the Chamber and the guardian of Hogwarts whose power could only be commanded by the Heir of Slytherin. "
"Which was Tom Riddle, the actual, living breathing Heir of Slytherin." Myrtle nodded at Amy's statement.
"Anyway, once we discovered the Chamber, things got better. Tom practically bunked there, a much needed respite from being around his odious Housemates. He absolutely adored Nagini and she adored him in kind. She had so many stories to share about the Founder that no one had heard in centuries, disproved quite a bit of the persisting theory about the reclusive man." Harry filed that tidbit to ask about later.
Myrtle continued on with her story. Tom embracing his 'Heir' status with gusto for the remainder of his Third Year and beyond, using his endless charm to cultivate a network of talented muggleborns and muggle-raised friends and allies, running study groups that not only provided extensive intel on their non-Slytherin Housemates, but performed remarkably well, much to the chagrin of the Slytherin Purebloods who deemed themselves intellectually superior by consequence of heritage.
The mad plan he, Myrtle, and Nobby had cooked up to rally more support and damage the reputation of the bigots in Slytherin House. It was right after Christmas Break ended that the real trouble started. Nobby Leach was the first to be petrified. His body was found just outside the Greenhouses, with the words "THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED BY THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN! MUDBLOODS, BEWARE!" burnt into the nearby grass. Over the next two months, three other muggleborns (including Myrtle), were petrified, and all were found near graffiti that warned the rest of the Muggleborns to leave Hogwarts and never return. The graffiti combined with the rising fear and trepidation of the acts - credited to a very bigoted Slytherin - did a considerable lot to sully the reputation of the Serpents while rallying the Purebloods of the other three Houses around their own Muggle-born members. Nott, Malfoy, Lestrange, and Black actually found themselves as pariahs to the other Houses, and incurred actual punishments from the Prefects who were less and less fearful of them and their families' collective influence. Hecuba had even apologized to Myrtle!
But then disaster struck; Myrtle was found not just petrified but dead. "It was an accident! He was bringing out Nagini for just a bit, Juno Warbeck had agreed to be Petrified and he was getting things prepared. I…I was here in one of the stalls. I was so upset, Olive Hornsby had been horrible to me that day about Tom and…anywho, I heard a noise and just opened the door in a rage to tell whomever was there to just 'go away!' and then…I died. All I saw were great big yellow eyes and then… I was gone."
Tom hadn't taken it well. From what she'd been told by Nobby, Tom had almost suffered a nervous breakdown, lost himself to a psychic seizure (Harry flinched at that). Riddle would've lost himself to the roiling storm of his grief and self-loathing had Nobby not come in at the right moment to help ground him. "Tom's a natural Occlumens, has been since he could crawl I imagine. He got that much better once he learned about all the many…semi-legal ways he could strengthen his natural ability. Always kept him calm and collected, even in moments where he'd have been well within his right to lose himself to his wrath. Though it's rare, Occlumens can sometimes go overboard when self-soothing, burning through their own capacity for empathy because they become so overwhelmed with their emotions that they'd rather not ever feel that way. Thankfully Nobby found him when he did. He was a damn good Occlumens, Tom taught him personally, took to it like a weed. Thank Circe for that. Anyway, once I manifested, I made it my mission to make sure that Tom didn't blame himself for what happened, that he was not at fault. Took a while, a lot of tears and quite a bit of arguing, but eventually, he came around."
"So what happened after you died? I can't imagine the Headmaster and the staff, especially Dumbledore, would let that go unanswered." Myrtle winced at Harry's rather blunt question.
"Yes, that is very true. Once he got his wits together, Tom, Rubeus, and Nobby came up with a plan; Rubeus was friends with an acromantula named Aragog of all things. Taught him to read and even sing, testament of his prodigal skill with creatures I suppose. Anywho, they had Aragog pierce my body to make it look like snake bites, death by acromantula poisoning. Rubeus…Rubeus was impossibly brave to take responsibility for the creature. Dippet was furious, he always loathed poor Hagrid. But he liked Tom more. That…and the prestige of Sameer Kolumbiko's family." She grimaced.
"I take it you didn't like Sameer?"
Myrtle just frowned. "Quite frankly, no. He did nothing tangible to aid Tom when he truly needed it, only worming his way into Tom's graces once the Petrifications started. Tom didn't trust him at first either, sharing my sentiments. But… I imagine he proved himself when he concocted the scheme that ensured that Tom wouldn't get expelled. He and Tom agreed that a Fidelius would be the best, most impenetrable means of ensuring the Chamber and the Basilisk wouldn't be discovered. To Tom's chagrin they had to include Erasmus; according to Tom the Wilkes family was rather obsessed with their Slytherin ancestry, owned several rare books dedicated to the legend of the Chamber and the Heir. Both he and his family knew entirely too much to not be suspicious should their knowledge just disappear once the Fidelius became active. That's to say nothing of whatever failsafes that mad family put in place for such a scenario."
"Hang on a second there!" Amy's excited interjection brought everyone up short. "Are you telling me that me and my father are descended from Salazar bloody Slytherin?!"
"Yes," Harry responded. "I'm fascinated by wizarding genealogy, and thanks to my inquiries with the Goblins and all my personal research, I can confirm that you and your father are, in fact, descended from Salazar Slytherin. As a male descendant your father is an automatic speaker, but as a female, you're not. According to the Goblins it's some weird quirk. If you want to talk to snakes, you'll have to learn the old-fashioned way." Amy continued to look shocked.
"Now that you've told us everything Myrtle…are you… are you prepared to tell us the Secret?" The ghost leveled a mutinous stare in Harry's direction.
"I do recall saying I died the last time, did I not?"
"You did." Harry's tone was calm and level. "But as you yourself said, you were fully aware and fully consenting to being Petrified. Nagini was under the control of your best friend, someone who would never willingly harm you. But Myrtle, whomever is doing this is no friend to any of us. None of the basilisk's victims consented to their petrifications. They've taken out the school leadership and left us all as sitting ducks. My brother and his best friend have been absconded to the Chamber, the former the unwitting kidnap victim of the possessed latter. If…if the Dark Lord is behind this scheme, then he will not stop until we all perish. Please Myrtle, please tell us. We're here and willing to help stop this monster.
"Are you certain Harry Potter? Truly certain?" Her soft voice held a certain gravity that caused chills to race down the boy's back. "Because if you venture down there you shall tread in a place where there is no mercy." A second ticked by, before Harry replied that he was very certain.
With deliberate slowness Myrtle floated close to his ear and whispered the Secret: "The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, the once-Sanctuary of the Heir of Slytherin Tom Riddle and the Lair of the Unknown Great Basilisk Nagini, lies behind the center sink in the abandoned second floor girls' lavatory." And just like that, Harry could finally see the sink in question, focus on it in full and complete detail. Even more important was that the logical connections he'd failed to make anytime he'd inquired or ruminated or the topic of the Heir of Slytherin and Chamber of Secret became so readily apparent that Harry could have slapped himself at how obvious it was. 'Damn mind-altering magicks.' Unseen to him Myrtle whispered the Secret into the ears of Amy, Miranda, and Luna. The latter was especially pleased that the cobweb of wrackspurts that clouded the sink faded into the background, as though they were a picture out of focus.
"Right!" Harry clapped his hands very loudly to get the room's attention. "So, here's the plan. Since there are neither Professors nor aurors at our immediate disposal to rely on, we'll have to continue to rely upon ourselves. The Slytherin in me is rebelling at the mere thought of this, but the more time Ron and Jim spend down there, the worse off both will be. I don't care for either in any capacity, but…but I am neither ready nor willing to have either or both of them die because I chose to be idle." Luna looked oddly proud at that statement. "So while you three go back to your respective Common Rooms and wait for the aurors, I'll venture down and-"
"I don't bloody think so!" Amy looked outraged, an expression mirrored on Luna and Miranda's faces.
"Have you lost the plot?!" Miranda looked distinctly horrified. "We're not letting you go down Merlin-knows-where to face off against a bloody basilisk! Blimey Harry, it's under the Dark Lord's control and he won't hesitate to use it to kill you!"
"Exactly! You're not going anywhere without us, so you can simply forget about that nonsensical solo-hero fantasy you just had." Luna glared at Harry, startling the boy who'd never seen such an un-Luna expression directed at him. He studied each witch for a few moments before sighing in defeat.
"Well then ladies. Time to party on!"
AN 1: A long one, but a good expository read nonetheless.
AN 2: A ghost as a Secret Keeper, fairly unsuspecting and rather clever means of utilizing a Fidelius. My theory is that since ghosts have enough sentience to manifest and enough autonomy to move about within reason, they have just enough humanity & magic to satisfy the Fidelius' requirements. Hogwarts is also a millennia-old castle teeming with magic, so a Hogwarts ghost would be that much stronger.
AN 3: I love little Amy Wilkes, she's quite the firecracker. And quite fitting for Gryffindor in spite of her Slytherin heritage.