As March turned to April and April to May, the mood in the castle shifted. — Not to a deep brooding fear. — But a slight shift towards the type of anxiety that only end of year tests can cause. One day, the student body was treated to a delightful morning of the headmistress publicly dressing down Lockhart for his first draft of final exam questions as public embarrassment was the best way to get Lockhart to do as he should. The fame driven ponce couldn't stand being publicly ridiculed.
Professor Chambers, on the other hand, had handed out an improved study guide that gave out what dates and events each class should focus on for the tests.
Molly Weasley while wholly improving her techniques was still following McGonagall's prior syllabus, Harry and Hermione were assuming that she would only be tweaking what she had been, namely the objects targeted for change to make the transformation more "homely" and "everyday". Hermione at least agreed that transfiguring a pin cushion to a clay pot provides the same cross materials to switch a tortoise to a teapot. Turning a pebble into a coat button provides much the same visualization practice as a snail.
Snape, who had been very different since he appeared at his hearing at the ministry, had approached Harry and Hermione with completely separate study material.
"The headmistress has seen fit to acknowledge both of your prowess in Potions and has agreed to let you sit an advanced Potions test. This potion is not normally brewed until late into your third year. Study these books and learn the theory of the potion and the ingredients. It will be your final this year." He then stormed off. Ron was looking like they both had kicked his dog.
"Why do you get a different test? What have you all done that I haven't this year."
"I don't know, Weasley, maybe achieve an average grade above the single digits." Draco Malfoy interjected, holding up his own packet.
"Why do-" started Harry before he was interrupted by the potions master.
"Be polite Draco, it is below you to boast. Five points from Slytherin.
He is rude and wrong, Weasley, but not totally. There are five students in your year who are at least capable of this advanced test. You who can barely pot a usable potion and not burnt sludge like Longbottom are not one." Snape said.
"Well it's not fair. No one helps me in-" Ron started to whine, but the greasy haired potioneer cut him off again.
"You hang around two of the most capable students to enter this classroom in the last seventeen years, yet you can barely brew tea! You are as intelligent as your brothers, Weasley, utilize your resources or shut up! I would focus on studying and passing my tests if I were you; don't think I'm unaware of what will happen if you don't do better on these tests than you did last year." That finally stopped Ron's arguing.
Over the next few weeks, people saw a marked improvement in Rons' study and work habits. Not that anyone, even Harry and Hermione, believed these would be a long-term commitment to change. Everyone remembered when Bill dressed Ron down, and that further only lasted 2 months. But anyway, that Ron didn't act like doing homework was equivalent to wearing thumb screws, Hermione and Harry counted as a win.
With the end of term nearing, now in May, everyone was firmly in anxiety ridden study mode. All classes turned to review. All homework was either updated or more detailed versions of previous assignments. Harry had started to ignore the letters he received and had even told his Mesoamerican penpal that he would be focusing on reviewing and would write to him at a later date. The only letters he didn't outright ignore were his Gringotts letters and that was merely because only an idiot would ignore correspondence from the goblins.
Even through the monotonous slog of review and revising, Harry took notice of those around him that worried him; Ginny was surprisingly chipper. She was enjoying her time at Hogwarts and spending time with her friends that she had finally made. Luna, though, had him worried. He didn't know her well, and from what he knew of her from others, she was a strange girl at the best of times, but these were not the best of times. He didn't see her often as they didn't have classes together being a year apart, and he had no classes near the girl as the Ravenclaws had opposite schedules to Gryffindor. What Harry did see of the first year raven though had him immensely worried. She was so pale her skin was almost translucent. The red invaded her irises and brightened to such a vivid scarlett they were almost iridescent. Even more worrying, she stopped responding to him in her airy, far away voice she normally adopted but instead gave short and cold answers in a near monotone voice.
When he brought his fears up to the headmistress, when he saw her strolling through the hallway, she waved him off.
"The poor girl had a very traumatic experience, Mister Potter, Madam Pomfrey gives her regular checkups and ensures everything is fine with Ms Lovegood. I appreciate you looking out for her, but I have been assured by a healer that her current situation is stressful." The headmistress said.
Yet that didn't sit right with Harry — who took the time to follow the girl when she didn't know he was there and check up on her when she did. Although nothing ever came up with it, Harry's instincts were still screaming at him that something was wrong.
Another development came in the form of a parchment that Fred and George stole from Filch. Harry hadn't had much time to search and thus couldn't find anything in his fathers belongings, but the twins did manage to find out something the parchment did. If you used magic to try and unlock the parchment secrets, four very interesting characters would erupt from the depths of the parchment and hurl insults at the caster. Whichever of his fathers friends "Messer Prongs" was, had a very odd sense of humor.
"Messer Prongs applauds your ingenuity but encourages you both to get your freckled arses out of other people's business."
It would seem the parchment will continue to be a mystery for quite some time. The only other marauder that Harry knew the name of was Sirius Black and he was beyond reach in rehab.
It was the twenty ninth of May and Harry was preparing for the final quidditch match of the year. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, this would be the match where Harry would finally complete his petty scheme and thoroughly embarrass Draco off the pitch. Not that it'll be easy — for several weeks now, Harry had been avoiding pushes and feet trying to trip him in the hallways and dodging poorly aimed spells — and now he'll have to contend with Malfoy's faster broom.
Harry stood across the pitch giving Malfoy his best intimidating glare, when the headmistress came bustling onto the field holding a massive megaphone.
"All students! Please return to your house dormitories! All students please return to your dormitories! Mister Potter, you had better come with me."
Ron ran up just then eyes wide with fear. "What's going on professor?" He asked.
"Yes, yes Mister Weasley you had best come as well."
They hurriedly marched through the halls of Hogwarts but instead of going to the head office they went to the chamber of the Great Hall. Inside, sitting on the available couches, was a teary eyed man with white blonde hair. And an absolutely distraught Daniel and Emma Granger.
The headmistress conjured another two seat couch. "You boys best sit for this. I'm sorry to say that Miss Granger has been taken, taken by the Heir of Slytherin back into the chamber."
"What?" asked Ron. "But he's gone, Harry destroyed him, you said so."
"So I did, we are unsure as to how the spirit managed to avoid detection for so long. But it is true; the heir left another note right next to where the first one was. "Their skeletons shall lie in the chamber forever." There is now a barrier in place blocking all access to Myrtle Warren's bathroom. We have a team of curse breakers on their way to co-" but Harry barging out of the room cut her off and to her astonishment a barrier popped into being with a cold hiss from Harry, preventing anyone from following him.
As Harry sprinted through the hallway towards the chamber he encountered two people he did not anticipate being there. William Chambers and Gilderoy Lockhart.
"If only we could get in there! This kind of thing would be perfect for my next book, exactly what I was looking for as an ending." The defense teacher said.
"Yea? And how in tarnation do you suspect we can get down there with that bubble blocking the way?" But the two had noticed Harry now; not that he had stopped, an angry hiss ripping from his mouth, the shield was dispersed and Harry charged through the door without even breaking stride. He didn't notice as the two teachers scrambled after him into the bathroom nor did he see them follow him as he dived into the waiting hole and slid down. He did notice however when Lockhart's heavy weight caused the man to over take Harry on the final stretch of the slide causing them both to shoot off the slide and roll over each other ending with a crunch. Harry rolled to his feet and accosted the two men standing before him.
"What do you think you're doing! You're slowing me down. I have to get there. I have to save her. To save them. We don't have time for another parselmouth to get here!"
"Harry, calm it down some. We ain't here to stop you. I figured you'd dive down here as soon as Ole Minny told you. We're here to help son, not hender ya" explained the American.
"Yes Harry, do lead on, won't you? I can see another barrier at the causeway entrance." said Lockhart.
And with that Harry and the two professors set off at a run. Down the long tunnel to the open serpent door. Harry tried the previously easy opening phrase, but it didn't work. So Harry, knowing he had to think, sank to his knees and took several deep calming breaths while recalling the few lessons he'd had with Mister Chamalli.
Parseltongue was a magical language. Each syllable dripped magic. Each word could be infused with intent and will. Each phrase has the potential to do great good or ill. Parselmagic as a whole is susceptible to power, intent, and will. If you lack intent and will and you only focus on power, your magic will be easily subverted like a tall stack of blocks, steady at first glance but easily toppled. It was good that Harry was not lacking in power nor intent, nor was he short on willpower. Right now Harry was intent and will incarnate. And his full magical might is on reserve for the task of saving his best friend. His best friend, that sat trapped beyond this glittering black serpent's eye shield. So sure of what he must do Harry reached within himself to the place in his mind where his ability to speak one of the true languages of the world lay and he began to hiss in a forceful sibilant voice.
"I, Harry James Potter, Lord Potter and inheritor of the will of Gryffindor and the usurper of the line of Slytherin, the true master of this hall and this language demand that these barriers all dispel and leave my way clear" and with the silence that came after Harry's hisses finally stopped the pure black bubble shield popped, revealing the causeway and a small form with white blonde hair in the middle of the room.
"Luna!" Harry ran forward to the girl laying on the ground. She was naked and a very familiar rune circle was carved into her skin, the runes glowing and sizzling with the force of the magic rolling through it. "Luna! No, what do I do, Prof-" Harry looked for the professors but the other half of the chamber was blocked off by another parsel magic shield just immensely bigger now. "Oh Luna, I got here as soon as possible please wake up I-"
"She won't wake, Harry Potter." Said a bored sounding sarcastic drawl to his right. When Harry looked he saw a boy a little older than Harry was, maybe 16. The black inky vapor slowly coalescing into human skin left Harry with zero doubt that he was finally speaking to Tom Riddle. Face to face.
"This is the meeting I have been trying to arrange all year long. Who knew all I had to do was to kidnap that buck tooth rat I carried in here." Tom Riddle said coolly, smirking. Harry looked around frantically.
"Hermione! Where is she? If you've hurt her I swear I'll-."
"Kill me? I don't think so, your mudblood is in Slytherin's old library, trussed up and waiting for me to come back in a more…..physically able form."
"You won't touch a hair on her head!" Yelled Harry going for his wand but discovering his pocket was empty. He turned to see Tom Riddle tossing his wand up into the air. He looked back at Luna. The girl was totally catatonic and growing paler by the second, just as Tom seemed to grow more solid.
"You said you had been trying to arrange this meeting all year. Why?"
"Why? He asks." Tim Riddle laughed a cold dead laugh with no mirth in his voice. "There are many strange likenesses between you and me, Harry, both orphans, raised by abusive muggles, both of our lives meddled with by that bothersome fool Dumbledore.
I'm sure a bright young man, as you are, already knows who I am? My legacy? Your ministry worked it out when they found my diary." At this he gestures to a small black book laying near Luna.
"How? That was confiscated by the DMLE!"
"You don't know much about dark magic do you, Harry?
Of course you don't, how could you, having grown up in the muggle world. There are some pieces of dark magic that can't be destroyed. I was able to link a part of myself to my diary and through this link that diary became a part of me. When this piece of magic is cast it allows the container to become essentially impervious to damage. It can grow back, recover, and repair itself from all damage done to it. Only it recovers from whatever piece of the container is nearest to the connection, in this case nearest to me. Say from a piece of paper given to a dear friend the night before you knew you would be found out. I've been with young Luna for a while now."
"But how, I destroyed you, I stopped you during the ritual." Blustered Harry
"That HURT. I must commend you on that, it is hard to cause pain to a s- to a memory. Even a living one like me." said the inky shade of Tom Riddle who looked almost fully human now aside from the thin blotchy outline like a poorly drawn cartoon. "But it didn't matter, I was strong enough at that point, strong enough to leave my still partially destroyed diary and to hide. Don't you know that old muggle saying, Harry? "The eyes are the windows to the soul" and so that is where I hid. In her eyes; the lack of dark magic placated the fools who claim to have knowledge of the dark arts. But I am far more clever than any wizard, did you know that Potter? That the eyes have an entirely separate immune system. That if the eyes were discovered by the body's regular antibodies, that they would eat your own eyeballs out of your skull. That being the case, diagnostic charms are built to scan the body from the information passed by and for the immune system, But wizards are unaware that they do not affect the eyes. It's why there are so many wizards with glasses when everything we know tells us magic should heal our eyes. But it doesn't."
"What do you want from me?" Harry said, getting angry.
"From you? Answers, Harry. I want answers. I was going to rip them from the mind of that know-it-all friend of yours while I had my fun eviscerating her. I wasn't entirely certain you would or could come for her — but you did and now I can get answers directly from you. Like how a small boy with no amazing magical talent managed to take me down at my prime. Knowledge so that I can leave this room and become the true ruler of wizarding Britain and be assured that no fluke, no Harry Potter will ever come again and send me to a disembodied exile."
"Well I have news for you, no one knows what happened that night when you came after me, not even I do. But I can tell you, you're weak, you're ugly, you're foul. I saw you last year when you tried to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I stopped you then and I'll find a way to stop you now." And with that Harry took off in a zigzag pattern. Riddle used Harry's wand to hurl spells at him. On and on he ran and hid and died and ducked and dodged untill a particularly well placed blasting curse threw razor sharp shards of rock flying and sent Harry flipping through the air to land on his back.
'The stone of the chamber must have been flint' Harry noted, recognizing the sharp jagged edges that reminded him of a caveman spear he saw in his history class in primary school. Harry lay there, breathing heavily and in pain, something in his leg was hurt badly. He looked at a sharp rock in front of him bigger than his hand. His vision found its way to the pale bleeding form of Luna and the rune circle, searing her life away. And then Tom Riddle walked slowly towards Harry and a plan suddenly clicked into place.
As quickly as Harry could he scooped at the flint blade and ran as fast as his injured leg would carry him across the 20 or so yards that separated him and Luna, dodging Tom's spells the entire time. When he got to a certain distance Harry launched himself in the air and brought the razor sharp stone down across the alabaster skin of his friend and across the runic array, cleaving a deep channel in the girl's already ruined skin. "Yes!"
"No!, I was so close! How many times do I have to do this ritual before I can have a body? Now you've doomed your buck-toothed mudblood to an even worse fate. I was just going to ruin her over your corpse to celebrate my return. But now I'll have to leach her life force like I've done with all the other no-name plebeians."
"Oh no, you won't, Tom Riddle." And Harry started to swing the flint knife at the specter only he wasn't so spectral anymore and with a quick tug a thick stream of black liquid spilled from the 2 foot gash bisecting Tom Riddle's chest and even opening a place where his inky black inwards started to vaporize in the air.
A quick banishing hex sent Harry flying further back, away from the ghostly teen. But Harry, adrenaline now pumping, jumped straight to his feet and took a running jump using the rubble of a fallen snake statue as a springboard clutching the sharp rock in one bleeding hand and his other hand extended his balance. When his world slowed down, time seemed to crawl. In front of him materializing from the very air was a glimmering silver sword that he clutched with his open hand. When his hand closed around the hill of the sword, time once again returned to normal and as one he brought down the sparkling blade and the flint knife. Tom Riddle sent a blasting curse at the flint knife which exploded into fragments cutting Harry's hand to shreds along with his face. But the silver sword came down and cleaved the teen in two from left shoulder to right hip. Harry landed on the ground and his legs buckled, knee exploding in pain and the would-be Dark Lord collapsed in a heap; only the arm that was still attached raised Harry's wand.
"You can not defeat me Potter, I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest sorcerer in the world, even when I was in school I had the most powerful in our society eating out of my hands!" Before he silently cast a red spell at Harry whose only defense and only instinct was to wrap his bleeding hand around the tip of the blade and use the body of the sword to try to block the spell. Amazingly, the spell was absorbed by the blade. This seemed to shock Tom Riddle as much as it did Harry. Then Harry looked between Tom Riddle and the book that Harry could see was also spewing ink across the floor in a pattern similar to Tom's injury and Harry running on pure instinct stabbed the diary once, twice, three times the last time making it from cover to cover.
It took a minute but Tom Riddle started thrashing in pain and beams of light bifurcated his body. Harry looked at the sorrowful excuse for a teenager. "Tom, I don't know who the greatest sorcerer in the world is, but it's not you." And with that the future Dark Lord lost all form and turned into a black inky mass that then dissolved, leaving only a dark stain on the stone. The barrier fell a few seconds later as Harry lay still catching his breath. And the two professors rushed in clutching their wands. Seeing that there was no danger, Chambers lowered his wand but Harry wasn't fast enough to warn him.
"Expelliarmus!" Called out Lockhart. And then he wordlessly summoned Harry's and chambers wands pocketing them both.
"What in the Sam Hill are you doing, Lockhart?" Asked the Texan wizard.
"Don't you see how perfect it is? I, the gallant hero, arrive just in time to save your lifes from the horror of the Heir of Slytherin. But not before you both lost your minds at the tragic end of Miss Lovegood. Perfect story to take credit for" Explained Lockhart pointing his wand at them both in turn.
"What are you talking about? Taking credit? After everything you did in your books?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Oh do use your head dear boy, my books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I had done all those things." Remarked the Defense professor.
"So you're trying to take credit for this fight and erase our memories. Did you do anything you wrote about in those books of yours?" Asked Chambers who was slowly inching his arms down instead of up in surrender.
"Of course NOT! But if I'm not THE hero I'de never sell another book! Some of the people that I wrote about? They'd be dreadful on a front cover. The witch who banished the bandon banshee had a hair lip for Merlin's sake. No, it's best I take the story from here, lads say goodbye to your memories.
OBLIVIATE!" There was a swishing and a deafening bang. And a limp thump onto the ground that Harry was all too familiar with nowadays.
"You can look, Harry, he ain't gonna hurt nobody anymore." Harry looked up and saw Chambers holding something, not a wand but a shiny silver gun with a smoking barrel. He looked forward and saw Lockhart on the ground staring straight up. Only he was still breathing. He had fainted when Chambers shot his wand.
"Come on, up you get Lockhart, I shot your wand not you, ya iggit." Chambers made his way over to Luna and conjured a blanket to cover her modesty and then pulled out three green bottles and poured one down the girl's throat.
"Harry, you stay here and look after Luna and this idiot. I'll be back in a jiffy with some help. In another two or so minutes if I ain't back yet make sure the little lady drinks another Wiggenweld." As Chambers ran by he kicked Lockhart.
"Ow!" Said Lockhart springing up rubbing his head. "Where? Where am I? What is this place?"
"Errrrr professor don't you remember? This is Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts? What a funny name. What's your name?...What's my name? Where am I?"
"Yea it's a funny name, my name's Harry, your name is professor Lockhart. And you're at Hogwarts like I just said" Harry said, getting more bewildered by the second.
"Ahh! Funny name that. A professor? Really? Am I? Hopeless I suspect" questioned the amnesiac professor.
"Err yea a bit at first but you were alright once you got some help." Harry said.
"Ahh. Who are you again?" Lockhart said hopefully. They sat there for about five minutes until they heard a thundering pounding of various feet racing down to the chamber. What followed was several minutes of scans, questions and watching as first Luna then Lockhart and then Hermione who was bound in the library but otherwise unharmed, were taken to the hospital wing. It felt like forever before he was allowed to follow but in actuality it was probably less then a minute.
Harry was diagnosed with another concussion, a displaced kneecap, a fractured hip and pelvis, broken ankle, his hand was all but a lost cause. Pomfrey took dittany soaked gauze and wrapped his hand like a world champion boxer heedless to his screams of pain or his pleading that it was too tight. He was also suffering from a minor laceration to his jugular and about 300 minor cuts and wounds and she even had to summon 75 pieces of shrapnel. He would be drinkinging healing and nutrient potions every hour on the hour for the next 3 days.
Hermione had been relatively unharmed but was pulled out of school for the week so her mother could spend some time with her daughter after such an ordeal. Harry didn't tell them what Tom Riddle intended for her other than to question her about Harry.
Lockhart had one hundred percent of his memories erased and his short term memory destroyed. Luna however would not wake up, no matter what ministrations was spent on her for the next 3 days and was released to St Mungo's to get more and better treatment.
Harry was released on Wednesday morning, 4 days after defeating Tom Riddle. Which Smara was thankful for, she had been keeping him company while Hermione was out of the castle; a quick note from his best friend that morning told him that she would be back on Friday.
"Now off you get, young man. The headmistress has called an assembly for breakfast." the matron told him after she made sure he completed his last doses. His arm was still wrapped in bandages and his snake companion wrapped around his shoulders. So Harry meandered his way to the great hall and found his seat next to Ron who was inhaling his food as usual. At least Ron learned that lesson as the only greeting Harry got was a head nod before the young redhead returned to eating. Harry had to physically restrain himself from making Hermione's plate for her. It caused him such a disturbance that he was still fumbling when Daphne sat next to him, Smara immediately sliding over to the shoulders of her favorite Slytherin.
"Hello Harry, you looked lost. I know you normally make Hermione's plate at breakfast as she brags about it when we study together. So how about you try to throw my favorite meal together?" Daphne said in a teasing voice.
"I- I've never watched you eat?" Harry said somewhat stunned by Daphne's uncharacteristic behavior. Even after 4 days Harry was still suffering from shock and trauma. It was forcing his brain into completing its everyday routine as a defense mechanism and it made processing Daphne's behavior difficult.
"Well you can at least try? Hmm?" Daphne teased with a smile.
"Right, errrr" Harry said looking at Daphne and then the food on display. Before putting three pieces of bacon, a French omelet, and 3 pieces of toast with black currant preserves. And then handing her the plate.
"And what made you pick these choices." Daphne asked after taking the plate.
"Well the bacon and eggs is a traditional breakfast, but you're a noble family which means you have French Influence so I chose an omelet over scrambled eggs. And the jam and toast because Astoria told me that you were a jam addict." Harry explained hesitantly.
" Those are very astoot, sound and well reasoned observations. However my preference is strawberry jam on toast for breakfast. I find anything else upsets my stomach. Now relax Harry, we're all good now, thanks to you. I could see that thousand yard stare as you came into the hall. And Hermione would be very cross with me if I didn't cheer you up. Have a good day, Potter." As she took her plate back over to the Slytherin table.
A short time later after everyone had eaten the headmistress stood up and addressed the gathered students. Harry found it hard to turn his attention away from his picked at breakfast. He hadn't slept well in 4 days, each night permeated with nightmares, flashbacks and screams.
"Good morning students, given the fact that what happened the other day is a total secret, I assume that all of you know enough for me to avoid a summary. The board of governors, the heads of houses, and myself have been in debate since then and we have finally decided on the appropriate consequences for those involved.
In the case of Miss Lovegood no punishment will be given as she could not control her actions.
Mister Lockhart has been fired, all remaining classes leading to testing will be overseen by his ministerial overseer proctor Gambal.
Professor Chambers has been given a raise for his defense of three students.
And finally Harry Potter, what to do with you has been a matter of great contention. First I'm going to take three hundred house points for various violations. And then it has been decided that we will receive one hundred points for discovering the chamber of secrets, one hundred points for saving and befriending a creature older this school, one hundred points for your part in saving students and ending the first ritual and finally one hundred points for saving your friends at great personal risk and embodying what a true gryffindor is. You will also be awarded the Gold Shield in recognition for you performing 3 seperate special services to the school, saving students, removing danger to the school twice. And donating so much money and equipment to improve the experience of every student in the school.
I was going to wait until the leaving feast to make these announcements but recent events have brought up the necessity to bump things up.
We have several students out in recovery, all will be back by the start of testing, Ravenclaw especially should be glad to hear Miss Lovegood is finally awake and responding well to treatment and is expected to make a full and unmarked recovery." Many at the ravenclaw table looked around horribly awkwardly.
"Finally all tests will start on time as scheduled.
That is all, may you all have a wonderful day.
Mister Potter, if I may have a word with you in my office in one hour's time?" the headmistress called out.
Harry sat in the head office. Almost every available surface was covered in portraits of previous headmasters. The walls were covered in bookshelves, the tables filled with centuries of collected niknaks, some of which seemed to serve some function or another as they would occasionally change color, shape, form, or emit some light or smoke or vapor. The head's desk was made of a deep red wood and was neatly organized, much as Harry had expected from the austere woman sitting behind it. Harry could see the warming plate that McGonagall had mentioned all those months ago when they first entered Slytherin's library. In front of the warming plate was a tin of ginger newts, a popular flavor of biscuit in Wizarding Britain not unlike a ginger snap in the muggle world but with an aftertaste Harry had neither been able to identify nor get past on the few occasions he had tried them. They tasted too sharp and left a bitter note in his mouth after the sugar faded.
"Have a biscuit Potter, you barely ate" Harry was about to respond when she cut him off. "I was watching Mister Potter now have a biscuit."
"It's not that ma'am, it's just I don't care for ginger newts much, magical baking in general seems to use odd ingredients that I can't get around." Harry said calmly.
"Ahh, I suppose they can be a bit sharp for people raised on the sugar filled treats of the muggle world. We tend to use honey instead of cane sugar. Although ginger newts are made with sorghum syrup it's a unique flavor that takes getting used to.
Now to business Harry, I noticed that you have taken longer to recover from this fight. You are a most resilient person, Mister Potter but I realize that even the strongest person has a limit to what they can endure and you have had a very busy year. So I must ask if there is anything you'd like to tell me?" McGonagall asked, looking very sympathetic.
Harry looked deep into the eyes of the headmistress as he thought of his answer. Andromeda and Tonks told him to talk to people when he was feeling lost and he had to fight all his instincts to not say that he was fine. "It's- it's several things professor, I'm worried for Hermione, her parents will be furious with me, I think, because she was targeted to get to me. On Top of that Tom Riddle from the diary said something and I can't get it out of my head. Because I think he was right."
"And what did Tom say to you Harry?" Asked McGonagall.
"That we were alike, strange likenesses he said." responded Harry in a despondent voice.
"I see… Harry? Do you know how old I am? No? Well I was born or so I'm told on a brisk October morning in 1929, I went to Hogwarts with Tom Riddle. He was a few years above me and in Slytherin of course. I knew him rather well if by nothing but reputation. Even back then house rivalry got in the way of inter house friendships. Tom Riddle was a model student, smart, powerful, and best of all eager to learn and prove himself. He most definitely displayed many attributes that you as well shine with, including a certain disregard for rules if I may say so. But where you are smart and kind. Strong and brave. Tom Riddle was intelligent, cold, calculated, and above all cruel and manipulative.
He had the staff eating out of his hand by his third year. Young Tom Riddle was smart and capable. So poor yet so brave. It was he that turned in Hagrid for the death of Myrtle Warren. Not that anyone actually believed that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin.
So yes Harry, while you hold a certain similarity to Tom Riddle. You hold vastly more differences than him."
"The hat" Harry said pointing at the Sorting Hat sitting high up on a shelf. "Said I would have done well in Slytherin."
"You would have done well in Slytherin Harry because you are naturally smart and cunning, not because you are evil. If you want proof that you were sorted correctly I would suggest you take a closer look at this sword you found." She gestured to the glittering sword that sat on the mantle above her fireplace. It was glittering silver. With 2 egg sized rubies set into the cross guard and a third on the pommel. Inscribed on the length of the cross guard was the name "GRYFFINDOR."
"Only a true gryffindor can summon that sword and call it to them in their hour of greatest need. It hasn't moved from this office in eight centuries. Until it was called by you in defense of the school. Not yourself, not any small petty reason. The sword came to you because you wanted to defend the school and all its inhabitants,and that is something Tom Riddle could never do, not even when he was named head boy. Or at the hight of his powers to willfully throw yourself into danger despite all odds. You are the Heir of Gryffindor, Harry, not Slytherin's.
"Professor? How did I destroy that book? Tom Riddle who came out of it said that he's made the book pretty much invincible." Asked Harry.
"Ahh, yes, I've been thinking of that. Do you know what this is Harry? This is goblin silver. It dispels dirt and dust and takes in only that which strengthens it. If I'm not mistaken Smara's venom runs through your veins and thus it is in your blood. When you grabbed the blade and cut your hand, I suspect that the sword absorbed your blood. Or the venom it contained. Not many things on this earth can survive contact with basilisk venom, Harry. You are immune to it because of your bond with Smara.
Now go Potter, you'll be off classes until Monday and if I'm reading the wards correctly you'll have a chance to clear up any bad feelings with Miss Granger's parents very soon, as they've just crossed the ward line."
Harry rushed from her room a wide grin plastered on his face.