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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 58: Heir of Slytherin and Gryffindor
🕑 Added 2024-11-30 17:01:01 +0000 UTCChapter 58: Heir of Slytherin and Gryffindor
Harry POV
“Wooo!” Ron exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “Finally! It’s over!”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Hermione said with a shake of her head, though she had a smile on her face all the same.
“I’m also glad our finals are over,” Susan said, leaning back in her chair with a groan.
“You can say that again,” Padma Patil commented, sitting next to her twin sister. Murmurs of assent came from the rest of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs sitting nearby, while Hermione and the Ravenclaws rolled their eyes at the antics of the less academically inclined.
The friend group’s study session had grown explosively in the last few weeks as the end of year tests grew closer. All of the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw Second Years had been studying together for the finals that year, with First and Third years popping in every so often. Collin Creevy, Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood being the most common students to join the group from the lower years.
Sure, some of the classes were less than impressive, such as history with Binns and Lockhearts Defense lessons. But regardless of how terrible they were, Harry was satisfied with how well he had done. Not even Snape’s sourness could bring the mood down now!
Tomorrow, it would be time for the students of Hogwarts to return to their homes for Summer break. It had been a wild year, and things looked good. Ed had written to him that after his mandatory two weeks with the Dursleys to recharge his Blood Wards, they would be heading across the pond to America. New Orleans, to be precise. He was looking forward to it!
Harry was also glad there hadn’t been any more attacks since Percy and Penelope after Christmas Break. After freeing the victims of the earlier incidents from the petrification and telling the school what was responsible, the Heir of Slytherin had gone into hiding, not daring to make so much as a peep.
Not to say that there weren’t unusual occurrences happening throughout Hogwarts. Mysterious noises, like hissing and slithering, had been heard by prefects at night. Spiders fleeing the castle en mass, to the point that nobody had seen one in months. The ghosts reported a terrible sense of dread clinging to the walls in some places as well. And Peeves? Even the poltergeist had become withdrawn and hadn’t been seen in weeks, apparently even more afraid of the Basilisk than he was willing to pull pranks.
Yet the heir seemed to have given up on murder via giant snake, and since nobody had died or gotten hurt, people were thinking the worst had come to pass. Maybe Basilisk would go to sleep again for another fifty-ish years like the last time, too!
Harry wasn’t so sure. This felt too much like the calm before the storm. ‘Maybe I’m a Seer too, like Ed,’ the Boy-Who-Lived thought to himself in dark amusement.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a panicked blonde wearing a robe with green highlights rushed into the library, homing in on the table where Harry and his friends were sitting and all but tackling the bespectacled boy.
“Harry! Please! You have to help me!” Daphne begged, grabbing onto the front of Harry’s robes, her expression wild and fearful.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. Behind her, Tracy Davis jogged up to her friend, panting heavily.
“My sister! It’s Astoria!” Daphne sobbed. “She’s gone!”
“Huh?” Harry uttered, confused. He wasn’t the only one. The students in the library were all bewildered by the crying Slytherin.
“It was the Chamber of Secrets!” Tracy exclaimed. “It was opened, and Astoria was taken into it!”
That caused an uproar. The only reason Madam Pince didn’t swoop down on them was thanks to the Muffling charms Hermione and a few others had cast around the area as soon as Daphne and Tracy had appeared.
“It was on the walls of the Slytherin common room,” Tracy said when the noise settled a bit, Daphne too overwhelmed to explain. “It said Astoria was going to die down there!”
“Please, help me!” Daphne begged, clinging to Harry.
Almost as a reflex he nodded. “Alright, I’ll help,” he promised.
“We’ll all help!” Sally-Anne declared.
“But how can we find Astoria and the Chamber of Secrets?” Hermione wondered. “The latter has been missing for centuries!”
“Mrytle!” Neville suddenly said aloud, and everyone turned to him in bewilderment.
“What about her?” Su Li, a Ravenclaw, asked.
“I think… I think Mrytle might know where the Chamber of Secrets is!” the pudgy boy exclaimed.
“How?” Daphne demanded.
“During Mr. Nicholas’ Deathday, she told me that the last thing she saw in life before becoming a ghost was a pair of large, yellow eyes,” Neville said slowly. “She was also the final victim of the attacks when the Chamber was opened fifty-odd years ago, and the only one who died.”
“She died in the bathroom,” Lavender pointed out, reminding the other students of this fact.
“Wait, are you suggesting that the Chamber of Secrets is in a girl’s washroom?” Tracy asked, nose scrunching up.
“No… not the bathroom itself… in the pipes!” Susan exclaimed. “That’s how the Basilisk has been getting around without anybody noticing! I mean, a huge snake is kinda hard to miss, right?”
“When I first heard it, the hissing was coming from the walls,” Harry muttered. “And the first victim, Ms. Norris, was right outside the second-floor bathroom!”
“There must be a spell or something on pipes to let them change shape and size to allow the Basilisk to move through them,” Justin suggested, and everyone started to discuss the possibilities of this. Most seemed skeptical, but the theory couldn’t be discarded.
“What about my sister?!” Daphne demanded angrily, cutting off the chatting, some sheepishly looking away.
“We have to warn the teachers,” Hermione declared.
“We do,” Harry agreed. “But who exactly do we tell?”
“Not Lockheart,” Terry Boot said disdainfully. “The man doesn’t know a damn thing!”
Some girls shouted at him for that, while the boys backed Terry up.
“The headmaster needs to be informed!” Hannah stated, breaking up the argument. “And the heads of the houses should be warned, too!”
“They didn’t really listen to us last year,” Dean Thomas grumbled.
“I mean, they kinda did, in the end,” Neville said.
“And they totally let Quirrell get away with that mirror,” Kellah huffed.
“Regardless of what happens and who we tell, though, you’ll have to help the teachers find the Chamber of Secrets, Harry,” Ron spoke up.
“Why me?” Harry asked, confused.
“You’re a Parseltongue, Harry,” Ron said. “Just like Salazar Slytherin! I’ll bet you’re the only person who can open the Chamber of Secrets!”
“That makes sense,” Tracy muttered.
“Come on, let’s go find the teachers!” Hermione said, standing up, and the study group poured out of the library. The tidal wave of students broke apart into smaller groups, heading off to find the teachers in charge of the four houses.
“Professor McGonagall!” Lavender exclaimed as they burst into the Transfiguration classroom.
“Miss Brown?” their teacher asked, emerging from a side room in the back. “What is the matter?”
“Astoria Greengrass has gone missing!” Lavender explained. “She was taken to the Chamber of Secrets!”
“My word!” McGonagall exclaimed. “Are you sure?!”
“Daphne and Tracy came to us!” Sally-Anne replied.
“Yeah, they told us that somebody had written a warning on the walls of their common room,” Seamus explained.
“Why did they come to you for help?” the professor wondered.
“Because Snape is a git,” Ron muttered, only to get elbowed in the ribs by Hermione.
“Probably because I was able to figure out what Slytherin’s Monster was, and they were hoping I could find the Chamber,” Harry said.
“And did you?” McGonagall inquired. To her shock, her students all nodded.
“It was actually Neville who did so,” Harry admitted. “He figured out that Mrytle was the Basilisk’s last victim, and that the Basilisk is moving through the castle’s plumbing!”
“The plumbing?” McGonagall muttered. “That would be… no, but perhaps… if…”
She shook her head. “I see. Wait a moment.” The professor flicked her wand and summoned a ghostly cat. “Albus, the students have discovered the Chamber of Secrets! Meet us at the second-floor girl’s washroom!”
The cat then took off, phasing through the walls as it ran off to deliver the message. “Come, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said.
“You want me to come with you?” Harry asked.
“If you are correct, then you’re ability to speak to snake will likely be vital,” she replied.
“That’s what I said,” Ron commented, looking smug.
“The rest of you! Return to the dorms!” McGonagall ordered. “Inform the prefects to recall all students and to lock down the tower until I return!”
The Gryffindors scrambled out of the classroom, rushing to obey, while Harry fell in beside the Deputy Headmistress as she hurried along to the bathroom.
There, the two of them ran into Flitwick, Snape, and Sprout, who were standing inside, waving their wands and trying to scan the room.
“Where’s Albus?” McGonagall demanded, looking around at her fellow educators.
“Lockheart is missing,” Flitwick revealed. “The headmaster is trying to find him.”
“What is the boy doing here?” Snape demanded, glaring at the last member of House Potter.
“He’s a Parseltongue, Severus,” Sprout said. “Use your imagination!”
Harry was taken aback by the Herbology professor’s sassy retort, and he wasn’t the only one. Snape and Flitwick both stared at her, but McGonagall seemed amused.
“People forget that a badger has claws and fangs,” the Transfiguration professor commented with a chuckle, before stepping inside, Harry trailing behind. “Miss Warren! Are you here?”
“Yes, professor?” Moaning Myrtle inquired, popping out of her toilet.
“The students think you know where the Chamber of Secrets is,” McGonagall stated. “What happened on the night you died?”
“Oh, it was awful!” Myrtle said in a melodramatic way. “I was crying in this very stall because Hornby had been so very mean to me that day, but suddenly, I heard a boy speaking. Hissing, really. I opened the door to give him a piece of my mind, because boys aren’t supposed to be in here! Yet when I did, I saw giant, slitted yellow eyes staring back at me! And then I died.”
“Hissing… where exactly was the hissing coming from?” Flitwick asked urgently.
“Over there,” Myrtle replied, pointing towards the row of sinks directly in front of her stall. The teachers immediately started to cast spells at it.
“Nothing,” Snape muttered after a moment.
“Which in and of itself is telling,” Flitwick declared. “There should be some traces of spellwork and magic in the sinks from the water purification runes, yet not a single spark to be found!”
“A ward of some sort to prevent detection?” Sprout guessed.
“If there is, it’s a strong one,” Snape conceded.
“Mr. Potter?” McGonagall requested.
“Uh, what should I do?” he asked. “Just… talk to it?”
“If you would,” she said.
“Um… open,” Harry said lamely.
“Perhaps you need to try talking to it as if it’s a snake?” Sprout suggested when nothing happened.
~“Open,”~ Harry murmured once more, pretending the sink’s pipe he was staring at was a snake. To his and everyone else’s shock, it worked! The sink right next to the one he’d been talking to started to move, sinking into the floor with a rumble and revealing a massive, slimy hole leading deep into the depths of the castle.
“Well I’ll be!” Flitwick said excitedly. “It worked! Some sort of password trigger?”
“Could be,” Snape grunted. “Perhaps a runic sequence tied to a ward schematic based on Parseltongue words?”
“Whatever it is, there’s a way down,” Sprout said, raising her wand and shining a beam of light down into the hole.
“Looks slippery,” Harry muttered. “Should we get some brooms?”
“Not a bad idea, but perhaps… Mr. Potter, could you try asking for stairs?” the Charms professor requested.
~“Stairs, please,”~ Harry said, closing his eyes in order to visualize a snake in his mind’s eye. Another rumble rang out, and when he opened his eyes, the slimy hole had gained some stairs. Still slimy, though.
“Let’s go,” McGonagall said, scrubbing away the slime sticking to the floor and walls with a flick of her wand.
“Stay close to our side,” Sprout instructed Harry. “We’ll protect you.”
He nodded nervously, and stuck to the side of his teachers. Professor Flitwick went first, followed by Snape, McGonagall, and then Harry and Sprout taking up the rear. The descent was silent, the darkness just barely banished by the lights on the ends of the wands.
“We’re below the dungeons,” Snape said as they reached the bottom of the staircase.
“Remarkable! To think there was a whole level of the castle we had no idea about,” Flitwick murmured as he examined the walls.
“Did the House Elves know of this place?” Harry wondered. Considering how dirty it was, the answer was probably ‘no.’ Even in the most unused parts of Hogwarts, the House Elves made sure to dust and tidy up at regular intervals. The weird green ooze clinging to every surface would never have been tolerated by the cleanliness obsessed servants.
“Unplottable charms… Anti-Scrying wards… an assortment of primitive anti-interference spellwork and what appears to be a crude spatial distortion hex connected to the plumbing…” Flitwick muttered as he examined the construction of the Chamber. “Very interesting. This explains why nobody ever found the Chamber of Secrets. It’s almost like this place is an entirely different location rather than part of Hogwarts as a whole!”
Snape nodded, intrigued, before wincing and clutching his arm.
“Severus?” McGonagall asked, squinting at the Potion’s professor.
“It’s nothing,” he replied through gritted teeth. Nobody believed him, but they left it alone, focusing instead on traveling through the Chamber, trying to find Astoria and the heir.
They came across a wall, but Harry was able to open it. They all nearly had a heart attack when they found the Basilisk skin on the other side.
“Sweet Merlin!” Sprout exclaimed.
“If this is its shed skin, how big it is right now?” McGonagall wondered in horror.
“Remarkably well-preserved,” Flitwick muttered, Snape nodding in agreement.
“It’s recent,” the Potioneer stated. “Otherwise there would be more traces of decay.”
“Let us keep going,” McGonagall declared after a moment.
Continuing on, they eventually arrived at a large chamber with a high, vaulted ceiling filled with statues and lit with eerie green flames. Water dripped, and the air itself was damp and unpleasantly slick.
“Salazar Slytherin,” Snape muttered in awe, looking up at the central statue which depicted a severe-faced man with a sharp, pointy beard and large eyebrows.
“That’s right. My ancestor,” a smug voice called out, and the group spun around to face a teenager wearing school robes. At his feet, Astoria twitched and moaned, a dirty old diary clutched in her hands.
“Tom?!” McGonagall exclaimed in disbelief, staring at the student. Snape’s face turned paled, and he clutched at his arm tighter.
“Ah, Minnie. You got old,” the young man sneered, folding his arms across his chest.
“You know him?” Sprout demanded.
“Tom Marvello Riddle, Head Boy and recipient of an award for services rendered to the school,” McGonagall replied. “He attended school sixty years ago!”
“Yes, it is I,” Tom said with a smirk. “Though from the memories of this adorable little girl, you know me by a different name these days.”
He took out a wand, and began to carve glowing words into the air that formed his name. Then, he rearranged the letters, causing Harry and the professors to gasp in horror at what he’d spelled out.
“I am Lord Voldemort,” Tom said grandly, taking a slight bow. “A pleasure!”
“Impossible… Impossible!” McGonagall exclaimed. “You died! You were dead!”
“I likely faked my death,” Tom Riddle replied with a shrug. “Seems like something I would do.”
“How could you become Voldemort, though?!” the Transfiguration professor demanded. “You were a Half-blood!”
That caused everyone to jerk with a start of disbelief while Tom frowned. “I bear the blood of Slytherin. The Death Eaters clearly knew the purity of my lineage despite my wretch of a father’s mundane ancestry.”
“I can assure you, that was not the case,” Snape retorted, wincing immediately afterwards.
“Hmm. You seem to have a curse upon you… one tied to my soul,” Tom mused, intrigued. He reached out with a hand and Snape collapsed to his knees with a cry of pain.
“Release him!” McGonagall demanded. “And release Miss Greengrass!”
“No, I will not,” Tom shot back. Flitwick shot a spell at him, but it passed through, like he was a hologram!
“Heh, nice try, but I don’t currently have a body. Not yet, at least,” Tom snickered at Flitwick’s dumbfounded expression.
“You… what have you done to yourself?!” Sprout demanded.
“Me? I did nothing. It’s all little Astoria’s fault,” Tom said, reaching down and stroking the pale girl’s cheek. “She was the one who called to me, who invited me in. She poured her heart out to me, and I replaced the hole that was left behind.”
Harry’s eyes locked onto the diary, while Flitwick paled.
“A Horcrux!” he spat, and Tom raised an eyebrow.
“Hmm, you know of it?”
“It is the most evil of magic!” the half-goblin teacher exclaimed. “To murder innocence itself in exchange for splitting your soul in an attempt to gain a false immortality!”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Tom sighed. “I suppose I have to kill you, now that you know my little secret.”
He then turned to the statue. ~“Hear me, Beast of Slytherin! I command you to kill the interlopers! Feast on their entrails!”~
“It’s coming!” Harry exclaimed in fright. “The Basilisk is coming!”
Tom glared at the Boy-Who-Lived. “You… I remember you. The girl told me how you are the one who supposedly killed me. I will enjoy finding out how you did so.”
He then grinned. “I think I will make you my new body! This child is sick and will not last long, so a fresh, healthy body would be much better! And who better than the one who vanquished my older form?”
McGonagall picked up Harry and dragged him away, but it was too late. The door leading to the chamber slammed shut, and no matter how Harry shouted at it in Parseltongue it refused to budge.
“Get ready!” Flitwick shouted. “Here it comes!”
The mouth of the Slytherin statue creaked open, and from within a terrifying sight emerged. Over sixty feet long with poison-drenched fangs as long as his arms, the Basilisk landed on the floor with a thump.
~“Kill!”~ the Basilisk hissed in a curiously feminine voice. ~“Fresh meat! Kill!”~
~“Stop!”~ Harry called out. It unfortunately ignored him, and Tom laughed.
“Did you think that would work?!” Tom cackled. “Only those of direct descent can command it!”
In response, McGonagall transfigured several pieces of rock into snarling wolves while Flitwick conjured several floating mirrors. Sprout withdrew several bags of seeds and began to summon binding vines of Devil’s Snare to entangle the gargantuan serpent while Snape, fighting the pain assailing him, lashed out with dark spells that left bloody gouges in the monster’s side. Unfortunately, for all of their efforts, it did little to the monstrous creature as it thrashed and rampaged.
As they did this, Harry immediately clenched his eyes shut, trying to avoid accidentally looking at the Basilisk as he stood in the corner of the room, shivering.
All the while, Tom Riddle Jr. laughed maniacally, taunting the teachers. “You’ll never be able to win! I am the Heir of Slytherin! The world will bow before me!”
“You arrogant little-!” McGonagall hissed in a cat-like manner.
“I have the right to be arrogant!” Tom sneered. “You cannot defeat me! And Dumbledore is gone, yes?”
“What did you do to Lockheart?” Flitwick demanded, instantly guessing that there was a connection between the Defense Teacher’s absence and Tom’s revival.
“The idiot was very easy to trick and dispose of. All I did was have my little friend here tell him a few lies and he went rushing off into the Forbidden Forest to find his next book,” Tom drawled. “I’ll be surprised if he makes it out alive.”
“You will be punished for this,” Sprout declared.
“I am immortal, I am beyond your ability to harm,” Tom sneered.
A brilliant explosion of red and gold flames erupted near the ceiling of the Chamber, and an echoing cry that filled everyone who heard it with hope rang out from the center of the burning mass that had manifested out of nowhere. Even Harry, with his eyes closed, was able to see it when it appeared, the light banishing the shadows that clung to the walls.
“Fawkes?!” McGonagall exclaimed in disbelief as the Headmaster’s fiery bird appeared in the air above them. It dropped something into Harry’s hands, and then divebombed the Basilisk, flaming talons rending apart its eyes.
In an instant the battle changed in favor of the professors, who immediately moved to take advantage of the monster’s blindness. Flitwick sent waves of glittering charms that caused it pain, while Snape sent drill-like beams of sickly orange magic that managed to create bloody craters all over the serpent’s body. Nearby, Sprout brought more vines to pin it in place, some of which seemed to be trying to suck the blood out of the Basilisk’s injuries, and McGonagall transfigured more creatures such as moles, giant beetles, and more, these ones clambering all over the Basilisk and trying to burrow into the wounds that had been made.
“NO!” Tom roared. “Sniff them out! Find them! Kill them!”
As if prepared for that order, Flitwick filled the air with a variety of different scents, no doubt to confuse the Basilisk. He also unleashed gouts of flame to bamboozle the heat detecting organs the giant snake possessed, protecting the rest of the teachers.
Meanwhile, Harry stared at the Sorting Hat that had landed in his hands.
“Hello again, Mr. Potter,” the hat said.
“Err, hello, sir,” Harry replied, somewhat surprised to see it talking to him.
“So polite! Don’t see that much anymore,” the Sorting Hat chuckled. “Alas, no time for pleasantries. I have a gift for you.”
Confused, Harry wondered what he meant by that, but then he felt something heavy resting within the pointy bit of the magical hat. Curious, he reached in, and found something hard. When he pulled it out, it revealed itself to be a beautiful silver sword studded with rubies. In addition, a small golden ring with a tiny red gem fell out into his hand.
“Quick, put me on, along with the ring!” the Sorting Hat urged, and Harry did so. Immediately, Harry knew what he had to do. As he looked up at the Basilisk, Harry was able to see the way it moved and predict what it would do next.
Thoughts and tactics that were not his own flooded his mind, and Harry somehow knew that these were Godric Gryffindor’s memories of battle, teaching him how to fight, where to strike, and what he needed to do to slay the beast and save the school.
There was no battle cry. No rousing speech. Just the Boy Who Lived gripping the legendary blade of Godric Gryffindor tightly as he ran towards the Basilisk.
“HARRY!” Professor McGonagall cried out, and Flitwick raised his wand to try and stop him, but Tom lashed out with his stolen wand, countering the Charms Professor’s spell with a jet of oily grey sparks.
“Let him die if he wishes!” the boy who would become Voldemort laughed, only for his mockery to die in his throat as Harry shouted ~“BOW TO ME!”~ in Parseltongue, his voice overlayed with another, older one that came from the Sorting Hat, and the Basilisk obeyed.
Not entirely willingly, if the way it slammed its head into the floor of the Chamber was any indicator, but it had worked, and before Slytherin’s Monster could recover, the professors took advantage of its stunned state to throw even more spells at it to pin it in place.
Still the Basilisk resisted, and it opened its maw to swallow Harry whole. Yet that was the opening the boy needed as he drove the blade upwards, piercing the roof of its mouth with the majestic blade. Silvery metal struck deep into the monster’s brain, and a rumbling hiss accompanied a shower of burning blood that splattered over Harry.
With one final bout of desperation the thousand-year-old Basilisk tried to bite down, attempting to clamp onto Harry.
The fangs descended and Harry felt the Sorting Hat tell him to move one step back and to the left, and he did so, trusting it. Most of the venomous fangs missed, yet as they did, the edge of one slashed downwards and raked across his forehead, bisecting his scar.
A single scratch, but that was enough for a torrent of pain to rush into his body, and everything turned white.
Harry looked around, confused. Why was he standing in a living room? And why was everything so painfully white?
White couch and furniture, white walls, white floor and ceiling. White fluorescent lights, and a white coffee table that had a white vase full of lily flowers.
For some reason, a grotesque, malformed bloody lump was cowering under the table, trying to hide from the light. It moaned when Harry tried to get a better look at it.
“Eww,” he grunted. “What is that?”
“That is what happens when you do horrible things to try to live forever,” a soft woman’s voice informed him, and Harry jerked in surprise, spinning around to find somebody sitting on the couch.
Wearing a plain white dress, she had red hair and bright green eyes, which currently were filled with unshed tears.
“Mom?” he whispered, his own green eyes wide as he stared at the woman he had only ever seen in photos. He hadn’t mastered Occlumency enough to be able to remember his time as a baby yet, and so those photos from Ed and Hagrid were the only times he’d ever seen his parents.
“My baby!” Lily replied with a choked sob, reaching out for him, and he flung himself into her arms.
“Oh, my precious baby boy,” she murmured. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Mom! Mom!” Harry sobbed out.
“I’ve been watching you,” Lily told him. “Your father and I are so proud of you. And so very, very sorry.”
“Please don’t leave me again!” he begged, nuzzling himself deeper into her body.
Lily hesitated. “I-I cannot stay,” she said. “But… but if… no…”
“What? What is it?” Harry asked her.
“I can’t stay, but… you could come with me,” Lily said.
“I could?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes. You’ve done enough,” Lily told him. “You saved the girl, stopped the monster, and broken the fate that bound you. You’re free at last.”
“What about my friends?” Harry wondered.
“It’s not their time,” his mother replied with a shake of her head. “Someday. But not today.”
Harry looked down. He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he stay? Or go?
“Whatever you decide, know that we will always love you,” Lily vowed.
“I want… I can’t leave my friends,” Harry finally said. “I’m sorry!”
“No, baby, it was wrong of me to even make the suggestion,” Lily told him. “You’re still young. You have so much ahead of you!”
“Voldemort…” Harry muttered. “He’s still alive, isn’t he?”
“He is. But you will defeat him. You have friends to help you to do so, after all,” Lily said, brimming with confidence.
“I love you,” Harry said, hugging her. He could feel himself waking up, the room he was in starting to fade away.
“I love you, too,” Lily declared. “We all love you, and will be with you every step of the way.”
The white room vanished, leaving Harry in darkness. And for some reason, his face was wet? And there was a sound of heartbreaking sorrow echoing in his ears, but also unbridled joy.
With a groan, Harry sat up, running a hand over his face. His head hurt, and his whole body felt sore. And then a pair of strong arms grabbed him in a tight hug.
“Harry!” McGonagall exclaimed, his Head of House checking him over while the other professors crowded around him. The Sorting Hat had fallen off at some point, but the diminutive Charms professor had ahold of it.
“Impossible... Impossible, impossible!” Tom screamed, glaring at Harry, enraged. “You… you cheated! You’re not supposed to be alive!”
He then glared at Fawkes, the phoenix sitting proudly atop the head of the slain Basilisk. “Pheonix tears cannot bring back the dead!”
Harry glanced down at his right hand where the ring rested on his index finger. The golden band was unblemished, but the gem set in it was cracked and grey.
‘Ed… Mr. Flamel… thank you,’ Harry thought to himself, realizing what the jewel had actually been, and where it had come from. Somehow, the Philosopher’s Stone, or a copy of it, combined with Fawkes magical tears, had brought him back from the brink of death.
He didn’t know why Ed’s ring had been inside the Sorting Hat, but right now, he didn’t care. He had bigger things to worry about.
Pushing himself to his feet, the teachers tried to stop him from moving, but Fawkes let out a cry that stopped them, and filled Harry with a second wind. Wiping blood and phoenix tears away from his face, Harry stalked over to phantasmal teenager, who recoiled.
“No… what are you doing?” he demanded, but then Tom’s eyes glanced down at the diary held in Astoria’s hands. “NO! STAY AWAY!”
He raised his wand towards Harry, but Snape roared out, “Expelliarmus!” and the wand went flying away.
Without pausing, Harry knelt beside Astoria and gently tugged the book from her grasp. He then plunged Gryffindor’s sword, coated in Basilisk blood and venom, through the center of it, and Tom Riddle Jr. let out a horrific cry, form rippling before vanishing like smoke.
At the same time, the diary exploded, spewing ink everywhere, and Harry tossed it aside in disgust as it coated his robes.
“Mr. Potter,” Professor Flitwick murmured. “You… well done. A hundred points to Gryffindor.”
Harry nodded, but kept his eyes locked onto the girl at his feet. “Astoria… is she going to be okay?”
“I do not know,” McGonagall replied as the teachers joined him. Her expression was pinched with worry.
“Her Blood Curse has started to overwhelm her body and magic,” Snape said as he knelt beside her, checking her over. “Proximity to the… Horcrux, was it? Seems to have agitated the curse and accelerated it while also fusing with the traces of foreign Dark magic from the artifact into something new. Before, she had maybe another decade before it began to truly harm her, but now? She will be lucky to survive the night.”
“That… isn’t there something we can do?” Harry gasped.
“I’m afraid not,” Flitwick said sadly. “Young Greengrass’s condition has been looked at by the finest Curse Breakers and Healers from across the world. There was no cure when it was still dormant and weaker. But now, due to Voldemort’s Horcrux… I fear there is even less hope.”
“Actually, there may be a way,” the Sorting Hat spoke up, and everyone turned to stare at it.
“How?” Harry asked desperately.
“It is simple. You, young Harry Potter, must offer Astoria your blood. A sacrifice, willingly given,” the hat declared.
“That is Dark magic!” Sprout gasped.
“That which is called ‘Dark’ can often be far better as a cure than anything belonging to the Light. After all, even the antidote to a snake’s bite is made from its venom,” the Sorting Hat replied. “And young Harry here is the only one whose blood will work.”
“Because of my mother’s sacrifice,” Harry murmured in realization.
“The potent sacrifice of love your mother made protects from ill influence caused by Voldemort. If Astoria partakes of your blood, this protection will pass on to her, stopping the Horcrux’s negative influence upon her,” the Sorting Hat revealed. “Combined with the Elixir of Life, phoenix tears, and Basilisk venom that flows through your veins, it will be enough to burn the Blood Curse from the child’s body while also restoring her to a state that will be strong enough to survive.”
“However!” the hat continued in a warning tone. “If you do this, the Blood Wards that protect you will cease to be. They will linger, for another year or two, but will eventually fade completely. You will be as vulnerable to Voldemort’s magic and presence as any other person at that point.”
“Is that even a question?” Harry asked, before turning back to Astoria.
Without hesitation, and before anyone could stop him, the Boy Who Lived reached up to his forehead and swapped a finger across it, running the digit over his scar. A new line had joined it where the Basilisk’s fang had nicked the flesh, creating a thin, vertical cut through the lightning bolt. It was still bleeding a bit, and Harry took some of his blood onto his finger before smearing it on Astoria’s lips.
She unconsciously licked her lips and the tip of Harry’s finger, consuming the blood, before shuddering as the magic entered her body.
“Did it work?” Harry asked hopefully. Nothing seemed to be happening, but perhaps it was slow acting?
“By this time tomorrow, it will be like the Blood Curse was never there,” the Sorting Hat assured him, a note of pride in its voice as it spoke.
“How did you know that this was possible?” McGonagall asked in disbelief.
“People forget that I knew all four Founders, and that I was worn on their heads quite a few times so I might better know what qualities they desired from their students,” the Sorting Hat declared proudly. “I know all that they know. And this includes several kinds of ancient, esoteric magic lost to the ages.”
“I see,” McGonagall muttered. “But how are we going to get out of here? The door was sealed and Harry – I mean, Mr. Potter, couldn’t open it.”
“With the Basilisk and Tom no longer among the living, the barrier should be removed,” the hat informed them. “However, there is an easier way out. Fawkes, if you would be so kind?”
The phoenix trilled a song of victory, and the Chamber of Secrets was enveloped in a tide of gold and red flames.
The next thing they knew, everyone was outside Hogwarts on the lawn.
“Oh, well, that makes it easier,” Sprout murmured.
“Why bring us here?” Flitwick wondered. The sudden chorus of screams that rose up from the castle caused everyone to first look up at the dozens of students whose were staring out the windows at their group, and then the group who’d ventured into the hidden lair turned around to find that Fawkes had brought the Basilisk’s corpse with them when it had flamed everyone out.
“Cheeky bird,” the Sorting Hat chuckled. Fawkes let out a smug trill, amusement echoing throughout across the school’s grounds and calming the shrieking children.
“Let us get these two to Pomfrey before we do anything,” Snape suggested, picking up Astoria from the grass, while McGonagall nodded in agreement and waved her wand, lifting Harry up into the air and floating him towards the castle.
Flitwick and Sprout created a few wards around the enormous monster’s corpse, as well as a few physical barriers to deter any overly curious students from approaching, before joining the other two Heads of House as they hurried into the castle and the infirmary.
‘This will be one bloody story for Ed and the rest,’ Harry thought to himself in a daze. Were all of his years at Hogwarts going to end like this?
Comments
Darkarma
So Harry and Astoria? Poor Ginny but given the general narrative of this story thus far I'm not surprised.
avatarjedi
Great chapter! Can’t wait for more!!!!
