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ACT3CH2 - The Expedition Part 1
🕑 Added 2023-07-11 16:14:57 +0000 UTCA group of curse-breakers, school governors and staff, and visiting delegates walked into a girl’s lavatory. It sounded like the beginning of a joke, but Harry Potter was not amused.
Possibly because the joke was on him.
“Harry!” sang Myrtle, appearing out of her toilet with a splash. “You came back!”
Years of being in public scrutiny allowed him to ignore the looks he was getting. He was certain that several people in the group would be putting him through a furious inquisition after this. Especially Fleur. And Sirius. He turned towards Daphne who was doing her best to look elsewhere, though the small twist on her lips showed that she was both irritated and amused, a dichotomous expression that was a mystery greater than Death. In the end, he decided to focus on how cute it was and that was that.
Not that it helped him any bit with dealing with the ghost.
“Er… Hi, Myrtle,” he said. “We — uh —”
“I heard it all, Harry,” cooed Myrtle, blushing silver. “You’re very noble. I’ll always have a place in my toilet for you. That’s a promise.”
She did her best to drag the last word as long as she could, as if utterly oblivious to the muffled snorts in the background. Harry did his best to ignore the growing redness on his face and looked down at the floor.
“Miss Myrtle,” said Dumbledore, “we’re all going to see the Chamber. Would you like to come with us?”
Harry whirled around so fast that he worried he might have snapped his neck. Despite the genial tone, Harry had no doubt that the old professor was taking the mickey out of him.
“Oh no, Headmaster,” said Myrtle, shaking her head. “We ghosts don’t go down there!”
That attracted everyone’s attention.
“Don’t,” caught Bernard. “Not can’t?”
The ghost scowled at him, annoyed at his interruption. Then she returned her gaze at the Headmaster and beamed again. “The Bloody Baron warned us. If we go down there, we’ll be trapped, never to escape.”
“Interesting…” muttered the Headmaster. “A spiritual trap, perhaps?”
Harry realised he needed to work on his ‘I am trying to appear innocent’ look. He was acutely aware of the undisguised interest of their rag-tag team at the ghost’s words, especially because he knew exactly what happened if a spirit tried to trespass within. For a man born a millennia ago, Salazar was a visionary. His wards didn’t bother keeping intruders out. No, they trapped them within.
There was a reason why the atrium of the Chamber was known as the Mausoleum after all.
“And if I really wanted to go there, I’d have gone with Harry when he came in last month.”
Crap.
“Harry?” asked Dumbledore, giving him a piercing gaze. “I was not aware you’ve been visiting the Chamber.”
“Hecate’s a growing girl, so I put her in the Chamber. My room often has visitors, and I thought she’d appreciate the larger space to slither about.”
“Hecate as in the runespoor, correct?” asked Scamander.
“A runespoor,” murmured Snape. “You’ve been dabbling with dark creatures, Potter?”
“Runespoor?” blinked Sharptooth, giving Harry a look of respect. “Rare. Strong. Fetch some good galleons.”
“Well, we’ve Professor Dumbledore here. Shouldn’t be a lot of trouble taking it down if it attacks us,” claimed Bernard.
“The runespoor is my familiar,” snapped Harry. “Nobody’s hurting it.”
Snape narrowed his eyes, while Bernard looked taken aback at the heat in his voice. The goblin too leaned back slightly, as if to distance himself from a suddenly dangerous animal, or expected cauldron explosion.
“Gentlemen,” said Dumbledore, easily falling into the mediator role. “Mr. Potter has a moulted runespoor that imprinted on him, and is perfectly subservient to his commands. I’d advise everyone to maintain a healthy distance from it—”
“Her,” Harry added in a clipped tone.
“Her,” Dumbledore corrected, “and everything should be fine.”
“Harry,” asked Bill. “Are you perfectly sure? I mean, it is a XXXX carnivorous creature for a reason. Seeing so many people at a time might spark a reaction.”
“Not every creature out there is out for your blood, William,” Fleur replied sharply.
“Yes, you’d know,” Bill threw back in a matching tone.
“Everyone, can we please not do this?” said Sirius, raising his wand and throwing out red sparks. “Harry’s a parselmouth, and he’s been tending to the runespoor through the summer. I think we can all trust him that he’ll keep it away from us. And even in a worst-case scenario, I’m certain we can defend ourselves. There is no need for violence.”
“Agreed,” said Joshua.
“Really Dumbledore, what were you thinking?” said Scamander out of nowhere. “Getting a bunch of careerist hypocrites without clearing it out with Mr. Potter before?”
Harry winced.
“Excuse me?” demanded Bill.
“Oi!” said Sharptooth.
“I’m sorry but I can’t admire people whose answer to everything they fear or misunderstand is ‘kill it’,” said Scamander.
“I’m a hit-wizard and I don’t,” said Sirius.
“That’s because you’ve gone middle-head.”
“Middle-head?” asked Daphne.
“Errr… wot?” asked Sirius, who was far less discreet.
“It’s an expression derived from the three heads of a runespoor,” explained Harry. “The middle head is the visionary. Everyone here’s first reaction was to treat Hecate like a dangerous creature and kill it, not Sirius. So yeah, he’s gone middle-head.”
Daphne blinked.
“I thought it was only me who used that expression, Mr. Potter,” said Scamander.
Harry grinned.
“Well, you two are going along famously,” said Dumbledore. “But now, I’m afraid I must ask you Harry to open the entrance to the Chamber. As unfortunate as it is, this is my first foray into the mysterious Chamber as well.”
“I thought he’d never ask,” muttered Joshua.
Harry took a step forward and slowly touched the snake engravings on the sides of the sink. As wardholder, he could access the Chamber so long as he was within its periphery, or was actively touching it. And this lavatory technically fell into both.
“Passage,” He hissed, never noticing Nicholas Flamel suddenly blink several times at him in surprise. The sink gave way, revealing a vast tunnel that was more than large enough for three people to slide in all at once.
Daphne had been right. There was no way Salazar Slytherin would slide through this passageway like a muggle. This was actually an entrance for the basilisk to enter Hogwarts from the Chamber in case the castle was attacked. That, or if someone used Parseltongue to command it into doing the same.
He could have used any of the alternate entrances. The one through the antechamber of the Great Hall would have been the most direct, as would have been the entrance behind Snape’s office. But both would have revealed his knowledge of the Chamber. The last thing he wanted was for Voldemort to find out that he had taken control of the same wards that Voldemort himself commanded back when he was a student.
Daphne had heartily laughed when he had shared his thoughts with her. To quote her, her Slytherin qualities were rubbing off on him.
“It’s kinda messy there,” he admitted. “You’ll need repelling charms unless you want to smell like rotten flesh.”
Dumbledore, it seemed, had other ideas. He waved his wand, forming a large protego bubble around himself, Newt and Nicholas Flamel, while the others followed his example. Sirius cast one for himself and him, while Joshua took Daphne into his own bubble. And then they began to descend into the darkness of the pit.
….
….
….
“Yak! This is… ‘orrible! spat Fleur, casting a cleansing charm on herself. Half the expedition members were cloaked in varying layers of dust and grime, from the sudden boulder shower from above.
Harry had mentally tweaked the defences slightly, ensuring that they fell a lot slower than normal. The hastily-raised protego shields had stopped them from being injured from the blunt impact, but had left them vulnerable to the dust storm he had raised next, washing them with a wave of dust and the putrefying stench of rotten meat.
Daphne was not amused.
He had to digest the glares she sent his way as she applied multiple cleansing charms to wipe off the dust and the rotten smell off her robes. Meanwhile, Dumbledore and McGonagall had transfigured the newly created blockade into a brand new splendid archway for them to walk through.
“How long do you think that will last?” asked Sirius.
“No way to tell,,” said Bill. “It’s solid rock, and the structure is stable. So even if it runs out of magic, it should hold for a long time. On the other hand if this defence gets triggered again then…”
“The first time we came in,” said Harry. “Lockhart tried to obliviate Ron, and the spell backfired. The ceiling caved in right after. I thought it was because of that.”
“Could be,” said Bill thoughtfully. “Obliviations are psychic magic, aimed only towards another mind. But if he cast it with a broken wand then..” he paused, and began waving his wand and muttering something under his breath.
“I was right,” he said. “It is a defence mechanism, following a protocol of sorts. Not unlike a cursed tomb. Whatever triggers its defences gets a taste of that.”
Bill was right. The caving in of the outer chamber wasn’t entirely due to Lockhart’s spell. Much like the troll’s leg standing next to the stairs in Grimmauld Place, this place was bewitched to greet intruders unless they were in the presence of someone that had already been inside. It wasn’t a very sophisticated system, but it did its job.
“And what’s the trigger?” asked Fleur.
“I… really can’t say,” said Bill. “All I can tell is that they have a number of wards tied together in a way I’ve only seen once or twice in Egypt.”
“Can you elaborate?” asked Dumbledore.
“I would, but before that,” Bill paused, and muttered a few more incantations. “Professor Dumbledore, you’re the Headmaster. Can you tell me if you hold control of these wards?”
Dumbledore shook his head.
“As I suspected,” said Bill. “This ward system is part of the Chamber of Secrets, independent of Hogwarts wards. Bernard, can you run a schematic analysis? See if you find a similarity with ancient greek models?”
“I doubt they are,” said Sharptooth, who was busy waving his own wand, as all kinds of symbols were forming before him. “I don’t recognize this script at all. It’s not Celtic or Nordic. I can see some similarity with ancient Sumerian but that’s less than thirty percent. Whoever crafted it must have used a script that predates our current Wizardry.”
Harry couldn’t agree more. The current magical foundations were derived out of the Elder Futhark and the Anglo-Saxon Futhark, with a latin-based incantation model. Salazar’s structure was crafted using a system that existed at least three thousand years before that came to pass.
“My best guess is that these wards weren’t created to be autonomous. They need a… holder, of sorts.”
“Like a Lord in a magical house?” asked Sirius.
Harry smiled. Of course Sirius would think of that.
“Yes.”
“Perchance… the Dark Lord held the wards at one time then?” asked Snape. “I mean, he is the Heir of Slytherin.”
Harry almost rolled his eyes at that.
Bernard shook his head. “The wards are active and completely under someone’s authority. Unless You-Know-Who is living inside the Chamber right now, I doubt he holds the wards.”
Harry pursed his lips. They were skirting dangerously close to the truth. Still, it was better to see how far they could figure out with the limited information. His plans demanded it.
“I doubt that,” he said. “I mean, I’ve always been able to sense whenever he’s close by. When Daphne and I visited the chamber last month, I could feel nothing.”
“That might not necessarily be correct, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “You’ll remember that your curse scar connected the two of you together. It was why you could sense him. But with the scar fading, that might no longer be the case.”
“Perhaps I should escort Daphne back?” Joshua offered.
“Dad, no, if Harry is staying, then so am I,” said Daphne stubbornly.
“Daphne, if there’s even a chance that the Dark Lord is down here then…”
“Dad, we’re surrounded by a Hit-Wizard, a team of curse-breakers, Hogwarts professors, and Albus Dumbledore. And don’t forget, Harry’s here with me. If the Dark Lord gets to me despite all of them, I might as well not stay at Hogwarts.”
“But —”
“Dad, please,” said Daphne, her eyes begging him to drop the topic.
“Don’t worry,” Harry added, looking at the man meaningfully. “We’ll be fine.”
Joshua looked conflicted but consented.
“Lord Voldemort has tried to breach Hogwarts defences several times in the past,” said Dumbledore. “If he really held the wards to this portion of the castle, he would have been successful. That said, we must be vigilant. Sirius, William, please stay on alert.”
Harry inwardly scowled. Neither he nor Daphne had talked about their discovery of Ananta-Shesha’s lair with Joshua or Sirius. Not that he didn’t trust them with the knowledge, but the less people knew about the lair the better. Voldermort and his Death Eaters were a dangerous force, but the more Harry learned about the lair and what was within it, the more he realised that Hogwarts was literally sitting on a bomb. Honestly, Tom Riddle would have had a better chance at world domination as a teacher at Hogwarts than being a Dark Lord. Why someone so frightfully intelligent and charismatic as him would ignore such a powerful resource and instead become a megalomaniac bastard with red eyes and a noseless face, Harry would never understand.
The harvesters collected the snakeskin spread out outside the antechamber. Daphne had mentioned that she wanted to take it home to show it to her dad, but somewhere along the line, that ended up getting postponed. Mr. Patil looked absolutely giddy at the idea of the real thing if the snakeskin was that long. Exchanging an amused glance with Daphne, Harry led them to the main entrance.
“Open,” he said, and the ornate door swung open, revealing the atrium in all its glory.
Harry made a point to spend an entire second standing there, just enough to demonstrate minor hesitation while displaying familiarity with the area. Returning to the Chamber always made him feel powerful, like a king returning to his castle. It was his place of power. As he stood in the Mausoleum, he could see what and where everyone else was gazing at. From the wards interspersed within the large, ornately designed hall, to the snake effigies, he had eyes and ears everywhere, paying attention to the intruders within his domain. He could hear Ananta-Shesha whispering sweet nothings in his ear, the familiar leashed violence hanging in the air, ready to assault the others at the slightest gesture.
Intruders…. Do they think they can just trespass into my domain and seek my secrets? Secrets that Salazar wanted hidden from the waking world?
I’ll show them their place.
“...”
Harry blinked. He hadn’t thought that. He wouldn’t. Such a thing would never cross his mind, not even for a heartbeat. That kind of thinking — that sensation of such terrible pride, and a cold fury that made him sick to the stomach. It was in his head, it was in his thoughts, but it didn’t feel like him at all. To look at the world and everything else like they were inferior, that the world was just a filthy, decrepit mess that should be purged out of existence was….
Wrong!
Harry shut his eyes. This was the second time that he had lost control. He remembered the duel he had with Malfoy and his cohorts, remembered how it had changed from proving a point to actually enjoying humiliating Malfoy in front of everyone. The sheer satisfaction he felt from watching Malfoy scream, feeling the pain coursing through his body as his spine bent by the force of his power was contagious.
It was exactly what Voldemort had done.
No, he told himself. I’m just tired. I was angry at Malfoy, at Umbridge, at everything that was going on. Things were bubbling up that shouldn’t have been. That’s all. I just need to… get some relaxation and get my mind back in order. All of that was just me lashing out and… and nothing more.
Yes. That was right.
Harry exhaled.
He just needed some rest, that was all.
“Harry?”
Daphne’s words brought him out of his mental meanderings. He turned back to see her looking at him, a frown on her face. A little further away, Fleur too was looking at him with a strange, inscrutable expression.
Not surprising, Harry mused. Fleur was a natural sensor. It was part of her veela heritage. Harry too had some innate skill in that art, but nowhere close to Fleur. It was why she had taken to wardcrafting like a fish to water. Daphne on the other hand, must have sensed the stiffness in his body language. How a girl her age became that perceptive was a greater mystery than the Fidelius charm.
“I’m fine,” he said. He didn’t need to turn around to see that the others had already started working on the basilisk carcass. The Hogwarts staff were conflicted between staring at the gargantuan green reptile with torn, sightless yellow eyes, and large, sharp fangs outlining its massive jaw, and giving Harry stupefied looks, wondering how a brat with two years of subpar magical education managed to slay this mythical beast. Bill and his team were already investigating the walls and the snake effigies. Harry wondered if they’d be able to figure out that the effigies on the pillars and the terracotta sculptures adorning the walls were actually entrapped souls — magical and mundane, that were forced to do the bidding of the ward holder. Should shit hit the fan, he’d have the ability to use a certain spell and command them to war. Apparently Godric Gryffindor had crafted hundreds of effigies, all of them empowered by the ley lines beneath Hogwarts, ready to be summoned to battle by the sitting Headmaster in case the school was facing an incursion by an outside force. Such sorcery was above Salazar’ s paygrade, so he had bewitched hundreds of effigies, and used Necromancy to create a passable imitation. Salazar thought that if Godric and the others truly knew what terrible enchantments he had placed within Hogwarts, they’d have killed him on spot.
It was why the outer chamber was called Mausoleum.
Yes. Salazar was a visionary, but he was also a cruel sonofabitch.
Mr. Patil and his team had already started working on the carcass with Snape helping them, hovering in wondrous appreciation for the extracted ingredients. Harry had already planned on donating a small portion of the collected ingredients for Hogwarts potion reserves. Sure, Snape was an arsehole and nothing he did or would do would ever change that, but that man was genuinely trying to teach him to be better. He hoped the potions master would appreciate the gift if nothing else.
“SPEAKER!” came a loud scary hiss as hecate rushed out of whatever hole she was sleeping in. Daphne yelped out uncharacteristically as Hecate lunged in their general direction, all three heads rushing at him. One moment Harry was idly noting how needy, demanding, and self-centred his familiar was, wondering if it was its lack of company, and the next moment, the hairs on the back of his neck rose, as his Awareness warned him of the hastily raised wands and spells flying towards his familiar. One purple spell in particular slashed against her scales and flung her down to the ground.
“MORS EXESA!” he hissed, not realising that he had cast it in Parseltongue, causing a massive wave of pure Death exploding out of him, forming a shield between his familiar and the incoming spells. He could barely hear Daphne make an ‘Ack’ sound as she was yanked backwards by Joshua, just in time to avoid being exposed to the Death energy. He only had eyes for Hecate who had coiled around itself to avoid the spellfire, and a feral rage lit up his mind.
Spinning around, wand in hand, he regarded Bill Weasley.
“Why the hell did you do that?” he snarled.
“Harry, I — I thought it was attacking Miss Greengrass. The snake just lunged at her and was about to —”
“DO NOTHING!” He raged, “it was just coming to me!”
“Harry,” Sirius tried. “Not all of us understand snakes. It’s a large and deadly creature and it was lunging for Daphne. Bill only did what anyone else in his position would do.”
Harry glared at Sirius, but his godfather didn’t back down.
“Harry,” said Daphne, who looked a little pale. “Calm down.”
He looked at her, then at Joshua and then back at her, noticing how she looked blue and pale.
“...Sorry,” he said. “You alright?”
“Mos—mostly,” she stuttered, crossing her arms and shivering. “I — I feel cold. I think it was from being too close to that spell.”
And just like that, the rage was replaced by a mounting dread. A fresh horror shot through his spine as he realised that he could have killed Daphne if not for Joshua pulling her away in time. From the way the man was glaring daggers at him, he was likely pissed off.
Not that Harry could blame him.
“I — I’m sorry, Daphne. I didn’t think!”
“Of course he didn’t think,” snapped Joshua coldly. “He didn’t even notice you were standing beside him.”
Harry looked at the man, tongue-tied, his eyes downcast in shame. Wasn’t this exactly what Snape had warned him from? He might have Death protecting the secrets of his mind, but what good was it if he wore his emotions up his sleeve? He had just used a Death spell in close vicinity of all these people. So engrossed he was in his tunnel vision for protecting Hecate, he hadn’t thought about the possible ramifications of what he was about to do.
“....Sorry,” he said, looking downcast. “I just saw them firing spells at Hecate and I reacted.”
He didn’t need to look at the others to see the looks they were giving him.
“Is she fine?” asked Daphne softly.
Harry looked at her, and then at Hecate. He offered the snake a hand, the reptile slowly crawled towards him, slithering across his arm until it was wrapped up around his top, raising all three outfits hoods while looming above his head protectively.
“It’s fine,” he said, softly caressing the runespoor’s scales. “They won’t harm you.”
“Foolish Speaker!” said the middle head. “We’re runespoor. Wizard spells do not hurt us.”
That was right. Runespoors were tremendously resistant to magical spell damage. Only the darkest of spells could tear past their scales and cause wear and tear to the inside. In fact, chances of a runespoor eating itself off were greater than being killed by a witch or wizard. He glanced at the single scale with slight whitening around the edges, the exact same place where the purple spell had hit her, and the rage threatened to overwhelm him again.
“She’s fine,” said Scamander, walking up to him. For a moment Harry thought Hecate would attack him, but instead the snake cooed in delight as Newt began rubbing the scales with a feather-light touch. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the man was giving Hecate the snake-equivalent of a skin massage.
“The whiteness is temporary,” said Newt. “Give it a day or two, and it will be back to the usual shade. I imagine she’s been feeding on the basilisk meat?”
Harry nodded.
“Good. Keep that for her. Runespoors tend to moult as many as five times in the first year. The little girl will need a lot of nutrition to grow strong and healthy. Give her a year, and she’ll surprise you with her size.”
“It’s already six feet,” claimed Mr. Patil. “I’d say it’s already growing quite big.”
Newt laughed. “The runespoor I took care of grew to a nasty fifty feet.”
“Are you also a parselmouth?”
“No,” Newt laughed. “You’ll find that you don’t need to speak a creature’s language to bond with it. A little friendliness goes a long way. They already live their lives in constant danger, as it is, surrounded by the most heinous creatures on the planet..”
“Like what?” repeated Patil, confused.
Newt laughed. “Why, humans, of course.”
He turned to Harry. “We’ll have to make sure that she spends adequate time learning to hunt and live on her own. Dumbledore, weren’t you telling me that the Acromantula colony in the forest has grown out of proportion? With your permission, I’d like to set Hecate on Acromantula duty.”
Harry snorted. Hagrid would be thrilled.
“Acromantula,” hissed the right head. “FOOD!”
“FOOD!” agreed the left and middle head as well.
“We should eat the Speaker’s tribe too. Their spells can’t harm us.” offered the left.
“Foolery you indulge in,” spat the right head. “Those can hear you, dunderhead. I smell snake in them.”
“Snake?” hissed the left. “Yes. Nasty, little thief. Sand-crawling, venom-laden, slithering little thief.”
“You mean her?” Harry asked, looking at Caroline. “She’s an animagus. A rattlesnake.”
“Umm, Mr. Potter,” asked Caroline slowly. “Why is your pet looking at me like that?”
All three heads hissed.
Harry winced. “Sorr—” he coughed, realising that he was still hissing. “Sorry about that. Hecate doesn’t like being called a pet.”
“Yes. You are our pet, Speaker,” claimed the left head.
“Am I now?”
“Yes,” claimed the middle head. “You look after us. You feed us. You let us sleep on your shoulder, and we will protect you when we get large and mighty.”
“Pet,” the right one concluded.
Harry chuckled.
“Please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks that was creepy as fuck?” asked Patil.
“No,” muttered Daphne. “You’re most definitely not.”
“Mister Potter,” said Nicholas Flamel, “While the others are doing their job, do you mind if we speak in private for a while?”
Harry frowned. Nicholas Flamel wanted to speak to him in private? Was it about the Stone? Dumbledore had mentioned that Flamel was the largest purchaser for the basilisk ingredients, a whopping sixty percent for an equally insane monetary figure, but he doubted the man wanted to talk to him about it.
“Uh, sure, I guess.”
Daphne automatically began to walk towards him, but this time Joshua held her in check. “No,” said the man. “That’s his private business.”
“But father, I’m his—”
“Fiance or otherwise,” said Joshua, a hint of sternness in his tone. “It’s his private business.”
Daphne looked like she wanted to refute but one look at her father’s face and she consented. “Fine.”
Harry looked at Joshua and then at Flamel before gesturing towards one of the empty rooms he knew existed on the far south. He didn’t know what they were for, but Tom Riddle had used them as a study room of sorts. The more he came to know the Chamber, the more he wondered if Riddle had a permanent time-turner for himself, given the time he spent inside the Chamber.
“There are a couple of empty rooms in that direction. If you want, we can go talk there, sir.”
“There will be no need for that, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you’d like to give this old man a tour of this place? My occlusion bubble will take care of the rest.”
He shrugged. “If that’s what you want, sir.”
The two of them began walking past the endless tunnels of the vast, subterranean chamber. The Chamber of Secrets, as he had found out, was actually one massive vault sitting deep beneath the Black Lake, which was why Salazar had coined it as the Sunken Vault, one of the five Hidden vaults located within Hogwarts. Each vault was supposed to be hiding a great secret, guarded by horrors beyond imagination. Given that the Chamber was guarded by a freaking basilisk, Harry had some idea what kind of horrors the others contained.
The more he learned about things, the more he wondered if the Founders wanted Hogwarts to be a school or a military garrison.
“You are playing a dangerous game, Mr. Potter,” said Nicholas Flamel as he walked next to Harry. “You should be more careful.”
Harry frowned, wondering what the man could have possibly meant. He had felt the occlusion bubble form around them, so they weren’t going to be eavesdropped. “I know. It was stupid and reckless of me to react like that. In my defence, I didn’t think they’d attack Hecate like that.”
“Oh we both know I’m not talking about that,” said Flamel casually. “That said, it was an impressive piece of thaumaturgy. I noticed that the spells went out of existence. You realise that your power breaks the laws of magic, don’t you?”
Harry grimaced. “Yes. I’ve been told that before.” He glanced at the Alchemist warily. “Uh, sir, what game are you talking about?”
Nicholas Flamel muttered something to himself in a language he didn’t understand and shook his head. “I cannot decide,” he said, “whether you’re truly the most magnificent liar I have ever encountered in my life — or if you’re truly as ignorant as you appear.”
Harry blinked at him. Twice.
Flamel burst into a laugh that was as rich and deep as his speaking voice but… more, somehow. Harry couldn’t explain it in words but the sound of that laugh was filled with a warmth that made the very air quiver with it, as if it had welled up from some untapped well of unrestrained joy. It reminded him of sitting with Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor Common Room, having treacle tart. It reminded him of catching his first snitch, of the moment when Sirius had offered him to come live with him.
It also made him want to gag and snarl in frustration.
“Call me ignorant,” he said. “Everyone does.”
Flamel stared at him intently. “Ignorant then. Tell me, Mr. Potter, do you really understand what this place is?”
“The Chamber of —”
“I speak of the lair that you’ve so casually taken control of. Do you understand your duty, Warden?”
Comments
Akinola Ologunde
Oh oh “Warden” 🥶, Harry is about to be lectured AGAIN about his newest bout of foolishness/dumb luck.
Nathaniel Scurry
No shoot magic at snek 🐍
