At least the next Nine chapters are available on my pat reon. The link is at the bottom of the page.
Thank you to my Hero Patrons, Cory A Cinquini and Stewart Baird.
Thank you to my Superhero Patrons, Conradt Moore, Simic Magic and Bethel Ekoh. Thank you for all your support.
Thank you to my Legendary Hero Patrons, Caimbeul, Paul and COnnner23244. Thank you for your immense support.
Thank you to my Galactic Hero Patrons Luis Barreda, TheBerryMan, OettamLass, Milo Farrell, Greatestkhan, Noname, Daniel Reis, Jason Lopez, Torrent, Logan mills, Friendly ghost, BYMZ, Daoist Mufasa, Hassan Nur, Meep_Meep, aquylyne, Clocker and Parzivel. Thank you for your extraordinary support.
Thank you to my Mystic Hero Patron Spoder man, Mandy Germain, Overlord susanoo, Ior, Pablo, Prince Acheampong, Luci alarri, Poke and Copinsa. I can't thank you enough for your support.
Thank you all for your support. I truly appreciate it.
If you wish to become a supporter: "DragonField", on pat reon.
Or use the link at the bottom.
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Disclaimer: If you recognise it, surprise, I don't own it.
Chapter 51- Beware.
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Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: "I smell blood... I SMELL BLOOD!" His stomach lurched
"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps. Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ron and Hermione panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last deserted passage.
"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything..." But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.
"Look!" Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been drawn on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. The chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.
"What's that thing hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice. As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped. There was a large puddle of water on the floor. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realised what it was at once and leapt backwards with a splash.
Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. However, what truly took their attention was the distraught face of Argus Filch, the caretaker himself. The frozen face. Filch was standing there next to his cat, his face a mixture of despair as well as horror as he looked at them, completely still. For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."
"Shouldn't we try and help ?" Harry began awkwardly, finding it very obvious that something was wrong here. And feeling two contrasting things: wanting to help as well as wanting to get as far away as possible.
"Trust me," said Ron. "We don't want to be found here." But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people. In the next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.
The chatter, the bustle, and the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat and the still form of the school caretaker. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone in the middle of the corridor as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.
Then someone shouted through the quiet. "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat. Though his expression dimmed at the sight of the caretaker before brightening once again a second later.
"Out of the way! What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Gilderoy Lockhart came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs Norris, his face looking on with seriousness, and then his gaze flicked to Filch, at which point he looked like he was in shock.
"The cat I-? Filch? What's happened to these two?" Professor Lockhart shouted, looking around at everyone. And then his eyes fell on Harry. "You!" He began. "Harry! What happened here! Tell me exactly! Don't miss out a single detail-"
"Gilderoy!" Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. "Perhaps we shouldn't be doing this in front of the students." In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. And then he flicked his wand at Filch, levitating the man into the air, which was off-putting as the man was still frozen stiff.
"Come with me, Gildeory," he said to the blonde Professor. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger." Professor Lockhart interjected here, moving to lead the way. "My office is nearest, Headmaster. We should try and figure this out and resolve it as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore. The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking strangely worried and serious, hurried after Dumbledore. So did Professors McGonagall and Snape. As they entered Lockhart's darkened office, there was a flicker of lights as the Professor flicked his wand and brightened the room before conjuring forth two tables, a small one and a big one. Dumbledore lay Mrs Norris on the small polished surface and Filch on the other before beginning to examine them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs on the edge of the room, watching.
The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur, and then he felt along the rim of Filch's nose. He was looking at them both closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was patiently waiting behind all of them, watching pensively.
"I only came upon the scene after the many students had found it. I was trying to ascertain exactly what had happened before you arrived, Headmaster. From my perspective, these three were the closest to the... bodies. I assumed they were the first upon the scene.' Lockhart's comments were punctuated by the cold silence as the other Professors listened on without saying anything. As much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he would feel for himself if Dumbledore believed Harry was to be blamed, he would be expelled for sure. All the other students were looking at him as if he had done it.
Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand, but nothing happened. She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed. When Dumbledore turned his attention to Filch, he also remained much the same. "I have never seen anything like this before." said Lockhart, " It seems to be somewhat similar in effect to the full body bind curse in that it completely freezes the victim." Professor Snape and McGonagall look at him astounded.
"But, the victim in this case seems to be completely frozen stiff, with no signs of life. In fact, they are cold to the touch, unnaturally so. So I assume that this must also be an effect of whatever happened to them. This seems much too potent to be from a simple spell." The blonde Professor continues, but no one responds to him, Snape and McGonagall not knowing what to say to that and Dumbledore focusing on the bodies.
The silence continued for a few moments more before, at last, Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, and neither is Argus," he said softly. At his words, everybody looked at the bodies, finding that difficult to believe, though Lockhart nodded his head slightly in agreement.
"Not dead?" choked Ron, freezing up when everybody looked at him before deciding to continue. "But why are they all- all stiff and frozen?" He questioned.
"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore, touching the bodies once more, pressing against Filch's skin and showing its solid state. "But how I cannot say..."
"Perhaps we should ask Potter? " Spoke Snape menacingly, turning his cold and cruel face to Harry. "Lockhart did state that he was caught at the scene." Harry got a sick feeling in his stomach. Snape was picking him out again, especially as Lockhart mentioned Hermione and Ron as well, but Snape ignored that.
"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced -"
"Still, the boy was there first!" Snape spat, his dark eyes narrowing on Harry. "He was there before anyone else, which is highly coincidental! Surely, we should question him on what happened." Snape sneered at Harry. "And how he happened to find himself there." he finished.
"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including even his friends, no doubt thinking of him hearing voices. "You can ask Professor Lockhart. He will tell you!"
"And what will he tell us?" Snarled Snape. "All I am hearing is excuses, Potter. How about some actual details!" Snape was beginning to lose his temper. Usually, his cruelty was cold and overbearing, but something seems to have made him a lot more volatile today.
"If I might speak, Headmaster," Began Professor Lockhart from the side, and Harry's sense of foreboding increased. He was sure Lockhart was about to come to his rescue but also, at the same moment, doom him. He will reveal that Harry has been hearing voices that no one else has, which will definitely make everybody think he is crazy.
.
"Harry and his two friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight awkward curling of his mouth suggested that he partly doubted that. Snape interjected himself here.
"But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?" Harry, Ron and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the deathday party. "...There were hundreds of ghosts. They will tell you we were there. Professor Lockhart was there as well-"
"But why not join the feast afterwards?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. Harry was about to answer and say they were on their way when Snape spoke again before he could. "Why go up to that corridor?" Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, and Harry found himself looking at Professor Lockhart, waiting for the man to expose him hearing things. But he didn't. He merely looked back silently.
"Because- because-" Harry said, his heart thumping very fast. Something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear, "because we were tired and wanted to go to bed," he said.
"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face. "I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties." Somehow, Snape knew about the disgusting food that the ghosts prepared. Harry wondered if Snape didn't have any friends when he attended Hogwarts and had to hang out with all the ghosts. It would make sense; only people who were already dead could bear his presence.
"We weren't hungry," said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble. Harry could only turn to look at his friend in shock. That he would say such a thing and then have his stomach rumble at the exact same moment. Could he possibly have worse timing? Ron avoided Harry's eyes, his face completely red. When Harry turned his sight back to Snape, he could only see the big nasty grin on the man's face.
"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready, to be honest." Snape really went for his weak point. Everybody knew how much Harry loved to play Quidditch. They could see it on his face when he flew. Once again, Harry questioned why this man had it out for him.
"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. They both weren't hit over the head with a broomstick. This is high-level dark magic, which I highly doubt Mr Potter is capable of. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed.
"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly, bringing an end to the matter. McGonagall looked pleased, while Gilderoy didn't show anything on his face. In direct contrast to the both of them, however, Snape looked furious.
"The Hogwarts caretaker has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "We need to do an investigation and punish the people responsible!"
"This will be investigated. And the correct people will be punished. Until then... We will be able to cure Argus and Mrs Norris." said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive the both of them." This time, he looked at Snape and stopped the man in his steps, preventing any further arguments.
"That is correct." Lockhart butted in. "I had the pleasure of helping Profesor Sprout with them, and the woman knows her stuff. I am sure she will be able to bring those Mandrakes up nicely and prepare the Mandrake Restorative Potion." He says, helping calm Harry's heart. Nobody had died, and it looked like Harry would not be blamed for any of this.
"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school." There was a very awkward pause then. "Ah, yes, of course. I am sure with a Potions master like you on the case, these two will be back to healthy in no time. We can rest assured with you on the case, Severus." At Lockhart's words, Snape cringed. It looked like he would rather he didn't say anything in the first place.
"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. And they took the opportunity for what it was: an opportunity to escape. They went as quickly as they could without actually running. And then, when they were finally a floor up from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Harry squinted at his friends' darkened faces.
"Do you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" Harry asked, looking worried. He wondered if he had let something crucial out, something that could have helped the professors to find whoever had done this to the caretaker and his cat. The more Harry thought about it, the worse he felt.
"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world. You will be lucky if they think you are simply mad and not anything worse." Harry feared to ask what the worse options were here. Worse than everybody thinking you were crazy? Harry could only surmise a possible mental institution, but he had never heard about one in the magical world.
Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?" Harry didn't know what he would do if even his friends began to think he was crazy. Harry really did not want to be mad. He had enough of that at the Dursleys, where every time something strange and unexplainable would happen, he would be shouted at, punished and told magic was not real.
"Of course we do, Harry. Still, hearing things that others can't is definitely worrying. We should try to figure out what this is before involving anybody else." Hermione said, wrapping him in a hug and reassuring him.
"'Course I do," Ron added quickly. "But, you must admit it's weird..." He awkwardly reached out, patting Harry on his shoulder.
"I know it's weird," said Harry. "The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened... What's that supposed to mean?" Harry didn't mention that it was written in blood either since he would rather not think about where that blood had come from. He just hoped it wasn't from Mrs Norris or Filch.
"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once... It might have been my brother Bill. Or it could have been Fred and George trying to scare me." Ron rubbed his nose in thought.
"Also, why didn't Lockhart say anything?" said Harry. It was very weird how the man hadn't mentioned to the other Professors the voices Harry was hearing. And Harry had heard them twice in front of Lockhart.
"Isn't it obvious? Professor Lockhart knew you weren't to blame Harry and that pointing out the voices you were hearing would make you suspect number one." Hermione said enthusiastically. "He must want to focus on finding the real culprit, and that is why he didn't reveal it, so the other professors didn't waste their time investigating you." She finished with a bright smile.
"Yeah, I'm sure that was what he was doing." To Harry's surprise, Ron managed to stifle his snigger. "I'm sure it is not because the man is an idiot, and he probably just forgot about it. Or didn't think it was anything worth mentioning." He shook his head at Hermione.
"Ron!" Hermione said, scandalised, but before she could say anything else, a clock chimed, signalling the time. "Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."
And so they quickly headed back to the Gryffindor common rooms.
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I want to talk more with you guys, so I am leaving little notes like this at the end of each chapter.
I will be playing Hogwarts Legacy within the next week on my Twitch and then editing and uploading to YouTube soon, so keep an eye out for that if it interests you. It should help me with some more ideas for this fic. The links can be found through the link at the bottom.
Now, on the subject of my health. The blisters and infections are all gone, but they did basically kill all the skin there, and it has all fallen away piece by piece. Really dry and brittle it was. Now, there is raw and soft skin underneath, and my hands can start healing and soon grow new skin. It will take a while, but my hands will be fine soon enough. Which is a massive relief.
If you want to chat more about this or any other topic, come to my Discord through the link.
The link to everything you need and my patronage:
https://linktr. ee/dragonfield
(Remover the space between the dot and the ee)
That is all for now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I will see you in the next one!
Stay safe, and have fun!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
At least the next Nine chapters are available on my pat reon. The link is at the bottom of the page.
Thank you to my Hero Patrons, Cory A Cinquini and Stewart Baird.
Thank you to my Superhero Patrons, Conradt Moore, Simic Magic and Bethel Ekoh. Thank you for all your support.
Thank you to my Legendary Hero Patrons, Caimbeul and COnnner23244. Thank you for your immense support.
Thank you to my Galactic Hero Patrons Luis Barreda, TheBerryMan, OettamLass, Milo Farrell, Greatestkhan, Noname, Daniel Reis, Jason Lopez, Torrent, Logan mills, Friendly ghost, BYMZ, Daoist Mufasa, Hassan Nur, Meep_Meep, aquylyne, Clocker, Parzivel, MaliMi and Paul. Thank you for your extraordinary support.
Thank you to my Mystic Hero Patron Spoder man, Mandy Germain, Overlord susanoo, Ior, Pablo, Prince Acheampong, Luci alarri, Poke, Copinsa and Badr Sbaghi. I can't thank you enough for your support.
Thank you all for your support. I truly appreciate it.
If you wish to become a supporter: "DragonField", on pat reon.
Or use the link at the bottom.
------------------------------------
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, surprise, I don't own it.
Chapter 52- Bearings.
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Well, fuck...
That was... not what I thought would happen. In fact, that was very much not even a possibility in my mind. I expected for Mrs Norris to be nailed to that wall next to the blood-written message, but when I worked my way through that crowd to see Harry and his two buddies standing there, there was someone else I didn't account for. Filch.
Fucking Filch. He was there, stiff as a board, just as petrified as his cat was. From what I could make out and a lot of assumptions, Ginny had gotten the Basilisk to go after the cat and, once petrified, hung it up before using the blood she had procured from somewhere to write the message. Enemies of The Heir Beware. Things up to this point were fine and as expected, but something must have gone wrong here.
I assume that at this point, Filch came along and, seeing his cat, ran to her and tried to get her off the wall. And then something, maybe a noise, made him turn around, and he got petrified. How, I don't know. Maybe he saw its reflection in the water just like his cat or caught a glimpse in the reflection of some glass. Either way, the dude ended up petrified, luckily not managing to die. And that has completely whacked things out of process for me.
I remember seeing Ginny's face in the crowd, and she was as pale as anything, more than a Weasley should be. She looked very bad, and I had a feeling that it was because of what happened. But unlike canon, this time, an actual person was involved, so she should feel worse than that. Maybe she has already gotten rid of the diary in horror. Maybe some other poor soul has already picked it up, meaning Harry won't find it. Maybe she won't even try to get it back since it hasn't had enough time to be addictive. Shit, everything is going off the rails...
Okay, calm down, Gilderoy. Let's think this through, and from there, we can figure out what we need to do next. Talking in the third person always helps. Okay. So, things have happened that are at all following the canon I knew. Ergo, I can no longer rely on that information at all, as it could result in serious death or injury, as it did for Filch. Alright, with the safety net of knowledge gone, I am stuck in this castle with a massive snake that can kill with a gaze, and even if that doesn't work, it can bite and eat me whole.
So, how can I prevent this? First of all, I could quit my job and run away from the castle, ruining my reputation and forever impacting all of my business and ongoings henceforth. That option is out, and not just because of the consequences, but because I refuse to run away. You run away once, then you will always run away. Especially when it matters the most.
So, option number 2 and my only option really is staying as a teacher in this school and finding a way to deal with having a Basilisk in the same space as me. Now, that is either option 2a, where I try to avoid contact at all costs, basically being on guard at all times and making as many precautions as possible to survive and let Harry and pals deal with this, even if the canon is kind of shot. I can't trust this, as, as I just said, canon is shot, and so I can't rely on Harry saving the day.
This means option 2b, or let's just call it option 3, is my only available avenue. Which is to go after this fucker before he can get me. To prepare and steady myself for combat to murder this fucker before I walk around the wrong corner at night and die. However, I can't just murder the thing. I need to do so in such a way that Harry will have access to the venom and fang of the Basilisk, as well as getting his hands on the sword of Gryffindor and have the sword absorb the venom.
That way, Harry can use them to destroy the other Horcruxes in the future. Otherwise, I will have to go out of my way to go and destroy them, and I don't have plot armour, so I don't want to do that. I'll probably get done in by the curse on the ring because I am a greedy person. I know what I am about. I also know I really don't want to go and fight a Basilisk straight on.
So my best option here would be option number 4. which is a mix of options 2 and 3. So, I will take as many precautions as possible to avoid the Basilisk while at the same time preparing myself to skin that slimy, wingless dragon. And hopefully, I will survive before the year is up... I am really questioning whether that Defence Against the Dark Arts curse is the thing that is doing this to me.
... now I just have to find out as much as I can.
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For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs Norris and Filch, and it was kept fresh in everyone's minds by the professors sporadically patrolling the spot where they had been attacked as though the attacker might come back. The words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. I guess without Filch around, no one was actually cleaning up the big messes. The one thing really making everybody feel it was the glaring fact that Filch wasn't there. Like it or not, the man was part of the Hogwarts experience, and people were used to him. Without him on the prowl, everybody felt off.
With my mind on dealing with this new situation, I realised the thing I needed the most was information. On Ginny, on Harry and on the situation as a whole. I need as much information as I can get my hands on so it can help me with my moves going forward. What happened in the time I left those three and the time I found them at the scene? What is going on with them now? Which is why I am once again being a creepy listening teacher.
From my place at the teacher's table, I looked over at the Gryffindor table. Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs Norris and Filch's fate. She wasn't talking to anybody and just ate her food, looking very quiet. Ron, her brother, was obviously worried about her, thinking she was upset about the incident. And obviously, he didn't think anybody could be upset over Filch's state. According to Ron, Ginny was a great cat lover.
"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Snape as well before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.
The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, only occasionally at the dinner table, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out. I used some mind magic to help me get all the information I needed and found out what they had been up to. And I need information, but why do the research myself when there is a studious muggle-born who can't help herself to do it all for me. So, I read some memories.
Harry had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, he went upstairs to meet Ron in the library and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. Harry had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.
Harry found Ron at the back of the library, measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three-foot-long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards."
"I don't believe it. I'm still eight inches short," said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches, and her writing's tiny." Yeah, I don't much appreciate that when I have to mark the assignments. Why can't she just be like the other kids and write in size 24?
"Where is she?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework. Seriously, these kids measure how much work they have done. Why can't I just use a word amount? But no, when I tried, I got complaints, and McGonagall told me off.
"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."
Harry told Ron about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him. "Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great." Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and, at last, seemed ready to talk to them.
"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books." Yeah, I made twice the amount of money off of her. She bought the originals and the school versions.
"Why do you want it?" said Harry.
"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."
"What's that?" said Harry quickly.
"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else."
"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch. This usually works for him because I notice his work sometimes has words that are much too big for him to know at this point in his life.
"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it." She says that, but some more nagging, and she'll give in.
"I only need another two inches, come on -" The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to their History of Magic class, bickering. Alright, now let's see if anything is different because the next bit is where they learn about the Chamber of Secrets. This is also why I decided to use this method instead of attending the class myself, because who could be bothered to sit through all the boringness.
History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shrivelled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff room fire. His routine had not varied in the slightest since.
Today was as dull as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand.
Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed. "Miss... er-?" He stopped, not knowing her name. I bet he doesn't actually know anybody in this school's name, with Dumbledore being a fifty percent chance.
"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice. Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance. Lavender Brown's head (I don't mean to be a weird guy, but this girl is growing up a lot quicker than the other kids) came up off her arms, and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off his desk.
Professor Binns blinked. "My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a slight noise like chalk scratching and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers-"
He stuttered to a halt when Hermione's hand once more waved in the air again. "Miss Grant?" He said, getting the name wrong. Even though he had just got it right a moment before, he had already gone to reset to his normal mode.
"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?" Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement I was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead. This was a first for him in the last couple hundred years, probably.
"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "Yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale." But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. You could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.
"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see... the Chamber of Secrets..." He tried to recall, a ghosty finger on his chin. "You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago, though the precise date is uncertain, by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."
He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued. "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."
Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise. "Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden Chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing."
He continued. "Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic." There was silence as he finished telling the story. Still, it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more.
Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed. "The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber many times by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."
Hermione's hand was back in the air. "Sir? What exactly do you mean by the `horror within' the Chamber?"
"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.
The class exchanged nervous looks. "I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."
"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"
"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. Clearly, this man doesn't pay attention to any of the students. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing-"
"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it."
Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns, getting another name wrong. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore-"
"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't-" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.
"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!" And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.
"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home." Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything.
Alright, so the lore of the Chamber of Secrets and other stuff I checked out while in their minds is the same. Things just changed with Filch also getting petrified, which I can only assume is because of my presence.
...I guess I might as well fuck shit up even more. In for a penny, in for a pound.
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I want to talk more with you guys, so I am leaving little notes like this at the end of each chapter.
I have started to play through Hogwarts Legacy on my Tiwtch, and we are still near the beginning. So come and watch if that interests you; the link is down below. Also, I will edit the footage down to just the essential and funny bits, which you can watch instead on my YouTube. That will come out every day at the same time, beginning on January 20th. So go subscribe if you want the edited down experience Hogwarts Legacy experience.
Now, on the subject of my health. I am doing a lot better, but still not one hundred percent. My hands are good, not hurting anymore, but the skin is still gone, so I have taken to wearing cotton gloves to keep them clean and nice. Don't want an infection again. My skin is doing alright. It shouldn't be long before I can start writing my other stories again for those who also read them. A minimum of two or so weeks I would say, and then From The Smoke and Amarrilo's Pirate Adventure will resume.
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That is all for now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I will see you in the next one!
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