Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Chapter 9: Picnic Priorities

Harry knows Hermione.

He knows when her mind is caught up in a thinking spiral. He doesn’t need telepathy to know that the morning’s events in the lab are occupying her thoughts as they follow the path down to Black Lake and amble along its shoreline away from the castle towards Hoggle Forest.

The events of the morning are also occupying his mind.

He’d woken up early and left the bed rather than disturb Hermione. Truthfully, he’d been anxious about examining the lab, but he hasn’t slept well since the visit to the Department of Mysteries and the new prophecies.

He’s heartily sick of prophecy and being chosen.

Not that he’d wish being Voldemort’s prophesised nemesis on anyone. Baby Neville will be born at the end of July and, if any part of Merlin’s magic failed in capturing him, Harry has no doubt that they’d be a prophecy with Neville’s name on it no matter the idea that it is always Harry who is chosen.

He shakes the thought away and glances to his side where Hermione walks, her gaze somewhere in the middle distance and probably seeing something in her own head.

Godric runs ahead before running back only to run ahead and run back in an endless loop. He’s thrilled to be out of the castle and into the surprisingly warm May sunshine. He’s enthralled by the butterflies and the bees buzzing the wildflowers at the edge of the path.

Harry takes a deep breath, his fingers clenching around the handle of the picnic basket. The first scent which hits him is the forest with its brown and green tones of nature, pine and dirt, leaves and grass, the flowers providing a cacophony of gentle perfume over the top. The lake is second with its dank notes of stagnant water; moss and algae providing a cover to the water below.

The Giant Squid raises a tentacle far across the water from their walk.

“Do you think the Giant Squid was a familiar?” Harry asks out loud.

Hermione jerks, almost stumbling in her step. “What?”

“The Giant Squid,” Harry repeats amused, “I was wondering if he might have been a familiar of the Founders.”

Hermione breathes in deeply, pulling herself back to the present from wherever her mind wandered. “Maybe. Magical creatures are long lived. It is possible.” She glances out to the lake and the still waving tentacle. “I always thought he’d been put there as a security measure.”

“Drown an attack coming at Hogwarts from the water?” Harry nods. “I can see that.”

“None of the founders had a squid as an emblem of their House either,” Hermione comments.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Do you think that they based the House representations on their familiars?”

Hermione pushes her loose hair back, tucking it behind an ear. “Maybe, although a honey badger is a strange familiar.” She shrugs. “Jeffrey Pinking theorised in ’The Unauthorised Biography of Hogwarts’ Founders’ that the animal representations were their animagus forms. I think that’s much more likely.”

“Makes sense,” Harry says. “I remember Sirius saying that the animagus form is meant to be an external manifestation of your inner self.”

“When did he say that?” asks Hermione, her brow wrinkling.

Harry pats Godric as he pushes against for a quick touch before running off again. “It was in one of his letters to me the summer after the tournament. I’d asked him about becoming an animagus since everyone was clearly not communicating anything else to me.”

Hermione winces.

“Anyway,” Harry says hurriedly, not wanting Hermione to feel she needs to apologise again, “he told me about how he had achieved it. He said it might be useful for me to try to achieve it too and that was when he warned that the animal within might not be what I wanted it to be or even useful.”

“Did you ever try?” asks Hermione.

Harry shakes his head. “I didn’t dare risk it at the Dursleys and once I was Grimmauld, there was the trial and homework and Molly making us all clean the house…” he shrugs. “Once Sirius died, I kind of gave up on the idea.”

“I tried to do the first meditation once,” Hermione admits.

Harry’s not really surprised by her confession but he wonders why she’s never said anything before about trying.

“It didn’t go well,” Hermione says, answering his unspoken question. “I couldn’t settle into it. I kept thinking things.”

“I’m shocked,” Harry teases her.

She pushes him softly, making him lurch sideways as they grin at each other.

“Maybe it’s something we should consider doing over the summer,” Hermione says. “James would probably jump at the chance to help us.”

Harry nods. “Sirius too.”

“What’s the betting Minerva will want in when she hears we’ve asked them?” Hermione laughs.

Harry smiles at Minerva’s likely reaction.

He spots a good place just ahead for their picnic lunch and points towards it. “How about there?”

It’s a grassy circle bordered by reeds and plants just a couple of steps off the path. The lake laps gently at the edge of it.

Hermione beams at him. “Looks good.”

They hurry towards it, Godric barking at their sudden spurt of speed.

Hermione conjures a red and gold tartan blanket and Harry puts down the large wicker basket of food the elves had given him.

Hermione sits down and starts to unpack; parchment wrapped sandwiches, chunks of ham and egg pie, a fresh side salad, and an insulated tub of potato wedges still piping hot. Small individual bottles of homemade lemonade accompany the food to wash it all down.

“Looks like they’ve given us some scones and jam for dessert,” Hermione says. She shifts to a cross-legged position across from him and picks up a sandwich.

Harry stretches his legs out in front of him and chooses a sandwich from the pile left. He unwraps it and gives a pleased hum at the sight of coronation chicken. His stomach growls at the smell of fragrant fruity curry and he bites in enthusiastically.

They both demolish their first sandwiches in silence, focused on their food.

Godric plonks himself to the side of Harry and looks on hopefully as Harry picks up a second and Hermione chooses the pie.

The second sandwich filling is roast beef with a light horseradish dressing. Harry tears off some of the beef and gives it to the eager grim.

“You spoil him,” Hermione notes with an admonishing look.

“Not as much as you spoil Crookshanks,” Harry points out dryly. The kneazle hadn’t been in their suite when they’d gone to retrieve Godric and organise the picnic. Harry wonders if Crooks is still visiting the cat out by the stables.

Hermione rolls her eyes at him but doesn’t argue about spoiling her familiar. She swallows a mouthful of pie and gestures to him with her free hand. “What did you think of this morning?”

Harry chews his bite slowly and considers his answer. He swallows and sips his drink before replying. “The whole thing felt odd to me. I mean, why didn’t the Aurors do the reversal spell once the forensics were done?”

“Possibly because they couldn’t do what you did,” Hermione says dryly. “The reversal spell is usually to fix small broken ornaments or furniture. It isn’t meant for a whole room.”

Harry feels heat rise in his face. He takes another bite of sandwich.

Hermione shakes her head at him fondly. “Only you, Harry.” She pauses. “Maybe Dumbledore if he had the Elder wand.”

Harry sighs. He hates when his magic does something unusual. He had wondered why everyone had looked so surprised and says as much.

Hermione picks off some crust and waves at him with it, unaware that Godric’s head follows every shift of her hand. “Aurelius wasn’t surprised so much as speculative.”

“I would have gone with creepy,” Harry passes Godric some more roast beef to prevent him lunging for the pie.

“That too,” Hermione agrees. “Pettigrew looked furious.”

Harry grimaces. “He hates me.”

“I think he hates anyone who isn’t a Mischief Maker,” Hermione says dryly.

Harry chuckles at her jibe. “He probably loves his Mum?”

Hermione laughs.

“We should be careful with him,” Harry says as his amusement fades. “When Wormtail felt pushed into a corner, he went to Voldemort and betrayed my family.”

“You’re right,” Hermione says, “but I have no idea how we convince Pettigrew that we’re not stealing James away.”

Because they clearly were stealing James away.

Harry gives the last of his sandwich to Godric and reaches for his slice of pie. “Is Pettigrew why you didn’t stay with Team Potions?”

Hermione’s lip curve and her eyes sparkle with delight. “Team Potions! That’s hilarious.” She shakes her head. “I mean, I wouldn’t be thrilled at the idea of spending a lot of time with him or with Snape and Horace, but it’s not about them really.”

He nods.

She discards her plate and picks up her lemonade. “Don’t you think it’s too easy?”

“Nothing about this has been easy,” counters Harry. “Protecting the unicorns felt ten times easier than this.”

Hermione acknowledges that with a raise of her lemonade bottle. “I just can’t shake the feeling that potions is too obvious an answer.”

Harry can see what she means. The lab, the potion equipment and ingredients, the message which aligns to suggest a potion. It doesn’t resolve how if the right potion is created the entrance would be revealed but he assumes Slytherin has imbued some kind of spell into the equipment.

Maybe.

“You know the first thought I had when I read the parchment was that the chamber was Slytherin’s Knight of Avalon mission,” Hermione murmurs, staring down at her drink. “I think that’s important but then the message on the blackboard only talks about his legacy and we know it isn’t parseltongue so I can see why everyone assumes it has to be potions.”

Harry nods slowly. “I thought the same reading the parchment.”

“Somehow, I think the hidden places were meant to provide something for us,” Hermione says. “Maybe that’s stupid.”

“I think it’s a good deduction,” Harry says. He brushes the crumbs of the pie from his robe and contemplates it fully. “I think they were tasked with creating places to hide things. Maybe they’re for us, but maybe they’re for any Knight of Avalon.”

Hermione’s face distorts into a soft scowl at that idea. “Do you think the Gryffindor sword is one of the things hidden?”

“Maybe,” Harry says. “I know Charlus doesn’t have it. He did say that there records of the Potters being able to call it to them in times of need.”

“So, if the Founders were tasked with creating hidden places with things to help Knights of Avalon, we know Gryffindor created his hidden place to hide the sword,” Hermione frowns. “We know Rowena Ravenclaw created the Room of Requirement which literally gives us anything we ask within its walls.”

“Things used to disappear though outside of the room,” Harry reminds her.

“It may be different here,” Hermione counters. “Or maybe things only disappear if you aren’t a Knight.”

“Like our sword only appeared to someone who showed true loyalty to the Headmaster and Hogwarts,” Harry thinks aloud.

“Could you call this one to you?” asks Hermione, leaning forward.

Harry picks up his lemonade and takes a gulp as he thinks about it. “Maybe. But I think I’d have to be in danger and I’d have to know what calls it here. Is it loyalty to the school? If it’s to Dumbledore, I’m probably going to fail completely.”

Hermione grimaces but nods. “It’s a shame we don’t know what room Gryffindor created. We could just go there and get the sword.”

Harry stares at her. “We do know where Gryffindor hid it. It’s in the school’s Sorting hat.”

Hermione’s mouth drops open. She slaps her free hand over her eyes and groans. “Places, not rooms. They created places.”

“If you think about it, Gryffindor putting his place right in plain sight is, well, very Gryffindor,” Harry teases lightly.

“If you mean completely reckless, I agree,” Hermione lets her hand fall away. “I can’t believe I didn’t get that!”

Harry shrugs. “I have the advantage of having lived through the Hat dropping on me so I could pull the sword out.”

Hermione sighs heavily and rubs her forehead. “I think the itchy spot in the family magic is distracting me.”

Harry frowns, his brow creasing. He pushes his glasses back up his nose. “What itchy spot?”

“You don’t feel it?” asks Hermione, her eyes widening at his question.

He quickly checks, scanning the family magic within him. All his family are present and accounted for; there is no spot he can detect. He shakes his head.

Hermione sighs heavily. “Maybe something’s gone awry with my connection?” She presses her lips together.

Harry reaches over and tangles their free hands together. “Hey, it’ll be fine. We’re still new to this, right?”

“You don’t seem to have any trouble with it,” Hermione points out.

He ignores the edge of accusation in her tone. It’s the same edge she had when she’d realised he was doing better than her at potions back in Sixth Year.

“I’m directly related to everyone by blood and magic.” He squeezes her fingers gently. “Honestly, I think Lily’s experience is probably the most similar to yours. She often asks me if what she’s feeling is normal.”

Hermione takes a breath and her hand squeezes his in return. “I should talk to her, I think. Maybe we’re both struggling with the same things about it.” She sighs. “I was actually going to mention it to Sirius but he ran off to update Arcturus before I could.”

Harry smiles at her disgruntlement. “I’m sure if he’d known you wanted to talk to him, he’d have stayed.”

Hermione nods. She takes a sip of her lemonade. “This is nice.” She smiles. “You, me, a picnic alone together.”

Harry raises their joined hands and kisses her knuckles. “We do more of this kind of thing.”

“I agree,” Hermione leans over and kisses him.

They unpack the dessert unhurriedly and dig into the perfect fluffy scones, the conversation drifting to the gossip of the school and the latest teenage dramas of the kids they teach.

Godric hovers closely, tracking every mouthful, his large grim eyes flitting to Harry’s with every bite. Harry carefully gives him part of his second scone ignoring Hermione’s knowing look.

They linger by the lake for a while enjoying the sunshine and the peace of their picnic spot before reluctantly packing everything up to head back to the castle.

“Do you think all the Founders’ artefacts were meant for Knights of Avalon to use?” asks Hermione, looping her arm into his as they set off back along the path. “Like Ravenclaw’s diadem, Hufflepuff’s cup and…”

“And Slytherin’s locket?” Harry finishes. He considers it as they walk a few paces. “I don’t think so for all of them? I mean the locket predates Slytherin himself. Voldemort corrupted a family heirloom when he made it a horcrux.”

“Maybe it had some other value but we didn’t realise because we were focused on the horcrux-ness of it all,” Hermione comments thoughtfully.

“Maybe,” Harry says. “I think if the diadem exists here, Rowena Ravenclaw might have intended it to help future Knights of Avalon.”

“I think Hufflepuff’s cup is the same as the locket,” Hermione muses. “I remember reading that it was an heirloom of the Hufflepuff family before Helga.”

“Maybe it’s something to explore with Sirius,” Harry says. Sirius is the History Professor and, as the Black Knight, he’s educated himself on all things Knights of Avalon.

“Sounds like a…”

The rush of anger through the family magic staggers them both. They lurch to a stop, their hands flying to their heads as rage storms through them.

Harry takes a deep breath, centres himself, and pushes the rage back carefully. It is not his. It belongs to…James. It’s unusual for James to completely lose his temper. James is usually very even-tempered and calm; he’s good-natured by default.

“Wow,” Hermione blinks. “What the hell has happened?”

“Nothing good,” Harry quips.

There is a wave of reassurance filtering through the family magic. James’ response to all the worried poking everyone is doing post rage explosion. Even the reassurance is edged with James’ continuing fury though.

Without words, Harry and Hermione speed up their return. Their focused pace sees them back at the castle in half the time they’d taken on the walk out. They make their way swiftly through the corridors back to their suite, ignoring the lingering students who amble through the passages in their own bubbles of homework, mischief and friendship.

Harry settles a little spotting Lily and James sit closely together on the sofa. Lily has both her hands wrapped around one of James’ and her attention never wavers from his face.

He isn’t surprised to also find Dorea and Charlus in their communal living room along with a freshly returned Sirius. Dorea sits in a comfortable chair across from the sofa, Charlus leans against the mantel in his usual position. They’re holding teacups and Harry registers the tray with the teapot on the coffee table in a vague kind of recognition without giving it any further thought.

“What happened?” asks Hermione without preamble, shrugging off her outer robe and throwing it on a dining chair as they pass by the table.

Harry strips out of his own robe and sends it over to join his wife’s. 

Sirius gets up from the second armchair and motions for Hermione to take it. He heads over to stand in front of the mantel on the opposite side from Charlus.

Hermione sits down and Harry perches on the arm.

James lifts his head up and looks at them apologetically. “I’m really sorry about the…” he gestures a whirly motion by his head. “I didn’t mean to swamp everyone that way.” His jaw tightens. “I lost control.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Hermione sooths, “we just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“James,” Dorea says softly. “You said you wanted to wait until Harry and Hermione arrived before talking about it. They are here now.”

James nods at his mother.

Lily pats James’ hand supportively. “Start at the beginning.”

James heaves a sigh. “So, thanks to Harry doing some insane magic this morning in Slytherin’s old lab, we think Slytherin’s test to enter the chamber needs us to create a Lealtad potion.”

Charlus frowns. “I don’t think I know that one.”

“It’s an obscure potion,” Dorea says before anyone else can reply. “It was used in the Spanish court in Elizabethan times to compel loyalty to the crown.”

Sirius nods. “Queen Elizabeth the First banned it in England when her own courtiers wanted to use it to enforce her reign. It’s a really nasty version of a loyalty potion and incredibly complicated to make by all accounts.”

“Are we sure Slytherin meant that potion as the test?” asks Charlus, concern pulling his brow down.

“We’re not sure about anything,” James admits, “but it’s the best lead we have right now.”

Charlus nods. “So, you all discovered the need to create this potion…”

“Most of the staff who attended left except for Dumbledore, Slughorn, and Lily,” James states briskly. “Snape stayed too given the potions of it all, and Peter and I stayed behind as we have the best potion scores in the Aurors currently assigned to Hogwarts.”

“Harry called you Team Potions earlier,” says Hermione brightly.

James shoots Harry a smirk. “That’s a good name.”

Lily rolls an eye at their antics. “We actually had a very productive session. Horace sent for some research on the potion and we looked over everything. Albus took responsibility for examining the lab and the equipment for further spell work since something has to trigger a judgement of the test.”

Harry nods; that makes sense.

“I suggested he ask Filius to assist him and he agreed to that too,” Lily continues. “We did examine the ingredients for spell work but there is none. Both Horace and Severus think it would be wise to replace the ingredients with fresh versions. Severus was tasked with that and James will go along with him so there is Auror oversight.”

Harry can guess how that went over with Snape.

“Horace is going to prepare some reading materials to refresh everyone on the steps to create the potion before we make an attempt,” Lily finishes. “Everyone agreed to meet back in the lab in a week’s time to go over everything.”

“But none of this made you rageful,” Dorea says to James.

“Context,” James says. “When everyone else started to leave the lab, Lily invited me back here for lunch. I agreed to come after my patrol. I thought everything was fine. Peter and I started patrolling.” He presses his lips together and his jaw tightens again.

“You and Pettigrew argued again,” Harry surmises quietly.

James gives a jerky nod. “He started complaining about you. He pointed out that you’re one of the few people with the power to cast The Assassin’s Mask. When I shut him down on that, he sniped at Sirius not sticking around to help with the potion. I pointed out he’d have only been angry if he had.”

Harry keeps silent when James pauses. They all wait for him to take a breath and continue. They can feel the flickers of anger sparking across the bond as he fights to keep his composure.

“Then, he kept making little digs about Lily,” James says, “I told him to knock it off. We went to do the handover to Ashley and Biggs. That went fine but as I went to leave, he said something completely offensive about Lily and I punched him.” He held up a hand. “I’m not going to say what he said.”

“I’m guessing he called me a first generation whore, not worth marriage just being used and discarded?” Lily says matter-of-factly. “Possibly with lewder words and terms?”

James sighs and closes his eyes briefly.

Hermione makes a soft appalled sound.

“It’s not the first time that kind of insult has been thrown at me,” Lily says to her with a shrug. “The Slytherin purebloods used to say it to me back in school all the time.”

“Peter knows we’re not at school anymore!” James says tersely before wincing. “You know what I mean!”

“Peter isn’t even of pureblood lineage himself,” Dorea sniffs imperiously. “His mother is certainly, but his late father, Michael, was first generation.” She waves a hand when James looks like he’s going to argue with her. “Not that it matters. He should know better than to use any kind of insults at all, especially about a woman you are seriously courting.”

Lily pats James’ hand again. “I appreciate your defence of me.”

“Thank you for healing my hand,” James says softly. He looks back at his parents. “Anyway, I’ve been suspended for a week and Peter’s been given a warning by Bones. He’s, uh, he’s going to take over the ingredient hunt with Snape.”

Lily’s mouth pulls down in an exaggerated frown. “It would be such a shame if Sev found out what Pettigrew said about me.”

Harry coughs a chuckle.

“Pettigrew really is an angry ball of hate right now, isn’t he?” Hermione sighs. “Harry and I were just commenting on it at lunch.”

James points at them. “You have your ‘we know something you don’t’ faces on.”

“That’s not a thing,” Hermione declares furiously.

“It is a thing!” James retorts. “Sirius back me up here!”

Hermione and Harry turn to Sirius.

Sirius sighs and folds his arms over his chest. “You really do have a look.”

Hermione throws up her hands as Charlus and Dorea smile broadly at the back and forth.

Harry lifts his hand. “All we’re going to say is that Pettigrew might do something stupid if he feels abandoned by you, James.”

“Like betray you?” Charlus states calmly. “We know someone had to betray your parents in your world, Harry.” He raises a finger. “We’ll not ask for certainty, you’ve been vague in your descriptions to date and we understand you didn’t want to bias us in our reactions to anyone. But if it was your Peter who did that, the lesson is a good one to clock.”

“If we acknowledge that events are transpiring in similar ways, it makes sense someone in our circle is going to betray us at some point,” Dorea notes sadly. “We should take care of alienating anyone and be watchful.”

James darts another look at Harry who hopes his face gives nothing away, but he has an awful sinking feeling that his face is actually giving everything away.

James sighs and rubs his chin. “I’ll give it a day and try talking with him again.” He shakes his head. “I think he’s mostly angry that only Bones got read into the War Council secrets and he and Bertie didn’t.”

“If this is the way he reacts, it’s the right decision by Scrimgeour and Moody to keep him out of it,” Charlus huffs.

James nods. “Anyway, sorry for swamping everyone with rage through the family magic.”

“Understandable rage,” Sirius comments. “If someone said something like that about Reg, I’d have decked them too.”

James’ shoulders fall a touch at the assurance.

“Actually, on the subject of family magic, I have a question,” Hermione says lifting a hand a touch to draw their attention.

Dorea smiles at her encouragingly. “Of course, dear. What is it?”

“I’ve been feeling this kind of itchy odd spot since I woke up this morning,” Hermione explains. “Harry says he doesn’t have it so maybe I’m reading someone in the magic wrong or…”

“Or a new magical has appeared in the Granger line only since we cannot detect them,” Dorea cuts in gently, smiling widely. “An itchy feeling is the first sign of a new potential, possibly a few months into pregnancy.”

“Potential?” asks Hermione faintly.

“An unborn child,” Sirius restates with a smile. Hermione turns to Harry, her eyes wide with shocked realisation. “My parents, Harry! I mean, the Grangers here! They must be having a baby!”

Chapter 10: Ritual Conversations

“Thank you all for rejoining us in the lab today,” Dumbledore begins.

He looks worn from the past couple of weeks. There are bags and shadows under his eyes, and a general droopiness in his demeanour instead of the usual confidence. His hair and beard have grown longer although he’s keeping them tidy. His entire body is tight with tension, like a quivering bowstring about to break.  

Harry knows from Charlus and Arcturus that Abraxas has taken his complaints about Dumbledore’s running of the school and Filch’s death to the Board of Governors. The weekend edition of The Prophet ran an opinion piece questioning Dumbledore’s leadership. It had also been faintly critical of Bagnold too, suggesting that the Minister should be intervening to guarantee the safety of the students more.  

“We are…”

“The potion is ready!” Horace crows and claps his hands with unabashed glee.

Harry glances around the lab and represses the urge to sigh. He pushes his hands in his pockets. At least there are less people present than last time.

Pomona and Minerva are not present as they’ve determined that their skills are not aligned with the test and are better served patrolling the school and keeping the students in line. Remus Lupin is missing because the day will end with a full moon and he’s already locked up in his quarters with his potion. Bones has also kept the Auror contingent slimmed down to only her and Pettigrew. James is back on duty but he has been assigned a patrol on the seventh floor along with Croaker.

Harry envies everyone not in the room. At the War Council meeting that week, Dumbledore had directly requested he and Hermione be present.

Locke is back. Harry isn’t sure why because he hasn’t taken part in Team Potions and he isn’t an active Auror even if hovers behind Bones and Pettigrew. He sees Bones slide Kevin an irritated look and figures she’s also confused at his presence.

Aurelius also lurks at the back as he always does. Harry marks him as another unneeded presence. As far as Harry is aware, Aurelius hasn’t been part of Team Potions, but he wonders if Dumbledore had asked for his nephew to present.

Snape is up at the front with Lily. His usual sneering stoicism masks his expression except his lips are set in a tiny smirk of satisfaction. His hair is scraped back in a stiff and unattractive way which has Harry musing on whether he’s washed it since the last meeting.

Lily keeps casting looks at the state of him and Harry figures she’s debating whether to say something to him after they’ve finished in the lab. By contrast, Lily looks beautiful. Her red hair is tidied back into its usual professional chignon and she wears her professor robes over a summery green dress dotted with white flowers.

Filius stands to the other side of her. The half-goblin professor is in his usual garb of a neat suit under his professor robes. He looks the most rested of everyone in the room.

Pettigrew is bristling with the confidence of his position at the workbench. His Auror robes are neat as a pin. There is a faint bruise along his right jawline from where James hit him. Since bruises are so easy to heal with magic, Harry figures that he’s left it there as a badge of honour or an attempt to gain sympathy.

Horace had bounced into the lab and remains a giddy ball of happiness. He is the only one of them exuding any kind of positive emotion.

Sirius stands next to Harry on his left, arms folded and countenance very much in Black heir mode.

Harry glances to this right where Hermione stands. He might be biased but his wife looks stunningly pretty. Her caramel hair is simply pulled back into a low ponytail. She’d chosen a plain white t-shirt with a blue and white skirt to match with his own casual choice of white t-shirt and blue trousers. Like Harry, she’s not wearing her professor robes. Her hands are folded neatly in front of her and she is staring at the glass vial of purple potion set out on the bench as though it is the only thing in the room.

“Yes,” Dumbledore says sternly, nudging Horace aside. “The potion is ready.” He sighs. “The only magic else in the room is on the snake statues. Unfortunately, Slytherin used parseltongue to set the spell and so the arithmancy is complete gibberish.”

He looks entirely disgruntled by that.

Harry sneaks a look at Hermione who is captivated by the news about the arithmancy. He knows she’s probably eager to go over and try to see it for herself. The return to the potions lab is a good distraction from the news that the Grangers were indeed expecting a baby. Hermione is procrastinating about reaching out to them. Maybe she’ll agree to do it once they find the chamber and deal with Riddle’s possession, Harry muses.

“We’ve conferred with Director Bell and believe that the message indicates that someone should take the potion, place their hand onto one of the statues and declare their loyalty to the crown,” Dumbledore says briefly.

They all stare at Dumbledore.

“You want someone to drink a loyalty potion which compels obedience to the individual to whom they declare allegiance?” Hermione checks bluntly.

“If I may say so, that feels like an incredibly bad idea,” Sirius says, a small line between his brows giving away just how perturbed he is by the suggestion.

“The ‘Potions Most Potente’ had a recipe for an antidote,” Hermione says, “do you have it to hand?”

Lily smiles humourlessly. “I did suggest the same but was overruled.”

Dumbledore shifts subtly, his chin rising. “We did not have the ingredients to hand nor the time to brew it in addition to the actual potion.”

James coughs. “How fortunate that I had some time while I was suspended and secured the ingredients for my mother to brew while you all focused on the original potion.” He reaches into his pocket and sets down a bottle on the bench.

Dumbledore’s face twitches as he looks at James.

Lily grins at James as he settles back into place beside her.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore says tersely in a way that suggests he’s not thankful at all. “We still need a volunteer. Perhaps you would like to step forward?”

James shakes his head. “I’m afraid Moody and Scrimgeour have banned any involvement by an active duty Auror.”

“He’s right,” Bones says briskly. “All the Aurors are banned from taking part in this experiment. We have very few Aurors assigned to the castle, we cannot risk their health and wellbeing.”

“My professors can hardly be expected to volunteer, Auror Bones,” Dumbledore protests.

Bones raises both her eyebrows and meets his glower with one of her own. “You do have an apprentice, do you not? Surely, he is confident in his own work enough to down the potion himself.”

It is a fair argument. Unfortunately, what Bones does not realise is that Snape is doing triple duty as a spy. He cannot take the risk of taking a loyalty potion. Luckily as Dumbledore believes Snape to be his spy, he shakes his head at the suggestion.

“If the volunteer has an adverse reaction, Severus will be vital in helping to determine how to help them,” Dumbledore says firmly.

“So, you’ve ruled your professors out of the running,” Bones says sternly, “the Aurors are not permitted to volunteer and the potion makers are also ruled out. Who is left?”  

Harry feels Hermione shift uneasily beside him and he knows she’s afraid he’ll step forward, but he has no intention of taking the potion. It feels too much like putting himself willingly under an Imperius.

“I’ll do it,” Locke announces as the silence grows uncomfortable.

They all shift to look at him.

His dark hair is swept back from its prominent widow’s peak, his cheeks are ruddy under the weight of everyone’s gaze. His blue eyes have a spark of something desperate and wild and slightly unfocused. Harry wonders at it.

Is Locke high on something? Locke talks a good game about facing danger, but Harry would not have clocked the man as a willing volunteer for something like this.

Dumbledore sighs. “Professor Locke, you are the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. I cannot afford to lose any another teacher since I am already covering for Professor Wilde. We have exams to prepare for and final classes to…”

“All my classes can be done by any decent Auror, Headmaster, you and I both know it,” Locke says, his red cheeks darkening further. “I might not be active duty but I am an Auror.”

“Surely Instructor Potter also has the skills and experience to step into the classes, Uncle,” Aurelius spoke up quietly. “His performance in last week’s duelling club has been the talk of the students.”

Locke grimaces.

Harry tries to hide his own wince. He hadn’t meant to beat Locke so soundly in the show duel but he had and it had been the talk of the school.

Dumbledore looks at Harry contemplatively. “Instructor Potter, would you be willing to step in should Professor Locke be unable after taking the potion? We would cancel flying instruction bar coaching for the final Quidditch matches.”

Harry gives in with a nod. “Hopefully I won’t be needed though,” he says out loud. “I’ve every confidence Horace and Apprentice Snape have brewed the potion well.”

Horace beams at him.

Harry glances at Locke. “Good luck.”

Locke flashes a quick smile at him and steps up to the bench. “Thank you.”

“You’re a braver man than I,” James quips. “But if something does go awry, I promise you my mother is a brilliant brewer.”

“Indeed she is!” Horace confirms cheerfully. “Why she could have done her Mastery if your father hadn’t whisked her away to become the Countess of Gryffindor!”

Dumbledore shifts his weight subtly drawing everyone’s attention again. “Professor Locke, you will take a dose of the potion. You will then step up to each snake statue and declare your loyalty to the crown.”

Harry watches as Horace measures out a small serving of the potion into a small shot glass.

Locke takes the glass and looks down at the bubbling purple liquid with a scrunched-up nose. He takes a deep breath and raises the glass in a silent toast before downing the liquid. His face scrunches up further and he grimaces widely, his lips distorting into a squiggle.

“Possibly not the nicest tasting concoction with the fermented ants eggs,” Horace comments in a loud whisper to Snape.

“How are you feeling, Kevin?” asks Lily, her eyes intent on registering how Locke is reacting.

Other than a sickly green cast to his skin and a line of sweat at his brow, Locke appears fine to Harry’s untrained eye.

Dumbledore ushers Locke over to the statues.

Locke draws his wand from his holster. His hand shakes as he lifts it to hold it against his heart. He reaches out with his free hand and places it tentatively on the first snake statue, the one facing forward.

“I, Kevin Andrew Locke, hereby swear my loyalty to the crown!”

They all wait with anticipation; breath held for a few seconds, eyes searching for a sign of any movement.

Nothing happens.

“Perhaps the other statue?” suggests Dumbledore.

Locke breathes in audibly and steps away from the first statue. He stumbles a step, blanches and turns to vomit all over Dumbledore’s shoes.

“Oh dear!” Horace mutters. “How unfortunate!”

Dumbledore wandlessly removes the sick from himself and the floor. “Get yourself together, Professor Locke!”

Locke straightens from his hunched position and weaves his way to the second statue on the other side of the blackboard.

He slaps a hand on the gold snake and repeats his vow.

For a second time, nothing happens.

It is all very deflating.

Harry isn’t sure that he was hoping for it to succeed but knowing for certain that the plan hasn’t worked is depressing.

Foiled again, Harry thinks tiredly. His past life, finding and getting access to the chamber of secrets as a schoolboy, feels so much simpler in comparison. His eyes flicker back to the message.

Only the one who knows my true legacy may access the secrets in my chamber. True loyalty to our King must be proven if you wish to enter.’

Loyalty to the King.

“It’s not loyalty to the crown,” Harry says, “it’s to the King.”

“We don’t have a King,” Pettigrew snap, his arms folded tightly across his chest. “The vow is to the crown; it shouldn’t make a difference magically.”

“Unless the parseltongue gibberish is looking for a King,” Hermione replies.

Her support warms him. She’s always got his back.

“Our Knights of Avalon do have a point,” Dumbledore says. He gestures at Locke who is hunched over again, holding onto his stomach. “Try again.”

“Sorry, but is he really meant to be quite as sick as he is?” Hermione interrupts, gesturing at Locke. “He doesn’t look at all well.”

“I can do it!” Locke insists.

Locke raises his trembling hand back to the statue. He opens his mouth and stutters through the revised oath.

Silence falls again as they all wait.

Nothing happens.

Locke groans loudly.

“I really think we should…” Lily begins, taking a step towards him.

Locke stumbles as he takes a step across to the second statue, pitches forward, and collapses. He’s saved only by a quick cushioning spell by Sirius from smashing his face into the floor.

Lily, Snape and James hurry to him.

Hermione presses into Harry’s side and he takes her hand in his as they watch. He wants to run over but he has no idea how to help and figures it’s best to let the others step in.

Lily presses her fingers against the pulse point in Locke’s neck. “His heart is racing.”

Snape leans in, getting close to Locke’s mouth and nose. He sniffs and rears back. “I cannot smell anything but vomit.” He grimaces. “He is breathing.”

James’ wand snaps out a diagnostic spell and flings the results up into the air. “He’s been cursed. I don’t recognise it.”

“Compella,” Dumbledore states grimly. “It was a bastard form of the Imperius invented by Grindelwald. He often used it on create thralls out of muggles so he could compel them to do things for him.”

Harry doesn’t miss how Dumbledore’s pale blue eyes dart momentarily to the back of the room to Aurelius.

“Oh dear!” Horace says, wringing his hands. “The Lealtad must have reacted badly with his mind already under the control of another.”

“Will the antidote work?” asks James, summoning it from the bench.

“I can’t say!” Horace exclaims.

Lily clears her throat. “We should get Kevin to the infirmary room and continue this discussion with Ariana and Poppy. He needs to be stabilised before any treatment.”

James nods. He shoves the antidote bottle back into his pocket and conjures a stretcher.  Lily, James, and Snape work together to get Kevin situated and hurriedly leave.

Horace hurries out after them. Harry assumes he’s going to try to help with Locke, although he wouldn’t put Horace just going to his quarters and hiding as a footstool as a possibility.

Dumbledore looks back at the blackboard with a heavy sigh. “I think we are adjourned for today.”

Filius gives a sharp nod. “I will also see if I can assist with Professor Locke.” He’s gone before anyone else can say anything.

Bones coughs sharply. “I suggest we regroup later to debrief, Headmaster.” She motions for Pettigrew to walk with her.

Pettigrew stares at the blackboard angrily one last time and falls in beside her.

Dumbledore sighs and rubs his temple as though easing a headache. “Harry, may I prevail upon you to take over the duelling club this afternoon?”

Harry keeps the grimace he makes off his face. “Of course.” He has an awful feeling that he’s going to spend the rest of the weekend preparing to take over Locke’s lessons come Monday too.

“I’ll help,” Sirius offers.

Dumbledore smiles genuinely at them. “Thank you.” He picks up the Lealtad potion and gestures at his nephew as he strides out. “Aurelius, a word.”

Aurelius gives nothing away as he leaves with Dumbledore.

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all,” Hermione comments.

Harry glances at his wife but finds her attention is pinned on the blackboard. “What are you thinking?”

“Maybe nothing,” Hermione shakes her head. “I just think we’re missing something.”

“If the experiment taught us anything this morning, it is that we are definitely missing a lot of something,” Sirius quips as they all start to move towards the door.

“Do you think we should head to the infirmary?” asks Harry.

Hermione shakes her head. “As much as I want to help, I think we’d get in the way…”

A soft meow by the blackboard draws their attention.

Hermione’s head immediately snaps to the blackboard.

Crookshanks jumps up on the teacher’s desk and sits.

Hermione hurries over to pick him up. “Where have you been?”

“More importantly,” Sirius gestures around the room, “where did he come from?”

“He must have wandered in when we were all looking at Locke,” Hermione says. She rubs under Crookshanks chin and he purrs audibly. “Come on, let’s get this furry monster home. He must be hungry.”

As they step out and close the door, they hear the magical lock Dumbledore has placed on the door re-engage. The sign posted on the door states it is off-limits.

They head back to their quarters, silently agreeing not to talk about the events of the morning.

Hermione organises food for Crookshanks and Harry organises lunch for them. He has one eye on the clock since his afternoon is going to be taken up with the duelling club.

They mutually decide to wait until James and Lily are back before talking about the experiment. Luckily, they don’t have to wait long. The couple arrive back just as they’re finishing up bistro-style burgers and skinny French fries.

Lily gives a soft cheer of delight and sits down next to Hermione while James joins Sirius on the other side of the table. The meal pops into their serving places immediately along with cutlery, napkins and extra ketchup.

Harry waves his last French fry at them. “How’s Locke?”

“Unconscious,” James says tiredly, squeezing a large amount of ketchup directly over his fries like a heathen. “Ariana gave him the Lealtad antidote and it helped but sent him into some kind of coma. He’s being shipped off to Saint Mungo’s and put under a security watch.”

“Filius is going to work on a counter-curse,” Lily says. “We think the combined reversals may help to alleviate it.” She takes a bite of her burger, chews and swallows hurriedly. “I’d love to work on it, but Filius wants me to focus on finishing my treatise on the armbands.”

Hermione hums around a mouthful of burger. She puts her food down and wipes her fingers on a napkin. “Are we assuming the person possessed by Riddle’s imprint cursed Kevin?”

James nods, picking up his burger. “It’s the prevailing theory. Amy thinks they wanted the ability to control the individual once they were granted entrance to the chamber, potentially to allow them entrance without having to through the loyalty potion or to create a new way in for them.”

“Makes sense,” Sirius says quietly. He sets his napkin down over his empty plate and everything pops away.

“It was a good call on getting Locke to try the vow with the King rather than the crown,” James continues, pointing with a ketchup-drenched fry towards Harry.

“It didn’t work,” Harry notes dryly.

“We only tried it on one statue,” Lily shakes her head. “But I have to admit, I don’t think what we’re trying is going to work. We’re definitely missing something.”

“Maybe you and I can give Regina a call and work on it while Harry and Sirius are at the duelling club?” suggests Hermione.

Lily grins. “I’d love that.”

“What about you, James?” Hermione asks. “I assume you’re back on duty?”

James nods. “With Bertie. Peter and I are banned from patrolling together.” He takes a bite of burger and avoids their eyes.

“I thought you were going to talk it out with him?” Lily says, frowning.

James wipes his hands on a napkin and shrugs. “I was cautioned not to speak to him while I was suspended and Bones isn’t assigning us together now. I did try to catch him before our shift today but Peter is avoiding me.”

Sirius places a consoling hand on his shoulder. “You Mischief Makers have always worked out your differences before. I’m certain you’ll work things out.”

“Bertie thinks the same,” James scoops up some more fries with his free hand. “Both he and Remus think Peter went too far so they get why I punched him.” He sighs. “Bertie also says that since I did punch him, I should give Peter some time to get over that and let him come to me.”

Lily makes a face but she refrains from saying anything.

“Talking of punching people, we should head to the duelling club,” Sirius says catching Harry’s eye.

Harry nods. He leans over to kiss Hermione’s cheek. “I’ll see you later. Say hi to Regina for me and have fun with the chamber discussion.”

“We will!” Hermoine says cheerfully.

Her excitement and enjoyment of trying to puzzle things out sits like a warm buzz within the family magic during the duelling club.

Harry has the students playing tag with a paint spell and shields for the whole time. He and Sirius manage to stay on top of all the usual spits and spats of young people with weapons playing together in a confined space. Harry is thoroughly exhausted by the time the club draws to a close but as the students leave chattering and happy, he feels that they’ve done a good job.

He starts to clean the floor of paint splatter and Sirius takes the far side to do the same.

“Sir?”

Harry recognises Bill’s voice without turning around. “What can I do for you, Mister Weasley?”

“I was wondering if you could oversee a practice session tomorrow for myself and the chasers?” Bill asks politely.

Harry scratches his head as he mentally thinks about it. The final Quidditch match of the season is coming up and Gryffindor will be playing Hufflepuff. He sighs. “My family is over for lunch so it will have to be tomorrow morning. Ten sharp on the field.”

Bill grins. “Done, sir! Thank you!” He whirls away as though he needs to leave before Harry can change his mind only to find his younger brother hovering behind him. He gives a yelp.

Charlie sniggers and Harry hides a smile.

It was a very manly yelp, Harry thinks, amused.

“Charlie! What do you want now?” asks Bill with all the patience of an irritated older brother.

“You said you’d help me with McGonagall so I can get the pocket watch back, remember?” Charlie says guilelessly.

Harry freezes. He stops cleaning the patch of paint from the floor and turns back to the Weasley boys who are in the middle of arguing about whether Bill had promised to help or not.

“Boys!” Harry interrupts them. “What’s this about a pocket watch?”

Charlie’s freckled face brightens and Harry tries to ignore the smudge of paint on his left cheek. “Can you help me, Professor?!”

“Charlie!” Bill hisses, his hand tugging on Charlie’s elbow.

“Maybe,” Harry says calmly although his heart is racing. “You’re missing a pocket watch?”

Charlie nods. “I dropped it when I was doing the detention in the trophy room…”

Harry vaguely remembers McGonagall complaining about how she’d had to send everyone in the Gryffindor first year to detention on the first night after the Easter break because of shenanigans on the train. He yanks his mind back to Charlie who’s still talking.

“Then I saw Mister Filch had it and I was going to ask him about it but there was the explosion and…” Charlie heaves a sigh. “Mum is going to kill me if I don’t have it when we go home.”

Harry tries to act nonchalant. “Your Mum gave you the pocket watch?”

Charlie shrugs. “I found it in my coat pocket on the train so it must have been Mum.”

Bill frowns. “You never said that before. Why would Mum put it in your pocket?”

Charlie rolls his eyes at his brother. “You know she sometimes just puts handkerchiefs and gloves in my pockets.”

“Because you’re always losing them,” Bill replies. He regards Charlie with concern. “Did you write her about it?”

Charlie shakes his head, exasperation creeping across his young Weasley features. “I lost it before I could write her a thank you note!”

“She never asked about in her letters?” prods Bill.

Harry can see the makings of the future curse breaker in Bill’s questions. The oldest sibling Weasley is clearly suspicious about the watch’s origins.

Charlie shakes his head, stops, and frowns an identical frown to the one Bill is sporting. “That’s odd, right?” he asks tentatively.

Bill nods. “Mum would have already asked you about it if she’d given it to you and you never said anything. Maybe someone tossed it in your pocket to hide that they’d stolen it or something.”

“Maybe a letter to your Mum might be in order?” suggests Harry. “You can check on whether she ever did you give you a pocket watch. If she did then I suggest coming clean about it getting lost is probably the best approach.”

Charlie winces, paling a touch under his freckles. “She’s going to kill me.”

Bill slung an arm around his younger brother’s shoulders. “It’ll be fine.”

“In the meantime, I’ll ask the Headmaster if it was found with Mister Filch’s belongings,” Harry says. “What did it look like?”

Charlie shrugs again in the slightly insolent way of a child. “Like a pocket watch?”

“Was it gold, silver? Did it have any inscriptions on it?” Harry expands, trying to keep his exasperation out of his voice.

“Oh!” Charlie’s eyes widen. “Silver, it was silver! And there was a really cool snake on the front! It kind of talks too. It said hello.”

Bill slaps a hand over his face.

Harry is kind of speechless.

“What has Dad said about trusting things if you can’t see where their brain is?!” Bill exclaims, dropping his hand to glower at his brother in a way which reminds Harry all too much of Molly.

“I’ll look into the pocket watch,” Harry promises. “Why don’t you write your Mum and Dad just to check it wasn’t something they gave you?”

“Right, Professor!” Bill takes hold of Charlie who squawks as Bill hauls him away.

“Did I hear all of that correctly?” asks Sirius bemused.

Harry pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’m afraid so.” Filch getting the pocket watch makes sense. Either Dumbledore found it with Filch’s belongings and hasn’t said anything – entirely too possible – or he or someone else found it and have been influenced by it.

“We should…” Sirius begins.

A wave of anger and fear floods the family magic, overwhelming and horrific.

Harry clutches his head and gasps for breath, trying to push the emotions aside to identify the source and…

Lily!

Hermione!

Harry runs.

Sirius is at his heels, keeping up in every way.

The distance from the duelling club hall on the fourth floor to the lab on the second feels immense. They’re on the other side of the castle. There are magical staircases shifting without warning between the floors. Harry is too far from Hermione and he is furious in his helplessness.

It’s not just Hermione who has settled into banked panic with an undertone of brave determination. It is Lily who stutters with terror and then pain before going terrifyingly dull in the same way James did when he was badly injured and unconscious.

They take the first staircase two steps at a time.

Something has happened and Lily is hurt.

He feels his own rage echoed in the magic by James. Lily’s presence in the Potter magic is tenuous and through his own bond but James has been watchful and aware of the shining sharp feel of Lily Evans ever since she stepped out of his father’s study and claimed Harry as her son.

Students cry out in alarm as they run past; a young girl drops her books, a group of boys laughing in the middle of a corridor scatter with shouts, a Hufflepuff male prefect stumbles out of a broom cupboard with a giggling girl and he yanks her back before they can trample them…

They hit the second staircase.

Hermione’s fear spikes and her presence fades into the same state as Lily.

They are almost at the fourth floor when it suddenly shifts and starts to travel away; three steps away from the landing. Harry doesn’t even think – he simply leaps. He lands and rolls on the hard wooden floor uncaring about bruises as he gets to his feet.

Behind him Sirius lands with a clatter of hooves. He’d had to make the change to his animagus form to jump the distance. He transforms back within two steps and runs beside Harry as they take the first corridor.

Second corridor.

The portraits yell at them for running.

Down and to the left.

Ahead of them the strange snake statues which line this part of the castle. They take the corner…

James is running towards them from the other side, his wand already out and ready; Croaker some distance behind him.

They finally reach the lab door.

Harry reaches for the doorknob and the handle sparks green; a warning. It’s locked and there is a ward.

Sirius sends an identifying spell towards it just as James gets to them.

The arithmancy springs up in golden letter beside the door.

Harry takes a breath and glares at the gibberish.

“What the fuck is that?!” James snaps, glowering at the glowing stream.

“Parseltongue,” Harry says grimly. He pushes his glasses up his nose and gestures for them to move back as he lines himself up with the door. “Shield yourselves!”

“Wait, what are…” Croaker begins breathlessly.

Harry raises his wand and sends a shockwave of pure magical power at the door. He is marked as Riddle’s equal and he will overcome the obstacles Riddle places between him and his wife.

The door lights up in a bright green, groans, and explodes in a storm of splinters.

Harry throws up his own shield hurriedly and finds himself protected by three with James and Sirius either side of him, protecting him too.

They hurry through the door, not waiting for the converging group of Aurors and professors running towards them. For a brief second, Harry almost thinks there is no one there…he glimpses feet and legs at the end of the aisle by the blackboard, the rest hidden by the teacher’s desk. He hurries forward and already knows it is Lily but maybe Hermione is there too and…but it is only Lily.

Harry’s breath catches in his throat in terror.

Chapter 11: The Snake in the Lair

“LILY!” James drops to her side and presses his hand against her neck. “She’s alive!” He breathes out in relief, his forehead dropping to touch Lily’s.

Harry’s gaze darts about the lab. Where is his wife? Where is Hermione?

“Look,” Sirius says urgently.

Harry’s eyes snap to where Sirius is crouched beside Lily. He’s holding her wrist up. The protective armband is blackened.

Harry swallows hard. Lily had been targeted with The Assassin’s Mask.

“LILY!” Snape pushes Sirius out of the way to get to her and Harry feels a twinge of sympathy for Snape’s evident distress.

Sirius doesn’t argue, he stands up and joins Harry.

Dumbledore enters, fury sparking in his blue eyes like a storm. “What is going on here?!”

Harry gestures at Lily’s unconscious form. “Hermione and Lily were attacked. I think they worked out how to get into the chamber.” He shoves a hand through his hair and turns back to the blackboard. There is no message announcing that whoever Riddle possesses has taken her but Harry knows that is what has happened. “He took Hermione and tried to kill Lily, but thankfully her wrist band protected her.”

“Auror Pettigrew was on guard duty at the door,” Bones says sharply. Her fingers are white around her wand. “He also appears to be missing.”

“We should get Lily to the infirmary,” Snape snaps. “Her protection was experimental and we cannot know it will hold!”

James shifts. “He’s right.” He manoeuvres to pick Lily up in a bridal carry.

Snape’s brow lowers, his unhappiness written in the sulky turn of his mouth, but he doesn’t argue. He simply follows James out.

Harry stays. As much as he wants to go with them, to check on Lily, he has to find Hermione. He glares at the blackboard and the cryptic message Slytherin had left behind.

“ATTENTION! ALL STUDENTS ARE TO RETURN TO THEIR COMMON ROOMS AT ONCE!” Dumbledore’s voice echoes through Hogwarts.

Harry examines the forward-facing snake statue. He wishes he could talk parseltongue again. Maybe the statues are animated when someone does and they could tell him something.

“I want a full accounting of who is not present in the castle!” Dumbledore demands brusquely.

Harry glances back and sees all four Heads of Houses nodding in response.

“Croaker, Higgs, Busby, Matthews! Go with them!” Bones says loudly.

The professors bustle away to carry out the order, the Aurors just behind them.

“Where are the other staff members?” asks Sirius, turning to Dumbledore. “Can you place them through the wards?”

Dumbledore closes his eyes for a moment. “Hagrid and Professor Stabling are out by the thestral field. Professor Glass remains in her quarters. Madame Pince is in the library. Ariana and Poppy are both in the infirmary.” He shakes his head. “Professor Locke has been removed to Saint Mungo’s. Professor Wilde remains at Saint Mungo’s. Aurelius went into Hogsmeade to talk with his father.”

“We should check,” Bones states. She looks around the lab and grimaces. “I need to report this attack to the Ministry. I’ll request more Aurors to look for Professor Potter.” She leaves before Dumbledore can argue.

Dumbledore catches Harry’s gaze. “I should go with her. I assume I can leave the investigation in your hands?”

Harry nods.

“I will have your word that you will contact us when we need to send the rescue party?”

“You have my word,” Harry says tersely. Even at twelve he had tried not to be alone facing the Heir of Slytherin.

Dumbledore walks away.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Hermoine feels unconscious but not hurt.”

Relief snakes through Harry’s muscles leaving them trembling for a brief moment before he steels himself.

“Thank you,” Harry murmurs. “I thought so too but…” he shrugs. The family magic is still new to him and having Sirius confirm his own analysis was reassuring and comforting.

“Let’s take a breath and go back to the likely beginning. We left them considering the events of the morning…” Sirius begins.

Harry can feel Sirius’ worry underneath his surface composure. “Hermione’s always had doubts that the potion was the answer and…” he stopped suddenly. “They were going to speak to Regina.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Lommy!”

The head house elf assigned to serve them at Hogwarts popped into the lab.

“Please fetch me my communications mirror,” Sirius orders hurriedly.

Harry rubs his brow as Lommy pops away again. It feels like an age before Lommy returns although Harry estimates it is a minute at most in reality.

Sirius absently thanks the elf as he takes the mirror and holds it up in front of himself and Harry. “Regina Black!”

The mirror glass swirls and Regina’s image forms.

“Sirirus!” Regina’s silver eyes are frantic. “What’s happened?! I can make out something has happened but I can’t tell what and who is involved and…”

Harry feels a rush of sympathy. He’d felt helpless enough feeling everything clearly and only being across the castle from Lily and Hermione. To be so far away and only have vague unsettling knowledge…he shivers.

“Lily and Hermione were attacked in the lab,” Sirius answers swiftly. “Lily’s alive and in the infirmary. Hermione is missing as is Pettigrew who was guarding the entrance. We need to know what you all worked out about gaining entrance to the chamber.”

Regina closes her eyes briefly, centring herself. She opens them and her silver gaze is filled with determination. “Hermione worked out that the legacy was never about potions. The potion is a misdirect for those foolish to try and find the chamber. Even if you guessed a potion, used it and tried to vow loyalty to the King, you would never gain entry.”

Harry’s mind jumps ahead. “Knights of Avalon! Slytherin was tasked to create a place as part of his Knight mission. That’s his legacy!”

“Bingo!” Regina says. “Hermione guessed that the entrance will only be granted to a Knight of Avalon.”

“It can’t be that easy, can it?” asks Sirius.

Regina shakes her head. “The allusion that Slytherin makes in his journal; that he hopes his familiar will help. I said it sounded important and Hermione joked that in the muggle world that using a pet name as a password on a computer was a very typical thing.”

“So, the vow as a…a username and the pet name as the password!” Harry rubs his forehead. “What did Dumbledore say was the name again?”

“Norteña,” Sirius says promptly.

“I asked whether the name had any meaning and Lily said it means Northern in Spanish,” Regina’s lips twist into a sharp smile.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” Sirius sighs.

“Lily said it was unlikely to be a password given the timeframe,” Regina continues, “I guessed it was a hint towards the statues and the direction they are facing.”

“Right,” Harry sets his wand to lie on his hand. “Point me!”

The wand swivels to point backwards towards the blackboard.

Sirius and Harry turn back.

“It’s this statue,” Harry gestures to the one facing the same way.

“Right,” Sirius grimaces. “We should send for Dumbledore and Bones.”

“I wish I could help you more but I can’t do anything else from here,” Regina’s voice yanks their gaze back to the communication mirror.

“You’ve been an enormous help,” Sirius says.

Harry nods. “Thank you, Regina.”

“I’ll call you later, Reg,” Sirius assures her.

“Stay safe!” Regina signs off and the mirror swirls back into nothing more than polished glass.

Sirius stuffs the mirror into the pocket of his robe.

Harry silently casts his patronus and a glowy white Prongs clatters out into the lab. “Go to Dumbledore and tell him, we know how to get into the chamber. We’re going in ten minutes or sooner if we feel Hermione regaining consciousness. Once you’ve informed Dumbledore, go to James, tell him a Knight of Avalon opens the chamber by providing a vow to the northern facing statue. I request he stay behind to guard Lily and be a back-up for us.”

Prongs springs away disappearing through the door.

Sirius places a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get her back. As soon as she’s provided an opportunity, Hermione will probably have whoever it is hogtied and captive by the time we get there.”

Harry smiles at the attempt at humour but he can barely maintain it. “She opened the chamber because whoever it was threatened the others.”

Sirius nods. “That’s probably why he’s taken Pettigrew too; to continue having someone there to make her comply.”

Harry presses his lips together. “But why Pettigrew? Why not take Lily? Pettigrew’s an Auror. I mean, I don’t like him but my Voldemort even a young imprint of him would have taken Lily as leverage not Pettigrew.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Sirius agrees. He adjusts his cuffs as he considers it. “Let’s assume Hermione and Lily turn up at the door ready to test their theories.”

Harry nods. “They find Pettigrew guarding the door and they convince him to let them in.” They’d probably assured him that if they were successful, they’d wait to gather everyone again.

“Pettigrew maybe remains by the door, inside, watching them,” Sirius theorises, gesturing towards the back. “Imprint Riddle is alerted that someone is in the lab somehow and arrives. They knock out Pettigrew while he’s looking to the front. Then, he attacks, takes Lily hostage and threatens her to get Hermione to open the entrance.”

“The entrance opens,” Harry says, “they knock out Hermione maybe? Lily tries to do something and they cast The Assassin’s Mask at her so Imprint Riddle grabs Pettigrew instead and takes both him and Hermione into the chamber.”

Sirius sighs. “I guess we won’t know for certain until Lily wakes up or we find Hermione and she can tell us but it’s a theory.”

“If we’d been able to get here faster…” Harry wishes they were able to apparate within the walls of Hogwarts.

“He would have used your wife as a hostage,” Sirius says darkly. “He still might.”

Harry checks the time. Five minutes. He paces back and forth across the blackboard.

A lion patronus sails into the lab.

James’ voice echoes across the benches. “I understand, Harry, and can’t say I’m pleased with your request. But I will do as you ask. Good luck and stay safe.”

Harry takes a breath.

“You were right to ask him to stay behind,” Sirius says. “We need someone to be the cavalry.”

Harry checks the time again. Eight minutes. Hermione’s presence in the family bond remains muted. He takes the few steps he needs to line up with the snake statue.

Bones enters the lab at a run. Dumbledore strides in a second later.

“No students are unaccounted for,” Dumbledore says without preamble. “Remus Lupin is not in his room and I cannot locate him anywhere within the wards.”

Harry freezes. “Did he take his potion?”

Dumbledore shakes his head. “Severus was due to deliver the final dose in another hour. Without the full dose he will transform. I’ve alerted the other staff and the students will be confined for their safety.”

Harry turns back to the statue and readied his wand, holding it against his heart.

“WAIT!” Bones shouts. “What is our plan here?”

Harry looks back at her irritated at the delay but knowing she is right to ask; they should have some kind of semblance of a plan even if that isn’t his forte. “Our plan is to enter the chamber. I have no idea if we will have to traverse a tunnel or step right in. We secure Hermione and Pettigrew so Riddle can’t use them. Then we deal with Imprint Riddle. If we enter a tunnel, we might have a chance to get to the chamber stealthily, see where everyone is situated, and make a better plan.”

“A pragmatic way forward,” Dumbledore agrees.

Harry turns back. He places one hand on the statue and other clasps his wand over his heart.

“I, Harry Potter-Black, Earl of Peverell, and Knight of Avalon. I swear my wand and my magic guard Camelot in service of our King, Arthur Pendragon,” Harry states loudly.

The snake comes alive under his hand and hisses before solidifying once more.

The wall behind the snake shifts, a door appears and opens. A narrow tunnel lies ahead, dark and dusty. He can see the snake statue has a counterpart – an identical snake looking directly at the one under his hand. Harry assumes it will enable a way out.

Harry takes a breath. It is a tunnel. It will lead them to the chamber. He erects a privacy bubble and turns back to the others.

“We must remain as quiet as possible,” Harry instructs. “We cannot know if the chamber is at the end of the tunnel without a door or with a door. If we make noise, we will give our position away and won’t be able to surprise them.”

He gets three nods of understanding.

“May I suggest you take forward position, Harry?” Dumbledore proposes. “Then perhaps, myself?”

Harry raises an eyebrow and glances towards Sirius. He’d rather have Sirius but…

“I should take rear position,” Sirius says.

Harry knows Dumbledore will assume Sirius’ suggestion is because he is not as powerful as either Harry or Dumbledore, although he is powerful, and because he has no official standing such as being an Auror. Dumbledore does not know that Sirius is also a Knight of Avalon, the Black Knight, and will be able to reopen the entrance should they need it.

“That feels sensible to me,” Bones states.

“We stick close together until we’re all in the tunnel,” Harry says. “Hold onto each other’s robes.”

Dumbledore immediately reaches to place his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Bones gamely does the same to the Headmaster and Sirius clasps Bones’ right shoulder. They all have their wands drawn and ready.

Harry grasps his holly wand firmly and dismisses the bubble. He casts a spell to make their footsteps soundless and steps lightly into the tunnel. He hurries forward past the snake statue, hoping there isn’t some unknown automatic closing mechanism. He’s right to fear it; Sirius is barely past the statue when the door slides shut.

They all exchange a quick look of shared understanding and acknowledgement that the magic is tracking Harry.

Dumbledore drops his hold and Harry tries not to sigh in relief as the restraining weight on his shoulder disappears.

As much as he wants to run, Harry keeps his pace a measured if speedy walk as they progress through the dusty and musty tunnel. Halfway there they spot another set of snake statues. They don’t examine but continue onward. Harry constantly checks for magical traps ahead as they are led downwards until they come to a set of stairs.

Harry sends a diagnostic spell his own Bill Weasley, the grown and adult curse-breaker, had once taught him. Half-way down the staircase lights up with a golden glow. He shifts to cast and reveal the arithmancy. It is in parseltongue and looks like gibberish. He dismisses it as useless.

“Well, I would put forth it is some kind of recognition spell,” Dumbledore comments in a low voice. “It may simply be checking that a Knight of Avalon is passing once more.” He tugs his beard. “Perhaps it would be wiser for the rest of us to levitate or float ourselves down.”

“You say that like floating yourself is easy,” Bones comments dryly.

“I can float myself and float you both down after me,” Dumbledore offers.

Harry nods slowly. It must have been how Imprint Riddle has traversed the trap if they were levitating an unconscious Pettigrew and Hermione.

“Sold,” Bones says.

Sirius smiles. “Your offer is appreciated, Headmaster, but I can float myself.”

“Show-off,” grumbles Bones.

There is a flare of interest in Bones’ eyes which reminds Harry of how Susan had once looked at Cedric Diggory.

Harry would be amused in any other circumstance. He turns back to the stairs and starts down them. He really hopes that Dumbledore is right and that the spell is another check on his Knight status.

He steps onto the first glowing one with trepidation. It does nothing. He keeps going. He reaches the bottom without incident.

Dumbledore steps off the landing, his wand swishing back and forth in front of him as though he is enchanting the air in front of him. Harry briefly wonders why Dumbledore didn’t just walk down the safe steps even as Harry holds his breath in anticipation. Dumbledore floats calm and unperturbed as though he is unaffected by the effort of the spell. All goes without incident until he is above the top of the glowing step.

As Dumbledore begins to edge above it, a column of light erupts from the step and catches him within it. It fills the space from side to side and up-and-down blocking anyone from progressing past it in either direction.

“I’m unharmed!” Dumbledore calls out quickly, careful to keep his voice pitched low rather than to yell. “Just held fast! I recognise it now. It’s a variant on an old trick Grindelwald used to stop any enemies from following him.”

Harry pushes his glasses up his nose. “Can you get out of it or can we cast something to counter it?”

“I believe I can free myself but it will take time,” Dumbledore admits, chagrined.

Harry sighs. Somehow, deep down, he had always known that he would have to go it alone. At least this time there isn’t a wonky wand, a forgetting spell, and a cave-in. He nods.

“I’ll continue on,” Harry says, hiding the nerves he feels.

“Good luck, Harry,” Dumbledore says.

Harry takes a breath and sets off again.

He moves quicker along another passage, another sloping path downwards towards the dungeons.  Along the way he sees another snake statue pointing at a seemingly smooth wall. He figures the statues mark exits. Slytherin presumably wanted options instead of just going in and out through the lab. Harry ignores it and continues, hoping that the entrance wasn’t used by Imprint Riddle to escape.

He feels a small shift in Hermione’s presence and hurries.

There is a large door at the end of the tunnel and another snake statue.

Harry touches it gently with one hand and he raises his wand ready to give his oath, but the statue seems to only need his touch as the door clicks open.

He taps his head and makes himself fully invisible and hidden. He regrets not testing his invisibility cloak but he cannot spend the time to retrieve it from the emergency trunk and try it. He slides into the sliver of space the door opening has created and gently closes it behind him.

The chamber is a vast circular space with seven columns each bearing a huge snake statue. Harry darts behind the nearest one and shivers as he recognises it is depicting a basilisk.

A beautiful mosaic floor has a wonderful silver and green pattern covered with layers of dust. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling. It smells dank and dirty.

In the centre of the space, there is another set of snake statues and between them sits a large wooden trunk. In front it, there are three prone forms sprawled on the ground; Remus, Pettigrew and Hermione. Strangely there is no form of Riddle anywhere in sight. Instead, a beautiful Indo-Asian woman with long thick black hair and smooth olive skin stands in front of the trunk, examining it, her back to Harry.

Harry takes note of her outfit; floor-length silk dress with a flowy skirt in a deep rich purple with thin gold straps and a plunging back. Her upper right arm carries a gold band and a jewel of some kind sparkles from a pendant between her shoulder blades. She taps a wand against the trunk but nothing happens.

He can feel Hermione starting to stir in the family magic fighting whatever spell knocked her out in the first place.

A glint of silver on the ground catches his eye, a small round object. The pocket watch! If the watch is the anchor for the imprint, perhaps destroying it will see things to rights.

Except –

Where is Imprint Riddle?

In his memory, the manifestation of Riddle was close to the diary, Ginny almost dead beside him as he drained her of her magic.

Similar but same, Harry repeats to himself.

He knows Hermione isn’t possessed by the pocket watch imprint thanks to the family magic. Pettigrew was guarding the door of the lab. Remus is the obvious candidate…yet something nags at him. He distrusts Pettigrew fiercely, some of it driven by Wormtail’s betrayal, some of it driven by this Pettigrew’s clear dislike for Sirius and himself.

Hermione’s presence flowers inside the family magic like a rose blooming and he gives a silent thank you to the universe. She remains physically silent and still. He knows she’s taking stock. He sends a rush of support and assurance through the magic: he is here.

“You’re awake, Lady Hermione,” the woman says, her words slanted by an accent Harry doesn’t recognise. She turns to Hermione pointedly, revealing a stunningly beautiful Asian visage, dark eyes framed with long dark lashes. The front of her dress is almost as risqué as the back and a second choker necklace is clasped at the base of her throat.

Hermione stirs and sits up, taking a long look at the woman before getting to her feet. “You have me at a disadvantage,” she says dryly, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We have in a way,” the woman replies mockingly, “you met my thrall.” She points her wand at Pettigrew.

Harry frowns. Maybe they’ve got this all wrong. Maybe the pocket watch doesn’t have an imprint of Riddle at all. Maybe it was always this woman.

“May I know your name?” Hermione asks, brushing the dust and dirt from her summery dress.

The woman tosses back her black hair. “I am the Pendeta Wanita Ular.” She smiles coldly. “My people declared me the Naga reborn, Nagini.”

Hermione goes very still.

Harry feels the dread creeping over her and sends another wave of support and assurance even as he looks around trying desperately to think of a plan.

“You were in the pocket watch,” Hermione states. She tilts her head. “Unwillingly.”

Nagini regards her with a sharp look. “You seem surprised, Lady Hermione.” She points her wand, Pettigrew’s wand, at Hermione. “What was my fate in your world? My thrall was filled with anger about you and your husband.”

“It was not a kind one,” Hermione says, “do you really wish to know?”

Nagini smiles humourlessly. “Is knowledge not power?”

“A trade then,” Hermione says, “I answer your questions, you answer mine.”

“Do you really think you are in a position to dictate terms?” Nagini rejoins. “You are missing your wand.”

“Perhaps,” Hermione says cautiously, “but you no longer have anyone here I care about to save to demand compliance. Pettigrew is yours and you have subdued Lupin easily enough despite him wanting to save his friend.”

Harry knows that’s not quite true. She wants to save Remus and Pettigrew, but he understands her gambit.

“You do not wish to save yourself?” Nagina looks intrigued.

Hermione shrugs. “I would save myself to save Harry the pain of losing me, but this isn’t my world.”

Harry sucks in a breath.

Nagini smiles again. “A trade. You answer my question and open Slytherin’s trunk and I will answer your question.”

Hermione nods slowly. “I answer your question. I will attempt to open Slytherin’s trunk. You will answer two questions.”

Nagini nods. “We have an accord. You first. What was my fate?”

“Nagini was cursed through her female line to transform into a snake, ultimately becoming a snake and losing her rational human self,” Hermione’s tone takes the lecturing note of a professor. “Little is known about her early years, but it is known she was part of a travelling circus for a time in the nineteen-twenties. It is believed that she came to the attention of Gellert Grindlewald around then.”

A flicker of distaste storms across Nagini’s face. Harry is certain this Nagini also knew Grindelwald.

“However, reports of her disappear after that. When she was transformed fully into a snake, she was found by Tom Riddle and became his familiar,” Hermione says. “He made her into a horcrux and she did his bidding. She was killed by being cleaved through with a sword during the final battle where Harry defeated Riddle.”

Nagini is white with fury. “Bajingan!”

Harry assumes that is some kind of swear word.

The sword.

He was able to defeat the basilisk because Fawkes answered his faith in Dumbledore by appearing and bringing him the Sorting Hat which in turn gave him the sword.

Could he call the sword to him? But even if he had the sword, how would he use it? Wouldn’t he be better off just casting a sectumsempra? Except Nagini in snake form had been formidable and it was possible her skin was a shield. The sword had worked in their own world because it had been drenched in basilisk venom.

“My first question is to know your own history on this world, Lady Nagini,” Hermione asks quietly.

Nagini whirls away and paces a few steps, barefooted. “My people are a magical tribe, hidden for centuries in the Indonesian jungles. We were once venerated by the Unfortunate, those bereft of magic, as Gods for our ability to transform into the Giant Royal Cobra.”

Harry shudders.

“My own ability awoke as a child which is seen as a blessing from the Gods themselves,” Nagini continues. “I am to lead our people to greatness. I led the rebellion and forced invaders from our land, creating our independence!” She grimaces. “Grindelwald approached me then, promising to make me an Empress. He lied as all men do. He betrayed me, abandoned me for his precious Dumbledore, only to be betrayed in turn.”

Hermione winces sympathetically.

“I was imprisoned after the war tribunals in my snake form as punishment, exiled me to my home jungles,” Nagini hisses. “There, Riddle found me. When I refused to serve him, he trapped me in the pocket watch.” She smiles nastily. “But I found a way to use the pocket watch as a conduit; to drain his magic, to bind his will to mine.”

Hermione makes a low sound in the back of her throat. “You enthralled Riddle?”

Nagini shrugs indolently. “Unfortunately, his wife noticed. He did a ritual casting to force me out. I left him damaged, broken. His body poisoned.”

“You’re the reason he searched out the unicorns,” Hermione realised aloud.

Harry catches his breath. It feels weird to think of Nagini being against Riddle. His attention was snagged on Riddle having a wife. Maybe she was the witch who had impersonated Sara Wood, who had been with Riddle in their fight when Harry had burned him out of his body.

“He could not destroy me so he locked the watch away and gave it to a trusted follower. Gaius Malfoy was curious. I encouraged him to take me up. He dropped me in a forest. I believe I was briefly in your presence, the sense of you is familiar, but then…I do not remember until the Malfoy Lord retrieved me,” Nagini recounts. “Malfoy was angry at Riddle. He wanted me to find a way to destroy him utterly. He placed me in the pocket of a boy, powerful and vulnerable, but our way is not to wage war with children. I made the boy drop me at the first opportunity.”

Harry closes his eyes.

“Filch picked you up,” Hermione deduces.

Nagini hums. “My tribe has never abandoned our brethren, magic or no magic, they are ours. Argus was happy to share himself with me, to aide me in finding a way to sever Riddle’s leash on me.”

“Why did you attack Professor Wilde?” Hermione asks.

“He recognised the watch,” Nagini shrugs. “But Argus dropped me in his haste to leave the scene and this ferret picked me up.” She kicks Pettigrew. “Argus attempted to trade the secret of the lab to Pettigrew for my being returned to him, but Pettigrew would not let me go. They struggled and Argus fell, he hit his head and died. This worm set the explosion to hide his crime and timed it to happen when he was with others.”

Harry leans his head back on the column and closes his eyes. Poor Filch.

“I decided then that he would not live…”

Harry opens his eyes just in time to see Nagini’s fierce smile.  

“…I would possess him utterly and drain him dry.”

Chapter 12: Back to the Chamber

Harry watches as Hermione pales at the virulent hatred that coats Nagini’s words.

“How he fights me as I refuse to listen to the wolf try to convince him that the watch is Evil and should be handed to him for safe keeping, as I damage his friendships and ruin his life,” Nagini smiles again, “it is glorious.” Her eyes gleam. “I intend to make everyone who has had a hand in what has happened to me pay.” She points at Hermione. “You hope your rescue is on the way but I have left a trap for dear Albus. It will take him some time to get unstuck unless he is prepared to sacrifice a limb or his head.”

Hermione’s fear shivers through the family magic even as she outwardly pretends she is unaffected.

“Now,” Nagini points her wand directly at Hermione, “you have asked your questions. Open the trunk.”

“What if I offer for us to work with you against Riddle? What is that worth to you?” asks Hermione.

Nagini stills. “What would you ask in return?”

“You cannot defeat Riddle, I cannot share why, it is a secret given to an oath,” Hermione says. “But I would have your oath that you would never join with him nor harm my husband or his family.”

“Your husband and his family only and not you?” asks Nagini slowly. Her dark eyes assess Hermione. “You value yourself too little, little witch.”

Harry finds himself in the uncomfortable position of agreeing with Nagini.

“I value myself,” Hermione’s chin rises a touch in a stubborn line Harry knows only too well. “Am I not his family?”

“Your offer is…”

Suddenly, Remus lurches up from the floor and lunges for Nagini.

She transforms in an instant into a huge black-purple snake, evading his grasp and slithering through his outstretched hands which show the traits of his werewolf form, sharp claws protruding from his fingers.

Harry makes himself visible briefly and Hermione runs to him. He immediately casts an invisibility spell to cover them both and holds her tightly against him.

“Lily?” she whispers as Remus charges the snakes, his face half-wolf, half-man.

Harry casts a privacy bubble so they won’t be heard. “Safe,” he says. “In the infirmary.” He glances as the snake and wolf dance around each other. “This is not going to end well.”

“We should probably intervene,” Hermione says, her mouth close to her ear. “I think I was on the right track to convince her to let me help her and win her over to our side.”

Harry grimaces. “As much as I might not want to save Pettigrew, we can’t let her drain his body of magic though.”

Hermione presses closer. “You’re right but how do we save him?”

Myrtle’s face emerges from the column, startling them both.

She sniffs, her ghostly eyes wide behind her spectacles. “To move forward, you must move back. The Snake Knight’s trunk will take you to your destination.” She merges back with the column before they ask her anything else.

“Myrtle! Come back and explain that!” Hermione demands lowly. “More cryptic bloody nonsense!”

Harry looks back at the trunk. “Same but similar right. Events are a mixture of second and third year. We’re stuck in the chamber like second…”

“We have a feral werewolf like third,” Hermione murmurs, her hand sliding into her. “Time. That whole moving back to move forward. If we’re to find a way out of here, we have to find a way to travel through time.”

“The trunk then,” Harry says.

“I don’t have my wand,” Hermione says, sounding more irritated than distressed.

Harry shrugs. “It won’t be the first time we’ve both had to use the same wand.” He looks over to where Nagini and Remus are fighting. “On three, we go to the trunk. Keep hold of my hand.”

Hermione’s hand slides around his body, down his arm until her fingers tangle with his, her palm against his.

“One,” Harry says.

“Two,” Hermione murmurs.

“Three!”

They run together. Their free hands slap onto the trunk and…they fall through it…

They land on the other side, the wall behind them not the leather of a trunk but instead the stone wall in a room which looks like a library with bookshelves on the walls either side of them. To their right, a long table with chairs is placed with a snake statue just beyond it in between two bookcases.

Ahead the wall is dominated by four full length portraits separated by a clock in the centre: two men are on one side of the clock, two women on the other. All of the portraits appear to be sleeping. Under the portraits a wide hearth blooms with a warm fire which crackles and spits behind a silver guard bearing the Hogwarts heraldry. Two comfortable armchairs appear in front of the fireplace.

The dark-haired, olive-skinned bearded man dressed in green wizarding robes stirs within his portrait. He yawns, blinks black eyes at them, and does a doubletake.

“¡Merlín, eres tan joven!” He exclaims. He blinks again. “Ah, my apologies! The magic…it takes moment. Now I have the language!”

“You’re Salazar Slytherin,” Hermione says breathlessly.

The portrait nods his head. “Welcome, Knights of Avalon! You are here as foreseen! May I know your names?”

Harry bows his head a touch. “I am Harry Potter, Knight of Avalon. This is my wife, Hermione.”

Hermione bows her head. “It is a pleasure, Lord Slytherin.”

“Salazar, for are we all not Knights here?” Salazar says cheerfully.

Harry nods. “This is your Chamber of Secrets?”

The cosy library space was so much better than a vast empty dungeon filled with only a basilisk.

“Please! Come be seated!” Salazar claps his hands excitedly. “There will be refreshments!”

Harry and Hermione make their way to the chairs and sit down. It feels surreal given the fight outside of the trunk. Mugs of warming hot chocolate appear on side tables which form beside the chairs.

“This feels like the Room of Requirement,” Hermione picks up the hot chocolate and takes an appreciative sip.

“Ah, you have found Rowena’s gift to you already!” Salazar gestures with a flip of his hand. “She did help with mine also. Creating, how do you call it? A pocket dimension is difficult. The arithmancy calculations!” He shudders dramatically.

Harry ignores the drink. His blood is still buzzing with the need to do something. “As much as I want to just sit down and talk, we have a situation outside of the trunk.”

“Right,” Hermione takes another gulp of her hot chocolate. “We have a…a were-snake trapped in a watch by a Dark Lord and a half-feral werewolf trying to kill her in order to save his friend who apparently also killed the caretaker.”

Salazar blinks. “But time is not an issue, my friends! This is the gift, yes? The clock acts to turn back time all twelve hours.”

Harry and Hermione exchange a pleased look.

“We thought the trunk might hold a way for us to go back,” Hermione turns back to Salazar. “This is ingenious.”

Salazar visibly preens. “We all created gifts to aid the King’s Chosen.”

Hermione shifts to look at Harry again. “This is good. We can take the time to plan our next move and then go back to the exact time we left.”

Harry pushes his glasses up his nose. “We just can’t meet ourselves or change events which we know have already happened or participated in.”

Hermione nods. “But we know from our last experience that the assumptions we make about events may not be true. We saved Buckbeak when we thought he had been killed and you saved us from the dementors when you assumed it was your father.”

“So, events we can’t change: you working out how to gain entry to the chamber, your kidnapping, and my coming to rescue you with the others only for them to get stuck in Nagini’s trap,” Harry lists out.

Hermione lifts an eyebrow. “Maybe we should go over the events we went through so we know exactly what we are avoiding.”

Harry settles back and picks up his hot chocolate. “I think you should go first. Sirius and I left you and Lily to figure out what was wrong with the potion attempt to get into the chamber.”

“Ah,” Salazar says, “my red herring worked! Helga thought it would not.”

Hermione smiles. “The red herring definitely worked.” She sighs. “Lily and I called Regina. We went through the journal entries again that Dumbledore provided last week. I had thought the legacy Salazar referred to might not be potions, but as we already had ruled out parseltongue, the only other legacy I could think of was that of his being a Knight of Avalon.”

She pauses and takes a long drink from her mug. Her gaze is distant, looking into the past.

“We figured out that the familiar was important and what the name meant,” Hermione says. “We decided to go to the lab and try. If we found the entrance, we were going to wait for everyone else before venturing forward.”

Harry nods. “Regina said as much when we called her.”

A cat suddenly appears in Salazar’s painting, jumping onto his lap and demanding cuddles.

“This is my Norteña,” Salazar confirms happily. He pets his familiar with a loving look. “Merlin’s gift to each of us were our familiars so we would always have the comfort of companionship in fulfilling our service to the King.”

Harry stares at the cat. “Doesn’t that look like Mrs Norris?”

Hermione closes her eyes as she sighs heavily. “Norris also means Northerner.” She opens her eyes and glares at the painting. “Your cat is Mrs Norris.”

Salazar nods, gleeful. “She is gift from Avalonia, nine lives, yes? Mrs Norris is her sixth.”

“How did she get in your portrait?” demands Hermione.

“Magic!” exclaims Salazar with a laugh. He gestures to stop Hermione before she can begin to argue. “All animals may travel through the statues. Only my Norteña and her beloved may enter the trunk but when she does, she comes to my painting.”

“Her beloved?” Hermione asks faintly.

Salazar grins slyly. “A kneazle with a squished face and ginger coat.”

Crookshanks.

“Right,” Harry says, not wanting to get into a discussion about Crookshanks romantic endeavours with Mrs Norris at all, “at least we know where she went after Mister Filch died.” And why Crookshanks had just appeared out of nowhere in the lab. He must have travelled through the statues.

“Ah, but she is wishing revenge on his killer!” Salazar says.

“If Nagini drains Peter Pettigrew of life and magic, I think Norteña will have her revenge,” Hermione says dryly.

“Look, I’m not a fan of Pettigrew, but he should stand trial for his crime,” Harry points out. “Auror Bones said he was guarding the lab.”

“He was,” Hermione nods. “When we arrived, Remus was already talking with him, well, they were arguing.” She presses her lips together. “We couldn’t really tell what about.” She drains her mug and sets it down. “Lily managed to convince them to let us into the lab.”

“What happened then?” asks Harry.

“We opened the entrance,” Hermione says succinctly. “Only when Lily went to leave and tell everyone, Pettigrew grabbed her and put a wand to her head. Remus tried to get him to let her go and he knocked him out with a spell I hadn’t seen before. The entrance disappeared though while this was happening so he made me reopen it. I don’t remember anything else until waking in the chamber.”

Harry sighs, rubbing his temple. “I felt you and Lily in the family magic, hurt and distressed. We’d just finished the duelling club – oh, Charlie had the watch first. He thought his mother had put it into his pocket. He lost it during detention on the first night in the trophy room. He was asking Bill to help him get it back.”

“Nagini said Filch picked it up,” Hermione says.

Harry nods. “I heard your discussion with her.” He sighs. “Sirius and I found Lily out cold. Pettigrew or Nagini must have hit her with The Assassin’s Mask, her armband was black.”

Hermione’s eyes widen. “But she is OK?”

“She’s alright, the armband worked,” Harry assures her, “James and Snape took her to the infirmary.”

Hermione breathes out heavily in relief. She grimaces. “That had to have been Nagini not Pettigrew.”

“We can’t let her get free of the watch,” Harry says.

Hermione scratches her head. “You killed the spirit of Riddle by stabbing the diary with a basilisk fang, if we destroy the watch…”

“You will either kill the trapped witch or set her free depending on which spell was used to trap her,” Salazar says, drawing their attention. He looks at them sombrely. “This Nagini, did she give another name?”

“She introduced herself as Pendeta Wanita Ular,” Hermione answers.

Salazar brow lowers. “The Priestess of Snakes, the tribe of the Naga. They are a cult of assassins. My Abuela would talk of them with fear. Beautiful men and women sent to lure the unsuspecting to their death.”

“We can’t risk her leaving the watch then,” Hermione says, looking over to Harry with a worried frown.

“We have to get possession of the watch,” Harry agrees. “Maybe we can sever the drain on Pettigrew with distance?”

“Or you kill this Pettigrew before she can take all of his magic and life,” Salazar suggests so matter-of-factly that Harry blinks.

“Let’s try a non-lethal approach first,” Hermione says briskly. “What about Remus?”

“We contain him, silver ropes maybe? They’d incapacitate him rather than kill him,” Harry says. “It’s a shame Sirius is stuck on the bookcase with Dumbledore. He managed to run Remus off the last time turning into…” he slaps himself. “Godric! If I bring Godric here, he can herd Remus away from Nagini and I can knock him out.”

“Plan A then, we go back, get Godric, come back to the chamber, and hide until we know our past selves have entered the chamber,” Hermione pauses. “You know what I mean.” She waves at him. “How do we get back out of the chamber and back here if the lab is guarded?”

“I placed statues around Hogwarts to have many exits for me to use,” Salazar says. “Rowena consented to the one here in the trunk connecting to her own room.”

“We should definitely use it,” Hermione says.

“When we come back, one of us can hide near the same basilisk column but invisible,” Harry suggested. “We came into the trunk only a few minutes after Myrtle appeared to us.”

Hermoine nods. “That works. Maybe we can spell your glasses to see us.” She points at him. “You give me a signal. I go for the watch and to get my wand out of Pettigrew’s robe. You go for Remus.” She jumps to her feet and looks at the bookshelves with gleaming avarice. “I need to find a spell to sever the connection between Pettigrew and Nagini.”

“I think you’ll find the bookshelves on your left to be of use,” Salazar offers, waving towards them from his portrait.

The next two hours disappear in a flash.

Harry works on his glasses while Hermione finds a containment spell which will keep a magical entity from breaching their containment object. They force themselves to eat the light snack Salazar insists upon before they leave.

Hermione carefully turns the hands of the clock back to when they were in the lab observing the potions.

They head to the statue on the other side of the room and place their hands upon it. The world blurs and a door opens in front of them, the Room of Requirement projects an empty blank space.

Harry looks back at the portrait of Salazar. He is sleeping again.

Hermione takes Harry’s hand as they step through the doorway. The door closes sharply behind them but a snake statue appears beside them pointing the way back.

Hermione hefts a sigh of relief. “Right, I’ll stay here while you get Godric.”

Harry nods.  He makes his way through Hogwarts speedily under the cover of another invisibility spell. He retrieves Godric, fastens his leash to his wrist, and makes the grim invisible too. He heads back to the Room of Requirement. He turns down one corridor and darts back as he spots his past self just turning into it, walking back to the quarters with Sirius and Hermione.

He hurries forward and darts into another alcove to avoid Dumbledore and Aurelius.

“…I’ve told you already, Uncle, I don’t know. I lost touch with all of Mother’s friends when you took legal guardianship of me,” Aurelius says calmly.

“These spells that are being used were Nagini’s weapons of choice; she was your godmother,” Dumbledore says, pulling his nephew to a stop. “If you know anything about her current whereabouts, if you know if she got free of her sentence from the ICW, you must tell me.”

Aurelius stiffens and glares angrily at his uncle. “I haven’t heard from Nagini since you allowed us a few minutes to say goodbye before she was locked into her snake form and banished! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have essays to mark!” He storms away.

Dumbledore vibrates with frustration, his face red. He whirls around and walks away in the opposite direction.

Harry quickly makes his way back to the Room.

“Where have you been?” asks Hermione as a newly visible Godric bounces over to her to say hello and demand attention.

“I had to avoid Dumbledore and Aurelius,” Harry says. “I’ll tell you about it later. We should get on with this.”

Hermione nods. “Let’s get back to the trunk.” She places her hand on the statue.

They are barely back in the cosy trunk room before Hermione moves the clock forward again to just before her own abduction from the lab.

They step out into an empty chamber, vast and echoing.

Hermione kisses him softly. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Harry says.

In some ways, he’s not alone in the chamber as he was with the basilisk; he’s pleased she’s with him, but he can’t help worrying about her. Invisibility back in place, Hermione hides on the opposite side of the trunk, close enough to grab her wand from Pettigrew and cast a spell on the pocket watch.

Harry heads behind the column next to the one he’d chosen earlier. Godric lies down at Harry’s feet and they wait. It is too quiet with even their breaths masked.

A moment later, the chamber door creeps open and the enthralled and possessed Pettigrew enters floating Hermione and Remus. He drops them not to gently on the floor. He takes a step towards the trunk, stops and groans…

Nagini’s ghostly snake form pours out of his open mouth coiling down to land on the floor, becoming corporeal and physically solid.

Pettigrew collapses and the pocket watch drops from his robes and rolls away to the side.

Nagini shudders and between one blink of an eye and the next, she is human. She stretches languidly, her groan of relief echoing.

She starts to examine the trunk.

Harry waits.

It feels like an hour passes before the chamber door creaks open. His glasses light up the form of his past invisible-self sliding into the chamber and taking cover.

Harry waits.

Events roll forward and he plays witness again to Hermione awakening, to her conversation with Nagini, to Remus attacking…

Myrtle appears to the invisible couple beside him and he watches with held breath as he and Hermione disappear into the trunk. He sends up a storm of shooting sparks to signal Hermione and cause a distraction before he sends Godric to corral Remus. He makes himself visible and runs towards Nagini giving an invisible Hermione her chance to grab her wand and the watch.

Nagini seems to sense Hermione anyway. She gives an inhuman cry and launches herself back towards the trunk.

Remus snarls as Godric lands in front of him, stopping him from progressing. Remus tries to strike the grim with a clawed hand, but Godric dodges and leaps, closing his jaws around Remus’ throat and taking him to the ground.

Harry sends an overpowered sleep spell and knocks Remus out fully. He orders Godric to guard him and turns back…

A very visible Hermione is being chased by Nagini across the chamber, away from the pocket watch.  Harry runs to get it and…

The chamber door bursts open and Dumbledore strides out, robes billowing behind him, wand already casting…

Blue lightning snaps across the space, almost hitting Harry before it impacts the pocket watch and shatters it completely.

Everyone stops as silver, metal and glass shards fly upward, spinning in the air…and something magical snaps like a clap of thunder…

Nagini shifts back to her human form, glaring angrily at Dumbledore. “Thank you for severing my connection with the watch, Albus.”

“You are an international criminal, Lady Nagini,” Dumbledore says gravely, “you should lay down that wand and surrender yourself to Auror Bones.”

Bones hovers at Dumbledore’s right side. Sirius steps towards Harry silently.

“Never!” Nagini hisses. “I will have my vengeance! You and your world will burn, Albus Dumbledore!” She leaps, transforming into her snake form mid-air, and diving into the nearest statue to her.

Animals can leave the chamber, Harry remembers.

Dumbledore’s blasting spell follows after her and cracks the face of the statue, a web of lines spinning across the surface as a dust cloud rises.

“Shut down the wards, Headmaster!” Bones orders.

Dumbledore shakes his head. “It’s too late! I don’t know where those statues lead, but she’s not within the castle grounds anymore.”

A soft sound draws their attention.

Pettigrew stirs and groans, a hand rising to hold his head.

“You should arrest him,” Hermione says, joining Harry and Sirius.

Harry slides his arm around Hermione. “Nagini said he was the one who killed Argus Filch. She might have been lying but he should be held until it can be ruled out.”

Bones nods and moves forward.

Pettigrew suddenly shifts. His ferret scampers across the ground at speed clearly attempting the same escape as Nagini.

Harry raises his wand but before he can cast, there is a blur of fur leaping from the trunk.

Mrs Norris pounces, her jaws closing around the back of the ferret’s neck, her teeth sinking in deeply.

Pettigrew transforms back with a shout, his hands reaching behind him to try and grab the cat.

Crookshanks emerges from the statue by the trunk and attacks his leg, creating a diversion for Mrs Norris who jumps down and sits. She starts licking her paw as though she is completely untroubled but her green eyes follow a hopping Pettigrew who is desperately trying to get free of the kneazle.

Hermione shoots a knockout spell at Pettigrew and he slumps to the ground. Crookshanks jumps away and goes over to cuddle with Mrs Norris.

Hermione huffs. “Well, I don’t know about anyone else but I am very done with this day.”

“I concur,” Harry says tiredly. Unfortunately, he knows they’ll probably have a debrief to attend. He and Hermione will need to think carefully about what they share of Salazar’s secrets as they recount events with the rest of their family and with the War Council.

Bones places Pettigrew into cuffs which she claims will prevent him from attempting another transformation. Meanwhile Dumbledore creates a portkey to send Remus straight to his locked room. Harry concedes it’s the safest decision.

Crookshanks follows Mrs Norris into the trunk and Harry leashes Godric for the trip out. They all troop back down the tunnel, Bones and Dumbledore levitating Pettigrew behind them. They have to repair the staircase on their way as apparently Dumbledore’s approach to getting free of the trap was blasting the steps where Nagini had laid her trap.

At the end of the first tunnel, Harry and Hermione open the exit and step out into a lab filled with Aurors and a furious looking Moody.

“Why is Peter in cuffs?!” asks Croaker urgently.

Harry and Hermione bypass the huddle, Sirius right beside them. They leave the explanations to Bones and Dumbledore, instead heading towards the infirmary without discussion. Sirius peels off to their quarters on the way, taking Godric with him. He’ll update Charlus, Dorea, and Arcturus on the main events, saving Harry and Hermione from having to explain.

James sits beside Lily’s bed, holding one of her hands above the pale pink blanket which clashes terribly with her hair. Lily is fast asleep.

“How is she?” asks Hermione, hurrying over.

James adjusts his glasses as he tears his gaze away from Lily and turns to look at them. “She’s good. She was conscious for a bit before she fell asleep. She said Pettigrew was the one who was possessed. He cast at her when she tried to stop him knocking out Hermione.”

Hermione grimaces. “She should have protected herself.”

James looks at her pointedly. “She did what anyone of us would have done. Didn’t you try to protect her by complying with Possessed Peter?”

Hermione sighs. Harry puts his arm around her consolingly.

“On the good news front, Ariana says the armband worked perfectly. She just got hit with a magical backlash. She’ll sleep for a day and should be fine,” James continues. He rubs his forehead. “What happened in the chamber?”

Harry gives him a quick summary.

James’ lips twist at the news of Pettigrew’s murder of Filch. “Merlin.” He shakes his head. “Are we sure he wasn’t possessed?”

“Possessed, but Nagini blamed him entirely for Filch’s demise,” Harry says, sensing Hermione’s tiredness. “She seemed fond of Filch.”

“Wow,” James shakes his head again. “I just can’t believe it.”

Ariana enters from the back and arrows in on Hermione. “Good, you came straight here. Let’s get you examined.”

Harry sees Hermione’s want to protest but he gives her a pointed look and she subsides. She moves to the bed next to Lily and Ariana steps up to examine her.

“You’re magically exhausted,” Ariana declares. “I subscribe a beef broth for nourishment, a bubble bath, and an early night.”

Hermione nods. “Sounds like a perfect plan to me.”

Ariana stares at Harry.

“I’m fine!” He quickly says.

She sniffs and hits him with a diagnostic spell anyway. She looks at the results and nods. “A good meal and an early night.”

Harry nods.

She sweeps out and Harry gives a relieved sigh.

“You should get on that plan,” James says encouragingly. “I’m going to stay with Lily.”

“Tell her we’ll see her tomorrow,” Hermione says.

Harry takes her hand and they make their way out of the infirmary and back down the corridor.

They step into their quarters with relief. Godric raises his head briefly from his place on the rug but Sirius is missing and Harry appreciates the peaceful quiet.

Hermione shifts and Harry opens up his arms to hold her. They hug each other tightly. They kiss gently before easing away and stepping towards the sitting area…

Myrtle’s ghostly form coalesces directly in front of them, startling them into taking a step back, clutching onto one another.

“Beware!” Myrtle says dreamily. “The Evil Snake is free and no-one is safe from her venom; to save the King the Knight must end the Riddle and defeat her.”

She sinks back into the floor.

Harry swallows hard as his eyes meet Hermione’s frantically. They might have solved the latest mysteries of the artefact sent to terrorise the school, of who had possession of it, where Myrtle is and how to enter Slytherin’s chamber, but it all feels suddenly irrelevant.

Nagini is the one whom Harry has been command by the King to defeat.

She is their mission, Nagini is the Evil which walks.

fin.

End note: Please like, share, and comment if you enjoyed the story – it helps to support the website.I’m aiming for the next in the series, The Calling Void, to be out in 2027 subject to my health issues, with a subscriber exclusive of the first chapter posted on Evil Author Day. I’ll never ask you to pay to read my fanfiction – you can subscribe for free to see the subscriber exclusives, but if you would like to support my original writing, you can donate via the website here or buy me a cup of coffee over on ko-fi.