Hunter's Hunters, Part I
Summary: before Harry and Ron grew so hysterical over Ginny’s plight as to appeal to Lockhart, they had planned to tell the acting Headmistress their deductions about the Basilisk and let adults deal with the crisis.
*
“Bad Mouth,” from Snake Poems, by Margaret Atwood
Each one is a hunter’s hunter,
nothing more than an endless gullet
pulling itself on over the still-alive prey
like a sock gone ravenous, like an evil glove
like sheer greed, lithe and devious.
*
“Just the man. The very man,” Severus breathed. Had that dulcet hatred been directed at him, Filius would have been grabbing his wand to craft an emergency Portkey. But Gilderoy was as great a fool as a braggart; he beamed at Snape’s greeting. Severus smiled back, and Gilderoy looked suddenly uncertain. The Potions master’s smile widened. “A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.”
The gilded popinjay went white.
Filius opened his hand to Pomona, courteously allowing her the second shot. She’d been waiting even longer than he, poor overly-polite Pomona. She chirped, “That’s right, Gilderoy. Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”
Gilderoy stuttered unintelligibly. Filius kept his own voice light as he took his turn. “Yes, didn’t you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?”
Regulating his voice had been well worth the effort, Filius decided. Contrast was all, in art. As he’d anticipated, Severus’s voice was heavy with sarcasm as the potions master rejoined the fray, reminding the blowhard that he’d claimed from the first that he “should have been given a free rein.”
Minerva took up Severus’s hint for the coup de grâce, crisply offering the coward, “A free rein at last!”
Minerva’s nostrils flared in disgust as Gilderoy slunk out of the room. Severus and Filius traded thin-lipped grins of momentary satisfaction.
Only momentary. Gilderoy, however annoying, had never been the real problem.
“Right, that’s got him out from under our feet-” began Minerva.
She was interrupted by the wardrobe bursting open, spilling a dark-haired child all over the floor. Harry Potter looked up at the acting headmistress and wailed, “You can’t mean to leave rescuing Ginny to him?!”
After a frozen moment, Minerva exclaimed, “Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this?”
“We came in here to wait for you, to tell you-” Her eyebrows rose at the “we,” and she drew her wand, gesturing at the wardrobe. The other door flew wide, disclosing the youngest Weasley boy slumped amidst the staff cloaks. Poppy clucked and rushed forward; in a moment she had levitated the boy out, in another she had revived him. “Fainted at the news, I expect,” she told the others. “Nothing really amiss. No, don’t try to stand yet, Mr. Weasley.” Filius walked an armchair over, and she placed the boy firmly in it. Harry Potter scrambled to his feet beside him.
Minerva regarded them both grimly. “Now. From the beginning, Mr. Potter.”
He took a breath. “When we visited Hermione-like you said we could, Professor-we found this in her hand….”
Irma hissed at the desecration of one of her books, but Minerva smoothed out the page and examined it. Her eyebrows climbed again. Harry said eagerly, “That’s the answer, see! Hermione figured it out! The monster is a basilisk, and it’s been moving through the pipes, and the entrance to the chamber is in Moaning Myrtle’s loo, where she was killed by it fifty years ago!”
“Mr. Potter,” rumbled Kettleburn, “you’re mistaken. A basilisk has no power to petrify; it simply kills, by its gaze or by its bite.”
“But that’s why Hermione had that mirror, see,” the child argued. “No one has died because no one actually looked it in the eye! Colin saw it through his camera, and Justin looked at it through Nearly Headless Nick, that’s why Nick got it too, and Hermione and that prefect saw it in the mirror. Even Mrs. Norris-she must have seen its reflection in the water on the floor that night! Every case works-we worked it out!”
Filius turned the problem over in his mind. No, he couldn’t recall any tales of anyone encountering a reflected basilisk stare. Of course, the last European to have created one was in 1248, if Filius recalled correctly. Mirrors were then rare and expensive, and lenses were unknown except in the regions under the Sultanate’s influence. So if the power of a basilisk’s gaze could be weakened by mirrors or lenses, who in Europe would have known it? There was, moreover, the Gorgon legend in support.
It wasn’t impossible.
But was there any actual evidence for the monster being a basilisk? Surely it was more likely that some rare magical beast or being with the power of petrification had escaped detection than that a known creature had entirely unknown powers….
The boy added, “I’ve been-I’ve been hearing it, see. In the walls. A voice that Ron and Hermione couldn’t hear-Hermione figured out, she must have, that it was speaking in Parseltongue, that’s why I was the only one who could hear it-” He looked sick. “It kept saying stuff like it smelled blood….”
Minerva straightened abruptly. “Mr. Potter! You heard a voice in the walls and did not TELL us? When did this start?”
Harry turned scarlet. “Um-the second time was Halloween. That’s what I-we-were doing in that corridor when we found Mrs. Norris. I was trying to find where the voice was coming from.” At Minerva’s glare, he dropped his gaze and said defensively, “It said it wanted to kill!”
“So, naturally, you rushed in to provide the unknown monster with a better victim than a cat,” Severus drawled. Filius’s mouth twitched.
Silvanus broke in, “Hagrid’s roosters were killed at the beginning of the year; that does provide some support for the boy’s tale. Did anyone notice the castle’s spiders fleeing last fall?”
The Weasley boy nodded eagerly. “We saw that! Spiders running away. And the Acromantulas in the forest are afraid of it-” Minerva’s change of expression made him stop abruptly.
Minerva demanded, “And you would know this, because, Mr. Weasley?”
Both boys looked at their feet. Minerva stalked over and put one hand on the arm of Weasley’s chair, looming over the two children. “You entered the Forbidden Forest and spoke with the Acromantulae? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? In Merlin’s name, how did you ever get away?”
“The car rescued us,” Weasley muttered, still looking at the floor. “M’dad’s car, that we had crashed there. It had gone wild, but it rescued us.”
“Fifty points from Gryffindor for extreme lack of sense!”
Potter looked up at that. “But Hagrid-sort of told us to! When he was being taken away, he told us to follow the spiders! We were just doing what he said!”
“Sixty points! Each! I expect my students to exercise better judgment than Hagrid.” Potter’s eyes widened, and he subsided. Minerva added, “And fifty points each to Gryffindor, for having the sense to come to me now, however belatedly.” The boys’ faces brightened momentarily at the last statement, then fell again as they did the math. Minerva straightened and looked over at Kettleburn. “Silvanus?”
“Roosters killed-spiders fleeing-“ Kettleburn ticked off points on his thick fingers. “A Parselmouth hearing voices in the wall. If we accept that a reflected gaze might petrify instead of kill, it does fit.”
“A basilisk,” Minerva whispered, her face whitening. She turned back to the boys. “What was it that you said about the entrance to the Chamber, Mr. Potter?”
The boy took a deep breath. “If it’s moving through the plumbing, then I think it comes out in Moaning Myrtle’s loo. Where she was killed. And there was water on the floor outside there where Mrs. Norris was attacked.”
Severus folded his arms and looked down his long nose at the boys. “Mr. Potter. Can you possibly imagine that we overlooked that possibility Hallowe’en night? The headmaster and I examined every room on the corridor where Mrs. Norris was attacked, on the adjoining corridors, and on the floors immediately above and below. We checked that bathroom, and there was no trace of dark magic anywhere. Nor had Miss Jennings-Myrtle Jennings, whom you miscall Moaning Myrtle-nor any other of the ghosts normally haunting that part of the building, seen or heard anything amiss.”
“But-they were all at the Deathday party, at least for a while, weren’t they? And I only heard it because I speak Parseltongue,” Harry argued. “If it had already gone into the plumbing when Moaning Myrtle got back to her loo, there would have been nothing to see, would there?”
The Potions master frowned in consideration. Filius thought a moment and pointed out, “If the Basilisk’s lair were far away through the pipes, the only magic left to be detected would be whatever was needed to open the pipes. Which need not have been dark at all, and which might be quite minor, really.”
Severus considered that, then grunted and turned away. From Severus in this mood, that ranked as a ringing endorsement of their reasoning.
Minerva took it as such; she said to the other staff, “Provisionally, then, we’ll assume we’re dealing with a basilisk, that it lairs in the so-called Chamber of Secrets, and that the Chamber is connected to the rest of the castle through the plumbing. Obviously, the only way to recover Miss Weasley is to go after her. So we need to determine how to open the entrance, and we’ll need a team prepared to deal with a basilisk on its home territory.”
Potter said, “We’re the ones who figured it out, and Ginny is his sister. So you have to take us with you, Professor McGonagall!”
The Weasley boy jumped off his chair and stood beside Potter, nodding vigorously.
Minerva looked a very long way down at the little boys and said softly, “Mr. Potter. Miss Granger was the one who figured it out, not ‘we’. She did so in part because she had access to information denied her teachers; to wit, that a Parselmouth had been hearing the monster speaking within the walls.
“Had you seen fit to divulge this information to the headmaster or to your head of house, we might have solved the puzzle and caught the basilisk long since. So your decision to withhold relevant information from adults is directly responsible for the continued attacks. You are in no position to make demands of me, Mr. Potter.”
The boy went white. “I thought-I just thought-Ron said that hearing voices no one else could isn’t a good sign even in the Wizarding world-and I, I didn’t realize it was a clue, I thought it was-was maybe something wrong with me….”
Severus sneered, “And you thought that the information that you might be mentally instable would be of no conceivable interest to your teachers, Potter?” Minerva gave Severus a sharp look, and he subsided.
The boy shot Snape a look of loathing and stammered, “Actually what I thought was-the Sorting Hat had said, had said last year, that I’d do well in Slytherin. What I thought, what I was afraid of, was that I had slimy Slytherin tendencies, and that they were coming out without my being able to stop them! I didn’t want anyone to know!”
Filius glanced at Severus to see how he took the slur upon his house-and that rather interesting information. Severus did nothing but fold his arms and narrow his eyes at the boy. As Potter was staring at his own feet again, the boy didn’t benefit from Snape’s display.
The Weasley boy’s reaction, however, made up for Severus’s moderation: he gasped and backed away from Potter. Potter’s gaze swung up; he flinched and clapped his hands over his mouth. Then he reached out awkwardly to his friend, stammering, “But-but, Ron, the hat just, like. just suggested that, just for a minute, but then it put me in Gryffindor after all! So I am a true Gryffindor, really I am!”
Weasley took another step back and said, “It didn’t-it didn’t have to think about me, not even for a minute. Or any of my family. It knew right away where we belonged. You, and Hermione, and Neville-it didn’t really want you for our house, did it? Did it? Really?” He backed a little further. “You ARE a Parselmouth. How do I know you’re NOT the one who’s really doing it? Maybe you cheated the hat to get in with us, just so you could attack us later! Almost all the victims are Gryffindors, after all.”
Filius tried to interject a note of sanity. “Mr. Potter cannot be both here and in the Chamber, Mr. Weasley.”
Snape added, “And you yourself told us, Mr. Weasley…. On the occasion of the first attack, you and Miss Granger both testified that you were with Potter continually from Sir Nicholas’s Deathday party until you all discovered Mrs. Norris’s body-am I to understand now that you were then lying on Potter’s behalf, to provide him with an alibi?”
“No,” the Weasley boy muttered.
Severus lifted an eyebrow at Filius. “You may at least be assured, Filius, that neither boy was ever considered for your house. I’m sure that the reflection consoles you.”
Potter swelled a little at Severus’s provocation and opened his mouth to answer. Then he caught Minerva’s stare and shut it again. He looked over at his friend and sagged, then turned back to Minerva, “But if you do think it’s my fault, partly, that Ron’s sister is down there-then you have to let me help fix it, Professor McGonagall.”
The adults looked away from the drooping boy. Minerva said, more gently than before, “Your AND Ron’s fault, before, was hiding information from adults. The help we needed from you was what you have just given us, coming forward to tell us what you know. Mr. Weasley, I am horrified that you could suspect your friend, even for a minute, just because he told you the Sorting Hat considered putting him in another house. And Mr. Potter, I am gravely disappointed in both of you, that you both seem to imagine being sorted to Slytherin to be tantamount to being evil. Being proud of being a Gryffindor is one thing; I expect that of my house. Thinking it bad to be a Slytherin is quite another matter. Slytherins are your rivals, not your enemies, and not your inferiors. Ten more points from each of you for speaking so disrespectfully of another house. And you will both apologize to Professor Snape for casting such aspersions.”
Severus snorted, watching the boys’ body language, and Filius had to agree: if ever a lecture was a waste of breath, that one was. At least the Weasley boy had moved a little closer to Potter and traded a glance with him, before they each muttered an ungracious, “Sorry, Professor Snape.”
But while Minerva had been admonishing her charges, Filius had been mulling over the Potter boy’s talents and coming to some unwelcome conclusions. He said, “It might well be the case, Professor McGonagall, that Parseltongue is required to open that entrance. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth, after all. Forcing an entry without that advantage might take days, depending on the defenses layered on it besides the secrecy that has guarded it thus far. The headmaster and Severus didn’t even spot it before.”
Minerva met Filius’s eyes and blinked. She exhaled and turned to the Potter boy. “Mr. Potter. I have no doubts that you belong in my house-for my sins, no doubt. I might be willing to let you come with me to try to open the entrance, but only under-”
“Headmistress,” Severus interrupted, laying a very slight stress on the title. She permitted the interruption and turned to him, but her face was set. Snape continued, “We face multiple challenges. A child, it is alleged, has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. We presume that another student is responsible for this. If so, some student has both the skill and the malice required to open the chamber and to control a Basilisk, without ever having roused any teacher’s suspicion. If not, some outsider has penetrated Hogwarts’ best protections to perpetrate this… incident. We staff, therefore, must work simultaneously to recover the victim, to apprehend the miscreant, to protect the other students, and to neutralize the threat posed by the monster.
“One person only, however, in the headmaster’s absence, can work with the Ministry to change the Floo to allow physical access to the castle, either to allow Aurors entry or to evacuate the children. And one only can command the other staff.”
A muscle jumped in the acting Headmistress’s jaw as she reluctantly considered Snape’s argument. She lifted her chin and said, “Then I authorize a team consisting of yourself and Silvanus, Severus, to investigate the so-called Chamber of Secrets and to use all necessary means against whatever you may find within.” She caught Kettleburn’s eyes; he nodded at once.
Snape nodded also. “If I might recommend, Headmistress-three groups. One to penetrate the supposed Chamber, to attempt to recover…,” his eye slid to the youngest Mr. Weasley, still standing white-faced a little away from his friend, “Miss Weasley. Another team as backup in the washroom believed to be the basilisk’s egress, should the basilisk escape the first. And a third-not a team, exactly, but we should have a staff member dispatched to each of the common rooms, to guard the children while you arrange evacuation, since it is only an unsupported supposition that the basilisk can enter the castle through only that one exit in the plumbing.”
Minerva nodded impatiently and looked over the rest of her staff. “Charity and Aurora then, as the backup team.” They nodded in tandem, a little pale. Filius felt a stab of disappointment. Minerva glanced at him. “One house head is enough-too much!-to risk so directly, Filius.”
Severus interrupted a second time. “A moment, Headmistress. I respect your reasoning, but I request Filius for the team in the Chamber.”
Minerva looked at him. He explained, “Along with the basilisk, we may be facing someone who claims to control it. Even should that person have the advantage of being another Parselmouth, controlling such a creature argues for a rather formidable degree of power.”
Severus waited for the narrowing of Minerva’s eyes and spoke again. “While Silvanus and I deal with the monster, I should like a duelist available to deal with its controller.”
Minerva visibly fought down her desire to join the assault team. She said tersely, “You may have Filius, Severus. I’ll find another guard for Ravenclaw. Go now!”
“There is a spell I which I remember reading, developed, they say, by the last witch in Europe to slay a basilisk…. Filius, Silvanus, meet me in twenty minutes in the washroom in question.”
Severus whirled to leave, and Harry Potter flung himself in his path. “What about me? You might need me to open the Chamber, Professor Flitwick said so! Take me with!”
Severus snapped, “I will not take a child into this danger. You waste my time, Potter.”
The boy grabbed at the man’s arm; Severus hissed and recoiled at the liberty. The boy said, “But you might need me! Professor Flitwick said! The other one, the person doing this, probably speaks Parseltongue too. And-and if it’s partly my fault for not telling Professor Dumbledore what I was hearing when he asked-then I should help to fix it. You have to let me fix it! You have to!”
Severus hesitated at that, unexpectedly, and regarded the child more closely. Then he stalked back to Minerva and said something in her ear, inaudible to the others. After a moment she nodded grim assent and Severus turned back to the boy. “Potter. I will accept your assistance upon one condition only: that you promise to obey any order I might give, instantly, while we’re on this hunt. If I say to duck, if I say to run-no arguments, no hesitation, no Gryffindor displays of rashness. Do I have your word?”
Harry hesitated and then nodded. Severus turned to Filius. “Have him in the washroom in twenty minutes’ time, please.”
“What about me?” the Weasley boy blurted. “She’s my sister-I have more right than Harry-”
Severus strode out, not pausing even to deny him.
Filius fingered his wand, prepared to stop the boy forcibly if need be, but Weasley turned instead in appeal to Minerva, who said, “She’s also Percy’s sister, and the twins’, and the housemate of everyone in Gryffindor. It’s not a matter of rights, Ron. Harry’s Parseltongue talent may be required, that’s all; if any teacher had that ability, Mr. Potter would be going with you right now. I’ll make sure that you and all your family are informed of developments the instant that I learn them. Which will be easier if you’re together with your brothers.”
The boy opened his mouth to argue; Minerva cut in, “Anything you say now will just delay our acting to help your sister, Mr. Weasley, which I know you don’t wish.” She turned away from him, surveying the faculty. “Madam Pince, if you’ll guard Slytherin, Professor Babbling, Ravenclaw, and Professor Vector, Gryffindor…. Poppy, I’ll also ask the ministry to open floo connections from the house common rooms to the Hospital Ward; prepare for emergencies, including if any of the children should panic and stampede. If the guards would go at once to the various common rooms, and to verify who besides Miss Weasley might be missing…. Septima?”
The redheaded boy still looked mutinous; Vector sighed and said, “Mr. Weasley, I can stun and levitate you, or we can walk. Which is your preference?” She opened the door with a wave of her wand and a word, and then turned to her charge, wand still in hand.
With a last furious glare at Potter, Weasley trailed her out. Filius heard Septima saying conversationally, “Your brothers Bill and Percy both excel at Arithmancy. Do you think you’ll take my class next year?”
The door swung shut on a sullen mutter from the boy. Filius returned his attention to the acting headmistress.
Minerva said, “Cuthbert, will you tell the other ghosts what Miss Granger has discovered, that their intervention can apparently protect students from actual death from the basilisk’s gaze? Make sure they understand that we hope, but are not entirely sure, that we can subsequently revive the petrified ghosts as well as the students. I am asking for volunteers to guard each common room, and to join the two teams dealing directly with the basilisk. Will you coordinate this?”
Cuthbert nodded with more energy than he usually showed and drifted out through the wall. Minerva surveyed her remaining corporate staff. “The rest of you, stay here so I can reach you immediately if I need you.”
Charity said, “Wait a mo. No girl’s loo is going to have a floo connection-how can we communicate with you, headmistress?”
Minerva’s lips thinned. “Excellent point, Charity. Argus, which is the nearest room that does have a fireplace that is or could be connected?”
Argus screwed his rheumy eyes shut for a moment, then said, “Unused classroom three doors down the corridor.”
Minerva said, “In sight as well as earshot of the bathroom?”
Argus nodded; Minerva said, “Then, Rolanda, I’m afraid I’ll need to station you there. I’ll be in the headmaster’s office; I need to contact the Ministry and the governors. Charity, will you come with me first? There’s something of the headmaster’s Severus said he might need. Those of you I’ve assigned posts, to them, please.”
There was a general exodus from the staffroom.
Silvanus and Aurora considerately ambled so as not to outpace Filius’s short legs and the boy’s. Silvanus entertained them on their walk with apocryphal tales of basilisk-hatchings and slayings through the ages; he seemed to feel that a beast with one of the few near-incurable venoms on the planet and a lethal gaze should pose little threat to a trained wizard.
Of course, Silvanus had thought the same of the dragonet that bit off his left hand, so his judgment, to Filius’s mind, was nearly as suspect as Hagrid’s. And Filius noted that none of Kettleburn’s tales actually went into detail on the techniques used by the purported basilisk-slayers. The only good news was, it seemed that the basilisk had no specific protection against spells; it relied on its formidable offensive magic for its protection. But a creature one couldn’t look at-how could one see to aim?
Much would depend on the terrain, of course. And they would be attacking it on its home ground.
*
When the group reached the loo, Filius was surprised to see the Grey Lady hovering among a cluster of other ghosts, looking disdainfully at Moaning Myrtle. His house ghost had many good points, but she’d never seemed the type to risk herself. He raised an eyebrow at her. She sniffed, “If it’s true that this child can open the fabled Chamber of Secrets, there should be reliable witnesses to such an historic event.”
Aurora looked her over and murmured, “I’m shocked, then, that the other two house ghosts are absent on such an occasion.”
A ghost only marginally familiar to Filius-an elderly woman with a shrewd, plump face and several chins-cackled and said, “Oh, the Fat Friar and the Baron seem to think that their duty to guard the current students of their houses overrides the historical importance of the occasion. The Ravenclaw ghost, of course, thinks the best thing one can do in any such situation is to study the danger.”
It was odd to see a silver blush rise in the Grey Lady’s cheeks. Aurora chuckled easily and walked over to exchange a few quiet words with the old-lady ghost. She turned back to Filius after a few minute’s conversation. “Mistress Flint, here, and Miss Winter offer to accompany you.” Miss Winter was a thin, prim young ghost dressed in early Georgian robes who reminded Filius strongly and inexplicably of the Weasley boy who’d been made prefect this year.
Charity arrived a minute later, and turned to Myrtle’s glum ghost, now sulking in one of the stalls. “Miss Jennings? Has anyone yet explained why we have invaded your privacy like this?”
She pulled the ghost aside for a few minutes, then called out, “Professors? Mr. Potter? I think you should listen to this-it’s certainly confirmation of our suspicions.”
*
Twenty-three minutes after he’d left the staff room, Severus strode into Moaning Myrtle’s loo with his nose buried in a book bound in slightly crumbling brown-red leather. He was breathing a little heavily, almost as though he’d been running until the moment before. Filius ducked his head to hide a grin. The young man so hated to be caught doing anything he felt beneath his dignity, and so Filius carefully never caught him.
“What is that book?” rumbled Silvanus.
Severus looked up. “Something you’d rather not know about, Silvanus… an old compendium of, ah, useful spells for those who would insist on hunting various Dark creatures rather than making pets of them. May I try something on you?”
Kettleburn considered him narrowly and nodded; the young wizard frowned at the book and gestured with his wand, muttering. A thick pair of goggles suddenly adorned Silvanus’s face. Silvanus reached up and touched them. “Goggles-against a basilisk, Severus? Are you thinking of young Creevey?”
“No, Silvanus, Creevey’s protection of lenses and filters was purely accidental. This, in contrast, is my adaptation of an old basilisk-sensitive blindfolding spell. The original spell created a blindfold which supposedly slid over the eyes in the presence of a basilisk. These goggles should function similarly; they should turn wholly opaque if a basilisk should be near you, and clear when it is absent. ‘Near’ in this case means fifty-one yards in open air. Unfortunately we cannot test it in the basilisk’s absence. But I wish to cast this spell upon all here present, in the hope that it might work.”
No one dissented; in a few moments all of the living in the staffroom sported ugly goggles. Snape’s mouth pinched in dissatisfaction. “I should first have made sure Minerva knew of this protection. I believe it’s not generally known.” He looked at the witches and said, “Professor Burbage. Would you bring this book to the staffroom, to Floo to Minerva and the Ministry, and then return to back up Aurora? I think-I hope-that you can conclude the errand quickly enough that no harm will be effected by your absence.”
Charity answered, “Rolanda’s a few rooms down, Severus, in the nearest room with Floo access, to give us communication with the Headmistress. I’ll take it to her instead.” She vanished out the door.
Filius gestured towards the sink. “Miss Jennings indicated that the eyes of the monster, which was all she saw before her unfortunate demise, came from here. Upon examination we discovered a snake engraved on the tap. Neither physical nor magical means have sufficed to move that tap; I surmise that Parseltongue may indeed be required.”
Everyone turned to the child; Harry bit his lower lip, looking even younger than his years, and shouted, “Open up!”
Severus’s raised brow was expressive even behind his goggles. The boy flushed and tried again. “Um, open up!”
Mistress Flint allowed herself a chuckle.
Potter looked up at her in frustration. “I-well, I’ve only ever talked in Parseltongue when I’m talking to a snake, see! I never even knew that I was doing it.”
Severus snorted. “That’s easily enough addressed. Serpensortia.” A black snake flew out of Severus’s wand and hissed on the floor in front of Potter; the boy hissed back, then looked at the tap and hissed again. The tap glowed with a white light and started to spin; Severus yanked the child back and tucked him behind Aurora and Mistress Flint. A flick of his wand vanished the black snake again. The sink sank, exposing the opening of a large pipe. The adults waited in tense silence, but there was no sound or motion from the pipe.
Charity slid through the door, her eyes widening when she saw the dark opening. She drew her wand and came over next to Aurora.
When Snape’s paranoia was finally satisfied that nothing was poised to erupt from the black opening, he looked over at the child. “Mr. Potter, it is time for you to redeem your promise to me. You promised to obey me in anything: my orders are, that you stay here and obey Professors Sinistra and Burbage in my stead.”
Harry yelped, “But you promised to take me with! You said you’d take me along if I obeyed you! You lied to me! You-I don’t have to keep my promise to you if you don’t keep yours to me.”
Severus bared his teeth below the goggles.
“Had you sorted to my house, Mr. Potter, you’d have learned by now to pay heed to words spoken. What I said was not that I would take an idiot child into the Chamber, but that I would accept your assistance if you gave your word to obey me. I did accept your assistance: you’ve opened the entrance to the Chamber, which saves us much time in breaking through its protections. You promised in return to obey my every order. So what is your word worth, Mr. Potter?”
He straightened and looked at the boy, repeating, “I didn’t lie, Potter. Did you? Choose now if your word is good.” He held his wand loosely, clearly ready to immobilize the child.
The boy stared at Severus, green eyes wide behind the goggles. Then his face worked, and he turned to the wall.
Snape turned away, dismissing him. “Mistress Flint? Would you be willing to go first to reconnoiter? I feel somehow that if this so-convenient tube spits us out directly into the monster’s maw, entrusting ourselves to it will do little to aid Miss Weasley or the school.”
The witch’s ghost cackled. “Be like old times, it will. You come along after, Mistress Winter, more slowly, to bring word back if I’m petrified like Nick the moment I reach the bottom.” She shot out of sight; the younger ghost pinched her lips together disapprovingly and followed.
Filius looked at Aurora. Flint was a Slytherin ghost, wasn’t she? “Old times?”
“She used to be a spy for-King James the First, wasn’t it, Severus?” Sinistra murmured.
“Queen Bess, I thought,” Snape muttered absently, his eyes fixed on the dark hole. “Anyhow, one of those Muggle monarchs shortly before Seclusion.”
Charity stepped forward to hand Severus a loosely-wrapped parcel. “The headmistress said that you might need this.”
Severus ran a thumb over the parcel, nodded, and dropped it in his pocket. Without lifting his eyes from the hole he murmured, “Possibly.”
*
“Bad Mouth,” from Snake Poems, by Margaret Atwood
Each one is a hunter’s hunter,
nothing more than an endless gullet
pulling itself on over the still-alive prey
like a sock gone ravenous, like an evil glove
like sheer greed, lithe and devious.
*
“Just the man. The very man,” Severus breathed. Had that dulcet hatred been directed at him, Filius would have been grabbing his wand to craft an emergency Portkey. But Gilderoy was as great a fool as a braggart; he beamed at Snape’s greeting. Severus smiled back, and Gilderoy looked suddenly uncertain. The Potions master’s smile widened. “A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.”
The gilded popinjay went white.
Filius opened his hand to Pomona, courteously allowing her the second shot. She’d been waiting even longer than he, poor overly-polite Pomona. She chirped, “That’s right, Gilderoy. Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”
Gilderoy stuttered unintelligibly. Filius kept his own voice light as he took his turn. “Yes, didn’t you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?”
Regulating his voice had been well worth the effort, Filius decided. Contrast was all, in art. As he’d anticipated, Severus’s voice was heavy with sarcasm as the potions master rejoined the fray, reminding the blowhard that he’d claimed from the first that he “should have been given a free rein.”
Minerva took up Severus’s hint for the coup de grâce, crisply offering the coward, “A free rein at last!”
Minerva’s nostrils flared in disgust as Gilderoy slunk out of the room. Severus and Filius traded thin-lipped grins of momentary satisfaction.
Only momentary. Gilderoy, however annoying, had never been the real problem.
“Right, that’s got him out from under our feet-” began Minerva.
She was interrupted by the wardrobe bursting open, spilling a dark-haired child all over the floor. Harry Potter looked up at the acting headmistress and wailed, “You can’t mean to leave rescuing Ginny to him?!”
After a frozen moment, Minerva exclaimed, “Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this?”
“We came in here to wait for you, to tell you-” Her eyebrows rose at the “we,” and she drew her wand, gesturing at the wardrobe. The other door flew wide, disclosing the youngest Weasley boy slumped amidst the staff cloaks. Poppy clucked and rushed forward; in a moment she had levitated the boy out, in another she had revived him. “Fainted at the news, I expect,” she told the others. “Nothing really amiss. No, don’t try to stand yet, Mr. Weasley.” Filius walked an armchair over, and she placed the boy firmly in it. Harry Potter scrambled to his feet beside him.
Minerva regarded them both grimly. “Now. From the beginning, Mr. Potter.”
He took a breath. “When we visited Hermione-like you said we could, Professor-we found this in her hand….”
Irma hissed at the desecration of one of her books, but Minerva smoothed out the page and examined it. Her eyebrows climbed again. Harry said eagerly, “That’s the answer, see! Hermione figured it out! The monster is a basilisk, and it’s been moving through the pipes, and the entrance to the chamber is in Moaning Myrtle’s loo, where she was killed by it fifty years ago!”
“Mr. Potter,” rumbled Kettleburn, “you’re mistaken. A basilisk has no power to petrify; it simply kills, by its gaze or by its bite.”
“But that’s why Hermione had that mirror, see,” the child argued. “No one has died because no one actually looked it in the eye! Colin saw it through his camera, and Justin looked at it through Nearly Headless Nick, that’s why Nick got it too, and Hermione and that prefect saw it in the mirror. Even Mrs. Norris-she must have seen its reflection in the water on the floor that night! Every case works-we worked it out!”
Filius turned the problem over in his mind. No, he couldn’t recall any tales of anyone encountering a reflected basilisk stare. Of course, the last European to have created one was in 1248, if Filius recalled correctly. Mirrors were then rare and expensive, and lenses were unknown except in the regions under the Sultanate’s influence. So if the power of a basilisk’s gaze could be weakened by mirrors or lenses, who in Europe would have known it? There was, moreover, the Gorgon legend in support.
It wasn’t impossible.
But was there any actual evidence for the monster being a basilisk? Surely it was more likely that some rare magical beast or being with the power of petrification had escaped detection than that a known creature had entirely unknown powers….
The boy added, “I’ve been-I’ve been hearing it, see. In the walls. A voice that Ron and Hermione couldn’t hear-Hermione figured out, she must have, that it was speaking in Parseltongue, that’s why I was the only one who could hear it-” He looked sick. “It kept saying stuff like it smelled blood….”
Minerva straightened abruptly. “Mr. Potter! You heard a voice in the walls and did not TELL us? When did this start?”
Harry turned scarlet. “Um-the second time was Halloween. That’s what I-we-were doing in that corridor when we found Mrs. Norris. I was trying to find where the voice was coming from.” At Minerva’s glare, he dropped his gaze and said defensively, “It said it wanted to kill!”
“So, naturally, you rushed in to provide the unknown monster with a better victim than a cat,” Severus drawled. Filius’s mouth twitched.
Silvanus broke in, “Hagrid’s roosters were killed at the beginning of the year; that does provide some support for the boy’s tale. Did anyone notice the castle’s spiders fleeing last fall?”
The Weasley boy nodded eagerly. “We saw that! Spiders running away. And the Acromantulas in the forest are afraid of it-” Minerva’s change of expression made him stop abruptly.
Minerva demanded, “And you would know this, because, Mr. Weasley?”
Both boys looked at their feet. Minerva stalked over and put one hand on the arm of Weasley’s chair, looming over the two children. “You entered the Forbidden Forest and spoke with the Acromantulae? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? In Merlin’s name, how did you ever get away?”
“The car rescued us,” Weasley muttered, still looking at the floor. “M’dad’s car, that we had crashed there. It had gone wild, but it rescued us.”
“Fifty points from Gryffindor for extreme lack of sense!”
Potter looked up at that. “But Hagrid-sort of told us to! When he was being taken away, he told us to follow the spiders! We were just doing what he said!”
“Sixty points! Each! I expect my students to exercise better judgment than Hagrid.” Potter’s eyes widened, and he subsided. Minerva added, “And fifty points each to Gryffindor, for having the sense to come to me now, however belatedly.” The boys’ faces brightened momentarily at the last statement, then fell again as they did the math. Minerva straightened and looked over at Kettleburn. “Silvanus?”
“Roosters killed-spiders fleeing-“ Kettleburn ticked off points on his thick fingers. “A Parselmouth hearing voices in the wall. If we accept that a reflected gaze might petrify instead of kill, it does fit.”
“A basilisk,” Minerva whispered, her face whitening. She turned back to the boys. “What was it that you said about the entrance to the Chamber, Mr. Potter?”
The boy took a deep breath. “If it’s moving through the plumbing, then I think it comes out in Moaning Myrtle’s loo. Where she was killed. And there was water on the floor outside there where Mrs. Norris was attacked.”
Severus folded his arms and looked down his long nose at the boys. “Mr. Potter. Can you possibly imagine that we overlooked that possibility Hallowe’en night? The headmaster and I examined every room on the corridor where Mrs. Norris was attacked, on the adjoining corridors, and on the floors immediately above and below. We checked that bathroom, and there was no trace of dark magic anywhere. Nor had Miss Jennings-Myrtle Jennings, whom you miscall Moaning Myrtle-nor any other of the ghosts normally haunting that part of the building, seen or heard anything amiss.”
“But-they were all at the Deathday party, at least for a while, weren’t they? And I only heard it because I speak Parseltongue,” Harry argued. “If it had already gone into the plumbing when Moaning Myrtle got back to her loo, there would have been nothing to see, would there?”
The Potions master frowned in consideration. Filius thought a moment and pointed out, “If the Basilisk’s lair were far away through the pipes, the only magic left to be detected would be whatever was needed to open the pipes. Which need not have been dark at all, and which might be quite minor, really.”
Severus considered that, then grunted and turned away. From Severus in this mood, that ranked as a ringing endorsement of their reasoning.
Minerva took it as such; she said to the other staff, “Provisionally, then, we’ll assume we’re dealing with a basilisk, that it lairs in the so-called Chamber of Secrets, and that the Chamber is connected to the rest of the castle through the plumbing. Obviously, the only way to recover Miss Weasley is to go after her. So we need to determine how to open the entrance, and we’ll need a team prepared to deal with a basilisk on its home territory.”
Potter said, “We’re the ones who figured it out, and Ginny is his sister. So you have to take us with you, Professor McGonagall!”
The Weasley boy jumped off his chair and stood beside Potter, nodding vigorously.
Minerva looked a very long way down at the little boys and said softly, “Mr. Potter. Miss Granger was the one who figured it out, not ‘we’. She did so in part because she had access to information denied her teachers; to wit, that a Parselmouth had been hearing the monster speaking within the walls.
“Had you seen fit to divulge this information to the headmaster or to your head of house, we might have solved the puzzle and caught the basilisk long since. So your decision to withhold relevant information from adults is directly responsible for the continued attacks. You are in no position to make demands of me, Mr. Potter.”
The boy went white. “I thought-I just thought-Ron said that hearing voices no one else could isn’t a good sign even in the Wizarding world-and I, I didn’t realize it was a clue, I thought it was-was maybe something wrong with me….”
Severus sneered, “And you thought that the information that you might be mentally instable would be of no conceivable interest to your teachers, Potter?” Minerva gave Severus a sharp look, and he subsided.
The boy shot Snape a look of loathing and stammered, “Actually what I thought was-the Sorting Hat had said, had said last year, that I’d do well in Slytherin. What I thought, what I was afraid of, was that I had slimy Slytherin tendencies, and that they were coming out without my being able to stop them! I didn’t want anyone to know!”
Filius glanced at Severus to see how he took the slur upon his house-and that rather interesting information. Severus did nothing but fold his arms and narrow his eyes at the boy. As Potter was staring at his own feet again, the boy didn’t benefit from Snape’s display.
The Weasley boy’s reaction, however, made up for Severus’s moderation: he gasped and backed away from Potter. Potter’s gaze swung up; he flinched and clapped his hands over his mouth. Then he reached out awkwardly to his friend, stammering, “But-but, Ron, the hat just, like. just suggested that, just for a minute, but then it put me in Gryffindor after all! So I am a true Gryffindor, really I am!”
Weasley took another step back and said, “It didn’t-it didn’t have to think about me, not even for a minute. Or any of my family. It knew right away where we belonged. You, and Hermione, and Neville-it didn’t really want you for our house, did it? Did it? Really?” He backed a little further. “You ARE a Parselmouth. How do I know you’re NOT the one who’s really doing it? Maybe you cheated the hat to get in with us, just so you could attack us later! Almost all the victims are Gryffindors, after all.”
Filius tried to interject a note of sanity. “Mr. Potter cannot be both here and in the Chamber, Mr. Weasley.”
Snape added, “And you yourself told us, Mr. Weasley…. On the occasion of the first attack, you and Miss Granger both testified that you were with Potter continually from Sir Nicholas’s Deathday party until you all discovered Mrs. Norris’s body-am I to understand now that you were then lying on Potter’s behalf, to provide him with an alibi?”
“No,” the Weasley boy muttered.
Severus lifted an eyebrow at Filius. “You may at least be assured, Filius, that neither boy was ever considered for your house. I’m sure that the reflection consoles you.”
Potter swelled a little at Severus’s provocation and opened his mouth to answer. Then he caught Minerva’s stare and shut it again. He looked over at his friend and sagged, then turned back to Minerva, “But if you do think it’s my fault, partly, that Ron’s sister is down there-then you have to let me help fix it, Professor McGonagall.”
The adults looked away from the drooping boy. Minerva said, more gently than before, “Your AND Ron’s fault, before, was hiding information from adults. The help we needed from you was what you have just given us, coming forward to tell us what you know. Mr. Weasley, I am horrified that you could suspect your friend, even for a minute, just because he told you the Sorting Hat considered putting him in another house. And Mr. Potter, I am gravely disappointed in both of you, that you both seem to imagine being sorted to Slytherin to be tantamount to being evil. Being proud of being a Gryffindor is one thing; I expect that of my house. Thinking it bad to be a Slytherin is quite another matter. Slytherins are your rivals, not your enemies, and not your inferiors. Ten more points from each of you for speaking so disrespectfully of another house. And you will both apologize to Professor Snape for casting such aspersions.”
Severus snorted, watching the boys’ body language, and Filius had to agree: if ever a lecture was a waste of breath, that one was. At least the Weasley boy had moved a little closer to Potter and traded a glance with him, before they each muttered an ungracious, “Sorry, Professor Snape.”
But while Minerva had been admonishing her charges, Filius had been mulling over the Potter boy’s talents and coming to some unwelcome conclusions. He said, “It might well be the case, Professor McGonagall, that Parseltongue is required to open that entrance. Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth, after all. Forcing an entry without that advantage might take days, depending on the defenses layered on it besides the secrecy that has guarded it thus far. The headmaster and Severus didn’t even spot it before.”
Minerva met Filius’s eyes and blinked. She exhaled and turned to the Potter boy. “Mr. Potter. I have no doubts that you belong in my house-for my sins, no doubt. I might be willing to let you come with me to try to open the entrance, but only under-”
“Headmistress,” Severus interrupted, laying a very slight stress on the title. She permitted the interruption and turned to him, but her face was set. Snape continued, “We face multiple challenges. A child, it is alleged, has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. We presume that another student is responsible for this. If so, some student has both the skill and the malice required to open the chamber and to control a Basilisk, without ever having roused any teacher’s suspicion. If not, some outsider has penetrated Hogwarts’ best protections to perpetrate this… incident. We staff, therefore, must work simultaneously to recover the victim, to apprehend the miscreant, to protect the other students, and to neutralize the threat posed by the monster.
“One person only, however, in the headmaster’s absence, can work with the Ministry to change the Floo to allow physical access to the castle, either to allow Aurors entry or to evacuate the children. And one only can command the other staff.”
A muscle jumped in the acting Headmistress’s jaw as she reluctantly considered Snape’s argument. She lifted her chin and said, “Then I authorize a team consisting of yourself and Silvanus, Severus, to investigate the so-called Chamber of Secrets and to use all necessary means against whatever you may find within.” She caught Kettleburn’s eyes; he nodded at once.
Snape nodded also. “If I might recommend, Headmistress-three groups. One to penetrate the supposed Chamber, to attempt to recover…,” his eye slid to the youngest Mr. Weasley, still standing white-faced a little away from his friend, “Miss Weasley. Another team as backup in the washroom believed to be the basilisk’s egress, should the basilisk escape the first. And a third-not a team, exactly, but we should have a staff member dispatched to each of the common rooms, to guard the children while you arrange evacuation, since it is only an unsupported supposition that the basilisk can enter the castle through only that one exit in the plumbing.”
Minerva nodded impatiently and looked over the rest of her staff. “Charity and Aurora then, as the backup team.” They nodded in tandem, a little pale. Filius felt a stab of disappointment. Minerva glanced at him. “One house head is enough-too much!-to risk so directly, Filius.”
Severus interrupted a second time. “A moment, Headmistress. I respect your reasoning, but I request Filius for the team in the Chamber.”
Minerva looked at him. He explained, “Along with the basilisk, we may be facing someone who claims to control it. Even should that person have the advantage of being another Parselmouth, controlling such a creature argues for a rather formidable degree of power.”
Severus waited for the narrowing of Minerva’s eyes and spoke again. “While Silvanus and I deal with the monster, I should like a duelist available to deal with its controller.”
Minerva visibly fought down her desire to join the assault team. She said tersely, “You may have Filius, Severus. I’ll find another guard for Ravenclaw. Go now!”
“There is a spell I which I remember reading, developed, they say, by the last witch in Europe to slay a basilisk…. Filius, Silvanus, meet me in twenty minutes in the washroom in question.”
Severus whirled to leave, and Harry Potter flung himself in his path. “What about me? You might need me to open the Chamber, Professor Flitwick said so! Take me with!”
Severus snapped, “I will not take a child into this danger. You waste my time, Potter.”
The boy grabbed at the man’s arm; Severus hissed and recoiled at the liberty. The boy said, “But you might need me! Professor Flitwick said! The other one, the person doing this, probably speaks Parseltongue too. And-and if it’s partly my fault for not telling Professor Dumbledore what I was hearing when he asked-then I should help to fix it. You have to let me fix it! You have to!”
Severus hesitated at that, unexpectedly, and regarded the child more closely. Then he stalked back to Minerva and said something in her ear, inaudible to the others. After a moment she nodded grim assent and Severus turned back to the boy. “Potter. I will accept your assistance upon one condition only: that you promise to obey any order I might give, instantly, while we’re on this hunt. If I say to duck, if I say to run-no arguments, no hesitation, no Gryffindor displays of rashness. Do I have your word?”
Harry hesitated and then nodded. Severus turned to Filius. “Have him in the washroom in twenty minutes’ time, please.”
“What about me?” the Weasley boy blurted. “She’s my sister-I have more right than Harry-”
Severus strode out, not pausing even to deny him.
Filius fingered his wand, prepared to stop the boy forcibly if need be, but Weasley turned instead in appeal to Minerva, who said, “She’s also Percy’s sister, and the twins’, and the housemate of everyone in Gryffindor. It’s not a matter of rights, Ron. Harry’s Parseltongue talent may be required, that’s all; if any teacher had that ability, Mr. Potter would be going with you right now. I’ll make sure that you and all your family are informed of developments the instant that I learn them. Which will be easier if you’re together with your brothers.”
The boy opened his mouth to argue; Minerva cut in, “Anything you say now will just delay our acting to help your sister, Mr. Weasley, which I know you don’t wish.” She turned away from him, surveying the faculty. “Madam Pince, if you’ll guard Slytherin, Professor Babbling, Ravenclaw, and Professor Vector, Gryffindor…. Poppy, I’ll also ask the ministry to open floo connections from the house common rooms to the Hospital Ward; prepare for emergencies, including if any of the children should panic and stampede. If the guards would go at once to the various common rooms, and to verify who besides Miss Weasley might be missing…. Septima?”
The redheaded boy still looked mutinous; Vector sighed and said, “Mr. Weasley, I can stun and levitate you, or we can walk. Which is your preference?” She opened the door with a wave of her wand and a word, and then turned to her charge, wand still in hand.
With a last furious glare at Potter, Weasley trailed her out. Filius heard Septima saying conversationally, “Your brothers Bill and Percy both excel at Arithmancy. Do you think you’ll take my class next year?”
The door swung shut on a sullen mutter from the boy. Filius returned his attention to the acting headmistress.
Minerva said, “Cuthbert, will you tell the other ghosts what Miss Granger has discovered, that their intervention can apparently protect students from actual death from the basilisk’s gaze? Make sure they understand that we hope, but are not entirely sure, that we can subsequently revive the petrified ghosts as well as the students. I am asking for volunteers to guard each common room, and to join the two teams dealing directly with the basilisk. Will you coordinate this?”
Cuthbert nodded with more energy than he usually showed and drifted out through the wall. Minerva surveyed her remaining corporate staff. “The rest of you, stay here so I can reach you immediately if I need you.”
Charity said, “Wait a mo. No girl’s loo is going to have a floo connection-how can we communicate with you, headmistress?”
Minerva’s lips thinned. “Excellent point, Charity. Argus, which is the nearest room that does have a fireplace that is or could be connected?”
Argus screwed his rheumy eyes shut for a moment, then said, “Unused classroom three doors down the corridor.”
Minerva said, “In sight as well as earshot of the bathroom?”
Argus nodded; Minerva said, “Then, Rolanda, I’m afraid I’ll need to station you there. I’ll be in the headmaster’s office; I need to contact the Ministry and the governors. Charity, will you come with me first? There’s something of the headmaster’s Severus said he might need. Those of you I’ve assigned posts, to them, please.”
There was a general exodus from the staffroom.
Silvanus and Aurora considerately ambled so as not to outpace Filius’s short legs and the boy’s. Silvanus entertained them on their walk with apocryphal tales of basilisk-hatchings and slayings through the ages; he seemed to feel that a beast with one of the few near-incurable venoms on the planet and a lethal gaze should pose little threat to a trained wizard.
Of course, Silvanus had thought the same of the dragonet that bit off his left hand, so his judgment, to Filius’s mind, was nearly as suspect as Hagrid’s. And Filius noted that none of Kettleburn’s tales actually went into detail on the techniques used by the purported basilisk-slayers. The only good news was, it seemed that the basilisk had no specific protection against spells; it relied on its formidable offensive magic for its protection. But a creature one couldn’t look at-how could one see to aim?
Much would depend on the terrain, of course. And they would be attacking it on its home ground.
*
When the group reached the loo, Filius was surprised to see the Grey Lady hovering among a cluster of other ghosts, looking disdainfully at Moaning Myrtle. His house ghost had many good points, but she’d never seemed the type to risk herself. He raised an eyebrow at her. She sniffed, “If it’s true that this child can open the fabled Chamber of Secrets, there should be reliable witnesses to such an historic event.”
Aurora looked her over and murmured, “I’m shocked, then, that the other two house ghosts are absent on such an occasion.”
A ghost only marginally familiar to Filius-an elderly woman with a shrewd, plump face and several chins-cackled and said, “Oh, the Fat Friar and the Baron seem to think that their duty to guard the current students of their houses overrides the historical importance of the occasion. The Ravenclaw ghost, of course, thinks the best thing one can do in any such situation is to study the danger.”
It was odd to see a silver blush rise in the Grey Lady’s cheeks. Aurora chuckled easily and walked over to exchange a few quiet words with the old-lady ghost. She turned back to Filius after a few minute’s conversation. “Mistress Flint, here, and Miss Winter offer to accompany you.” Miss Winter was a thin, prim young ghost dressed in early Georgian robes who reminded Filius strongly and inexplicably of the Weasley boy who’d been made prefect this year.
Charity arrived a minute later, and turned to Myrtle’s glum ghost, now sulking in one of the stalls. “Miss Jennings? Has anyone yet explained why we have invaded your privacy like this?”
She pulled the ghost aside for a few minutes, then called out, “Professors? Mr. Potter? I think you should listen to this-it’s certainly confirmation of our suspicions.”
*
Twenty-three minutes after he’d left the staff room, Severus strode into Moaning Myrtle’s loo with his nose buried in a book bound in slightly crumbling brown-red leather. He was breathing a little heavily, almost as though he’d been running until the moment before. Filius ducked his head to hide a grin. The young man so hated to be caught doing anything he felt beneath his dignity, and so Filius carefully never caught him.
“What is that book?” rumbled Silvanus.
Severus looked up. “Something you’d rather not know about, Silvanus… an old compendium of, ah, useful spells for those who would insist on hunting various Dark creatures rather than making pets of them. May I try something on you?”
Kettleburn considered him narrowly and nodded; the young wizard frowned at the book and gestured with his wand, muttering. A thick pair of goggles suddenly adorned Silvanus’s face. Silvanus reached up and touched them. “Goggles-against a basilisk, Severus? Are you thinking of young Creevey?”
“No, Silvanus, Creevey’s protection of lenses and filters was purely accidental. This, in contrast, is my adaptation of an old basilisk-sensitive blindfolding spell. The original spell created a blindfold which supposedly slid over the eyes in the presence of a basilisk. These goggles should function similarly; they should turn wholly opaque if a basilisk should be near you, and clear when it is absent. ‘Near’ in this case means fifty-one yards in open air. Unfortunately we cannot test it in the basilisk’s absence. But I wish to cast this spell upon all here present, in the hope that it might work.”
No one dissented; in a few moments all of the living in the staffroom sported ugly goggles. Snape’s mouth pinched in dissatisfaction. “I should first have made sure Minerva knew of this protection. I believe it’s not generally known.” He looked at the witches and said, “Professor Burbage. Would you bring this book to the staffroom, to Floo to Minerva and the Ministry, and then return to back up Aurora? I think-I hope-that you can conclude the errand quickly enough that no harm will be effected by your absence.”
Charity answered, “Rolanda’s a few rooms down, Severus, in the nearest room with Floo access, to give us communication with the Headmistress. I’ll take it to her instead.” She vanished out the door.
Filius gestured towards the sink. “Miss Jennings indicated that the eyes of the monster, which was all she saw before her unfortunate demise, came from here. Upon examination we discovered a snake engraved on the tap. Neither physical nor magical means have sufficed to move that tap; I surmise that Parseltongue may indeed be required.”
Everyone turned to the child; Harry bit his lower lip, looking even younger than his years, and shouted, “Open up!”
Severus’s raised brow was expressive even behind his goggles. The boy flushed and tried again. “Um, open up!”
Mistress Flint allowed herself a chuckle.
Potter looked up at her in frustration. “I-well, I’ve only ever talked in Parseltongue when I’m talking to a snake, see! I never even knew that I was doing it.”
Severus snorted. “That’s easily enough addressed. Serpensortia.” A black snake flew out of Severus’s wand and hissed on the floor in front of Potter; the boy hissed back, then looked at the tap and hissed again. The tap glowed with a white light and started to spin; Severus yanked the child back and tucked him behind Aurora and Mistress Flint. A flick of his wand vanished the black snake again. The sink sank, exposing the opening of a large pipe. The adults waited in tense silence, but there was no sound or motion from the pipe.
Charity slid through the door, her eyes widening when she saw the dark opening. She drew her wand and came over next to Aurora.
When Snape’s paranoia was finally satisfied that nothing was poised to erupt from the black opening, he looked over at the child. “Mr. Potter, it is time for you to redeem your promise to me. You promised to obey me in anything: my orders are, that you stay here and obey Professors Sinistra and Burbage in my stead.”
Harry yelped, “But you promised to take me with! You said you’d take me along if I obeyed you! You lied to me! You-I don’t have to keep my promise to you if you don’t keep yours to me.”
Severus bared his teeth below the goggles.
“Had you sorted to my house, Mr. Potter, you’d have learned by now to pay heed to words spoken. What I said was not that I would take an idiot child into the Chamber, but that I would accept your assistance if you gave your word to obey me. I did accept your assistance: you’ve opened the entrance to the Chamber, which saves us much time in breaking through its protections. You promised in return to obey my every order. So what is your word worth, Mr. Potter?”
He straightened and looked at the boy, repeating, “I didn’t lie, Potter. Did you? Choose now if your word is good.” He held his wand loosely, clearly ready to immobilize the child.
The boy stared at Severus, green eyes wide behind the goggles. Then his face worked, and he turned to the wall.
Snape turned away, dismissing him. “Mistress Flint? Would you be willing to go first to reconnoiter? I feel somehow that if this so-convenient tube spits us out directly into the monster’s maw, entrusting ourselves to it will do little to aid Miss Weasley or the school.”
The witch’s ghost cackled. “Be like old times, it will. You come along after, Mistress Winter, more slowly, to bring word back if I’m petrified like Nick the moment I reach the bottom.” She shot out of sight; the younger ghost pinched her lips together disapprovingly and followed.
Filius looked at Aurora. Flint was a Slytherin ghost, wasn’t she? “Old times?”
“She used to be a spy for-King James the First, wasn’t it, Severus?” Sinistra murmured.
“Queen Bess, I thought,” Snape muttered absently, his eyes fixed on the dark hole. “Anyhow, one of those Muggle monarchs shortly before Seclusion.”
Charity stepped forward to hand Severus a loosely-wrapped parcel. “The headmistress said that you might need this.”
Severus ran a thumb over the parcel, nodded, and dropped it in his pocket. Without lifting his eyes from the hole he murmured, “Possibly.”