false practice
There could, in fact, go a lot wrong in just one lesson.
Now sitting next to Riddle, which was the only seat available when he arrived, he waited for Professor Merrythought to start the lesson.
She stood in front of the class beside her desk, balancing her wand between her fingers. Her plump and small form, making her appear unfit for the position. However as she began, Harry quickly noticed that that wasn't the case.
"We have started on non-verbal spell work last week," began Merrythought and walked up the rows of desks. "You have not been able to produce a single spell, not even a Lumos."
She stopped at the far end of the room. "I am hoping that we can change that today. BUT," She emphasized and stormed back to the front. "We will try a protection charm instead. You will work together in pairs and, while one student casts a jinx at the other, those may be cast verbally, the other has to use a non-verbal protection charm."
She watched the horror on many of the students' faces. "Can anyone tell me why I would use this method instead of the old one?"
Riddle raised his hand beside Harry. He had an idea why she might use it but he did not want to raise his own hand, unsure whether the answer would be wrong or correct.
Merrythought waved her hand at Riddle and so the boy explained, “It is vastly known that many spells are fuelled by emotions, accidental magic only so. Emotions as such make it easier to achieve a flow of magic.”
Riddle made a small gesture with his hand and continued, “Fear is one of the strongest emotions a human could feel. Having started as a fight or flight response to a threat, it helps wizards cast a protection charm.”
Everyone listened intently as Riddle was speaking; Harry could see why he wanted to become a Professor. He had the ability to capture one's attention and teach the subject without it being boring or annoying.
Perhaps it was his voice, smooth and steady; perhaps it were his gestures, keeping their attention and letting the topic be animated; but, perhaps it was just his general appearance.
It wasn't everyday Hogwarts had let a handsome teacher who was invested in the subject -thank you very much Lockheart- teach students. It was different but good. A teacher outwards, a monster inside.
Harry glowered at this and turned his head away; Riddle shooting him a sidewards glance while seeming smug. Merrythought gained their attention again, “Indeed, yes. As children your magic is far more responsive to emotions, that's why I have chosen this type of exercise for today.”
A Gryffindor raised their hand as Merrythought reached the front. She nodded at him, “Yes, Mr. Prewett.”
Harry turned towards the ashen haired boy, the name familiar. The boy's posture was straight as he spoke, “I was wondering whether we would truly fear the attack since we already know that it is coming and won't be hurt.”
Merrythought smiled at this. “Who said you wouldn't get hurt?”
A panic seemed to grip some students, though Harry remained calm; he knew that she wasn't allowed to let anyone get hurt and it seemed like a few other students knew that as well.
He got up, though a bit wary, his previous years had shown that some teachers did not abide by such rules, whether they were sent by the Ministry or the headmaster.
As the students slowly filed to the front of the classroom, Merrythought cast the tables and benches to the wall making space for the pairs to practice.
“Well, then,” Merrythought turned to them her hands stemmed to her hips and face squished to a satisfied smile. “Pair up, everyone!”
Harry tried to get to Prewett, was however held back by Riddle as he grabbed onto his arm and steered them to the far back of the room. He tried to wrench his arm away but Riddle’s grip didn't butch. “Let me go,” he warned Riddle.
Ornella hissed from his other sleeve, Harry was glad that Riddle didn't grab that arm or Ornella could have panicked or gotten hurt. Riddle replied firmly, “No.”
They stopped and Riddle turned around, finally letting Harry have his arm back. “I am the top of this class, I can teach you the best.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, “Did Professor Merrythought not mention, that no one had performed a non-verbal spell last lesson? Were you not present?”
Riddle’s brown twitched, “I can assure you that between the prior lesson and the current one, a lot of time has passed.”
“Shall I perform as the ‘attacker’ then? –to test you of course,” Harry could hardly retain his grin. All too eager to have a go at Riddle without him fighting back.
“Very well,” contemplated Riddle before taking a few steps, creating a short distance between them.
They bowed to each other, though Harry’s was merely a nod, and took their battle stance. Riddle’s being far too norm-fitting; back straight and slightly leaned forward, knees bent, weight pushed forward and slightly balancing on the heels of his feet.
Harry stood as he usually did when he fought. His body tense and feet pressed to the ground, wand gripped tightly.
Riddle shortly raised his eyebrows, indicating him to start. Harry rolled his eyes. He would do it his way. He wanted to surprise Riddle. Hit him with a jinx. Perhaps he would even use a non-verbal spell against him.
He could repay him. For everything that he had done. He could make him suffer. Could make him live his worst nightmare. Humiliate him in front of all these people.
That would be fitting, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. He has done so much wrong. Wrong to those near you. To those who don’t deserve it.
Yes. This was Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Lord Voldemort. Future 'dark lord'. Murderer of his parents. He deserved this he did it. 'No,' thought Harry. 'He was still young. He did not hurt anyone close to him.'
Not yet, chastised the voice. But he will. The memories have proven so.
Harry clenched his teeth. He will kill. He will hurt. It will be a cycle that can be stopped. Right here. Right now.
He caused and will cause all his pain. Why wait, when the perfect opportunity has just been served to him on a silver blade.
There were many things he could use. Many that weren't invented yet. Sectumsempra would be a great option. Who could help if nobody knew the spell.
So he raised his wand.
Hand steadily guided by his clouded mind.
He gripped the holder tight.
Ready to slash.
"Evans."
Harry blinked. His grip loosening slightly. What?
"You gonna cast a spell or not?"
The green eyed boy blinked a few more times before clearing his mind and taking a deep breath.
He had just been ready to kill Riddle –in the middle of class.
Clearing his throat he let out a shaky, "Yeah, sure."
Riddle narrowed his eyes but quickly cast his protection charm as a jinx came hurling his way. He looked shaken, angered maybe? "Evans, what-"
"Oh, that was great. Excellent," came the praising voice of Professor Merrythought who had snuck up on them. Harry turned to see her chubby face beaming. "You must be the new student, yes?"
Harry nodded. He could see Riddle trying to calm himself down, toying with his wand. "Yes, Professor, Harry Lillien Evans."
She praised the both of them, "An excellent execution on non-verbal casting, both of you. Riddle truly surprises me every time. Being able to do it in his second lesson." She gazed over at Riddle who smiled back but Harry knew him far too well to unsee the tightness of his muscles. "Thank you, Professor.", said Riddle.
"Yes, Yes," her focus drifting back to him. "I did not know what to expect of the new scholar but you did not fail to entertain me. I do hope you will keep this up, Mr. Evans."
"Of course," answered Harry honestly.
“Go ahead then,” Merrythought urged. “Continue. I want you to show the others how good your non-verbal spell work is at the end of class.”
Harry hummed along with Riddle before the professor approached another group. Just as he was facing Riddle the man was suddenly in front of him. Hands clenched tightly by his wand. His eyes blazed but the face remained stoic. “What was that?”
Cocking his head to the side, Harry asked, “What was what?”
“The spell- you cast it while I wasn’t ready. You could have hurt me, did you-”
Harry snorted, although he knew the situation wasn’t fun at all. He had thought about hurting him… This, however he did not show instead playing it off, “Calm down, Riddle. I was just doing what Professor Merrythought told us to do. Caught you off guard, so what?”
Harry’s eyes dropped to the small movement in Riddle’s jaw. “You have not caught me off guard.”
“Well, I don’t see what’s the problem then.” Harry shrugged and tried to distance himself from the other, was however stopped ―once again― by a hand reaching for his arm, this time the one on which Ornella was positioned. He quickly withdrew his hand and stated, “We should get back to practicing.”
Riddle stared down at him for a few more seconds, he could swear that those dark brown eyes bled into a slight red. He wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. He was Voldemort after all. A reflection. Now that Harry thought about it, because of creating Horcruxes he could have gained some of the features before the resurrection as well.
The eyes, red; bleeding, like his soul. What a sad man Tom Marvolo Riddle was. A man, which would turn into a monster. A thing. Non-human. Feared not respected. Disgusting, his voice sounded in is mind, almost like a hiss.
He stared at Riddle as the boy moved back. A mere boy and already so much destruction. He clenched his jaw and got ready. Riddle took his stance as well, waiting for him to cast. This time however, he reigned his emotions, slowing the spell. Riddle was able to deflect it like he had done so all his life. Only the second lesson they have practiced this and he was already far ahead of the others.
They had Harry throw a few more jinxes at Riddle, the tension between them never wavering. Riddle was observing him, every twitch of a muscle, the slight signature of magic whenever he cast a spell; as if he was being tested and Riddle was the judge.
Once they had decided it was time for Riddle to cast a spell on Harry, he was already taut, every fibre his body awaiting an attack. He watched Riddle as close as he was being watched. Two predators ready to strike, though only one is allowed to; only one has the freedom to do so.
And so he chose.
It was fast. Faster than most spells casted by his classmates but not as fast as the spells others, death eaters, Voldemort, have attacked him with. It was the adrenaline. The fight or flight instinct. It was a habit. A habit of one grown up in war; in a fight between two parties, one who never wished to participate. Always ready. Always vigilant.
He was.
He was ready when the spell came, his shield up, the spell rebounding. It was instinct. The spell heading back towards his opponent and he was already throwing another one. Riddle quickly casted a protection charm as well. It held, but only absorbed the spells, they did not rebound. However as he was watching him, he noticed Riddle seething. The mask beginning to crumble.
He could hear his thoughts as if they were his own, fuelled by emotions, anger mostly. How dare he. How DARE he. Attacking me. ME.
He only barely registered a spell being sent his way and himself performing a protego, the thoughts spiralling in his head, making him dizzy and eliciting rage as well.
Rage. He has so much rage. Where did it come from? Himself? Riddle? Was it always there? No, ―yes― it was too great.
His body was led by emotions just like Riddle’s. They were throwing spells after spells, not noticing the silence that has stretched amongst the other peers. Professor Merrythought had tried to break them up but wasn’t successful. They were not responding. Not even to their own injuries. Spell after spell grazed their bodies. Some being able to slice their skin open but only minimal. They bled but not enough to overcome the rage that filled them.
How DARE he. Why HIM. Why ME. He attacked me. ATTACKED me. ME. HURT me. ME.
Similar thoughts, hatred, actions. Destruction.
Then it ended. A burning sensation spread throughout his body and Harry found himself on the ground. His chest stinging and burning. Arms and torso aching. Riddle had stopped. He stopped when he realized what he had done, he tried to approach the hunched over figure but was halted by a threatening hiss.
A black snake slithered out off the injured one's sleeve and hissed at the students, Tom specifically, “Hurt him. Hurt him. My Harry. He’s hurt because of you. You hurt him. You will not get close to him. Stay away. Away. Away.”
Riddle was shocked. He had never lost his control like that, not in front of a teacher and why? Because of some practice? Some taunting? He had had worse. So why now? Why now? Why?
Ornella circled Harry, threatening every student that came too close. A ragged breath escaped Harry and Riddle saw Ornella quickly approaching him, hissing soothing words, “It’s alright, my Harry. I am here. Poor, Harry. Poor, hatchling. I will take care of you.”
She flicked her tongue against a barely visible cheek, obscured by the messy black hair. He took a step forward trying to take in the damage he has caused; he was a prefect it was his task to help them. He glanced at professor Merrythought and noticed her pointing her wand at Ornella.
Focusing back on the black snake he did what he has always done best; pretend. “Ornella?”
The black head perked up, though it was with a threatening stance. “I want to help him, let me get him to someone.”
Ornella bared her fangs as Riddle came too close, “You have hurt him. You hurt my hatchling; my Harry.”
He stopped and tried, “I did not wish for this to happen. I have lost control, I admit that but I can fix it now.”
He let his gaze fall up on the slightly shaking form of Evans; he had expected more. More resistant, ability, intelligence; just more.
Ornella raised her body up high when she had positioned herself between him and Harry, “No. I can smell your lies. I can smell that you do not care. My hatchling will not be touched by you.”
He wanted to speak but was interrupted by a soft groan from Evans. The snake quickly aided to his side but still watched him with those beady, black eyes. “I am here, my hatchling, my Harry. I will protect you.”
A huffed laugh escaped the boy as he reached a shaking hand out to stroke over her scales, his voice, although pained, was steady, “It’s all right, ‘Nella.”
Tom watched in fascination as Evans began to sit up, slowly but he sat up. The uniform on his shoulder was burned to shreds, the skin peeling itself, at some places opened. He saw as Harry held out the hand of his uninjured arm to Ornella, letting her slither up his forearm. Unlike all the other times, she chose to stay outside of his sleeve and observe everyone, hissing slightly.
The boy turned to Professor Merrythought and said, “I’m sorry for causing such an inconvenience, professor. May I go to the hospital wing?”
May he? May he? This boy was far more injured than any of his knights ever were, they were the ones he thought to be the strongest. But compared to the boy sitting in front of him, they seemed useless, like they would fuss over everything.
May he? Riddle wanted to laugh, not out of joy rather the absurdity of this situation.
Professor Merrythought seemed taken aback as well but she quickly regained herself, “Yes, yes. Mr. Malfoy take him to the hospital wing.”
Malfoy looked reluctant and at best disgusted. He slowly approached the now standing form of Evans ―when had he stood up?― his gaze always fell on the tense black snake. Harry regarded Malfoy as he was about to reach an arm under his armpit to steady him, “I can walk just fine, you know? I have had worse.”
Worse? Riddle’s brows furrowed at that, even if the others seemed to have mistaken it as a joke, he was pretty sure that Evans had just spoken the truth. But what could have happened in a muggleborn's life to be worse than that? Was he involved in some of the areas which were bombed?
Riddle supressed a shudder at that. Bombs. Those muggle invention were made to bring destruction and death. Death was something he had always avoided; something he will always avoid. His Horcruxes save him from death, prevent him from dying.
Evans had no such reassurance. He would die. A sad, lonely death. No one would mourn him. He would be forgotten. Forgotten. All his power was to be forgotten. That strenght; that magic forgotten. What a waste.
He did not even notice that Evans and Malfoy had left. Only accepted Merrythought’s advice when she told him to sit the lesson out. He would have to talk to her afterwards but at that moment he did not care. All he could think about was the waste of potential. Of power. Such beautiful magic to be forgotten because of death. Because of Muggles.
Harry let himself be guided by Malfoy. He had after all, been assigned to him. Ironic how all Malfoys he knew had an ego big enough to let the entire human race get enough and still have some left.
The blond had started lecturing him on etiquettes, manners and the stupidity of his actions. He had not even mentioned Riddle once. He did not even care that he was lecturing an injured still in pain, person.
Harry was glad that once they arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey ―Harry was surprised to find Poppy Pomfrey’s mother, working as a matron as well―, that she sent Malfoy back to class whilst she positioned him on a bed in the deserted hospital wing.
Ornella had settled down next to him once Madam Pomfrey made it clear that she was either to be obedient while she treated Harry or that she would ask the headmaster to take her back to a shop.
Ornella however understood nothing she was saying, however smelled the truth of her intentions and let her treat Harry. She would, however begin to stir whenever Harry hissed as the matron began to put a few drops of different potions on his wound.
The matron would constantly mutter, “You young folk, truly never know when to stop. This burn in a defence class; ridiculous, truly ridiculous.”
Harry's chest couldn't help but tighten as the resemblance became even clearer. Not only was her appearance very similar to her daughter, her behaviour seemed to be the same as well.
When she was done Madam Pomfrey told him firmly, "You will stay put until dinner today; you may have been healed but your body needs energy to cope with the sudden process."
Harry nodded, already having been in this position quite a few times. "Yes, sleep is the best way to achieve that," She stated as she began to draw the curtains around his bed. "If you need anything just call on me."
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," bid Harry a goodbye.
Ornella was now starting uncoil from her tight position. He glanced down at her and stroked a finger over the beautiful scales. "Thank you," said Harry.
She bumped her nose against his finger and hissed, "Anything for you, my Harry."
A smile spread across his features as he settled onto his back, Ornella coiled next to his body after he had performed a heating charm, thankfully his non-dominant arm was injured, leaving room for him to perform spells.
He led his eyes fall shut, limbs heavy from exhaustion. His hand stayed on Ornella’s scales as he fell asleep. But he had not drank a dreamless sleep potion. He had not thought about the nightmares that may come. The fact that his brain needed to process things.
Harry sat at the astronomy tower, the cloak wrapped around him. He saw Dumbledore getting killed and falling of the tower; his heart racing, wanting to scream. Snape turned to him. But instead a young, handsome face stared back at him.
Eyes lit with a dangerous glint. His smile sharp. Riddle approached him, his nose flattening, skin tightening and cheekbones poking out.
The brown eye colour bled into a red which soon expanded over the white of his eyes.
His teeth sharpened tongue flickered out, showing a forked, long muscle. Red. Like blood.
Harry felt the blood drain his face. He tried to move, squirm, flee. But his body wouldn't shift. He could not move. He could not flee. He could not fight.
The monster approached him. Each second stretched. His pulse was far too high.
The snake-man stood before him, imposing with his height. "Harry Potter," echoed the high voice in his mind.
Voice? Hiss? He did not know. It sounded the same. It was the same. Did it matter? No.
There was a glint in the red eyes. Sharp teeth displayed in a cruel smile, "Travelled through time."
A long fingernail traced down his artery, "What a feat."
The nail pierced his skin, "50 years." Harry wanted to hurt. Wanted to harm. Wanted to be free. The hand wrapped around his throat in a caging manner. "Only Harry Potter."
The hand tightened. "Only the golden boy."
"The saviour." Harry squeezed his eyes shut.
"The boy-who-lived." He tried to turn his eyes but the grip around his throat tightened more.
"The one who people trust in." ... no
"The one who needs to help them." ...
no
"The one who helps people who don't deserve it."
No
"The one who stopped Voldemort."
NO
"The one who will stop Voldemort and save everyone."
NO.
He wanted to scream. Scream that that wasn't the case. That he wasn't the one who needed to save the. He wanted to. It was his will. It was-
too much.
It was too much.
Now he did scream.
Arms wrapped around his hands, which were finally free, flailed around. He struggled for breath as a voice hissed, “My Harry, you’re safe. I am here. Hear me. Listen to me. Feel me. I am here, my Harry.”
His breathing still ragged and forehead sweaty, he looked down to see Ornella coiled in his lap. He reached out a shaking hand and received a relieved, “Yes, my Harry. You are safe. I am here.”
He looked around, the hospital wing and as he did so, spotted Madam Pomfrey. She had her arms crossed in front of her and looked at him with a stern but worried expression. “Well, young man,” began she. “You sure gave me a scare.”
He averted his eyes, fixating them on his stroking fingers and Ornella’s black scales. He mumbled, “I am sorry.”
“No need to be sorry, Mr. Evans,” huffed she and grabbed a potion from his nightstand. “We all have nightmares. Although you could have told me, I could have prescribe you a portion of dreamless sleep.”
He glanced up at her as he felt her probing fingers on his slightly healed skin. “I understand,” admitted Harry and watched her apply a salve. “But I have had my shared past with that potion already.”
“I see,” said the matron, examining her work. “If you however need help of any sorts just let me know.”
He nodded but didn’t voice it out loud. Ornella’s scales growing warm under the friction and heating charm. “What time is it?”
“7 pm which means that you’re still in time to get yourself dinner,” informed Madam Pomfrey. “Your healing salve should help soothe the still irate skin but I advise you not to exercise for today.”
“Yes,” said Harry and grabbed his T-shirt that hung on the railing at the end of his bed. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“No problem,” answered the matron and made to leave.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know that it was her job, he just felt more obligated to point out his gratefulness since he could no longer do so to his Madam Pomfrey.
He got dressed and tried to make Ornella settle herself on his sleeve again, was however rejected when the snake said that she could not protect him there. After a lot of fussing, Harry gave in and let her settle against his neck and collarbone. She had not grown much since her arrival, which was yesterday mind you, but she could still wrap herself twice around him. Now he asked himself how she always fit inside his sleeve.
They headed off to dinner, coming across a few students who, at the sight of him, began to whisper amongst themselves. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, he was not known in this time and he did not want to be. Still it raised attention of many students when he entered the Great Hall.
Sighing he made his way over to the green themed table. Just as he was about the middle along the length, he spotted the famous black hair.
He turned his head and saw a replica of a younger… Sirius? Harry stopped and his mind reeled for a second. Sirius? No, it couldn’t be. Who was similar to Sirius again? Orion? That was it. Orion Black. Him. He truly looked like Sirius. The curly hair was a bit shorter, reaching just past his ears but the face ―the face.
He was apparently staring, so the group around Orion noticed too. A dark brown haired boy whispered something in Orion’s ear making him turn towards Harry. There wasn’t a great distance between them, the wall behind Harry and the table before him which Orion sat on was separated by two and a half meters. “Orion Black?” Harry asked.
The young boy shortly glanced at the others next to him before addressing, “Harry Evans, I presume?”
Harry nodded dumbly. The grey eyes, even if they had the same colour, held a far softer edge. They weren’t the eyes of someone who had fought battles or stayed in Azkaban. They were lively, not fierce, curious and something else. “How does a mudblood know my name?”
The name pierced straight through his dazed state. Of course, this wasn’t Sirius. This wasn’t a man who hadn't spent time with Lily Evans or had seen the beauty of her. Who had not come to tolerate and accept muggleborns.
This was a pureblood, who cared about his image; who cared about blood superiority. He had not been taught differently. What had Harry expected?
Sighing Harry responded, “Excuse me, I have heard of you and… wanted to see if it was true.”
If you were true. He wasn’t. He never would be. Not ever again. Sirius. Orion. Orion not Sirius.
He turned and approached the seat, he sat in this morning, whilst he heard a whispered, “Strange.”
Sitting down, he remembered that Orion knew his name eventhough they had never mmet.He glanced at them.
Grabbing a boiled potato, some peas and a treacle tart –of course. He pushed an egg towards Ornella who quickly devoured it, the bump of her body pressing against his neck, promoting him to place her on his lap after a bit of protest.
She quickly became lax as he ate his food and mulled over the dream, mostly. He sat there unaware of the many eyes turning his way. He ate not knowing that Riddle held a meeting with the Knights of Walburgis. He stroked a finger down Ornella’s scales heedles of the judgement that was placed upon him. The hierarchy has changed. And he was unaware.
'A mudblood battling Riddle?' The rumors spread like wildfire. 'And almost beating him, so I have heard.' The halls were filled with whispers. 'I heard, that Riddle burned him. Non-verbal at that.' Students spoke to other houses, exchanges stories and theories. 'He has apparently done something to piss Riddle off, though nobody knows what.'
As Harry set off to go to the dorm, balancing Ornella's unmoving form on his crossed arms, he could not shake the feeling most people knew him by now. Not like they had when he was the golden boy but rather more negatively. Like the times he was accused of cheating or liying, spreading biased information.
Gritting his teeth he stalked down the corridors. He could never, not one day, get rest, could he?
How nice of Riddle to draw the attention back to him. That was definitely what he wanted and needed.
He quickly made his way towards the Slytherin common room, mumbling a quick 'Moonskin' to allow his entry. There were a few students sitting around the fireplace, their heavy gaze emphasized by the green tinged light. With clenched jaw, he approached the staircase leading to the dormitories.
However before he went up, he noticed that none of his year-mates were in the common room. He had expected to at least see Lestrange. He felt uneasy at that fact and quickened his pace towards the room.
He knew that it could be that they were just at another part of the castle, however his gut feeling told him otherwise. And his gut feeling had always helped him against Voldemort —well not always but in essential situations.
After he opened the door to a deserted dormitory, Harry made his way to his bed, drawing the curtains shut and taking 'Time a Magic' out from underneath a pile of clothes. Maybe he should look up a spell that would prevent others from opening his trunk, he had had the experience before. He still remembered what it felt like, seeing the Gryffindor dormitory torn up because Ginny had stolen Riddle’s diary.
He settled onto the bed after taking his shoes off and lay Ornella onto his lap. He skipped a few pages after skimming the table of contents. The headline read, 'The foundations of time magic'. He had expected the author to start listing aspects to the cause of it, he was however met with the sentence, 'Everything that happens while influenced by time magic, has already happened.'
Well... He let his gaze rest upon the green curtain. Had it influenced the future? Had he influenced the future? He had never heard Slughorn mention his name before even if he has changed his name, Slughorn would have still talked about him. Or had something happened that made Slughorn not want to mention his name.
Dumbledore even. Would the man not have told him about.. well, himself.
What would their reason be? Why had they not tried to change the events? Had they even known about it?
He felt his chest tighten and turned his attention back to the book. The chapter talked about the connection and affect time magic had on the magical core. Although that because of the disclosed information of the Ministry of Magic, the mentioned aspects were vague in their explanation.
It depicted the difference between having a smaller or weaker magical core and having a bigger or stronger one. It even differentiated weak and strong with small and big.
The author has stated that only because a magical core is smaller, there is no reason for it to be weaker. Such as a bigger one doesn't always replicate a stronger core. Wizards with a larger core, so the author said, have an easier compatibility with other magical objects and find it easier to access their magic. They can perform spells more naturally whilst the one with smaller cores may take thrice the time to achieve it.
The strength of a core is viewed as the compactness of one’s magical essence. Pure energy. This energy is used to cast spells, enhance potions and generally is the reason the wizarding world can do or has magic.
Time magic is closely linked to this energy and the compatibility of the core. If the core is smaller, the wizard may possess difficulty when they travel back or forward in time. Possessing a larger core apparently helps the wizard's magic enact with the time magic. Which is only enhanced if the traveller has a stronger core.
Harry lay the book down, his eyes starting to hurt, rubbing his palms at them after taking off his glasses. The chapter proved to be interesting, he didn't understand why it wasn't taught at Hogwarts.
Sighing, he lend his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He wasn't that used to reading that much but the topic on cores actually sounded interesting. He wondered if there were books on wand cores and if they were just as interesting.
He had never really indulged in actually learning about magic, just appreciating it. Perhaps the many branches of magic proofed to be far more than just boring texts or patronising lessons from Snape.
He had taken a liking to the subject Care of Magical Creatures since it mostly applies in practical fields. Of course, Hagrid wasn’t that well of a teacher but it had been fascinating at times. Getting to know some creatures that might have been left out by others because they were deemed too dangerous.
Shifting the book and Ornella to the side, he got out of bed and filed a few clean clothes in his arms. Closing the curtains before he left, Harry made sure to stash the book under his pillow. There was adjoined bathroom in the dormitories, probably made with an expansion spell, otherwise Harr had no idea how every Room of Hogwarts fit on such small grounds.
It was a simple bathroom; a shower, sink, toilette and a basket for laundry. He closed the door behind him, stripped and stepped into the shower. Showering before going to bed had been something he got used to as a child. Doing the chores by day, he had felt itchy and uncomfortable at night every time aunt Petunia or uncle Vernon had forbidden him to take a shower before bed.
He had seen that many of the students at Hogwarts showered in the morning. They did not seem to care as much, only because of Ron he had found out that the house elves clean the bedsheets every morning. Still, he had never gotten rid of that habit even though Hermoine had introduced him to a cleaning charm, which he rarely used on his own body; feeling uncomfortableeverytime the conjured water washed over his body.
The hot water hitting his back, eased his tense muscles. The healed skin of his shoulder was almost back to its usual colour, the only indicator of there having been a wound was the lighter, slightly pinkish skin.
He ran a finger over the skin, noting its sensitivity. The healing salve proved to be similar to the ones in the future, it had taken a lot longer to heal and it was far more like naturally healed skin.
His gaze fell onto the small scar on his right forearm. Harry traced the light line with an finger. The basilisk had pierced him there. The venom had spread throughout his body only saved by Fawkes' tears. The Chamber of Secrets, what a hilarious name.
Chamber of Secrets. What Secrets had been there to hide? The statues? The bones? The basilisk? Everyone knew that it bore a monster, everyone had suspected that people had been killed down there, and statues everyone suspected.
Perhaps he could visit the chamber again but this time he could make sure to really inspect his surroundings. Last time, he had only taken notice of the smell and the bones. But, if he wasn’t wrong, Riddle had sent the basilisk into a slumber, making it safer for him to explore.
With the decision to do so tomorrow, he washed his hair and turned of the shower, dressing in the clean clothes, which ―for once― actually fit. Harry assessed the clothes in the mirror. It had been only a few times that he had slept without Dudley’s worn robes, however he had to admit that they suited him.
The dark green colour of the loose shirt and the black of his sweatpants, let his skin appear more tan and emphasised his eye colour. His hair however wouldn’t be tamed which is why it, as always, lay like a birds nest on top of his head.
He quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face again. His glasses gliding down his slightly wet nose after placing them on again. As he excited the room, he noticed the many hushed voices. The mini-Lord’s followers seemed to have returned. With a sigh he made his way towards his bed, trying to ignore the others. They, however, seemed to have quieted down when he entered. How curious.
“Hullo,” he mumbled and made to open his curtains was unfortunately stopped when Malfoy asked, “Have you graced us with your presence again, mudblood?”
He hadn’t even tried to hide the sarcasm. He turned to face the blond and was confronted by Malfoy receiving a ―wary?― glance from Avery. “I do have a name, you know,” said Harry. “But, taking into account that I have already told you, you’re probably not that good at remembering things, huh Malfoy?”
Abraxas furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t think, I understand.”
Harry approached Malfoy slowly noticing the way Avery tensed and Lestrange shot them a few glances. So they had talked about him.
Harry stopped in front of him and whispered, “Doesn’t Riddle want you to play nice?” He saw Malfoy stiffening. Oh, yes, he was correct. Riddle was the type to not outright confront one; no, he would gain their favour by manipulating them; first their surroundings, the people they are close to and will get to know, and afterwards he would be the one to receive affection and trust.
Not with him, however. No. He would be the one to pull the strings here, the one to outsmart the other. He would change Riddle, the way he would have been changed by him; starting off with the people close to him. Abraxas Malfoy.
He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of Malfoy’s ear, voice low enough that only he could understand him, “Did he not entrust you a diary? One to keep safe?”
Yes. He remembered being told that the Malfoy’s had kept it ever since it was given to them by Riddle, he had only guessed that it has already happened, but by the way Malfoy reared back he knew he was correct.
“How do you,” Malfoy started, shock morphing into anger and outright panic. “HOW do you know this?”
Harry couldn’t help the grin that was spreading across his face. Seeing another Malfoy so worked up was definitely the best thing to do. They had always the mentality of being better than everyone else, Harry however could get under their skin in no time. Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy and now Abraxas Malfoy.
“Oh,” mocked harry. “Wasn’t this common knowledge. I am just a mudblood after all. How could I know about something other than a degrading amount of information.”
Malfoy clenched his jaw and straightened his back, “Listen here, Evans.” Oh, he was calling him by his name. How nice of him although it could lack the venom. “I have no idea how you know of this, but you better not tell anyone.”
Oh how much Harry wanted to say, ‘Or what?’ but he was unfortunately interrupted by Riddle coming in through the door. Harry supressed a roll of his eyes and went back to his bed, not ready to deal with Riddle. He took one last glance around the room and acknowledged how Lestrange seemed to have forgotten the book in his head, instead staring into open space, whilst Avery was turned away from Harry, if his tense shoulders weren’t a giveaway of his poor state.
Closing the curtains, he lay his glasses on the nightstand and positioned Ornella, once again, on his chest, ready to fall asleep.
The next day, Harry sat at breakfast. Next to him Lestrange and Avery sat; Riddle and Abraxas were in front him. He had looked around and asked them, "Are there no girls in our year?"
Lestrange raised an eyebrow, "Trying to find a Lady, Evans?"
Harry rolled his eyes and let Riddle answer him, though his voice filled Harry’s veins with a burning fire, "Unfortunately our year was a rather small one and the girls which were sorted, have been sorted into other houses."
Harry nodded slowly, well he had found Riddle’s problem. He had not received a woman's scolding or was at the receiving end of their rage. Had he gotten laid?
Probably not, echoed the voice in his mind. Harry snorted, earning a few quizzed looks from the other's but waved them off, "I'll get to my next class."
As he made to stand up, Avery righted himself as well, "You have Care of Magical Creatures next, don’t you?"
Harry eyed him warily before humming. Avery stood as well saying, "Then I'll come along."
Harry shrugged, not wanting to make a scene in the Great Hall, "Do what you want."
Ornella squirmed beneath his sleeve. He had convinced her to stay there this morning. Avery and he walked through the castle in silence. Avery led them outside, telling Harry that their professor, Mrs. Graying, had planned to show them something outside.
Harry tried to suppress his anticipation. When a teacher wanted to show them something, they mostly tried to do something practical. In CoMC this mostly included a new creature being introduced.
Harry was of course interested in what it might be. Perhaps it would be one that his previous teachers had already introduced to them.
As they approached the forbidden forest, Harry noticed the missing hut but did not comment on it. His eyes flickered to the place where it will stand, his throat tightening. After a few moments, chatter filled his ears and his gaze fixated upon a small group of students.
He noted the blue ties and open looks, one person in particular stood out. Her hair blond, a dazed look and dreamy smile on her lips. Luna, was at the tip of his tongue. He held himself back however and was guided to another few people, Hufflepuffs.
Harry did not listen as Avery started talking to them. He did not respond when they tried to talk to them. His gaze settled on the blond haired girl staring off in to the air, blue eyes unfocused.
The resemblance to Luna was unremarkable. She wore bright red earrings and a yellow and green beads. She held a few parchments in her hand but nor to the point of crinkling them.
He was snapped back to focus when professor Graying arrived and apprised them to follow her. The few minutes of walking ended by them standing in a clearing. A soft murmur broke out between the students as they saw a few hares with antlers hopping in front of them.
"Can anyone tell me what these are?" The soft voice of Professor Graying cut through the whispers, silencing them. A Hufflepuff raised his hand, "Those are Jackalopes, miss."
She hummed, "Indeed. They are as you can see known to have small antlers sprouting from their head, they use so to defend their territory or other threats."
Harry watched the hares hopping around each other, their playful behaviour not being an indicator to their 'apparent' defence system. Harry looked around. The students seemed to be attending in their territory, he guessed that it was the clearing, though he wasn’t sure. They however were not attacked by the Jackalopes.
"But do not worry," continued their professor. "It is not in their nature to outright attack someone. They are known to be rather shy, that's why we must stay quiet. They are native to the United States of America but there were a some colonies who have settled down in other countries. It is only recently that I discovered this one," remarked she proudly.
"They are known to have a sense of righteousness, making it easier for them to evaluate the invaders intentions. They are found to enjoy the company of those creatures of good heart," explained she and started approaching a Jackalope.
Her slow steps caused the hares to stiffen but as she tentatively reached out a hand, one of the bigger Jackalopes sniffed the air and warily hopped over to her, rubbing his antlers against her. Professor Graying smiled and rubbed two fingers softly on top of the Jackalope’s head. The lesson continued with the students trying to approach the Jackalopes. Many ran off while others stayed and watched the trying students carefully.
Harry had sat down at some point, Ornella laying beside him, coiled up. A few Jackalopes had settled down next to him, rubbing their antlers against his clothes and skin. He smiled and petted them, Ornella sometimes hissing words like, “I could eat you right now, you know that?”
Harry huffed a laugh when Ornella’s scales were obscured by the brown fur of a Jackalope that nestled into her. She had at first been annoyed and complained about her hunger but soon settled down.
He did not see someone approach, only as the blond haired girl sat down did he acknowledge her. His fingers hesitated in petting a Jackalope for a moment before continuing. “They are very nice, aren’t they?” The girl resembling Luna looked up, her red earrings and beads swinging with the movement.
He hummed, “Yes.”
Her smile was muzzy, “ Quite nice to spent time with them.”
Harry raised both eyebrows and let his eyes trace the soft edges of her face, “Time, yes.”
She looked down, “They do like anomalies; the Jackalopes, I mean.”
He let his gaze drop as well, Ornella seemed to have fallen asleep. Anomalies? Did she know about the time-travel thing? She was very much like Luna. ”I’m Harry Lillien Evans, by the way.”
Her smile only seemed to increase, “Luna Fae Evergreen.” Luna. So she was probably related to his Luna. Harry couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips, thinking about the similarities between them. “Harry Lillien Evans is also a very beautiful and original too just like your mother.”
Harry took a sharp breath at the mentioning of his mother but did not look up, he was already used to the strange awareness the Lovegoods ―and apparently― held. “Thanks,” mumbled he.
“I do hope we will see each other again,” said Luna Fae Evergreen as she stroked the fur of a Jackalope and stood up just as they were told that it was the end of their lesson by professor Graying.
Avery was surprised to see not only him but Ornella too surrounded by so many Jackalopes. He had to supress a grin as many of the hares ran off when the other Slytherin had approached but took it has sign to leave as well. Gathering Ornella in his sleeve and throwing the bag, which lay scattered on the ground, over his shoulder, he followed Avery out of the forest.
They made their way to their next class, advanced Charms, this would be interesting. He tried to imagine anyone else but professor Flitwick teach that subject but just couldn’t. He let Avery complain about his failure to come close to even one Jackalope, which greatly amuse Harry. Apparently Avery had not listened when professor Graying had explained that they have a great sense of righteousness.
As they got closer to the Charms classroom, harry noticed the way Avery seemed to go quiet. He shrugged it off and entered without checking on the other. The spacious room held a fair amount of seating opportunities, Harry chose to sit at the very front, next to a few Ravenclaws and even Hufflepuffs.
As he finished pulling out a quill and parchments, he noticed that someone had sat down next to him, which wouldn’t have been a problem, if there weren’t that many free seats left.
He regarded the other person with annoyance, that only gratified when he noticed who it was. Tom fucking Riddle. That guy just couldn’t leave him alone, could he? He huffed and glanced at Riddle a few times as he waited for the lesson to start.
That jerk just had to look perfect, hadn’t he? His hair was distracting him, with that slight swirl gliding down the side of his face. Why couldn’t he just be as bald as Voldemort was? Would be easier for most people not to be enchanted by him.
He watched as riddle placed a parchment and quill on the table and said, “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”
Riddle paused and glance at him. Then he continued arranging them while saying, “Why should I? This is my usual seat.”
Harry rolled his eyes, of course it was. His eyes assessed Riddle as the man leaned back against the bench and crossed his ankles. “Aren’t you at least going to apologize?”
Riddle raised an eyebrow and turned his head, those deep brown eyes boring into his. Brown not red, noted Harry. “Again; why should I?”
Harry let out a shaky breath, filled with disbelief and incredulity. “Because you attacked me.”
“You attacked me first.”
“No, I did not.”
“You were the one who threw an uncontrolled spell at me, which could have injured me.”
He clenched his fist, “It was part of the practice, Riddle. And you burned me.”
“It was self-defence while yours wasn’t,” stated Riddle, turning his head towards the teachers desk as another man stepped into the room.
Harry was seething. He would have punched Riddle right then and there had the teacher not started the lesson. The young professor, Mr. Opera, Harry had soon learned, taught them about Aquamenti, the water-conjuring-spell. Harry knew most of the information, still remembering some of it from professor Flitwick’s class. He raised his hands a few times throughout class, getting to see the slight hardening in Riddle’s features every time he was chosen instead of him.
Anytime he answered, Riddle would try to fill in missing or disjointed information, which led to them being praised by professor Opera at the end of the period for ‘such excellent’ participation. Harry would have done far more than just smile at Riddle when the other’s lips quirked up at the compliment.
“See, Evans,” commented Riddle as they packed their supplied. “We would make such a great team.”
He slung the bag over his shoulder, Ornella quietly hissing in his sleeve. “You wish.”
“Oh, I do,” commented Riddle and let his gaze drop to the place where Ornella rested.
“So keep on whishing,” dismissed Harry and turned towards the door. He did not care that some of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws stared at them. He had a hunch that ‘nobody’ dismissed Riddle.
Walking down the halls of Hogwarts, he decided that he wasn’t in the mood to eat. Another habit he got whilst living at the Dursleys. Anytime he felt something negative, like sadness, regret or anger, he had been punished by the deprivation of food.
They had told him that it was because of his freakish abilities that have shown whenever he had an outburst of such emotions. It had led to him not being able to stomach anything when he was feeling down or upset. Up until now, Hermoine had been the one to take care of hat, to make sure that and how he ate.
That is why instead of walking towards the Great Hall he went back to the dormitories and collected a few pieces of parchment as well as the book he had chosen for his advanced potions essay. He chose to use these free periods to work on the essay Slughorn had given them and since he had a free period afterwards, he was in no hurry to finish.
As he made his way towards the library, he asked himself whether Ornella would be allowed to eat in the library. She wouldn't be disturbing others and would just lie around. He entered the shut off corridor leading to the library and settled down in a deserted part of the reference section.
He laid out his parchments, quills and the book he had brought. Letting Ornell coil herself on top of the table, he grabbed another book depicting the ingredient euphoria in far more detail.
Sitting back down at the table and reading a few pages, taking notes, he felt like Hermoine. It had only been two days and he had spent every free hour of his day reading books. Of course it was to help him get back or trying to fit in but it was still impressive to see himself read that much. Hermoine would be proud... Ron not so much.
He sighed and tried to focus on his notes. They were already a foot long and the only thing he had taken notes on was the ingredient euphoria. He eyed the book on the Draught of Living Death; reluctantly he closed the book he had been working on and put it aside, shoving it into Ornella who had eaten a mouse and now lay unmoving.
He first wrote down a few facts he still remembered and compared them to the passages in the book. He had just finished taking his notes when he noticed a few students walking by. He cast a non-verbal tempus.
Lunch had just ended which meant he had the rest of the free period to work on the essay. Resting his head on the table, his glasses digging painfully into his nose and cheeks. His eyes burned slightly and his hand ached softly. After the year he had spent with Umbridge, he was sure no assignment or task would be worse than hers and that’s why his hand could handle a few more writing sessions.
He hurriedly got to work, wanting to put an end to it as quickly as possible. His notes and book soon lay scattered over another, Harry leaning over the table, trying to have an eligible handwriting for once. It was already hard for him to try and complete the essay but if this was the first assignment he would hand in, he did not want to seem uncaring.
Ornella looked up at him sometime throughout the process, her tongue flicking out. She tried to help but was rapidly deemed futile. Harry had not noticed that he had spoken parseltongue in public but luckily, due to the deserted section he had chosen, no one had noticed. He lectured himself to be more careful and got back to finishing the essay.
After a few more minutes, harry finally reached the end, he collected the parchments in his hand and was pleased with himself, to have completed it without anyone’s help.
He stroked a hand down Ornella’s scales earning a satisfied hiss. Smiling he gathered both potion books and went to the librarian to make sure she knew he had returned both books. She nodded at him and told him to place them back in their original place, so Harry did. Walking through the thousands upon thousand books and shelfs, he crossed the reference section, letting the books fly back on their own.
Returning to his spot, he piled his essay and let Ornella settle herself beneath his sleeve. Casting another tempus, he noticed that he had enough time to bring everything back to the dormitory before going to Transfiguration.
He picked up his quills in his other hand and went back to the Slytherin dormitories which weren’t that distant, the library being on the first floor while the common room was in the dungeons.
Once he arrived in the dormitory, Harry grabbed a bag and began packing his Herbology book as well as parchments and quills. As he did so, Ornella sked, “How long do I need to walk around?”
Rasing an eyebrow, Harry said, “First of all, you don’t need to do anything. Second of all,” he looked down at the black head poking out of his sleeve. “You don’t walk.”
“My Harry, I need to go with you. Who will protect you otherwise,” tried Ornella, bumping her nose against the back of his hand.
Harry stared down at her for a bit, then shrugged stiffly. “It won’t take that long anyway. I only have Herbology left.”
Ornella hissed but retreated back inside the sleeve. He let out a long sigh and made his way towards his last class of the day. He arrived to see Lestrange, Avery and Malfoy sharing a desk; Riddle was no where in sight. He chose not to sit next to the other Slytherins, having spotted Luna Evergreen at the front of the class.
Approaching her, he was about to greet her but got cut off as she turned her blue eyes at him, “Hello, Harry.”
“…Luna,” said Harry, although it was a bit reluctant, far too familiar to be addressed to someone he had just met that day.
The smile on the blond girl’s fact did not waver however and she instructed, “Do sit down Harry, I believe you will have company soon.”
Company? Harry did not understand what Luna meant but he sat down anyway. They engaged in a comfortable conversation, talking about Jackalopes when a person sat down on the other side of Harry. He glanced at, who would have guessed, Tom Riddle.
He really had to be taught when a person is ready to be interacted with and when not. He scowled and turned away once more, angling his body slightly further away from him. Luna saw this and snickered, her beads falling into her line of sight. “Interesting how it is chosen.”
He cocked his head, “What?”
Luna hummed in question her eyes focusing back on him.
“What is chosen?” He knew how to handle Luna and her strange conversations but at times one needed to make sure they had understood her correctly. But other times she did not even know herself; like now.
She blinked at him, “Chosen?”
“Nothing,” mumbled Harry, shaking his head minimally. He turned his gaze back to the teachers desk, where a tall elegant woman stood. Black hair bound into a bun, the front strands waving around her face. The sharp features and brown eyes, somehow reminded him of Riddle.
"So you know, Ms. Evergreen?" Speaking of the devil.
He soared Riddle a look, resting his cheek on top of his hand. There were a few similarities between the Herbology teacher and Riddle. But the professor was not as captivating as Riddle posed to be. Perhaps it was because the waves of his hair, emphasized their black colour and the overall shape; perhaps it were the eyes, in which Riddle's owned much more compassion; maybe the stance, while the teacher seemed tense, Riddle was relaxed and collected.
He hummed, "We had Care of Magical Creatures this morning."
Riddle smiled at him, edges soft, eyes warm, "It's good to see you settle in."
Nodding he slightly angled his head towards him; their gazes met. The brown was unlike the one it had been in the chamber, nor like the one in the fight; it was far more like in the memories when he was talking to someone. His eyes appeared too nice, too alluring to be real.
"Do you like student from other houses more?", asked Riddle.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Why's that?"
Riddle’s gaze slid towards Luna, "You seem more eager to associate with students that aren't from your own house."
Harry shrugged, "I guess."
Turning away, he heard the other's voice smooth and captivating, convincing, "We aren't that bad, you know."
Harry rolled his eyes, Sure...
The teacher, Professor Rayclock, started the lesson. It was quite boring actually, Professor Sprout was, although an importunate woman, far more invested in the subject. She at least, knew how to keep the attention at hand; professor Rayclock had no idea how to handle the students. She just kept on talking, not even registering that many of the students had stopped listening, some even outright performing spells at the back of the class.
The period stretched and Harry was just as ready to fall asleep as others in that class, if it weren't for Riddle always pestering him to pay attention. After a few times Riddle had pointed this out, Harry turned to him and whispered, "Look," Riddle raised an eyebrow. "This lesson is bloody boring. I don't care whether you like it or not, but it's really just a waste of time."
"You act like, you know how to handle the students better," Riddle smiled at him.
Harry grinned at him, remembering Dumbledore's Army. "I do, actually."
Riddle’s intense expression was enough to remind him who he was talking to. He scowled and turned towards Luna, who was already watching them. He saw the slight twinkle in her eyes and felt a vein thrum on his forehead and warned, "Don't even start."
Luna shrugged still , her earrings swinging. The rest of the lesson was spent fighting to stay awake. He even noticed Ornella having rested her head on his forearm and laying still, probably asleep as well. He chose to stroke the fabric over her scales as a way to pass time, Riddle had as the lesson came to an end started to watch the movements of his fingers.
After professor Rayclock dismissed them and Harry was packing his things, Riddle asked, "What do you plan to do this evening, now that classes are over?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. Was Riddle asking him about his plans? He was quite sure there was an ulterior motive behind it, so he vaguely answered, "Explore the school."
"I could accompany you," suggested Riddle.
"As I said before, I learn better when I am alone that includes exploring things."
He wouldn’t let Riddle know about his plan to go visit the Chamber of Secrets. Riddle did not seem irked by it, nodding and telling him, "Very well. But do mind the curfew as a prefect and head-boy I will not reduce the punishment if I see you in the corridor past curfew."
"Didn't expect otherwise," replied Harry and slung the bag over his shoulder, quickly exiting the room after bidding Luna goodbye.
He deposited his things in the dormitory before making his way down the halls of the second floor. He always made sure that before turning a corner he made sure nobody was following him. Thankfully most students were either outside or in common rooms at these hours.
As he finally got to the girls bathroom, he hesitated. He wasn't sure whether it was a good idea. He wasn't even sure why he was doing this and how it could affect him. Taking a deep breath he entered the bathroom.
It was far tidier and cleaner than in the future. Clearly, Myrtle hadn't started throwing tantrums. He approached the sink, tracing a finger over the snake emblem. The slight curvature gliding smoothly beneath his fingertips. He leaned in closer, whispering, not wanting to be too loud, "Open."
The tap emerged in a white glow and spun. The sink sank down and revealed the slide. He looked around again, making sure he was alone before stepping into the opening and gliding down the slide.
He tried to slow his speed as he felt the pipe evening out, coming to a stop before the slide ended, he hopped off. His feet landing on the dark, damp stone.
He saw that there were still many animal bones, however not as many. The tunnel was still as quiet as always. The smell of death lingered in the air.
His gaze slid towards passageway, noting the missing basilisk skin. He followed the path, he remembered from his second year. Unease still spread amongst his body as he moved through the many corridors.
However, Harry had to admit that the beauty of the stones was unremarkable. They shone even though there was little light. The skeletons complimented the black colour like night and day.
After a few more turns, he finally came across the stone wall on which the two serpents entwined. The carvings stood out with the glinting emerald gems as eyes.
Unlike in his second year, Harry approached the two serpents calmly, their beauty as enchanting as Riddles. Darm and alluring. He hissed, "Open."
Ornella poked her head out as the two serpents parted and the wall split into two. She spoke up as Harry entered the chamber, "Where are we, my Harry?"
He raised his arm on which Ornella has raised herself, "Finally awake, I see."
She hissed softly when he stroked a finger down her head, "Yes. Now tell me, my Harry."
He huffed a laugh, "We're in the Chamber of Secrets. A Chamber built by the founders of Hogwarts."
"How nice, will you let me explore this chamber?", asked Ornella head held high.
He had to admit that perhaps he was just feeling safer because Ornella was with him but he did not want to deny her request either. Sighing he bent down and let her slither onto the damp floor. "It’s quite cold here, my Harry," noted she and started moving forward, Harry following her. "Why would you want to go here?"
Harry looked around, the green tinge making it similar to the Slytherin common room. The pillars lining the walls and carved out serpents intertwining on the ceiling. "I wanted to explore this chamber."
"I can help you, my Harry. What are you looking for? I smell a greater serpent just down the hall."
Huffing a laugh he quickly explained, "No, no. I do not wish to encounter it again. What you smell is a basilisk." Ornella perked up at that, her head rising and turning towards him, stopping them both.
"A basilisk? Why would you not want to meet it?" Her hissing sounded fast, almost exited.
"Oh, I have already... met it," noted Harry and was moving again, his gaze always turning from one side to another, looking for an alcove or a door; finding none. He ignored Ornella’s fussing over how great it must have been to meet a serpent that powerful and survive. "I am looking for something different. Like a room or a niche. Something that could be occupied by humans."
"Then I will look for something like that, my Harry."
He smiled at her, "Thank you, Ornella."
Together they moved through the chamber, inspecting every pillar, Harry lastly approached the statue of Salazar Slytherin. The ginormous form of the founder towered every other statue and was emphasized by the bundling light, that illuminated his form. He craned his neck, trying to look up at the now closed mouth of Salazar. Remembering that this was the exit of which the serpent had come through, he told Ornella, “Yah, no. I don’t think we’re going to meet the basilisk anytime soon.” Luckily.
Ornella however was not as grateful, hissing a low, “Sadly.”
His gaze travelled down the huge statue, most of it covered by the long beard that almost reached the floor. Harry squinted his eyes. Almost. In the shadows, were the beard ended and robes continued, the small outline of what appeared to be a door was. “Follow me.”
Ornella obliged as he paced towards the shadowed part of the statue. She hissed, “Have you found something, my Harry?”
“I hope so.”
As they neared the shadows, Ornella noted, “Yes, indeed my Harry.” He glanced down at her, slowing his pace slightly. “I smell it now. It’s smells warm and like the place you have been at before… Her- Herbology?”
Before that? Where had he been before that? The dormitories and common room, the library. A library?