Chapter 8
Salazar Slytherin's portrait had "lived" a very long time and had met many people (at least until his descendant had hidden him away) so the moment he met Harrison Potter-Black, he knew the boy was a Dark Lord.
Most portraits couldn't sense magic, but Salazar's was special. He and the other founders had tied their portraits' magic to the school, so he could tell how powerful a wixen was, as well as their core. The two boys in front of him were very powerful and Dark, with the red-heads swirling chaotically and the raven's curled protectively around himself. The red-head was grinning maniacally, insanity glowing in his AK green eyes. The elder twin's AK green eyes were calculating, but his expression was unreadable.
"Severus," Salazar greeted his current Head of House. "Well met, xe wixen."
"Well met, xe wixen," the elder twin returned blankly. The red-head echoed him, bouncing in place. "I am Harrison James Potter-Black, and this is my twin brother, Harlequin Eli Potter-Black."
"The son of James Potter and Lily Evans... and Regulus?" Salazar guessed. The two boys nodded, and Harrison's eyes grew shrewd. "A pleasure to meet you."
"They are descended from you, through their mother," Severus added dryly.
Salazar blinked.
"Harrison took the Slytherin and Ravenclaw Heirships -- he is my godson -- and Harley is the Heir to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, through James and his godfather," Severus continued.
A sudden memory seized him, and Salazar leaped from his chair. "The heirs of Hogwarts," he rasped.
"What is it?" Severus demanded, all three Slytherins suddenly alert.
"I told you that Rowena was a Seer?" Severus nodded cautiously. "She foresaw this. She gave a prophecy."
Severus pinched his nose. "Not another one."
Salazar scoffed. "Sybill Trelawney is not a Seer. That prophecy is fake." He ignored the horrified look on Severus' face and the furious looks on the boys' faces and continued.
"This is Ro's prophecy:
"Two will be born of three: a stag, a doe, and a raven.
At the fall of the seventh month,
Heirs of moor, glen, valley, and fen.
If the Phoenix leaves them alone in peril,
Dark will prevail,
But without the abuse of related guardians,
The Dark will fall again."
"Why does some of it rhyme and some of it doesn't?" Harley Potter-Black asked as his brother and Severus began discussing the prophecy quietly.
"Most Seers can't control how they speak a prophecy," Salazar said with a sigh, "but Ro could. She liked to annoy everyone by rhyming part of it but not all of it."
The boy snickered, then poked his brother. "So whassit mean?"
Harrison Potter-Black gave him an irritated look. "'Stag, doe, and raven' refers to our parents' Patronuses. 'Moor, glen, valley, and fen' refer to where the founders were born. Because Dumbledore didn't check up on us himself, and because we terrified the Dursleys into not abusing us, we're helping Voldemort, not him."
"Dursleys?" Salazar repeated.
"Dumbledore gave them to Lily's sister," Severus said sourly.
"The magic-hating Muggle?" Salazar said in disbelief. "How is a Muggle, especially one who hates magic, supposed to raise two wixen children? Especially a Dark Lord?"
Harrison Potter-Black gave him a dark look.
"I can sense magic," Salazar explained. "I won't tell anyone."
"Good."
And although Salazar's portrait was almost invincible, he shivered.
"We came because we believe that Dumbledore has put Tenebris under a spell," Severus said.
Salazar scowled. "He shouldn't be able to do that! Tenebris is one of Hogwarts' four guardians!"
"Wait, what?" Harley asked in glee.
"You didn't tell me that," Severus frowned.
"I don't tell anyone unless my current Head of House is a Truth Seer, or someone I trust already know Tenebris exists," Severus retorted. "Selene told me he would be in danger if I told anybody else."
"Who are the other three guardians, sir?" Harrison asked quietly.
"Rowena's familiar, an Augury named Ava; Godric's familiar, a golden wyvern named Regis; and Helga's familiar, a Phoenix named Fawkes."
"We met Fawkes!" Harley said in glee.
"Everyone believes Fawkes belongs to Dumbledore," Harrison said with a frown.
Salazar snorted. "He had a Phoenix, yes, but it belonged to his nephew, Aurelius Dumbledore. They're both missing, presumed dead."
"But a Phoenix can't die," said Harley.
"They can be killed," Salazar corrected.
"By pouring water on them just before they turn to ashes," Harrison said. "What happened to Ava and Regis?"
"I don't know," Salazar admitted. "Selene hid them somewhere and never got around to telling me. They could be in Rowena's and Godric's secret rooms."
"Secret rooms?" Harrison repeated, both boys looking curious.
"Every founder left secret rooms in their common rooms," Salazar replied, smirking. "No one's managed to find them yet, except the Truth Seers, but they haven't said anything. They're filled with objects related to our professions: mine has several different potions ingredients, Rowena's is filled to the brim with books she wrote, Hegla's is basically a giant indoor greenhouse of ancient plants, and Godric, of course, had to put every weapon known to man, beast, and being inside his." He rolled his eyes fondly.
"Where's yours?" Harley asked eagerly, as Severus looked intrigued.
Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Now, where's the fun in just telling you, Mr. Potter-Black? I'm sure you and your brother can figure it out easily."
"I have several ideas already," Harrison agreed. "But I'm sure you put several red herrings around to confuse people, yes?"
Salazar smirked but didn't reply. Harley cackled.
"How was practice?" Neville asked, raising an eyebrow at their muddy clothes.
"Wet," Blaise drawled, rolling his eyes when he spotted Hermione cleaning up their muddy footprints behind them (and then snorting when Harley deliberately spread more mud around). "How was your day, being in the warm, dry castle?"
"I've been trying to look for Professor Hufflepuff's secret rooms," Neville said excitedly. "It's a little hard to do that when the common room's so crowded, of course, but barely anybody pays attention to me anyway."
"How has your search for the diary gone?" Harrison asked. "Harley, stop that, you're giving more work to Gordon Trelawney-White."
Harley pouted.
"I don't really talk to anyone except you outside of classes," Neville admitted. "I've taken to just listening. I think I've ruled out everyone except-"
"Shh," Blaise hissed, as a ghost turned the corner, muttering irritably.
"...don't fulfill their requirements... half and inch, if that..."
"Hello, Sir Nick," Harrison said politely. The Gryffindor ghost stopped in front of them and blinked, head wobbling dangerously on his neck.
"Oh, hello," said Sir Nearly Headless Nick. "Harrison Potter-Black, is it?" He only looked vaguely interested as none of them were in his house.
"Yes, sir. You look troubled," Harrison said sleekly. Blaise glanced between them. "Is something wrong?"
"Ah," the ghost said, waving a hand dismissively, "a matter of no importance... It's not as though I really wanted to join... Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements-'"
"Requirements for what, sir?" Hermione asked interestedly.
Sir Nick whipped out a transparent letter, scowling. "The Headless Hunt, of course! You'd think getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join them, wouldn't you?"
"But you're not headless," Draco frowned, "you're nearly hea-" He stopped when Blaise stepped on his foot, but Nick hadn't heard them. Instead, he began reading the ghostly letter aloud.
"'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With the very best, wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"
Nick stuffed the letter away and continued angrily, "Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my head on! Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore."
Harley snickered, then yelped when Hermione elbowed him angrily.
Harrison tapped his chin. "Sir Nicolas, is it possible for ghosts' bodies to be altered?"
"Why are you asking, Mr. Potter-Black?" the transparent man asked, puzzled.
"Well, I was just wondering if you could completely remove your head with a ghost axe."
Blaise realized Harrison's plan: the Bloody Baron carried a ghost axe, as he had killed both himself and the Gray Lady with it.
"I believe so," Sir Nicolas said, still confused. "But where-" he stopped, and his eyes lit up. "The Bloody Baron?"
Harrison nodded. "You would have to exchange a favor for it, sir, but he might be willing to assist you."
"I'm not sure what I could give him," Sir Nicolas frowned.
"I want nothing from you, Mimsy-Porpington," said a cold, deep voice. Blaise turned to see the Bloody Baron gliding up to them, looking bored. "I want a favor from a living wixen. A specific one."
"Who, Lord Baron?" Harrison asked as Neville and Ron moved behind Blaise, Draco, and Hermione.
The Baron's black eyes fell on Ron, who squeaked. "You are friends with Miss Lovegood, Mr. Weasley." It wasn't a question.
Ron gulped and nodded.
"I want to speak to her."
"And in return, you will assist Sir Nicolas?" Harrison questioned. The Baron returned his gaze to the raven-haired boy and nodded once. "We'll go look for Miss Lovegood, then."
"She's either in the library with Ginny, or in Ravenclaw tower," Hermione piped up.
"Wait," the Gryffindor Ghost said quickly. "I want to thank you for your assistance, Mr. Potter-Black. I'd like to invite you and your friends to my Death Day party."
Blaise noticed the confused derision on Ron's and Draco's faces, and he and Hermione quickly stepped on their toes to shut them up.
"It's on Halloween, during the school feast," Sir Nick continued, "in one of the roomier dungeons."
The Baron rolled his eyes. "Be sure to bring cloaks and food, young wixen. There won't be proper sustenance for the living, and the dungeons are below freezing this time of year."
Harrison nodded to the Slytherin ghost. "Thank you for the kind invitation, Sir Nicolas. We'll try to stop by, but we would also like to enjoy the Halloween feast."
"Pumpkin pie," Ron muttered dreamily. "Ow!" Hermione had stepped on his foot again, looking excited.
"Of course, of course," Sir Nick said brightly. "I won't keep you any longer."
The group hurried off.
"I wonder what he wants Luna for?" Ron said as they split up, those covered in mud to shower before dinner, and Hermione to fetch Luna.
"Dunno," Draco shrugged. "I haven't seen her since the train."
"I have," Harley chirped. "Harrison's curious about her, so I keep an eye on her when she's not in Ravenclaw tower or in class. She's really only friends with the Gray Lady and Ginny, most people think she's loony and don't like her."
Harrison frowned. "Is she being bullied?"
"Nah, mostly ignored. I'll tell you if she is, though."
"Welcome," said Sir Nick gravely, bowing as the group passed him.
"Happy Deathbirthday!" Harley chirped, then yelped when Hermione smacked him. "Whaaaat?"
Nick laughed and waved them inside. He was holding his newly-decapitated head under his arm, beaming.
Harrison and Blaise entered first, grimacing at the 'music,' which sounded more like nails on a chalkboard. It was actually transparent musical saws.
Other than a ghost band, there was a dance floor and a table with rotten food. There were several ghosts waltzing on the dance floor, while some were floating through the food table. The Bloody Baron was in the corner, looking incredibly bored. Peeves was also there, bothering a ghost of an old woman.
"Careful not to walk through anyone," Ron muttered, and Hermione smacked him, too. Draco and Harley snickered.
"Be polite," Harrison hissed at them. "We're here to support Sir Nick."
And to talk to the Headless Hunt, Blaise thought.
"Oh, no," Hermione groaned. "Turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle-"
"Who's Moaning Myrtle?" Draco asked as they headed towards the Bloody Baron instead. Blaise spotted the ghost Hermione was talking about: a miserable girl with pigtails and glasses, about the age of twelve.
"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the second floor."
"She haunts a toilet?" Ron said in disbelief.
"Yes," said Hermione. "It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you."
"She was killed, accidentally, by Tenebris," said the Bloody Baron blankly. Harrison raised an eyebrow at him, and the ghost explained, "When the Dark Lord Voldemort was in Hogwarts, he opened the Chamber of Secrets. He wasn't trying to get rid of the Muggleborn students, like everyone thought, he was just exercising the poor, lonely beast. They had no idea Miss Pevensie was there -- she was hiding from bullies. She's not even Muggleborn, so I don't know how everyone believed the Dark Lord was hunting them in the first place."
Peeves suddenly flew over to them and was about to speak when he saw the Bloody Baron. "Your Bloodiness!" he squawked in alarm.
The Baron snorted. "Just don't harass Sir Nicolas on his Death Day, Peeves."
"Hi, Peevesy," Harley grinned.
"Your Insaneness," Peeves beamed back, bowing. "Any prankings Peevesy should know about?"
Harley just smirked in response. Blaise stifled a groan; a Peeves-Harley alliance was not a good thing.
"'Your Insaneness?'" the Baron repeated with a raised eyebrow.
"Peeves and I get along real swell, Mr. Lord Baron, sir," Harley replied, eyes lit with madness. Peeves cackled. "Why'd you come over here, then, Peevesy?"
"Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," Peeves told Hermione, eyes glittering. "Rude you was about poor Myrtle." Harrison's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as the Poltergeist turned towards the morose ghost and yelled, "OY! MYRTLE!"
The Baron sighed and moved away as the girl floated over. "What?" she asked flatly.
"Well met, xe wixen," Harrison said blankly, before Peeves could speak. "I don't believe we've met before; I'm Harrison Potter-Black, and these are my friends. You know Hermione Granger, I assume?"
"Well met," Hermione said quickly.
Myrtle relaxed a little at his calm tone, but she still looked sad. "Well met, xe wixen. I've seen Miss Granger around. I'm Myrtle Pevensie, but everyone calls me Moaning Myrtle."
"This is my brother, Harlequin Potter-Black-"
"Yo," Harley said, grinning. When Hermione made to smack him, he ducked and amended, "Well met."
"-Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom."
"Well met," Blaise said, echoed by the other three boys.
"It's nice to see you out of the toilet," Hermione said nervously.
"Miss Granger was just talking about you-" Peeves began.
"Just saying -- how nice you look tonight," Hermione said quickly.
Myrtle's eyes teared up. "You're making fun of me."
A slight frown appeared on Harrison's face. "She's not, Miss Pevensie. You look very nice tonight. Don't listen to Peeves."
Peeves pouted.
"I know what people say behind my back," Myrtle insisted. "Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moping, moaning Myrtle!"
"I think your glasses and freckles are cute," Neville said quietly, looking confused. Myrtle blushed, surprised and pleased.
"It doesn't matter what other people think, Miss Pevensie," Harrison said calmly. "The only way their opinion has any effect on you is if you decide it does. What matters is what you believe about yourself."
Myrtle blinked at him, still teary-eyed. "No one ever... I didn't think..."
A hunting horn suddenly sounded, cutting off the orchestra. Blaise turned to see a dozen ghost horses soaring through the dungeon wall, each carrying a headless rider. They flew over the cheering crowd and over to Nick, who was floating upright on the stage.
"Nick!" the lead horseman said brightly. "I see you've finally lost your head!"
Laughter.
"Yes, I had some assistance from the Bloody Baron," said Nick eagerly. "Welcome to my Death Day party, Sir Delaney-Podmore."
"Live 'uns!" Patrick Delaney-Podmore suddenly exclaimed upon seeing Harrison and his friends. He gave a fake jump of surprise, and his head fell off his shoulders onto the ground. Harley and Peeves cackled.
Nick laughed politely. "If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!"
"Oh, come now, Nick, why don't you join a game of Head Hockey instead?" the head on the floor suggested.
"Your speeches are boring anyway!" a ghost yelled.
"Shut up, Bastardy!" several ghosts snapped.
Nick hesitated. "I suppose. I've never played before-"
"Nonsense, it's easy, we'll teach you! Someone get this man a horse!"
"Let's go," Harrison said quietly as the game began. Blaise and the others followed him out of the room (Harley was pouting; obviously he wanted to watch the game).
"I thought you wanted to talk to Sir Delaney-Podmore," Blaise whispered as they headed up the stairs.
"He's disrespectful and brash. He doesn't seem the type to keep secrets well," Harrison responded, ignoring the surprised expressions on Hermione's, Ron's, Draco's and Neville's faces. "Besides, Sir Nicolas is allowed to visit Hogwarts whenever he wishes, and he still feels that he owes us. I-"
Harrison and Harley suddenly froze.
"What is it?" Draco and Ron chorused.
"Tenebris is out again," Harrison hissed. He spoke in Parseltongue, paused, and cursed. "We need to warn Uncle Severus."
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.