Imposter
“I was so sure Malfoy would’ve known something!” Ron groaned for what felt like the hundredth time, “the git didn’t even know where the chamber is!”
“Please give it a rest Ronald,” Hermione sighed, not looking up from the book in front of her.
“I can’t Hermione; we spent so long brewing that bloody potion and risking getting found by Snape! The greasy git! And for what? To find out nothing at all?” he grumbled.
Harriet also felt disappointed, even though she didn’t vocalize it. The memory of Penelope lying motionless on the floor and Nick’s blank face; was still fresh in her mind even though it happened during the holidays.
But before she could say anything, the portrait swung open and Neville walked in, his brows furrowed worriedly.
“Hullo, F-Fred and George wanted to know if any of you guys have spoken to Ginny lately,” he said, looking concerned, “They tried speaking to her a while ago but she bolted up to her dorms before they could talk to her properly. She looked real s-spooked.”
“No Neville, we haven’t,” said Hermione, a troubled frown crossing her face.
Harriet stood up from in front the fireplace, dropping her blankets to the floor “I’ll go up and check on her guys, no worries,” she said.
When she ascended the stairs, she knocked twice on the door, getting no reply from inside. After the third knock she twisted the door open, and heard the sounds of frantic scribbling. The room was empty, except for someone hidden behind the curtains of one of the beds.
“Ginny…?” she asked cautiously, stepping into the room.
The scribbling stopped when she peered through the curtains on the third bed. Inside what she saw shocked her. Ginny sat hunched over a small black book with a quill in hand, her appearance even more dishevelled than Harriet remembered.
She looked up at Harriet; her pale face contorted in anger and snarled at her, “What do you want?”
For a moment Harriet was taken aback by the hatred in Ginny’s bloodshot eyes, the redness almost masked by the lanky strands of hair falling into her face.
“Ginny are you okay? Everyone’s been worried about you,” she said, genuine concern on her face.
At that Ginny froze, and the expression slowly melted off her face. She stared at Harriet in a mystified sort of way, as if she was just seeing her, and then she began wailing, sending Harriet into a panic. Frantically she grabbed some blankets from a nearby bed and wrapped it around Ginny, who was sobbing and shaking endlessly, as though she had lost something precious to her.
After a few moments of non-stop tears, Harriet was considering taking Ginny to the hospital wing, when Hermione entered the room, rushing instantly to Ginny’s side when she heard her crying.
“Ginny? Ginny what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” she asked softly, gently rubbing circles on her back. But it was no use, Ginny cried until she fell asleep, leaving Harriet and Hermione troubled and confused.
“Do…do you think Ginny needs to go home?” whispered Hermione, her brows furrowed together in concern.
“I’m not sure Hermione…I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Harriet whispered back shakily.
The pair fell into a troubled silence which was broken first by Harriet.
“I…I think Slytherin’s monster might be hurting her Hermione… I think she might know something about the Chamber of Secrets,” Harriet said, her eyes locked onto Ginny’s resting form.
“What do you mean? You think she’s hearing the voice too?” Hermione asked, a bit harshly. At that Ginny stirred and Hermione winced in an apologetic manner. They quietly left her dorm and told Ron to pass on the message to her older brothers that Ginny wasn’t well and she was resting.
In their dorm, Harriet slumped on Hermione’s bed, her thoughts in shambles as Hermione pulled out her wand.
“Mufflatio,” she muttered, pointing her wand at Lavender and Parvati’s beds before pulling the curtains shut.
“I think Ginny has been hearing the voice too,” Harriet said wearily, when they were finally sure that no one could hear them, “The things it says would be enough to freak anyone out if you ask me.”
“I know you can hear it Harri, but I’ve told you before, hearing voices even in the wizarding world is rare…you can probably only hear things because…you’re a Parse—Oh my God! That’s it!” she shouted out, jumping up, startling Harriet.
“Wha- What do you mean Hermione?” Harriet asked, feeling a bit silly.
“Oh my God Harriet, I don’t know why I didn’t notice sooner but—hold on, one second—,” she said, standing and reaching up to the highest level of her bookshelf above her bed and pulling out an old, worn tome.
“After our conversations with Hagrid a few months ago, I was doing some light reading and looking up the properties of some of the magical creatures he mentioned, when I found this book in the library,” she said, flipping open the thick leather cover imprinted with the words—Eldritch Beastes of Wyrdshapers.
Harriet looked on curiously as Hermione flipped through the brittle pages, determination written on her face.
“This is it!” she suddenly exclaimed, thrusting the book into Harriet’s palm.
Harriet clumsily latched onto the heavy book and read, “The Basilisk… a wiht as olde as tyme—weaknesses be weasels, cry of roosters and its own reflection—Basilisks be fatal… once thou lookest into their eyes and art most perilious…” she trailed off.
“It’s a Basilisk Harriet! That’s why only you can hear it,” Hermione said, her eyes now wide and voice hushed.
“It guess… it kinda makes sense too, I reckon it would be Slytherin’s style to own a giant snake as a pet,” Harriet said weakly, sweat rolling down her brow.
“We…we need to tell someone, a teacher!” Hermione said shakily, taking a deep breath to steady herself, “If this creature really is a Basilisk, which I’m positive it is, this is no joke Harriet, we could all be in serious danger!”
Harriet chewed on her lips for a moment, suddenly unnerved. Hermione was right of course, it would make sense to report this as soon as possible, however she couldn’t help the niggling feeling at the back of her mind that she was missing something crucial here…
“We should go to Professor McGonagall now,” Hermione said determinedly, “Or Professor Dumbledore, the sooner we report it, the better.”
Harriet agreed, even though it was getting late, they were still within the hours of curfew so she decided to take the chance. Before they left, Hermione grabbed a compact mirror from Lavender’s desk and they left the common room, holding tightly to each other’s hands.
When they got to the stone griffin, Harriet muttered the password and she took the lead, running straight up the spiral staircase. At the top of the tower, the door swung open and before she could stop herself, she ran straight into someone solid. Her face smashed into their chest—hard— knocking the person a few steps backward and her to the floor. She thought she heard swearing as she fell like an idiot on her butt, feeling immensely foolish.
“Miss Potter,” Snape’s voice growled out, “What is the meaning of this?”
“Harriet are you okay?” Hermione asked her voice high and tense as she grabbed onto Harriet’s arm and pulled her up on her feet.
“I’m okay yeah— sorry sir, we were here to see Professor Dumbledore,” Harriet said rubbing her back and flinching slightly, “Is he around?”
Snape glared at the two of them while straightening his robes and scoffed, “The Headmaster has found himself disposed with urgent matters and has left the castle indefinitely. He has left me in charge in his stead.”
Harriet glanced at Hermione who winced slightly at his tone.
“Okay sir…I think we will just wait until Professor Dumbledore is back,” Harriet said, turning slightly before he stopped her in her tracks.
“Miss Potter, you will cease this foolishness this instant. Why are you here and what was so urgent that you had to come to the Headmaster mere minutes before curfew?” he asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “It had better be important.”
“Er…”
“Miss Potter,” he growled, “I do not have patience for these games.”
“I—Um, w-we found something about the chamber I think sir…” Hermione spoke up nervously.
He looked at them for a moment before saying harshly, “Well? Spit it out Ms Granger, what is it?”
Hermione looked on the verge of tears at his tone and she looked at Harriet imploringly.
“A Basilisk sir!” Harriet blurted out, “We figured out that Slytherin’s monster is a Basilisk.”
At that, his face dropped and Harriet could’ve sworn she saw a flash of anger in his eyes.
“…”
“…Miss Potter,” he finally growled, “Seeing as you understand the nature of this threat, it would do you well to avoid giving into your foolhardy, Gryffindorian urges to seek out this monster,” he warned.
Fear gripped her heart and she felt Hermione grab onto her hand tightly.
“The Headmaster and I have been aware of the Basilisk for some time now, but we specifically chose to not mention it to the students,” he continued, “Perhaps you can guess why?”
“…T-To not induce panic sir…?” Hermione asked meekly.
“Exactly Miss Granger, to not cause panic and have students in a disarray whilst we sort this issue out amicably,” he said coldly, “But seeing as you two have been using all this time to channel your inner Sherlock Holmes, I would assume you would’ve thought about this much at least.”
Harriet suddenly felt very foolish and small, standing there under his scrutinizing glare and receiving his harsh words.
“Ten points from Gryffindor each,” he hissed, anger returning to his voice, “For being out of your common rooms during curfew.”
“But sir, we came before curfew!” Harriet argued, her temper flaring.
“That may be so Miss Potter, but unfortunately for you, curfew has begun and yet here you are; not in your common room,” he said, face twisting cruelly as he glared at them.
Harriet couldn’t argue with that, and neither could Hermione. As she stood there watching her friend’s worried and anxious expression, she couldn’t help the vile thoughts running through her mind towards Professor Snape. Ron was right; he was a nasty, unfair git.
The sound of the fireplace flaring up, together with the green flickering light pulled her out of her angry musings and she turned to find that he stood in front the fireplace, holding a jar of floo powder.
“Use this and go to your common room now. And should I hear even the slightest report of any more sleuthing from either of you, believe me, I shall have you both out of here on the next available train!” he all but shouted at them.
Harriet numbly grabbed the powder and stepped into the fireplace, mumbling the words for the common room before she was engulfed in a storm of green flames which swirled around her until she stumbled out into the Gryffindor common room, her heart feeling heavy.
“That slimy bastard, he’s pure evil I’m telling ya,” Ron said glaring at the front of the hall after a particularly bad potions class which resulted in double detentions for him and Neville.
“Hush! What if he hears you?” Hermione asked, her voice filled with mortification as she glanced nervously at the teachers table.
“C’mon Mione, you know he can’t,” Ron said confidently, albeit with a nervous look.
But Harriet wasn’t quite sure of that. She subtly tried to glance at the front of the hall, only to find Professor Snape glaring in their direction, almost as if he could hear every word they were saying. When their eyes locked, her head snapped back to her friends and she made herself occupied with her drink. For a while now she had the gnawing suspicion that Professor Snape could maybe read minds.
It had been several days since their encounter with him in Dumbledore’s office and Harriet couldn’t seem to shake off his glares in her direction anytime he suspected that she was up to something. He’d taken to popping up in front of her at random times. In between classes, on the staircases and the library, to bark at her for wandering the halls; even though it was during the day and there were always other students around.
At this point she was seeing him more frequently than Lockhart, who curiously avoided approaching her when Snape was around. Less Lockhart and more Snape; she really wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
She shuddered at the thought and turned her attention back to Ron and Hermione who were still going over their encounter with him the other night.
“Anyone else would’ve rewarded you guys with points for figuring out what the monster was,” he said, lowly this time, “Brilliant work by the way Mione!” He grinned, clapping her on the back.
Hermione blushed but her face quickly became glum.
“Yes but now we still don’t know who the heir is and there’s no way we can look into it more without Professor Snape getting us… expelled,” she said defeatedly.
As the trio finished their meal in miserable silence, Harriet’s mind was whirring with a plethora of ideas. She needed to talk to Ginny she concluded. She wasn’t at dinner right now and she had not been around for some time, but something was definitely wrong with her and Harriet suspected that it had a lot to do with Slytherin’s monster.
“Guys, I’ll meet you in the library, I forgot my quill upstairs,” she said quickly making an excuse, dusting crumbs off her robes while she stood up.
Hermione’s brows furrowed, “Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you Harri?” she asked.
“Nah it’s okay, I’ll only be a minute,” said Harriet, “You can start Binn’s essay without me, I’ll catch up when I’m back,” she said as she walked away, smiling at herself when she heard Ron’s groan at her comment.
In the common room, Harriet looked around for Ginny but when she found the common room empty she decided to check the first year dorms. When she knocked on the door and got no answer, she decided to peep in and was met with an empty room. Glancing at Ginny’s bed, she noticed the black diary that she was writing in last time, staring innocently at her.
She let an impulsive thought cross her mind and decided to do what was best. Quietly striding across the dark room, she grabbed the book and flipped it open. To her surprise, it was empty. A strange feeling came over her and she felt dread pooling in her stomach as she stared at the blank pages. This wasn’t right.
Pulling out her wand and aiming at the book, she focused intently and whispered “revelio”, using a revealing spell that Hermione taught her over the holidays.
For a moment nothing happened, but then slowly the pages bled black, showing nothing but unintelligible shapes and blurred writing. She thought the spell was working, but then the ink drained and the pages became blank once more. In that moment, she felt the hairs behind her neck rise, and the atmosphere in the room changed. She felt like she was being watched.
Spinning around, she found herself face to face with Ginny, who had an unnatural smirk on her face.
“Ginny?” She asked slowly, dropping the diary and inching away from her as she felt her blood run cold. She didn’t hear the door open.
“You’re just as meddling as I’d hope you’d be Harriet,” said the girl, taking slow, predatory steps towards to her.
“…Who are you and what have you done with Ginny?” Harriet asked, pointing her wand at the person when she felt her back hit the wall.
The imposter threw their head back and laughed a joyful laugh, mirth filling their face.
“Little Ginny… is taking a nap right now. And she can only be saved if you do exactly as I say,” the person growled, pulling out Ginny’s wand. “And it would do you good to put that away, unless you want to hurt Ginny,” they said, gesturing at her wand.
Harriet, realizing that they were right, reluctantly lowered her wand before putting it away, and stared at the imposter.
“What do you want? Let her go!” She demanded, trying to hide her shaking hands.
At that, Ginny’s face split into a disturbing smile.
“I want you to follow me, we have much to discuss, Harriet Potter,” the imposter spat out.
Realizing that there was nothing else she could do, she hesitantly followed the imposter. Her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty and her fingers itched to hold her wand. They exited the common room and descended the Gryffindor tower, walking down stair after stair until they reached the first floor. It was then she realized that they were heading for the abandoned girls’ bathroom.
What made Harriet even more worried was the fact that they didn’t run into anyone along the way besides a distraught looking Lockhart who was hastily walking through the halls and frantically muttering to himself, stuffing crumpled, papers into his pockets. It disturbed Harriet that he didn’t even notice her, but she supposed it wouldn’t look strange for two students to be walking together. She almost had the urge to reach out to him as he passed by, but she knew he would be useless and thus kept on walking. The imposter had a satisfied smirk on their face the entire time.
Once they were inside the bathroom and standing in front of the sinks, she stared at them expectantly.
“Is this your big plan? What’s so important that we have to discuss it in a girls’ loo?” she asked, almost jokingly, putting on a brave face.
The imposter had an annoyed look on their face now, “Shut up girl. There is no need for me to explain anything to a fool who knows nothing,” they said.
They faced the mirrors and hissed, “Open.”
Harriet felt her blood run cold and the sinks began to shift and raise upwards, revealing a giant, dark hole in the floor.
“You’re the Heir of Slytherin,” she said, feeling her heart sink with despair when she realized they spoke in Parseltongue.
The imposter looked at her and sneered, “I’m surprised it took you this long to deduce that. Are you really the great hero everyone thinks you are?” they scoffed.
“You’re nothing more than a weak, idiotic, little girl,” they said, their tone increasing in harshness.
Harriet felt her ears sting and her heart speed up. She was angry, and she was ashamed at their words because deep down she felt like they were true.
At her silence the imposter scuffed, and pointed their wand at her.
“Jump,” they said.
She stared at them blankly. There was absolutely no way in hell she was going to do that willingly.
They raised a brow at her.
“Didn’t you hear me girl? I said to jump!” they said angrily and blasted her with a spell that hit her squarely in the chest and sent her flying straight down the giant pipe.
Her shoulders banged the walls on her way down and when she finally hit the ground, she landed in a disgraceful pile on the floor, her body aching. She dragged herself up somehow and did a once over to make sure no bones were broken, silently thanking the heavens when they were not. Somewhere unknown, she heard the sound of water slowly dripping.
At the sound of whooshing, she looked behind her to see the imposter dusting off their robes. They lit their wand and her eyes focused on the ceiling above her. She was in a dark, cavernous space, with stalactites hanging from the roof of the cave, jutting out at odd, sporadic angles. When she averted her eyes from the ceiling and focused on the view in front of her, she froze. Looking grey and dull in the dim lighting, she saw an uncountable length of dry snake skin imprinted with the shape of scales almost the size of her head, draped across the rocks and muddy floor. Was that the Basilisk’s skin? It was much larger than she’d even imagined and the thought of encountering the real thing almost sent her reeling.
As if sensing her discomfort, the imposter chuckled and lazily pointed their wand at her.
“Go on Harriet, we’re not there yet,” they said, gesturing forward, the shit eating smirk back on their face.
Harriet stumbled on ahead, guided by the meagre light, stopping only when she came face to face with an enormous wrought iron door, with silver snakes carved into it.
She faced the imposter who smiled a sickly sweet smile at her before hissing out another command in Parseltongue, unlocking the door in front of them. It swung open almost silently and she stepped over the threshold onto a stony bridge surrounded by water and lined with serpent statues. As she stepped forward, green torches lit the way to an empty space in front of a huge statue of a head, which she presumed to be that of Salazar Slytherin himself. There was a chill in the air which made her shiver and when she got to the centre of the room, she turned around and glared at her captor defiantly, the silence in the space unnerving. The only sound she could hear was her own heart beating rapidly as she tried to act bravely, determined to not show fear in front of the imposter.
“Welcome Harriet,” they drawled once they faced her, “To the Chamber of Secrets.”
Severus was dangerously close to cursing the man. His right hand was hidden within his robes and his fingers danced across his wand which thrummed in anticipation. It was just itching to be used. Lockhart spent the last thirty minutes prattling to Minerva and Sprout about how unfortunate it was that he was never around during the attacks. It had been about fifteen minutes since the girl disappeared from the great hall without her lackeys, and had Severus not been filling in for Dumbledore, he would’ve left the hall a long time ago. When he saw Granger and Weasley eventually leave, he secretly hoped that they would meet up with the girl rather than have her trapeze around the castle on her own. His mind raced with excuses he could use to leave the table as Lockhart drawled on and on about how Slytherin’s monster would be no match for him as he’d faced even more dangerous beasts in his life.
“Well then perhaps it would be best if we put you to the task of dealing with said monster,” huffed Filus, surprising Severus and pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Yes, I quite agree,” said Minerva chirped, clearly miffed at the man’s tact; or lack thereof, “Since you’ve all this, experience, Gilderoy, I’m sure such a task is surely child’s play to you.”
At that, Lockhart’s smile dropped, and he gave a nervous chuckle.
“Ah but unfortunately I won’t be able to…right? I was under the assumption that the Headmaster was working on it?” he asked, sweat beading across his forehead.
At that Severus couldn’t resist torturing the fool.
“As it would appear,” he finally said, “The Headmaster is still not back. And as I have been left in charge, I can, and have decided that perhaps you really are the right man for this job,” he said slowly and steadily, relishing the look of fear that crossed Lockhart’s face.
The blonde wizard paled and laughed nervously, “Why yes…of course, I am the right man a-after all!”
“But Gilderoy, where are you off too so quickly?” asked Sprout, feigning innocence as Lockhart quickly stood up grimacing.
“W-well, I must go to my office to prepare of course! One can’t simply charge at the enemy without being prepared can they?” he said, full on sweating now and wringing his hands.
Severus scoffed quietly and took a sip from his goblet while Minerva spoke up,
“Well then Gilderoy, we shall leave this issue in your hands, and I expect when the Headmaster returns later you shall be there to boast of your victory,” she said, a rare catty smirk crossing her face.
They watched Lockhart scurry off like a rat after that, panic written all over his face. Severus fell into a contemplative silence while Minerva and Sprout chattered quietly to each other, clearly discussing, or rather, insulting Lockhart. They all knew of course that he was all talk and that he would sooner evacuate the castle than face any monster head on.
Much less a Basilisk, Severus thought to himself. He really wished that Lockhart was actually brave enough to seek out the beast and try to fight it. It would have been a great pleasure if he were the one to discover the man’s cooling corpse. Relishing his dark thoughts, he emptied his goblet and quietly tuned in to the idle chatter of his co-workers. He never really participated in conversation unless he absolutely had to but he did listen to the gossip from time to time. After a while, once the last of the students and teachers left the hall, he finally stood and made his way to the entrance, stopping to stare up at the enchanted sky which was slowly turning dark, feeling decidedly amused by his musings of the idiot Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Just as he was about to exit the hall, he was stopped by none other than Granger and Weasley who shot through the entrance, both pale and out of breath as though they had been running non-stop.
“Professor, I-it’s Harriet—,” Granger panted when she finally spoke, her eyes wide with fear.
He froze.
“She—she’s missing! And Ginny is too, they’re not in the common room or anywhere else!” shouted Weasley, holding his side as he took deep breaths of air.
At those words he felt the spell lift itself.
“You two—Get back to your common room now!” he hissed, jumping into action. He pulled the mirror out of his pocket to summon the others.
“Minerva, two Gryffindors have gone missing, Harriet Potter and Ginerva Weasley,” he said sharply, “Secure the halls with the others, I shall locate them.”
“Sir, w-we’re coming with you,” said Granger shakily.
He looked at the two incredulously.
“Are you deaf or daft Miss Granger?” he asked dangerously, glaring at them.
“We don’t care, Harri’s our friend and she would still be here if we didn’t leave her alone,” Weasley spoke up, clutching his wand defiantly.
He was sure the look on his face right now would’ve sent anyone their age and younger into catatonic shock, so he was almost impressed by Weasley’s determination. Almost.
He really didn’t have time for this. Fuck these Gryffindors with their hard-headed, stubborn ways. They would never learn it seemed. Their hero complexes would be the death of them eventually.
It always ended that way.
“Fine,” he snarled at the duo, “But if you die, I won’t be the one writing to your families.”
“We know sir,” said Granger, who also had her wand out and clutched tightly.
He turned ahead and strode out of the hall, his ebony robes billowing out behind him. He heard their frantic footsteps as they followed him, trying hard to keep up with his long strides.
“Where are we going sir?” asked Weasley, who he ignored.
His mind was racing fast; a mile a minute, but he knew exactly where he was going. His thoughts fell on the bathroom near the corridor where the first attack on Ms Norris took place, and he remembered Dumbledore’s careful evasion whenever he brought up the topic of the abandoned, haunted girls’ bathroom on the first floor. Severus was no fool; he spent a decade deducing fact from fiction and even more time mastering the art of deflecting. He knew when someone was trying to conceal information. Remaining silent on the matter simply spoke numbers.
As they rounded the corridor and entered the bathroom, he heard Miss Granger gasp and Weasley utter something behind him. But his mind was too far to be concerned with them. In front of him in the floor was a deep, gaping hole, a giant pipe way as dark as night. Suddenly he felt weary as it all clicked into place. Dumbledore knew where the Chamber of Secrets was all along.
Severus felt a grudging sense of respect for the Headmaster then. No matter what, the man was somehow always one step ahead, and for that he had to give him kudos. But Dumbledore was not here right now was he?
So maybe this time Severus was the one who was a step ahead.
Without a backward glance; he drew his wand, casted lumos and plunged into the darkness.