Knockturn Alley was everything she’d ever heard it was. Dirty, creepy, smelly, and dark, shadows lurked everywhere, though it was the middle of the day. Harry walked calmly but purposefully down the alley, staying to the middle of the road where there was at least a semblance of afternoon light. She passed Borgin and Burke’s and turned left like Mr. Tate had told her, and…she blinked, for there was a rodent in the middle of the road, looking at her. Normally she would have given it nary a glance, but this one was, well, it was wearing a bird skull mask and a tiny purple cloak, held together by a safety pin.
Harry’s first thought was that it was a wizard’s familiar that got lost, her second wondering at the strange fashion sense of whoever chose the outfit. All thoughts fled for a moment when it spoke, however.
“Harriet Potter!”
“Long our search was, this is true!”
“But now complete, we pledge to you”
It sung the words.
“To see and hear and smell and taste”
“Each and every thing you’ve faced”
Harry opened her mouth to protest but was startled when a new voice took over from her left, where another rodent had appeared, this one dressed instead with tiny robe and wizard hat, both in black.
“For memories of new and old”
“Shall be our business but to hold”
At this point she was slightly less surprised to hear another voice from her right, this one mirroring the appearance of the rodent, she thought they might be rats, on the left.
“And while we still draw living breath”
“You will not feel the scythe of death”
All three of them sang in harmony now
“So what say you, our chosen witch”
“Will you give us stories, rich?”
Harry sputtered “Okay, wait, first of a–” but was cut off as the rats let out high pitched cheers
“The great one accepted!!” the one on the left cried, “We are saved” crowed the one on the right.”
“The deal is struck.” said the skull-masked one solemnly, as magic flashed purple and yellow in the air around them.
Harry’s eyes widened as she felt a tug on her magic “NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” Harry bolted for what she recognized as the Serpent’s Storeroom Apothecary, slammed the door and leaned against It, breathing as if she had just sprinted there all the way from Mr. Tate’s shop.
“Oi what’s all the ruckus” said a gruff voice from the counter, where she realized a thin man with blonde hair was giving her a disgruntled look. “And what’s a lad like you doing here”
“Did you see that? The rats? I–” Harry took a deep breath. “There were talking rats dressed in wizard clothes outside, do you know anything about them?”
“Talking rats?” the man scoffed, “A childish prank, I’m sure. Who are you and what do you want.”
Harry straightened, remembering why she was here. “I am a potions brewer,” she said.
—
She didn’t see the rats again when she went to the alleys that summer, nor anywhere else for that matter, though she could have sworn she felt little beady eyes watching her sometimes.
—
Rigel woke up much earlier than her roommates, intending to go start her exercise with a run before breakfast, but there was a problem. A big, terrible, horrible, secret threatening problem, and it was sitting on the top frame of her four poster bed, staring at her from within a bird skull mask.
Rigel’s veins seemed to turn to ice as she rasped out in a whisper “You!”
The blasted rodent tilted its head and made as if to back away from her line of sight and disappear, but she was quick to add “No! Stop! You come down here right now!” Amazingly, the rat obeyed, hopping down to the end of her bed, its gaze never leaving her. “What are you doing here? How are you here? I told you to leave me alone.” She glared at the cursed rat and with a start, remembered her roommates sleeping mere feet away. She listened for a moment to make sure they still seemed to be asleep, and cast a basic silencing charm around her bed. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do for now.
“Leave you alone we have, great mistress-” it began, but Rigel interrupted “Master, here it’s master. No, don’t call me master at all!” Rigel seriously considered attempting to…dispose of this creature, but there were at least two more, and what were the chances it didn’t bring its friends if it came this far already?
The rat paused for a second before continuing “...Of course great one. We have stayed hidden as you commanded, great one, not interacted at all, though it pained us.”
“I meant” Harry ground out “leave me alone completely, stay away from me, forget you ever saw me.”
The rat blinked at her, saying “...But great one, we have struck a deal. We cannot leave your side until all of us are dead, or you have passed of old age.”
“You…” Rigel started helplessly, and thought perhaps she should actually try to find something out about these rats, “Just who are you? Why do you wear that? How can you talk? What do I call you” She added the last part almost as an afterthought.
The rodent straightened up, standing on two legs, and started speaking in its melodic voice. “We are the rats of Aeslin, we watch, and we remember. We keep ancient history alive, and observe new history in the making. It is tradition for the liaison between great ones and us to wear a skull of a beast, and a cloak of purple. Though to our great sadness, we do not know who the first to do so was, nor why. The rest of us have taken to mimic you wizards to a higher degree. And you can call me…Liason, if you wish”
Rigel stared at the rat, Liaison, with incredulity
Eventually, they worked out a bargain, in exchange for cheese, cake, and a weekly meeting, as time permitted, where she told the rats anything interesting that happened, to be added to their stories, the rats of Aeslin would continue to keep out of sight, and keep her secrets, and occasionally pass along information to her of any interesting developments around the school. This deal too was anointed with a purple and yellow flash, along with another tug at her magic. She went on her run to think over everything that happened, and the new apparent friends she’d made.
—
Death… Rigel’s mind was telling her something about death. She knew she was going to die, though—didn’t need her mind to tell her that. As soon as Riddle’s construct possessed her, she was as good… as… oh. Yes, she thought, of course. Death is the only answer.
Her vision was turning black at the edges, but she mustered the strength to lift her left hand and reach toward the basilisk’s gaping jaws. The distance was small, but it felt like ages before her hand slipped past its lipless mouth and felt around its gums gingerly. It was probably only a few seconds later when she grasped a fang at last.
“Just give up, boy,” Riddle’s construct laughed, its voice filling the air around her, “Even if you pry it loose, you can’t stab me with it. I have no form.”
Rigel braced her palm against the edge of the fang, and pulled her hand back sharply with all her strength. The fang sliced open her skin, and blood began welling from her palm immediately.
“What are you doing?” the voice screeched suddenly, “No. NO!”
Rigel smiled weakly. “Good luck… possessing… me now,” she said softly. Her hand began to shake as the poison coursed through her.
“This isn’t over,” the construct’s voice hissed directly into her ear, but a moment later it was gone.
She lay there, thinking about all the things she hadn’t yet done, with poisoned blood seeping out of her veins. Help would not come in time, she knew. Even if someone was speeding with everything they had towards her, the chamber was simply too far away to get to before the legendary basilisk venom killed her.
…And yet, she continued to lay there, a minute, two. Her blood still seeping slowly, but her vision did not go dark, her mind did not go blank. And then she heard it, the whisper of song from somewhere she couldn’t pinpoint, “And while we still draw living breath, you will not feel the scythe of death.” Petering out at the end to the faintest breath.
And then she heard running, help had arrived, she did not die. But if she were to come back to look carefully at rubble and old bones, she would see over a dozen new rat bodies, all but one dressed in tiny wizard robes and hats.