Snake Eyes
Alex awoke in his bed the following morning with little recollection to what happened after the interrogation with Dumbledore, but he knew that he had to tell Amarra. He hurriedly got dressed and rushed out the common room. He found his sister in the Great Hall, and sat beside her before she could even say hello to him.
“They think I opened the Chamber of Secrets,” he whispered.
Amarra’s hand stopped mid-air, the spoon full of porridge sloped over the edges and fell back into the bowl. “I kinda figured they would after I left with Granger and them. They wouldn’t shut up it—they’re not very good at whispering, y’know.”
Alex thought back to all the times the trio of lions had conversed around him. If they thought their whispers were quiet, they had never heard the voices who spoke to him. “But Dumbledore knows something about this message, it’s almost like he’s seen this happen before.”
While he spoke to his sister, bit and pieces of the conversation after he had been interrogated came back to him. “Salazar said that the Chamber is supposed to be a safe haven for the Slytherin heirs, but I’m afraid that it’s only been used for malicious reasons.”
She leaned across the table, and in a hushed tone, Amarra spoke, “Like the Former? What did he want with it?”
Alex recounted the history of Hogwarts to her, and the theory that Salazar had created a secret place in the subterranean levels of the castle, but no one knew where it was. “People believed that Salazar had a number of hidden rooms around the castle that he hid from the other founders, but I’m sure the others had their own secretive places.”
“Not as many as he did. What did he have to hide though? Everyone knew him to be a blood-elitist, so of course he would have secrets. Rowena talks a lot about a hidden passageway in the common room, but I haven’t had the time to explore it. I’m sure whatever the Former did during his time at Hogwarts is in a book somewhere,” she said. Amarra had a knack to offer ideas that both she and Alex would often indulge, and while she ate, Alex thought about the boyish ghost.
“Last night when I fell to the ground, I saw another ghost. Except this one didn’t look like the seaweed-ridden boy, but someone more familiar,” he spoke absentmindedly. “I saw him again in Dumbledore’s office, he helped me calm down.”
“Maybe he’s a former heir. I bet if you question him more, he might have more answers about this new ordeal. Or he might send you on a wild goose chase, you never know.” Alex watched her butter a piece of toast, and then eat it. “Or he might kill you in your sleep.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re funny, you know that?”
She beamed at him. Her long hair slid to one side, and he watched it fall to the right of her head. In-between chews, she spoke again, “have you started McGonagall’s essay?”
Although she had changed the subject, Alex thought back to what had been said the previously. He shook his head, and Amarra huffed.
“Too bad, it’s a doozy.”
He took a piece of toast in his hands, and quickly slathered it with jam before he stood. “You’ve reminded me, and I’m going to go do that homework now.”
He knew she had caught him in a lie, but she let him go and he rushed out the Great Hall. He took a sharp left and ran for the stairs, and reached McGonagall’s office in no time. With a pant and a huff, he gently rapped the door. At her admittance, he entered the tight-knit space, and smiled at her.
She put her quill down the second she saw him, and her eyes watched him move towards her desk behind the square-shaped spectacles. “Yes, Mr. Snape?”
“This isn’t a confession, but may I ask what you know about the Chamber of Secrets?”
She pulled her spectacles from her face, and set them against the grained desk. “You could ask Professor Binns this same question, he would know more about this subject, Alexander.”
“Yes, but his lecture would be far too boring and I don’t feel like sleeping right now, professor.”
She sighed, and motioned to the chair across from her. “I’m sure Salazar has told you at least a little about his hidden compartments—he does have many.”
On the walk over, Alex had thought hard about what could’ve been said to him by Salazar, but he wanted to play this as coyly as possible. “If it’s a hidden sanction created by Salazar, he has yet to inform me of its whereabouts, nor if there are others like it. From the message, however, I can only assume that the Chamber had been opened a few years back, but I don’t know when.”
Her eyes squinted into a cat-like fixture—if she wanted to read him, but she wouldn’t find a lie. She tapped her fingers against the desk, and then stood. “How odd. I would think that Salazar would’ve told you sooner. Alas, the message had one thing correct: the chamber had been opened fifty years ago.”
She tapped her wand against a peculiar jar, and newt-shaped biscuits flew to her desk. “You might be able to find a copy of Hogwarts: A History in the library before its removal, but I must say if you want more information on your predecessor, the trophy room might have his name among the pennants.”
The biscuits floated to Alex’s hands, and he took them before he smiled. “I will get right on that, professor.”
“And my essay?” She returned to the desk, and watched him with careful eyes. “I’ve been informed that many of my second-years have yet to start it. Might you be among them, Mr. Snape?”
Alex stopped before he could turn away from her. He gave a brief smile before he took a bite from the biscuit. He nodded—she could catch him in this lie— and said, “I will also get right on that, ma’am. I quite value my grades, professor.”
She nodded in acknowledgement, and returned to her papers. Alex hurried from the office, and rushed to the library before the rush of hungry students could make haste for breakfast. He searched through the rows and sections of the library until he found the book he was in search for. He found other books that spoke about the Chamber, and he checked them out before the librarian could tell him otherwise.
With a pile of books in his arms, he walked carefully to the second floor. However, before he could come to the doors of the trophy room, he heard the faint whispers of the hisses return. He closed his eyes and counted back from ten, but the voices only grew louder.
He had walked past the girls’ lavatory only moments before, and yet no whispers entered the confines of his head until he came to the wall with the written statement. He stared at the blood stained walls, the message still clear after an extensive scrub.
If the Former had something to do with this, then not only would Muggle-borns be at risk, but blood traitors, Alex thought. That would include Amarra and I, or the Weasleys, and even Potter. We’d all be at risk.
“Or it would mean that any persons that didn’t agree with you,” Salazar said. The ghost stood beside the boy, his own dead eyes stared at the message. “Tom strictly believed in the same ideology that I had enforced, and he was prideful in relieving the same message to his followers.”
Alex’s shoulders fell into a relaxed state, and he looked to the man. “That other ghost, the tall and handsome young man, that’s him isn’t it?”
Salazar’s eyebrow rose, and his lips became a thin line. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
Alex walked away from the wall, the message became faded the further he walked from it. His books jumps slightly in his arms with every step until he came to the door of the trophy room. It was a dusty room filled with various plaques and oxidized gold trophies—each one held a name of students long gone— and Alex stopped in front of one.
“June 1943, T.M. Riddle— awarded for the capture of the Heir of Slytherin. Did he lie and say that someone else was the heir, when it was really him?”
Salazar’s head bobbed up and down. “He turned in another student for another crime, and after that the school was free of the monster. But it wasn’t quite the monster who had killed that Ravenclaw girl, was it?”
Ravenclaw… there are hundreds of ghost here that could’ve been in Ravenclaw, Alex thought. Then it hit him, and his face lit up. “Myrtle!”
His feet turned before his brain could tell the rest of him to halt. The second he entered the hallway, however, the message had been delivered across his body. “I can’t go in there,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Every time I walk past the lavatory, I hear them. There’s so many voices that come from just that little room, and they overcrowd my head until I can no longer think… but I need to talk to Myrtle.”
Salazar glided to a halt in front of him, and a smile had creased his lips. “I can spare you the trouble. She doesn’t remember what happened when she died, but if you’re desperate you can ask her when you’re no longer scared of the lavatory.”
Alex watched him disappear behind the walls, and his face contorted into an unmasked looked. “Yeah, so very funny.”
——
November had been an interesting month. A quidditch game between Gyffindor and Slytherin kicked-off the season—Potter lost all the bones in his arm after Lockhart attempted to fix his broken arm. Another victim had been petrified—Potter’s biggest fan, Colin Creevey, had been attacked. Students began to walk in packs, and Alex began to notice that the Weasley girl was in the same state as he— ghastly pale, gaunt eyes, and a fear of being outed.
Alex had caught wind from Baron that the lion trio had been using the Myrtle’s lavatory as a means to brew Polyjuice, and while the bloody ghost thought the boy should intervene, Alex remained on the sidelines. He wanted to wait for the opportune moment, and finally in December it came.
During Potions one Thursday, the swelling solution Goyle was supposedly brewing blew up in his face, and while students screamed as yellow goo clung to their face, Alex watched a bushy-haired Granger disappear into his father’s office. In her hurry to get out, however, she dropped a canister of boomslang skin. Alex caught it before it rolled into view of Snape’s frustrated eyes, and slipped it into his pocket.
Once class ended, he disappeared into the common room to retrieve his potions bag, and then followed Granger to the Myrtle’s lavatory.
“I could’ve sworn I picked it up, Harry!” He heard her voice through the door. “It must’ve slipped during the escape—oh I’m sorry, Harry.”
Alex slipped inside the wet-tiled lavatory, and watched them panic at the sheer sight of him. “Looking for something?”
The two boys raised their wands while Granger’s eyes lit upon the sight of the canister. “What do you want, Snape!”
Alex held the bottle between his thumb and pointer finger, a smile rested on his lips. Potter and Weasley jabbed their wands in Alex’s direction, but the boy walked closer to the foul-stench potion that bubbled in their cauldron. “Polyjuice is a hard potion to brew for beginners, I can save you the trouble.”
He slipped his hand in his pocket, and while Potter’s wand followed Alex’s movement, he pulled out a vial and offered it to them. “For the amazing price of tell-me-what-you-know, I’ll give you this finely brewed Polyjuice potion.”
The trio of lions looked between one another, and Alex’s smile grew larger. “I’ll even offer you some insider information, what do you say?”
“We can’t tell you anything! You’re just another Slytherin, you’ll tell your housemates what you know!” Weasley argued.
Alex scoffed, and then laughed dryly. “Do I look like I’m on good terms with my housemates, Weasley? Malfoy started a rumor about me, and I called Lockhart a daft git, so do I look like I’m on good terms with anyone?”
A voice entered his head, and for the first time since he had entered the space, did he realize that there were no hisses or screams. Our Sire wishes to have an audience with you, meet him in the common room.
“I don’t have all day, lions,” Alex heard himself say.
Neither Potter nor Weasley moved their wands away, and Alex watched them carefully. He was vulnerable—his wand in his pocket and he would lose both vials if they attacked him.
Then, Granger stepped out from behind them and motioned Alex to follow her. Despite the pleas from her friends, she and Alex stepped out into the hall. “We don’t know much, but I’ll say what I know”
Alex handed her the vial of boomslang skin. He fully trusted her. After the previous year, he had this weird feeling about her. She could be a good friend, an ally. Perhaps she should know, he told himself.
“According to Professor Binns, there have been many searches over the last thousand years and no one has found the Chamber. But people do know that there is a monster within, and that is what is petrifying student.” She stopped when she saw the disappointed look on his face. “You know more than we do, don’t you?”
Alex could feel his heart beat fast as if he had been caught in a lie. “Before you lot showed up, I saw someone running way from the scene that night. Now, I’ve gone through every written article about the Chamber, and figured out that there was a student who had been killed by the monster fifty years ago. However, another student had been arrested and then the killings stopped. The student who caught the other student was award a trophy for their service, but then things cease.”
“Who was killed?” Granger’s brown eyes watched him carefully, and for a second Alex studied her eyes. They had grown wide with anticipation but also wonder.
“You know her. She died in that bathroom.” He nodded toward the lavatory door. “Except she doesn’t remember what happened just before her death. The trail goes rather cold.”
She laughed, and for the first time, Alex enjoyed her laughter. “I love gallows humor,” she said.
His smile grew, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. After a few seconds of his own thoughts, he spoke again. “I know it’ll be hard to get you away from them, but do you think we could meet at our spot one day soon. There’s more I would like to say.”
She had taken a few seconds herself to think his proposal through, and then she nodded. “Some time during the holidays?”
“I would love that. Oh, uhm, Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle will be staying for the break—try not to get animal hair, it’s a rather difficult process to undo.” He held up the vial of Polyjuice, but she shook her head.
For a moment she lingered, and then she disappeared back inside. Alex held a soft smile to his lips before he heard the snake-like voice once more. Before it could get another word out, he shushed it and started to walk towards the common room.
The common room was vastly empty when he arrived, and he saw the haunted eyes of Salazar’s portrait watch him as he grew closer. The bookshelf to his left was full of dusted, old books but one caught his eye. In golden letters, he read the title of Shakespeare’s infamous play Macbeth and he reached out to grab it.
For a second Alex thought he had heard a click, and when he looked back at the portrait, the wall below had disappeared. He put the book back in its original place, and walked through the once walled-barrier. He turned to watch the wall float back into place, and in the darkness he felt the walls for any lanterns.
Before the voice returned, Alex figured out what he had to do. It had been years since he last attempted the harsh language, and through his lips his voice called out to the darkness in a series of hisses and foul constants. The lanterns lit as his voice echoed around him, and he followed the newly torched corridor until he came to the vast cylindrical room with the forest green tiles and snake-headed tunnels.
The beast still slept in the mouth of Salazar’s statue, and a fire roared to keep the beast in its place. Alex walked the wet floor, and peered into each of the six tunnels. Above each of the black marbled snake tunnels, a large letter had been carved into silver orifices. H, G, R, and S were the first four, and Alex deduced these as tunnels to each of the common rooms. The fifth one held an HM, and the sixth one held no distinctive marks.
“Hogsmeade,” Salazar’s voice came through the vast room, and Alex turned to greet his mentor. “The fifth goes out to Hogsmeade, and the sixth will take you to any part of the castle—which you will exit through portraits or secret walls. Each of the houses’ tunnels will also lead to the offices of their corresponding head professors.”
Alex turned on his heels to look around the space once more, but when his eyes landed on the beast behind the fire, he felt Salazar’s hand on his shoulder. “Not yet, but soon you will know what is behind wall number two.”
Alex wanted to linger in the Chamber longer, but he had heard the thought ring of the bell in the distant and Salazar began to tug at his hand. “Is this available to me whenever?”
Salazar nodded, and they stopped outside the wall that lead back to the common room. “If the lavatory is occupied, I assume it will be for the rest of term, the bookcase will safely guide you here. Use my portrait when you want to leave.”
Alex tapped the wall with his finger and watched it disintegrated at his touch. He stepped through into the empty common room, and the wall reappeared to its original position. He smiled before he left the common area, and caught up with his housemates for dinner. However, he had expected it to be a quiet supper until he heard the news that Lockhart had organized a dueling club and the second-years would get their first chance to duel the following night.
While his housemates were excited, Alex felt the sudden rush of adrenaline and anxiety. The last time he dueled, he had been kicked from his house and ultimately rejected by his peers. He felt something hit his face, and he turned to see Malfoy ready another spoonful of bread at his face. Alex dodged and it flew past him, but he heard Malfoy’s laughter alongside others of his house.
“I hope I get paired with you tomorrow, Snape! I get to finally humiliate you in front of the whole school.”
Come the following evening, Alex had dodged his fellow second-year housemates as much as he could, because Malfoy had boasted about being the one to take down Alex. When they came to the Great Hall, it was empty except for a large purple-robed stage in the middle. Students stood on either side, while both Lockhart and Snape stood on opposite sides of the stage.
“Settle down, settle down!” Lockhart flashed his annoyingly-bright white teeth, and Alex rolled his eyes when he saw many of the girls nearly swoon at the sight of dumbed oaf. His sister included. “I have been granted this club by Dumbledore himself, and I’ve the perfect assistant to help me. Please welcome Professor Snape!”
Alex stifled a laugh at the sight of his father lip-curled, disgusted face. Snape had shed the long black robes, and stood in a dueler’s garb, but of course in black. The two men bowed to one another—a little demonstration— before they raised their wands. “The goal of this session is to disarm your opponent!”
Before Lockhart could utter a single spell to fire at Snape, the greasy black-haired professor yelled the disarming spell, “Expelliarmus!” The Goldie-locked professor flew backwards, and collided with the stage. Alex scoffed, and then smiled.
Lockhart stood, and brushed himself off. He offered Snape a smile—an embarrassed and harassed look— before he divided the students into pairs. When everyone had been paired off, he turned to Alex who had been left partnerless. “Well, Mr. Snape, why don’t I teach you a few things. I’m quite good.”
Alex felt his father’s hand on his shoulder, and the black-haired professor blocked the boy’s view of the vainglorious professor. “Knock him dead for me, yes?”
The boy smiled, and stepped onto the platform. Lockhart promised to go easy. Alex had promised he was just a second-year. Although they had been stopped before they even started by many fights, and Weasley’s malfunctioning wand, Lockhart still promised to duel Alex.
“Honestly, Lockhart, I would think you would’ve taught your students the spell before you expect them to do it effortlessly.” Snape moved across the room and watched each of the partners attempt to duel, but Alex wanted to get this over with quick.
“Right, well. Mr. Snape, shall I demonstrate to you?”
Alex motioned him to go ahead, and while Lockhart fired the disarming spell, the boy simply blocked it. Lockhart looked stunned at Alex’s ability to block, and fired some spells that the boy merely dodged. Students stopped their own duels to watch this one, and they crowded around the stage once more. The more Lockhart backed away, the more the stage grew in length to Alex’s advantage, it was all he needed for one clean shot.
“Bombarda!” Alex roared, and the professor flew from the stage and slammed against the wall. The girls ran to Lockhart’s side, and Alex looked rather proud of himself. Lockhart’s hair was no longer the perfectly combed, styled, and flat, but now a mess of fluff and pointedness.
“I, uh, thank you, Mr. Snape. You may go…uhm… I think we may have time for one more, don’t you think, Professor Snape?”
Alex caught his father’s faint approval smile, and watched him move swiftly to the stage. “Might I propose Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Snape, or perhaps Malfoy and Potter?” Snape asked.
Lockhart chose the latter, and while Malfoy summoned a snake (and Lockhart aggravated the creature), Alex felt a strange wave of anticipation run over him. He looked to his father all too late when Potter started to speak in hisses and whispers to the snake, and moved it away from Finch-Fletchley.
Another contender, how ominous. Alex strained his neck at the whispers in his own head, and he could feel the sweat become beaded around his forehead. If Potter was a Parseltongue, and Alex thought it to be impossible, then there was some foul work afoot.
While Snape disposed of the snake, Alex could feel his father’s eyes on him but the other students had their eyes on Potter. After Lockhart had cleared the Great Hall and sent the students to bed, Snape dragged his son to his office.
“You promise me, Alexander, that you will not get involved in this business. Anything that Potter does will be watched, and if students begin to believe that he is the heir, your back will be saved. But if you get involved with him or the other two, and people start to believe that you’re also involved, I’m afraid there’s not much help that can be given. Do you understand me?”
Alex had thought about his father’s words all night. In fact, that entire weekend, Alex spent his time thinking back to all that he knew about the Chamber and the Former—Tom Riddle. During the chess matches he did with Blaise, in between moves, Alex thought about what he knew. It wasn’t until the third game that he lost did Blaise ask what was wrong.
“You typically win against me. So enlighten me, snake boy. What’s the matter?” Blaise always had a permeant look of worry on his face when he sat by Alex, and Alex was grateful that someone cared enough.
“Just thinking about their Heir of Slytherin ordeal. Wanna play again?”
Alex moved to set up the pieces again, but Blaise reached out. “Talk to me about it. I hear enough about it from Malfoy, but he has a certain way of telling people things that it sounds like I’m listening to his father.”
Alex laughed. “Fine, fine, but I don’t know what I’m exactly allowed to tell you.” He had learned to gain Blaise’s trust in them becoming friends, but Alex still wasn’t sure what he could say without being seen as a liar again. “I don’t want you to blow me off because I lied again.”
Blaise shrugged. He turned to watch the fire crackle in the hearth, and Alex studied his face before the boy turned back. “I’ve grown up with a lot of these people. I’ve known Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Nott, Greengrass, and so many others for years, and I knew they would get into Slytherin cause it’s in their nature. But you—I don’t know anything about you.
“You slink away before anyone gets the chance to talk to you, and they bully you for it. But you seemingly know more about us than we ever will know about you. So, enlighten me, Alexander, what’s on your mind?”
Alex inhaled deeply, before he spoke. “I’m a history lover, Blaise. I’ve studied and studied these books about Hogwarts, the Wizarding World, and the purebloods who believe they run it all. I can recite lineages of extinct families, and know all of their secrets like they were my own. From that alone, I know that neither Malfoy nor Potter are related to Salazar Slytherin, but one thinks himself to be and the other believes what others believe.”
Blaise listened. He didn’t speak, he just listened. Alex had learned to be quiet and let Amarra speak—it was his father’s and mother’s natures respectively— and for the first time, he enjoyed this side of the spectrum.
“Malfoy has been telling this story to anyone who will listen, because his father told him that the Heir of Slytherin is still in Azkaban, but that’s not entirely true. Fifty years ago, the Chamber had been opened by the Heir, but when a student had been arrested, the killings stopped. But the student who had been awarded for capturing the ‘Heir’ was the true heir, and he only proved himself to be a likable person.”
“And who would that be?”
Alex inhaled again, and knew he would bring back something they had both talked about the previous year. In a whisper, he said the name. “The Dark Lord.”
Blaise didn’t look upset. Nor did he look agitated that Alex would make such an accusation, instead he urged him to continue. But Alex couldn’t. He heard the hisses and screeches again, and he stood so abruptly, Blaise looked concerned.
“What?”
Alex shook his head, but it only got louder. He covered his ears and tried to count backwards, but the sound only grew more irritated. He looked toward the ceiling, and watched Baron float—at a rapid pace— out of the common room. Alex bolted after him.
He rushed up the stairs, and pushed students out of his way. Blaise was close behind his heels, he could hear him yelling. Baron glided to the third floor, and Alex took the stairs two at a time before he found the corridor the ghost had disappeared down.
When he turned the corner, he found two bodies. Justin Finch-Fletchley—a Hufflepuff— and the Nearly Headless Nick, which Baron stood over. But something else caught the boy’s eye— large and horned— and with his wand in his hand, he charged after it.
“Alex, wait!” Both Blaise and Baron called his name, but he couldn’t hear either of them behind him. He found the boys’ lavatory wide open, and when he stepped inside, the door slammed behind him.
Below him, sat a soggy piece of parchment. He reached for it, and read it aloud. “You’ve yet to find me, boy. Try again.” He straightened, but when he turned around, he found a pair of silky yellow eyes and a large, shadowy body that peered down at him. In the reflection, he saw himself divided by slits, and he knew he had finally met the beast.