Over the next few days of the week, Harry used the alternate instructions he had found in the potions book written by someone who, as he later found out, went by the moniker, "the Half-Blood Prince" in every one of his Potions classes. This had the effect of improving his Potions skills to such a level that Slughorn was shortly raving about his skills, going so far as to say that he hadn't ever taught anyone as talented as Harry. Of course, this also resulted in Hermione getting increasingly irritable at him to the point of giving him filthy looks every time they were required to brew a potion irritated that Harry would use what she called "cheap shortcuts". Harry privately thought that she was really irritated with the fact that she hadn't thought of the same innovative methods as the Prince.
Ron was not that much better. Only he wanted a part of the glory. At first Harry had agreed and would keep the book between them so that the red head could read the instructions as well. However this soon proved to be impossible. Ron, for some reason had a hard time deciphering the cramped handwriting of the Half-Blood Prince than Harry. And it was useless trying to whisper the instructions to him as not only did they have bubbling cauldrons to contend with but also the small hisses of disapproval that kept coming from Hermione's mouth which, as she wanted to avoid being caught by Slughorn, became progressively lower in pitch and more drawn out to the point that, by the end of the second lesson, she was beginning to sound like a particularly dim snake.
Nevertheless, that meant that Ron wasn't able to understand what Harry was saying. He couldn't ask Harry to repeat what he was saying without it sounding suspicious. So in the end, Ron was also displeased with the situation. Though most of his displeasure was directed at Hermione after Harry pointed out that the noises she was making was the main reason for him not getting the instructions right. Not that Hermione cared. She insisted that Ron follow the "official instructions" like everyone else.
Harry had also met Susan and Hannah along with Neville about the morning exercises. Initially he was wary about including the girls in, especially after Hannah's initial declaration that she wasn't into all that. But in the end he needn't have worried. Susan especially was helpful as she had promised to get equipment that Aurors used to train with, thus negating the need for a trip into Muggle London. All they had to do was give their measurements. And Hannah had apparently changed her mind. Though when asked why, she would just blush and change the subject.
The promised equipment came as a package through owl post in two days. Harry and the other three had snuck off to open it after class. Upon opening the package, Harry found, among the usual pairs of running trousers and t-shirts, four pairs of unusual looking shoes. 'What are these?' he asked Susan while examining a pair his size. It looked more like a slipper but where the end would be rounded off as with most footwear, these had five toes jutting out, looking very much like gloves for feet.
'These are the latest in running equipment,' said Susan reading from a note from her aunt that was included with the package. 'They are supposed to fit the foot exactly and give the feeling of running barefoot. Auntie says that they are planning on incorporating these with the standard Auror training material ... and we're the guinea pigs.'
Neville held his pair up in front of him. 'They look weird,' he said flatly.
'I was going for "ugly" actually,' said Hannah.
'They are pretty comfortable though,' said Harry as he put on his pair. He wiggled his toes, the shoes fit like a glove. Walking around, he sighed blissfully; he never felt so free before!
'They still look weird,' said Hannah.
'So?' said Harry. 'It's not like you're going to be wearing them every day! Though I am tempted...' he looked at the shoes thoughtfully, 'I suppose a Glamour charm won't work?' he asked Susan.
'I don't think so,' said Susan. 'The shoes already have a bevy of comfort and durability charms in them. Adding more magic may blow the shoes up.'
'Oh well,' shrugged Harry, 'At least I have a good pair of running shoes.'
And so by Saturday, Harry had the company of two Hufflepuffs and Neville. While the other three still were behind as far as fitness was concerned, they did show eagerness in building themselves up. Harry made it a point to moderate his pace so that he was running behind the rest. He did it to ensure that they were running properly and at the right pace, not so that he could look at the girls' shapely behinds. At least that is what he kept telling himself as his eyes kept wandering down that area.
His breakfast finished, Harry bade his new friends' goodbye and went up to the Ancient Runes class. Professor Babbling had set up these Saturday classes along with Professor Vector for students that had some difficulty in the normal class the previous year. This meant that the classroom was full of fourth- and fifth-years.
'Ah Mr. Potter,' said Professor Babbling. 'You turned up, that's good. Initially there were two others in your year that were going to join you, but they changed their minds at the last minute. I was expecting the same of you, to be honest. But now that you've come...' she trailed off a bit as she searched for someone, 'I'll leave you in the capable hands of Ms. Greengrass over there.' she grabbed the attention of a fourth-year girl who was talking to the group her peers and called her over. 'She is one of the best in my fourth-year class and had volunteered to help out in my remedial classes. But since you are the only sixth-year here, I think it would be better if she tutored you and the other fourth years in the basics while I take care of that group of fifth years. They have their O.W.L.s coming up and they are behind as it is!'
Quickly introducing the two to each other, she hurried off to the group of fifth-years.
'So, Daphne has a younger sister,' said Harry after a minute of silence. To this the younger girl just gave him a toxic sarcastic look that clearly conveyed her opinion of his brilliance. He was validated when the younger girl opened her mouth.
'Brilliant deduction there, Potter! Did you figure that out on your own? I wonder what gave me away.' Astoria Greengrass said with sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
Not to be outdone, Harry replied brightly, 'It was the looks for me!' In a mock serious tone he added, 'The last name was another hint that you might be related to Daphne.'
Astoria just rolled her eyes at that and moved towards the group of fourth-years, muttering to herself. Harry could make out the words 'my sister' and 'doomed' among the other incomprehensible words.
Thanks to the crash course he had from Bill and Fleur over the summer along with his self study, Harry found that he was quite far ahead in the third-year syllabus. Astoria was pretty impressed with his knowledge, and, though she did not show it, slightly jealous of Harry from having had personal tutoring from a Gringotts Curse Breaker.
They eventually decided to pair up divide the load of teaching the other fourth-years who had barely managed to pass the third year exam, which was how Professor Babbling found them when she came over to their group.
The Professor was pretty impressed with Harry's knowledge of the subject so far. After some thinking it was decided that from the next class, Astoria would be teaching Harry the remainder of the third-year course while she would bring over another one of her bright students to help the fourth-years out. By the end of the term, depending on where Harry was, Professor Babbling would make the appropriate decision. Astoria however didn't seem too pleased by the whole thing.
As class ended, Astoria gave Harry a big smile, 'well, Runes is over for the day Potter, we won't be seeing each other for a week at the least!' her smile slowly slipped away as Harry continued to sit there in place as the Arithmancy class entered. 'You're here for Arithmancy too aren't you?' she said resignedly.
'Brilliant deduction there, Greengrass! Did you figure that out on your own? I wonder what gave it away.' Harry parroted her words from earlier with a cheeky grin earning him a venomous look from the younger girl.
Much to her relief, Astoria didn't need to tutor Harry that day as because Professor Vector had given Harry a test to gauge his competence with numbers. Harry found most of the questions to be easy partly due to them being simple mathematical problems he had learnt in primary school and partly due to the summer he had spent studying the subject.
Professor Vector was pretty impressed with Harry's current grasp of the subject and had him help out the fourth-years along with Astoria who would be tutoring him in the next class just like she was doing in Ancient Runes.
Harry spent the afternoon socialising with his year mates. He even went out flying for awhile with some of them, playing a friendly match of Quidditch. Fresh from the game, with a rosy glow on his cheeks from the wind he found Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room working. Going up to the dorm, he changed out of his sweaty clothes and picking up his bag went back down to join them.
'Hey,' he said easily as he carelessly threw himself on a chair next to them. Looking at the essay in front of his friends, he noted that they were working on the homework McGonagall had set for them. Having already finished his essay, Harry sat back and on a whim opened up his old copy of the Potions book.
Hermione only sniffed at the sight of the book in Harry's hand before twitching her essay up and away from Ron's prying eyes.
'Don't you have your homework to do Harry?' said Hermione after a few minutes of silence which she spent alternatively looking at him and on her essay.
'I've already finished all my homework,' said Harry easily. Inwardly he tensed up expecting another verbal battle with her.
Just as he suspected, Hermione said in response, 'Really? May I have a look at it then?' he thought he detected a note of challenge in that question. As if she didn't believe he had done his work.
'Hermione!' said Harry in apparent shock, 'I cannot believe that you would want to copy from my assignment! That is cheating that is! Who'd have thought that Hermione Granger would want to copy from me?' he directed the last question to Ron who by then had given up figuring what to write next in his essay and was watching the conversation between Harry and Hermione in amusement.
'I don't want to copy from you, you prat!' said Hermione in irritation over Ron and Harry's chuckling. 'I wanted to look through your essay because I am sure that there will be mistakes in it. That is, if you have completed it,' the scepticism in her voice was more than apparent.
Harry only gave her a wide smile at that. 'Yes, I have completed it and no, you don't need to see it because there are no mistakes in it. I checked the essay myself.'
'If you're sure,' said Hermione unconvinced.
Harry narrowed his eyes at her at this. There was something in her tone that he didn't like. He really hoped she didn't do something stupid like remove his homework from his bag. After awhile, he looked at his watch and got up hurriedly saying, 'I'd better go, I've got to meet Dumbledore soon and I'm going to be late if I don't hurry.' With that, he hurried up the stairs barely listening to Hermione's excited gasps. He put his bag in his trunk, double checked his locks and wards like usual and hurried out the common room, waving to his friends.
Reaching the gargoyle he said the password and rode up the moving spiral staircase after the gargoyle jumped aside. He was barely able to restrain his excitement at what he was about to learn from Dumbledore.
Minutes later however, that excitement was replaced with bitter disappointment. Harry looked at the headmaster in slight disbelief as Dumbledore took out Harry's Pensive and put in a memory from an abject stranger without so much as a by-your-leave. He should've known that the old man was going to pull something like this. When Dumbledore had first told him over the summer that he was going to be giving Harry private lessons, Harry was initially elated. He thought that the old man had finally come around, that now he was going to start properly training Harry to defeat Voldemort. Harry had fully expected to be given pointers in duelling strategy and casting spells. He even had expected to be taught some arcane and rare spells as yet unheard of (despite Hermione's insistence on the contrary).
What he wasn't expecting however was for Dumbledore to show him the memory of some idiot Ministry worker who in all probability was a half-blood or pureblood, if the way that man dressed was anything to go by. Honestly, a one piece bathing suit? The man already looked like a mole to begin with thanks to the huge thick glasses on his short fat face. The bathing suit did not help his figure any. Luckily for Harry's youthful innocence (what was left of it anyway) Bob Ogden was wearing a frock coat. Harry shuddered to think of what he would've seen had the wizard decided to forego that thanks to the obviously hot summer's day in the memory.
Harry and Dumbledore followed the man down the country lane. The clear summer sky overhead coupled with the plant life on either side of the country lane filled Harry with a sense of tranquillity, his mind to coming up with images of a completely made up childhood. It was only by breathing in the air and noticing a lack of smell did Harry remember that this was a memory and nothing else. As they gazed down the village of Little Hangleton, Harry was for a brief moment transported to his fourth year when he and Cedric grabbed that cup. Harry would never forget that tall mausoleum in the centre which could be seen all the way from where he was currently standing. Shaking himself out of the memory and the potentially depressing thoughts that it would lead to, Harry concentrated on following Bob Ogden. He finally had a name to that nightmarish site-Little Hangleton. It definitely looked different in the light of day.
'You are not welcome' the chilling words brought Harry to the present. While he was thinking he had unconsciously been following Dumbledore and the odd man that was Bob Ogden. Looking around, the owner of the voice was found to be a short monkey-like man holding a dagger with matted hair and dressed in filthy rags. Harry could make out a rundown shack a bit into the distance nestled in the grove of trees that he suddenly found himself in. If it wasn't for the smoke coming out of the open window, the house (if it could be called one) would've been thought of as abandoned.
The current occupants of the house certainly lacked proper taste, mused Harry as he looked at the dead snake nailed to the door. Though, he concluded as the tramp hit Ogden with a curse that made yellow pus ooze out of his nose, the occupants did seem to be on the violently insane side.
It took all of Harry's self control not to stop dead at the name Ogden referred the man to and follow conversation. Harry distinctly remembered the name Gaunt on his family tree. At first he thought that it was a mistake, or that it was another family with the same name, but the Parseltongue he had observed the father and son conversing in stopped that line of thought. Morfin at any rate seemed incapable or unwilling to speak English.
'Ar, that was Morfin,' said the old man indifferently. 'Are you pure-blood?' he asked, suddenly aggressive.
'That's neither here nor there,' said Ogden coldly. Harry could detect a hint of defensiveness in the voice.
Definitely Halfblood then or possibly Muggleborn, thought Harry, though he doesn't seem too proud of it.
Harry looked at the interior of the house where Morfin was playing with an adder and hissing to it. So these are the Gaunts, descended from Salazar Slytherin, he thought as he looked at the deformed faces of the family. They really have fallen far. He wondered what had happened to such an ancient and noble house that they were living in squalor. Perhaps the Chamber of Secrets held those answers. He had no idea that the magical side of the family was still alive. Not that Harry would want to publically acknowledge any relationship to these ... people.
They certainly hadn't lost their pride, Harry observed as he saw the way father and son talked down on the Ministry worker. Their arrogance came close to beating a typical Malfoy or Black despite their ugly features and worse than Weasley appearance.
Harry received his third shock of the day as the old man showed Ogden the ring on his finger. It was the same one he had seen on Dumbledore's hand in the summer, albeit less tarnished with the stone whole! How were the two connected? And the name Peverell sounded familiar...
And the shocks didn't end there; after some more arguing Gaunt then grabbed his daughter and dragged the poor pitiful woman forward by a locket on her neck to show the same to Ogden. The sight of the locket on her neck triggered another vision, as unbidden, from the very depths of his mind, a rush of colour, lights and sound came to his consciousness coalescing into a memory;
He was looking down at the battered form of a woman lying on a bed in a cheap inn, her plain features twisted in confusion and pain, slowly turning into horror as she gazed upon the red gleam he knew was shining in his eyes. He smiled coldly at her as he watched her engulfed by the green light that came out of his wand...
The phantom pain that accompanied this vision was lesser than the pain Harry had experienced in the last vision he had that was triggered by the ring he had noticed on Dumbledore's finger in the summer.
'…Slytherin's!' yelled Gaunt, bringing Harry back to the present, 'Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last liv ing descendants, what do you say to that, eh?'
Lovely, thought Harry sardonically. That definitely cleared up any remaining doubts that these were the same Gaunts as Morag Gaunt. Not that Harry was happy about it. The only way it could possibly get worse was if Voldemort was descended from them.
He really hated being right at times, Harry decided as he saw the young man who looked a lot like the memory of Tom Riddle on the gleaming chestnut horse, laughing at the spectacle that was a fleeing and dusty Bob Ogden at the end of the memory. He really should have twigged on that as soon as he heard them raving about being the descendants of Slytherin, and speaking Parseltongue. Though now that he thought about it, their insanity and propensity to violence was further confirmation that Voldemort was descended from them ... after all, Voldemort was just about as insane and violent as his uncle and grandfather. Not to mention bleeding ugly.
Harry sat in the chair opposite Dumbledore's for a good few minutes processing the information revealed in the memory, while Dumbledore waited patiently for him to speak.
'I'm guessing that the family Bob Ogden had visited were Voldemort's maternal family,' Harry half stated half questioned coming out of his stupor.
'You would be correct, and that Muggle on the horse was Tom Riddle Senior, Voldemort's father, while the old man Marvolo Gaunt was his grandfather and Morfin his uncle,' said Dumbledore.
Harry sniffed in response, 'She really isn't much to look at, so I assume that love potions or enchantments were involved. Judging by her competence in performing even the most basic of spells, I would assume that it was more of the former than the latter.' He paused, still deep in thought. 'Her family weren't exactly Muggle friendly, so I don't see them approving of this, and she seems too meek to sneak about with them around ... thus they would have to be taken out of the picture ... from the memory you showed just now, I would hazard a guess and say that Bob there came back with some friends and brought Morfin and Marvolo in for a nice stay in Azkaban.'
'Indeed,' said Dumbledore with faint amusement. 'Ogden Apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements within fifteen minutes. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage, and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of Muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months.'
'In the absence of her tyrannical and abusive father and brother, Merope Gaunt seized the chance for freedom and possibly used a Love Potion or the Imperius Curse on Tom Riddle to get him to marry her. I suspect, like you, that it was the former, but mainly because a Love Potion would seem more romantic to her. It would be a simple matter to slip the potion in a drink of cool water on a hot day to a thirsty Tom Riddle ... it caused quite the scandal when the squire's son ran off with the tramp's daughter.'
Harry bit back a sarcastic remark at that. It was rather obvious that Tom Riddle running off with someone like Merope Gaunt would get people gossiping. Not only were they both on the extreme opposite sides in terms of wealth but in terms of looks too. 'But things didn't turn out that well did they?' he said instead. From what Voldemort had revealed about his history in the past, Harry knew that he was raised in an orphanage.
'No they didn't,' said Dumbledore heavily. 'Merope probably stopped feeding Tom the love potion after she got pregnant in hopes that he would stay behind. However, as we know, he left her almost immediately, returning to his parent's house and claiming to have been bewitched by her.' He sounded a tad disapproving. 'Destitute and broken-hearted, Merope Gaunt managed to scrounge a living, being forced to sell the only valuable item she had with her, that locket. She eventually gave birth to Voldemort in an orphanage in London in December and died shortly after.'
Harry really couldn't find any sympathy for Merope here. It was her fault that she ended up pregnant without any means of support in the first place. He could understand the Muggle Tom Riddle's reaction to finding out that he had been enthralled by her, but at the same time thought that Merope was pretty stupid to have stopped feeding him the love potion. At the very least she could have made Tom give her everything he owned before stopping the dosage, and then finding out if he was going to stay ... some Slytherin she was.
'I think that will be enough for this evening, Harry,' said Dumbledore after a few moments of silence.
As Harry got up to leave, he noticed the Peverell ring sitting on one of those spindly legged tables that normally supported one of Dumbledore's many frail looking instruments. Harry mentally rolled his eyes, sure that the old man had put it there just so that Harry would notice it. With a sigh he asked Dumbledore about it not really expecting an answer. He wasn't disappointed; with a smile Dumbledore dismissed him mentioning that Harry could share some of what he learnt today and would learn in future lessons with Ron and Hermione since they were trustworthy. He also warned Harry to keep such knowledge between the three of them. Harry agreed to that. It wasn't as if Ron and Hermione had friends to tell in the first place. Except Ginny that is.
Distracted and thinking about what he had seen so far, Harry entered the Gryffindor common room where he was brought out of his musing by his aforementioned friends demanding to know what Dumbledore had taught him. Harry graced them with his presence for a while listening to them dissect what Dumbledore was trying to achieve before he left them saying that he wanted to go to bed and turn in early.
Situating himself on his bed and drawing the curtains, he sunk into a meditative state to search for the name Peverell within his memories. He didn't need to search for long before he got the memory associated with that name. Hurriedly getting off his bed, he opened his trunk and rooted around a bit. With a triumphant exclamation, he extricated his copy of the family tree which was the result of the lineage test he had done in Gringotts.
Scanning it, he finally found mention of the Peverell name. Sure enough, just as he remembered it, was the name Cecelia Peverell. She had married a Radulfus Potter, Harry's many times great grandfather sometime in the thirteen hundreds. There wasn't any mention of siblings so Harry guessed that she was an only child. That didn't, however, rule out the fact that she may have had a relative who had married into the Gaunt line. Lovely thought Harry sarcastically, another connection to that snake-faced wanker, just what I need. His mood did not improve when he saw the name Morag Gaunt written on the middle column with a single line connecting the ancient wizard to his mother. Harry fervently hoped that Morag Gaunt did not have any connections to the family of heathens he had seen in that memory. Though he didn't have high hopes. With his luck, Voldemort was probably his half brother in some twisted way.
Rolling the family tree up, he bent over his trunk to place it back in when he noticed his birthday gift from Ollivander. He hadn't had the chance to read it yet. Making a note to start reading it, he closed his trunk and drew the curtains of his bed closed again.
He looked around the room one more time. The room was just as empty as it had been before he had entered it. He quickly drew his cloak out from his pocket and donned it. Slipping out of the door he snuck downstairs to the common room. Being a Saturday night, the room was still populated by students doing homework or enjoying free time with their friends. However curfew had ended meaning that the entrance won't be opening anytime soon.
Harry was contemplating putting off his trip for another time when the portrait opened and McGonagall stepped inside followed by a first-year. Immediately all noise in the common room ceased as her presence was noticed while she scanned the room. Harry noticed two seventh-years surreptitiously concealing some hip flasks in their pockets.
'Do you know where Mr. Potter is, Ms. Granger?' she finally asked Hermione. Her voice, though soft, carried through the now silent common room. Harry also noted that her lips were pretty thin and there was a look of faint irritation on her face.
Uh-oh thought Harry, whatever she wanted him for, it couldn't be good. She normally reserved that look for people she was about to give detentions to, take points from, or eviscerate. He gave the titch accompanying McGonagall an evil look, certain that she was the one behind this. Not that she noticed, what with him being invisible and all. She did seem nervous though.
'I think he's asleep Professor,' said Hermione.
'Weasley can you go and check?' said Professor McGonagall.
Please don't draw the curtains, please don't draw the curtains thought Harry as he quickly moved out of the way and went to a corner of the common room to avoid bumping into anyone as Ron went up to the sixth-year dorm. If Ron decided to do that and found an empty bed, then he would know that Harry wasn't asleep. Shortly McGonagall would know. That would then raise questions as to exactly where Harry was if he wasn't in the tower despite Ron and Hermione having seen him go up the dorm, along with half the house. Harry was sure that the situation would get really ugly then.
'He's definitely asleep professor, the curtains of his bed were drawn and he didn't answer when I called his name.' said Ron coming down.
Thank Merlin thought Harry as he silently slumped against the wall.
'Do you want me to wake him up?' asked Ron. Harry tensed up again, hoping with all his might that McGonagall didn't say yes.
McGonagall took a moment to think on that before saying, 'No that will not be necessary, Mr. Weasley.' Harry slumped against the wall again. 'It can wait till tomorrow. I want all the Gryffindor prefects along with Mr. Potter to meet me after breakfast. We can have our weekly meeting then instead of later tonight.'
'Please Professor; may I know what this is about? Harry isn't in trouble is he?' asked Hermione. Thinking quickly, Harry started creeping across the room, careful not to make any sound till he was in front of McGonagall and in between his head of house and friend.
'You will find out tomorrow Ms. Granger,' said McGonagall cryptically. 'I expect all of you at my office at ten tomorrow sharp.' Hearing Ron groan softly, she said, 'Yes that means you as well Mr. Weasley. I don't care how early it is on a Sunday morning, but I want you there and you better be presentable. I will not be pleased if you arrive wearing your pyjamas or yesterday's clothes. You better have bathed as well.' With that she turned around to exit out of the portrait hole ignoring the titters coming out as well as the slightly embarrassed expression on Ron's face.
Now behind her, Harry followed McGonagall, sticking so close to her that his chest was nearly touching the back of her head. He was careful to ensure that he was matching her stride step by step. It was thanks to his Quidditch reflexes that he managed not to bump into her as she stopped abruptly just in front of the entrance. Quickly backing up a few steps, he hoped that she hadn't suspected anything as she turned her head. 'Oh, and Mr. Williams and Mr. Caruthers, I will very much appreciate it if you don't share the contents of your flask with the younger years. You won't like the consequences should you be found giving alcohol to minors.' Her sharp gaze picked out the two now sheepish seventh years that Harry had noticed before. As she opened the portrait wide enough Harry slipped through quickly. She barely felt a breeze as he passed by.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry watched McGonagall walk of briskly towards her quarters. He spent a moment wondering what she wanted him for along with the other prefects before shrugging. He would find out later anyway. There was no need to waste time thinking about that. He had work to do.
He swiftly and silently made his way towards the second floor, avoiding the prefect and teacher patrols using his father's map. He had also activated his necklace for further security. Stopping outside the out of order girls' bathroom, Harry paused a moment to look around the corridor. It had been nearly four years since he had last traversed this corridor, and the ominous messages that had been put there all those years back were still as vivid and bright red as ever. It looked like Filch still hadn't been able to wash it away. Wonder how pissed off it will make him if someone were to mention this? Thought Harry amused.
Seeing that nobody was around in his vicinity, and that it would be five minutes at the earliest by the time the next person entered the corridor, Harry opened the door and quietly slipped in. He checked his map again; Myrtle wasn't around in the bathroom (she was lurking in the prefects' bathrooms again ... poor Ernie ... it probably was for the best he not be told about that). Deactivating the map and removing the cloak, Harry approached the sink at the far end.
'Open,' he hissed in Parseltongue. The tap started glowing at this as the sink sank out of sight, leaving behind a large opening, where, after casting a cleaning charm, Harry quickly slid down.
Only to be brought up short. The cleaning charm had removed the slime, but at the same time without the lubricating effects of the slime, the friction between his clothes and the stone was too high to allow him to slide down the pipe effectively, meaning that he was stuck a few feet from the entrance, which shortly closed after him, leaving him no choice but to go down. So Harry was reduced to awkwardly scooting along on his backside cursing all the way. Fortunately, it wasn't for long as he soon found that his cleaning charm hadn't cleaned out the whole pipe. Gratefully, Harry let himself go down this section and slid the rest of the way down. Landing at the exit on the damp floor with a wet thump as he was ejected, just as slimy as the last time he had done this.
Still swearing and cursing, he waved his wand over his clothes, clearing the slime out. Now marginally cleaner but still swearing (he hadn't been able to get it out of his hair) he continued down the tunnel till he came to the second obstacle.
Harry stopped short and looked at the solid wall of broken rock that was there before him. He couldn't believe that he had completely forgotten about that part. The hole that he had crawled out with Ginny also looked to be too small for him to slip through it now! Had he really been that small then? It would take quite a bit of time to get that cleared away safely without causing a bigger cave in and losing access to the Chamber for good.
Well might as well get that taken care of first he thought as his eyes fell on the shed basilisk skin that was lying close to the cave in. He had no idea what use the skin would come to, but better safe than sorry. Besides, it still looked as pristine as it had done before. About to call his elf, he stopped short; I'm such an idiot, he mentally said as he called Randolph.
The distinguished head elf instantly appeared at his master's side, 'Sir is calling Randolph?' the elf inquired politely. Either it was the elf's training, or all elves were weird that way as Randolph didn't even question what they were doing in such a place. In fact, he acted as if meeting his master in dark strange tunnels with shed basilisk skin was completely normal.
'Er, yes,' said Harry, 'do we have a place where we can store ingredients especially animal parts indefinitely?'
'Yes sir, there is a room like that in Potter Manor with stasis charms to prevent the items from going bad. You would know if you had gone there sir.' The elf tacked in the last bit in a slightly disapproving manner.
'All in good time Randolph. Right now going there isn't safe for me or for the family.' Said Harry, soothing the elf's ruffled feathers 'make no mistake I plan on visiting the place as soon as possible. Now, about that skin ...' he asked leadingly.
'It shall be done sir,' said Randolph. With a click of his fingers, the skin was moved to the storage space.
'Thank you Randolph,' said Harry. 'By the way, how fast can you get that cave in repaired?' he pointed to the wall of rock before him.
The elf looked at the cave in for a while before saying, 'It will take time sir,' he said slowly, 'we'll have to be careful not to damage the tunnel any further. I do know of five elves how know how to do this properly.' Falling silent he looked at the cave in closely before saying hesitantly, 'They should be able to finish it within a day I think.'
'Very well,' said Harry, 'that should be fine. Can you transport me to the other side for now?' Harry doubted that the anti-apparation wards around Hogwarts extended this far, and he felt too lazy to find out.
The elf took Harry's hand in response and with a 'pop', Harry found himself on the other side of the cave in.
'Thanks Randolph. One other thing though. There is a rather large, dead magical animal and since I killed it I figure that it is mine anyway. So do you know if any of the elves that can render it down to potions ingredients?'
'It will depend on the animal in question sir,' said the elf after a pause.
'Alright then, let's get down to seeing it!' said Harry as he led the way forward, the elf cautiously following behind.
Coming to a stop at the double doors that led to the Chamber, Harry hissed a quick 'open' which opened the doors. Other than a slight widening of his eyes, Randolph didn't show much of a reaction to Harry's ability to be able to speak Parseltongue.
Entering the Chamber, Harry's eyes immediately fell on the huge corpse of the basilisk. He was surprised to note that there were no signs of decay on the dead animal. He had fully expected to be assaulted by a horrendous smell of rotting flesh as the snake had been there for a long time. Instead, the corpse looked as fresh as if it had been killed yesterday. Initially Harry thought that it was because of the snake's magical aura and highly poisonous nature that prevented any microorganisms from digesting it, but then he saw the smear of blood next to the basilisk on the wall which he, (with an unpleasant jolt) recognised as his. The smear though dried out, was still glistening dully in the greenish gloom that permeated the Chamber almost as if Harry had bled there recently and not four years back.
It was this smear that led Harry to suspect a strong preservation ward having been cast on the entire Chamber. It certainly accounted for the relatively pristine condition of the Chamber. After all, for a room that probably hadn't been properly used for a couple of centuries, the Chamber was in a pretty decent condition. All it needed was a bit of cleaning and perhaps some minor repairs.
Randolph gave a small gasp when he saw the basilisk Harry was talking about. Smiling in victory at finally causing the elf to lose control, Harry said with forced nonchalance, 'How long do you think it will take to render that one down?' he waved at the corpse sounding as though it was a small garden snake he was talking about and not a sixty foot long behemoth.
'Dobby, Winky and I can take care of this sir,' said Randolph, his voice cracking a bit as he looked at the massive basilisk that was looming over him. 'Hopefully it shall be done by the end of next week.'
'Wait, those two? I'd better talk to them then,' said Harry, knowing how much Dobby hated Winky and vice versa, it would take much longer for the task to be done if they had to work together.
With a pop the two house-elves appeared, 'Harry Potter sir!' said Dobby bouncing in place as soon as he appeared, 'It has been so long! Dobby was wondering when Master would call on Dobby!'
'Hello Dobby,' said Harry with a smile, 'I hope that you've been enjoying your work? Anyway,' he continued hastily as he saw the elf's eyes go misty at that question. 'I have a task that only you and Winky here will be able to do.' He would never get things done if he let Dobby start wailing about how kind and considerate he was, 'I want you to help Randolph here' he nodded to the head elf and Dobby's boss, 'to render that animal behind you so we can use its parts.'
At this Dobby and Winky turned around and screamed rather loudly when they laid eyes on the basilisk. 'Where is master finding such a big snake?' said Winky wonderingly and slightly hysterically.
Harry took a moment to recover from the ringing in his ears created by the elves high pitched voices. 'I killed it in my second year. This,' he gestured around the room, 'is the Chamber of Secrets'
The three elves took a moment to digest this bit. Even they had heard of the legend of Slytherin's famous Chamber. Dobby was the first to recover. At once he started praising Harry's prowess as a wizard with an increasing amount of worship in his eyes. Shortly he realised that he had tried to prevent Harry from attending Hogwarts. Harry was thankful for that as the elf immediately shut up and started berating himself for being stupid enough to stop "the great and all powerful Harry Potter". Harry was sure that the elf was a step away from actually falling on his knees and bowing and scraping in his presence. That would certainly be embarrassing!
'Well, I want you to get on with this and finish as soon as possible. That means no fighting you two, am I clear?' said Harry in his most stern voice as he looked down at the two elves. The elves agreed meekly.
Harry smiled, 'Good, I also want you lot to clean the place up after you are done with the tunnel cave in and the basilisk. Get some magical lighting in here and see to any repairs. We'll talk about the details tomorrow.' The elves nodded again, and Harry dismissed them.
As soon as the elves left, Harry just remembered that there was no way he could leave the place on his own. Cursing himself, but not wanting to call an elf yet to transport him, Harry started exploring the Chamber. He was sure that Salazar Slytherin had created another entrance and exit. After all, while the pipe entrance was well and good for a snake to use, a human wouldn't be able to exit the Chamber using the same route, even with magic.
After some searching, Harry finally found a tiny engraving of a snake in the left hand side wall. With a hissed 'Open' a section of the wall opened that led to a passageway which Harry was sure was the way out. Traversing the path with his wand lit, he saw that it led to an antechamber with a tunnel directly opposite him flanked by two archways each framing a blank stretch of wall. Harry continued through the tunnel, and after a bit of walking he came to a blank section on the wall which opened outwards automatically as he approached it leading to a stone staircase leading to a dead end
Going on a hunch, Harry quickly went up the stairs. As soon as he reached the top, the section of wall slid open. Exiting it, he looked around and found himself in the antechamber off the Great Hall where he had been sent to in his fourth year after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. Turning around Harry saw the wall soundlessly and smoothly slide back. Examining it, he found a carving of a snake etched into it.
A quick look at his watch revealed that it was rather late. Donning his cloak, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower. The late hour meant that he did not run into anyone, even though the map showed the presence of Order members patrolling certain parts of the castle, with what Harry guessed to be Aurors patrolling the school grounds.
Whispering the password to the fat lady (who swung open still asleep) Harry quietly made his way back to his dorm room and went to sleep. He hadn't been able to fully explore the Chamber, but he had found out quite a bit.