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The atmosphere became instantly less joyous and more subdued in the compartment. While they had been away from the castle, it had been easy to pretend the situation wasn't serious. But now, on their way to the place where the petrifactions had occurred, the eagerness to pretend everything was normal was dissipating.
"Morag's parents didn't know anything about it." Alexandra told the two Lions, with the MacDougal Heiress nodding to confirm her words. "According to them, it was more a nasty rumour spread by Slytherins when they were at school in the seventies. Something used by the Snakes to threaten the students they bullied."
"But there was no petrifaction? Nothing at all?" Asked Hermione, biting worriedly her upper lip.
"Well there was a rumour..." Began Alexandra.
"It was never confirmed." Interjected Morag, her blue-eyes narrowing and her posture screaming how she was ill-at-ease.
"Sure. But some pure-blood and the Slytherins students of the seventies were openly saying their supreme leader was the Heir of Slytherin. And it was a claim they apparently continued to spread during the last civil war."
"Who-Know-Who?" Nigel Wolpert was literally shaking in fear.
Alexandra rolled her eyes. Honestly, the fear the British witches and wizards had to pronounce a dead wizard's name was half-comical half-pathetic. The man had been killed by Neville Longbottom the Boy-Who-Lived, he wasn't going to come out the next wardrobe with a "BOOH!" That and Voldemort sounded like an alias. There was no way this could be the real name of the Dark Lord. You didn't give birth to someone and called him Voldemort. This just wasn't serious. Alas, no one could deny the Voldemort persona had made a frightening impression on Wizarding Britain.
"Like I said, it was never confirmed." Repeated Morag in an imperious voice. "Pretending to be the Heir of one of the Hogwarts Founders cost nothing; proving it with the legal documentation and getting it confirmed by the Wizengamot is pretty expensive. You-Know-Who never tried to claim this title the legal way; as a result his words are just that: a claim."
"Another dead-end?" Demanded Hermione.
"No." Alexandra suddenly understood. "It all fits."
"I don't understand." Morag hadn't followed her way of thinking.
"I think I do." Hermione affirmed. "Alex, do you think-?"
The Potter Heiress made a large positive nod with her head.
"What are you saying?" Nigel demanded, giving the last part of lettuce to his pet.
"What if Voldemort had opened the Chamber of Secrets while he was studying here in the forties or fifties?" Asked rhetorically Alexandra, ignoring the fear on Morag and Nigel's face as she spoke the dreaded name. "What if the reason the Slytherin felt confident the Heir of Slytherin was this Dark Lord because he had already opened the Chamber and shared the news with them?"
"It could explain a lot of things." Said Hermione in a thoughtful tone, as the train passed in a tunnel to reappear in the English countryside illuminated by a faint winter sun.
"There's only a small problem with your logic." Huffed Morag. "How has the Chamber of Secrets been opened now? Assuming You-Know-Who is the Heir of Slytherin, the man is dead. He's not going to stroll inside the castle under Dumbledore's nose and unleash the Monster of the Chamber on all of us!"
To her regret, the raven-haired Ravenclaw had nothing to explain this discrepancy. "Maybe the Heir explained to one of his subordinates how to do it?" She tried.
"Bloody unlikely I think." Smirked Morag. "Do you think You-Know-Who would tell his secrets to Lucius Malfoy or one of the other Death Eaters in liberty? His most loyal servants are at Azkaban. Everyone knows that."
"Language!" Exclaimed Hermione, before being distracted by Crookshanks jumping in her arms.
"But Morag has a point." Nigel bad attitude appeared to have resurfaced, his voice was barely audible.
"She has several, in fact." Alexandra shrugged. "I'm going to search the Daily Prophet archives but don't keep your hopes up. The more we dig, the more I suspect someone has made sure to bury everything concerning the Chamber of Secrets."
An unpleasant realisation, but one which was leaving few other options after the mountain of research the two Gryffindors and the two Ravenclaws has done. Hermione was able to find her way through the large and inefficient bureaucracy of the magical world, and Morag has the contacts her blood and her family entitled her. Nigel, with a father diplomat, completed the picture. And Alexandra herself had a good knowledge of non-magical myths and legends. One of the four finding no information would have been the norm. Two would have been surprising, but not completely stretching the realm of possibilities. Four however, was the sign the information they had made their quest to discover had disappeared or never existed in the first place. Behind her livid green eyes, Alexandra wasn't sure what explanation she liked the least.
"Everywhere we turn, we have more questions. Never answers." It was a statement bordering on the side of complaint from Hermione, and the worst part was that it was ringing true. It was frustrating.
"Rome wasn't built in a day." Replied philosophically Alexandra.
"Nor by us." Added Morag, her bright red hair reflecting the descending winter sun in a red corona.
After this last remark, the topic was closed. They bought some Pumpkin Pastries and Chocolate Frogs from the trolley lady to go with their sandwiches and drinks, and afterwards discussed of the future lessons they were going to assist once they were back at the castle. The sky outside was growing darker and darker, and snow was now present not far from the railroad. Despite the lack of indication, it was more likely than not they were in Scotland now.
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