Chapter 90 — A Great Deal of Everything
Chapter 90: A Great Deal of Everything
"Draco."
Flitwick stepped into my office. He had given me a full two weeks to rest. Not that I'd done nothing during that time, but I hadn't studied anything new; I only kept myself in physical and magical trim. So it would be fair to say I was rested and refreshed, as everyone who knew me was kind enough to point out.
"Professor."
I nodded to my mentor.
"I'm nearly ready to return to teaching. Please forgive me for losing my temper that day, and for spending two weeks ignoring all my responsibilities. I needed it."
"Oh, I'm not here about that."
My mentor shook his head.
"Though I must admit, your breakdown caught me off guard, right up until I found out how much you'd been carrying. After that I stopped taking it personally and decided to give you some time. Especially since, after you summoned Godric, the Founders changed their minds and decided to bring all the Heads of House and professors into things. So for the past two weeks we've all been working together. They don't yet know, of course, that they're following instructions not just from Candida but from all four Founders."
Flitwick gave a small smile, and one appeared on my lips as well.
"So what brings you here, then?"
"The trap has been triggered."
For a moment I was bewildered, and then my eyes went wide with sudden understanding. It seemed rest was over.
With that thought I rose from my chair, threw on the cloak hanging from the back of it, and set off at a quick pace towards the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Honestly, I had nearly given up hope that the trap would ever work, and yet here we were.
We reached the place quickly. I opened the passage, and we descended into the Chamber.
"Basilisk, it's us."
Wand at the ready, I stepped inside and spotted the Basilisk looming over a Slytherin student. The boy was unconscious on the floor, a diadem on his head. The Basilisk herself was swaying slowly back and forth above him.
As we drew closer I heard her hissing voice in my mind.
"To eat or not to eat... To eat or not to eat... To eat or not to eat..."
"That's quite enough of that."
I walked up to her without hesitation and gave her a firm pat on the nose. Only after that did I reach into a small inner pocket and produce a miniature case, inside which sat a piece of dragonhide.
"Draco, do be careful."
"Yes, yes."
I nodded.
"Caution is my middle name."
With that, I took the piece of dragonhide, laid it over the diadem on the boy's head, gripped it carefully from both sides, and lifted it off. I wrapped it in the same hide and placed it in the case, then snapped it shut.
"Right. The Horcrux is dealt with. Now, what to do about the boy."
"What is there to do?"
Flitwick shrugged.
"He was under its control, so we Obliviate those moments from him and leave him in one of the unused classrooms."
I looked thoughtfully at the third-year Slytherin. Frankly, I had not expected this at all. The boy was quiet and diligent, someone who showed a great deal of promise. I'd suspected Flint, Nott, perhaps ten other people. But this boy...
"All right. He genuinely doesn't deserve to be dragged through the Ministry, through court proceedings, possibly even sent to Azkaban."
I was forced to agree with Flitwick.
"The trouble is, I don't have Obliviation at that level of precision. I only know the spell itself: to selectively erase specific memories, you need to have truly mastered it, and not just on practice dummies."
"I can manage it, but not with perfect precision either. So it's rather bad luck for him; we'll have to erase his entire year. Targeting only the memories connected to the Horcrux..."
Flitwick shook his head.
"Well."
I shrugged.
"He drew the short straw. The main thing is that this doesn't trace back to us."
"It won't."
Flitwick reached into his inner pocket and produced a small case, from which he drew a wand. He pointed it at the boy and cast Obliviate.
"There. He won't remember a thing."
He tossed the wand aside, then drew his own and simply burned the other where it lay.
"Right. We take the boy and consider the matter closed. And you, you ought to apologize to the Founders. We all understand, but still."
He shook his head.
"I will. A couple more days' rest and I'll apologize."
Flitwick picked up the boy and left the Chamber. I walked over to the bull onto which I'd transferred the curse from the Basilisk and killed it with a single spell, then transfigured it into a small pebble, which I planned to dispose of and burn somewhere outside the castle, perhaps the Forbidden Forest.
"Well. I think that's everything. Nothing can compel you now."
"Finally."
The Basilisk exhaled with relief.
"By the way, what was that small, funny little Head of House saying about the Founders? Has Sal come back?"
There was so much hope in her mental voice that it was genuinely painful to tell her the truth.
"No. I only managed to summon an imprint of his mind into a portrait. They're working now on a plan to restore Hogwarts to its former strength and greatness."
"I see."
Sadness crept into the Basilisk's mental voice.
"Is something wrong?"
"I was hoping he had come back. But a portrait, even one that can speak, it isn't the same. It simply isn't."
"Is there anything I can do? To make you a little less sad?"
"Hssss."
She hissed thoughtfully, the sound echoing in my mind as well, and then she gave an unexpected nod.
"A little bull... roasted."
It was said in a faintly wistful tone, and I found I could not refuse her. Before long, a young bull was roasting over a magical fire in the middle of the Chamber of Secrets, whole and unbutchered at the Basilisk's request.
It was fortunate that one spell was enough to remove the hide, or the smell would have been considerably worse. The Basilisk simply hung above the fire and thoughtfully tasted the air with her tongue, gauging when it would be done.
And when it was done, I was asked to take it off the fire and tidy up whatever mess I'd made, after which I received a dismissive wave of the tail, as if to say I was welcome to leave.
Several days later.
"Good day."
I entered the Room of Requirement and greeted the Founders.
"First of all, I want to offer my sincere apologies. I wasn't myself that day. I had no right to speak to you in that tone, or with those words."
"Think nothing of it."
Candida waved a hand.
"We understand that you were already on the edge of a breakdown, and that in that moment you simply couldn't hold yourself together. Tell us instead, did you rest properly?"
"Yes."
I nodded.
"I'm ready to work through to summer. I believe I can accomplish a great deal in that time."
"First things first. Now that the Headmaster and the other professors are willing to make sacrifices for Hogwarts, we must hang our portraits in the Great Hall, each one beneath the crest of its founder's house. Hogwarts will then have enough energy to activate the enchantment, and nothing and no one will be able to do anything to our portraits."
I gave a thoughtful nod at the words of my House's founder.
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
Godric entered the conversation.
"Night will be the best time to hang them. Oh, I can only imagine what the morning will bring."
A mischievous smile appeared on the Founder's lips.
"Quite. And on another note, I'm pleased to tell you all that there will be no more attacks using the Basilisk. Professor Flitwick and I worked together to catch the culprit, removed the Horcrux of the self-styled Heir of Slytherin from him, and wiped his memory of the entire year."
"Tell us in more detail?"
Salazar was clearly keen to hear everything, and I had no objection to obliging him. So I gave a thorough account of who exactly his self-proclaimed Heir was, what the boy had managed to do, and what manner of reputation he had earned in Salazar's name.
With every word I spoke, Salazar grew darker and more somber. Godric, meanwhile, couldn't resist commenting on nearly everything he heard. By the time night fell, Salazar was in a thoroughly foul temper, while Godric was in exceptionally high spirits.
I didn't particularly mind either way, and when the right moment came I moved the portraits to the Great Hall. There I used permanent Sticking Charms to fix them to the wall, then activated the enchantments that would prevent anyone from touching them. As a personal touch I added a small inscription above each portrait naming who it depicted.
In the morning, when I arrived in the Great Hall among the first to enter, I settled in to watch.
The first to notice was Snape, who walked in and stopped dead. The portraits of the Founders hung directly in his path along the wall, conversing quietly among themselves.
"This is... unexpected."
Students, noticing Snape frozen beside the staff table, finally looked up and saw that the walls of the castle were rather differently decorated than they had been the day before.
"Is this someone's idea of a joke?!"
Marcus Flint was on his feet at the Slytherin table.
"Mr Flint, please lower your voice."
Severus gave a slight grimace.
"And no, it is not a joke, at least as regards the distinguished Candida. I was already aware that her portrait had appeared in the castle, though she had until recently declined to interact with anyone beyond a very select few. As for the others."
"Oh, there is no need to wonder. I arranged with the same person who created my portrait to perform the same rituals for my companions' portraits. So all the portraits you see here are indeed my brothers and sister, the same ones with whom I founded this school."
"Ahem."
Dumbledore walked into the Great Hall and also stopped, but only for a moment. The old man knew how to compose himself, and did so quite quickly, making his way to his seat.
"That chair, though, you could have chosen something simpler. That is practically a throne."
Godric shook his head disapprovingly at whatever Dumbledore had settled himself into.
"Oh, let it go, Godric. A wizard of his years can be forgiven a harmless quirk like a taste for grandeur, provided he keeps it in check. Look instead at the manners at your table, half of them don't know even the most basic rules of etiquette."
"Shut your filthy mouth, you slimy Slytherin!"
Weasley sprang to his feet, and I couldn't quite suppress the urge to press my hand to my face.
"You! Shut your wretched mouth, you miserable little wretch!"
Godric leapt from his chair with a fury that made Weasley step back, glaring across the Hall. Well, it was a good thing I'd calibrated the enchantments properly. Their voices carried perfectly when they spoke or raised their voices, but when they spoke quietly among themselves, no one could hear them except the professors.
"How dare you open your mouth and address one of the founders of the school you attend in such a manner?! My companion?!"
"Now, now, now..."
The sixth-year began to stammer.
"If anyone insults my brother or my sisters again, I promise you, I will turn your life into something resembling the lower circles of Hell. Even in this limited form I am capable of a great deal."
Weasley stood pale and trembling.
"Most esteemed Gryffindor, I ask you to show some indulgence towards a student of your house. Mr Weasley is, on the whole, not a bad person: his tongue simply tends to outrun his brain."
Dumbledore decided to intervene.
"But..."
"I don't care which part of him outstrips which. I will not stand for my companion being insulted."
Whispers spread through the tables, with every student buzzing over the fact that Godric was defending Salazar. I glanced at the small beetle that had landed on my shoulder, its legs twitching with obvious agitation.
I had summoned Rita just before dawn, with all the Founders' blessing, telling her she ought to be in the Great Hall in the morning if she didn't want to miss a sensation, and that she would do well to hold the Prophet's morning edition or arrange for an emergency one, because she wouldn't want to wait until the next day.
"But, Lord Gryffindor, it is common knowledge that you quarrelled with Lord Slytherin, and that he left the castle."
"And? We quarrelled like that three times a year. Sometimes he left the castle, sometimes I did."
Gryffindor gave a perfectly casual shrug.
"We had rows with Helga and Candida that left all of us with scratch marks, and the girls..."
"Don't you dare!"
The combined shout from both foundresses silenced Godric at once, while Salazar quietly laughed into his fist. All in all, the morning was a success, though it was in all likelihood the last free morning I would have for some time, because from here on I was going to have to work with extraordinary diligence.
Ah, life. What a business.
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