Year Two - Chapter Seventeen

I had a sherbet lemon in my mouth and Fawkes' chick-like form on my lap. The phoenix was standing on her tiny talons, and seemed quite vividly pleased at having returned into the Headmaster's office. The Headmaster seemed far less happy to see me in such a situation, and Professor Flitwick was present as the Head of my House. A charm had managed to clean me up quite nicely, but the smell still remained a bit in the air. It would eventually go away, like the tension draining from my body.

"Mister Umbrus, I hope you have a suitable answer for your nightly intrusion in my office?" the Headmaster asked, his voice gentle, but his expression quite firm. I quietly nodded.

"After Mrs Norris' petrification, I began to investigate," I said. "I feared for the school's safety, and wondered if there was anything I could do to stop the Heir. I knew it was a magical beast doing the petrification, and since the attack against Mrs Norris happened during a time where most of the students were otherwise busy with the feast, I made a tally of who was and who wasn't present during it. I downed the number to just a few students," I said. "They had to be someone who hadn't been at the feast during the beginning, but had joined midway, or someone who had joined only to leave it and then return."

I sighed. "The reason I didn't show at Professor Snape's lesson wasn't because I was sick, Headmaster, but because I was tailing the culprit, who discovered me," I grimaced, "Hence, in order to ensure he wouldn't catch me, I lied and then proceeded to follow them through the day as they sought another victim. I was seeking where the beast was kept, and I found out." I grinned as I puffed my chest up. "Once I found that out, I needed to act quickly. You wouldn't believe who the culprit was, after all. I was pretty sure of that," my smile threatened to split my face in half. "So I had to deal with the beast first, and I can guarantee you that the culprit in question is, right now, probably unaware of what happened down in the Chamber."

"Mister Umbrus, you recklessly endangered yourself," the Headmaster began, only for me to shrug. My shrugging took the wind off his sails, as if I had hit him in the stomach with it.

"Mister Umbrus," professor Flitwick began, "You do not realize the danger you went through or you do not wish to think about it?" he looked at me sharply, his goblin heritage probably coming to the fray.

"I had Fawkes with me," I said. "I knew it was a Basilisk, so-"

"A basilisk?" Dumbledore's word came out like a soft whisper, "A basilisk, and you faced it alone, Mister Umbrus?" he looked at me with something akin to wonder. "You went down into the Chamber of Secrets, a dying phoenix by your side, willing to face a basilisk?"

"I know my Ravens are odd sometimes," Filius Flitwick whispered, "But even so, to face a Basilisk by yourself-" he shook his head. "Oh, what a mad thing to do, Mister Umbrus."

"Somebody had to do something," I muttered. "And I was the one better suited for this."

Dumbledore's lips twitched ever so slightly, "It is a sad day when a student believes he can solve that which his teachers cannot, for either that day becomes their teacher's pride, or their teacher's greatest grief. I am glad this is the former, rather than the latter. Though I will have you tell me the culprit's identity, Mister Umbrus. This is quite the serious thing, and it needs an equally serious answer."

"Professor," I said gently, looking straight at him. "I will not give you the answer you seek, not unless we catch the culprit during the act down in the Chamber of Secrets itself."

The Headmaster looked at me as if I had grown a second head, but it was the truth. I couldn't say it had been Ginny Weasley. I hadn't bothered to pay attention. I hadn't seen her. I had never heard her voice to be able to compare it to that of the mysterious first year. This was an apt solution. Caught in the act, not only it would highlight Riddle's possession of the girl, but it would also solve the problem by itself.

"And why, pray tell, would you say something like that, Mister Umbrus?" it was Flitwick's turn to speak, and mine to grimace.

"It's necessary," I said. I looked sideways. "To make sure no innocents are harmed. I may be wrong, after all. I don't want anyone to go to Azkaban if they're not really the guilty party. I went down in the middle of the night to deal with the Basilisk, I did not want to face both master and creature."

"Very well," the Headmaster said, slowly standing up form his desk. "I will follow you, Mister Umbrus, into the chamber of secrets. Filius, tell Severus and Minerva what has happened-they have my utmost trust."

"I understand," Filius said, "But when this is over, I expect you to be ready for your punishment, young Ravenclaw."

"Understood professor," I answered, "And sorry if I made you worry."

The headmaster and I walked out, after I left Fawkes to sit in a mound of warm ashes beneath his perch. We moved like thieves on the way up to the sixth floor. From there, I showed to the Headmaster a path that led straight into the Room of Requirements, much to his surprise. "So this is where the room of chamber pots was," he whispered in awe. "Hogwarts never ceases to amaze me with its mysteries."

"As long as those mysteries don't endanger the children," I answered, "Because if they do, then they're meant to be eradicated."

"Is that so, Mister Umbrus?" the Headmaster remarked. "You are a children yourself. Why carry such a burden on your shoulders?"

"Because I can," I answered back. "Is that not why you do what you do, Headmaster? Because you can fight evil, so you do fight it?" I gave him a tight smile. "I can face evil. I can defeat it. If I do not fight, then it's no different than letting evil win."

We walked through the sewers of the Hogwarts' castle, our wands both shining tiny globes of silvery light to give us a sense of direction. "I don't know if they'll return in the morning, or wait a few weeks before awakening their beast again," I muttered. "But they failed to hunt me, so they might try again sooner, rather than later."

We came to a halt at the rabbit-shaped hole. "There's no need to go further, since if someone comes down here that isn't us, it's got to be them," I continued, "And we don't want them to run away at the sight of the broken door."

Dumbledore had remained silent until then, his eyes had taken everything in, and as he quietly stepped through and into the Chamber of Secrets, he walked out just a few minutes later. He looked at me, and I looked straight back into his eyes.

"You terrify me, Mister Umbrus," the Headmaster whispered those words out as if confessing to a priest. They rippled across the sewer-like tunnel. I grimaced at that. He looked away, as if ashamed.

"Why do you say that, headmaster?" I whispered back.

"I have met some people in my life, some great, powerful wizards. They both ended poorly, twisted by their evil ways. One, I did not recognize until it was too late, and my heart pained too much to act upon it. The other, I recognized, but still held myself back in hope of being wrong, in the sheer hope of changing whom he was. You are terrifyingly like them both, Mister Umbrus, and that is something that I freely admit scares me to my bones."

"Ah," I muttered. "But I don't want to rule the world."

"Is that so?" the Headmaster replied. "And if you felt the world wrong, would you not use fire to cleanse it? Would you not twist it to better suit your needs?"

"Headmaster," I sighed. "Why should I bother with the world, as long as the world doesn't bother with me? I'm a wizard. I can find myself an empty spot in the middle of the sea, pop up a cottage, and live happily there for the rest of my life not lifting a single finger more than to summon fish, or hit stray birds, or maybe steal a chicken or two from an industrial farm." I shrugged. "Maybe I shouldn't admit that I'd use magic to become a great thief, but...once I've got what I need, why should I bother for more?"

A great breath left the headmaster's lips.

"Mister Umbrus," he whispered. "You are one strange Ravenclaw, even for the members of the House of Oddities."

"Does that warrant another last minute point-fixing, professor?" I said, nonchalantly.

"For killing the basilisk and saving the school from such a monster, I should find a way to gift you with an Order of Merlin of sorts, Mister Umbrus," the headmaster said. "But if that is your wish...I'm afraid it's too early in the term for that."

"Uhm...and what about if I also get Lockhart to confess to being a pompous fraudulent thief of fame?" I glanced up at him, and Albus Percival Dumbledore, for perhaps the first time since I had seen him, broke into a small fit of laughter. It wasn't pearly, rich laughter. It wasn't the kind of awkward, nervous laughter that might accompany finding a child with his fingers in a pie. It was the kind of laughter that came once someone told you that no, there was no longer a need to carry a very specific weight on your shoulders.

"Remind me to never again underestimate you, Mister Umbrus, and never attempt to get you to cease fixing the Houses' points. It only brings us all trouble when that happens," Dumbledore kept his smile on his face for the reminder of our watch.

It lasted for what felt like a few hours, and maybe they had been. Yet the Headmaster didn't drop the vigil. Perhaps Ginny might not come the very next day. Perhaps she might not come for a week, or even a month. There was no guarantee, but I was reasonably sure that having failed to find someone to petrify the day before, she'd try again the very next day.

The smile on the Headmaster's face slipped at the sight of a small, first year girl coming towards us with her carrot-top head, clutching a leather diary and her eyes glazed over as if in a trance of sorts.

Wordlessly, the headmaster chanted a spell, and the girl passed by us without a word. She looked at the hole in the door, and then rushed through. "Who did this?" the girl hissed. "Who did this to the Basilisk?" she hissed further, "Dumbledore! It had to be Dumbledore!" she groaned, "No, he cannot know it was us. Not yet. We must leave. Leave quickly-"

"You won't be leaving," I said, stepping forth and gesturing at Dumbledore with my free hand to remain hidden. I wordlessly extended my left hand, but the wand remained firmly strapped to its holster. Thus, I swished my wand and snapped the entire thing off, letting it fly towards me and grabbing hold of it with my free hand. "Not in one piece, at least."

"Y-You!" he hissed. It was him. Tom Marvolo Riddle didn't appear. He didn't have the strength for that. He could possess Ginny, he could move her, but he couldn't make her do much more. "You are but a child, and you killed the Basilisk." Though glazed over, a spark lit in the back of those eyes. "I recognize you," he hissed. "We spared you, merciful to your purity of blood."

"About that," I said with a shrug, "I'm an orphan, probably a Half-Blood, so sucks to be you, but I played you like a fiddle from the very start. I knew you had the basilisk in the pipes. Wasn't going to let you eat me." I smiled, a feral-like smile. "But before I kill you and ensure your body is never found again...what name shall I write on your gravestone?"

"You? Kill me?" Ginny laughed. "Kill me and you will have achieved nothing. Know that I am Lord Voldemort, and tremble in fear at my name!" she actually gave the name with the ease a two-penny evil lord would then start the monologue. I was glad that was the case, because it made things clearer in the long run.

"Well then, I am no lord, no king, no petty baron or whatever," I hummed. "I'm just a righteous thief. You know, a magpie, or a crow told to get the shiny bits. So, if you want to know who I am..." I twirled my wand, and Ginny's body stiffened under the effect of the Petrificus Totalus. "I'm the Arsenic Wolf, Professor Death." I swished and flicked, and Ginny's hands opened, the diary floating forward.

"Headmaster, you have heard, I hope?" I spoke to the figure behind me, who appeared from the shadows with a grim look. "Possession, it looks like."

"Of the darkest kind," he acquiesced. "This will need destruction," he eyed the diary, and I smiled at him. Then, I gestured at the basilisk's remains.

"A basilisk's fang should do the trick, with poison to spare."

We walked out of there, a diary less and a floating damsel in distress saved...

...and it was only November, and I had yet to make the Christmas gifts.