Chapter 77

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Chapter 52- Bearings.

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Well, fuck...

That was... not what I thought would happen. In fact, that was very much not even a possibility in my mind. I expected for Mrs Norris to be nailed to that wall next to the blood-written message, but when I worked my way through that crowd to see Harry and his two buddies standing there, there was someone else I didn't account for. Filch.

Fucking Filch. He was there, stiff as a board, just as petrified as his cat was. From what I could make out and a lot of assumptions, Ginny had gotten the Basilisk to go after the cat and, once petrified, hung it up before using the blood she had procured from somewhere to write the message. Enemies of The Heir Beware. Things up to this point were fine and as expected, but something must have gone wrong here.

I assume that at this point, Filch came along and, seeing his cat, ran to her and tried to get her off the wall. And then something, maybe a noise, made him turn around, and he got petrified. How, I don't know. Maybe he saw its reflection in the water just like his cat or caught a glimpse in the reflection of some glass. Either way, the dude ended up petrified, luckily not managing to die. And that has completely whacked things out of process for me.

I remember seeing Ginny's face in the crowd, and she was as pale as anything, more than a Weasley should be. She looked very bad, and I had a feeling that it was because of what happened. But unlike canon, this time, an actual person was involved, so she should feel worse than that. Maybe she has already gotten rid of the diary in horror. Maybe some other poor soul has already picked it up, meaning Harry won't find it. Maybe she won't even try to get it back since it hasn't had enough time to be addictive. Shit, everything is going off the rails...

Okay, calm down, Gilderoy. Let's think this through, and from there, we can figure out what we need to do next. Talking in the third person always helps. Okay. So, things have happened that are at all following the canon I knew. Ergo, I can no longer rely on that information at all, as it could result in serious death or injury, as it did for Filch. Alright, with the safety net of knowledge gone, I am stuck in this castle with a massive snake that can kill with a gaze, and even if that doesn't work, it can bite and eat me whole.

So, how can I prevent this? First of all, I could quit my job and run away from the castle, ruining my reputation and forever impacting all of my business and ongoings henceforth. That option is out, and not just because of the consequences, but because I refuse to run away. You run away once, then you will always run away. Especially when it matters the most.

So, option number 2 and my only option really is staying as a teacher in this school and finding a way to deal with having a Basilisk in the same space as me. Now, that is either option 2a, where I try to avoid contact at all costs, basically being on guard at all times and making as many precautions as possible to survive and let Harry and pals deal with this, even if the canon is kind of shot. I can't trust this, as, as I just said, canon is shot, and so I can't rely on Harry saving the day.

This means option 2b, or let's just call it option 3, is my only available avenue. Which is to go after this fucker before he can get me. To prepare and steady myself for combat to murder this fucker before I walk around the wrong corner at night and die. However, I can't just murder the thing. I need to do so in such a way that Harry will have access to the venom and fang of the Basilisk, as well as getting his hands on the sword of Gryffindor and have the sword absorb the venom. 

That way, Harry can use them to destroy the other Horcruxes in the future. Otherwise, I will have to go out of my way to go and destroy them, and I don't have plot armour, so I don't want to do that. I'll probably get done in by the curse on the ring because I am a greedy person. I know what I am about. I also know I really don't want to go and fight a Basilisk straight on.

So my best option here would be option number 4. which is a mix of options 2 and 3. So, I will take as many precautions as possible to avoid the Basilisk while at the same time preparing myself to skin that slimy, wingless dragon. And hopefully, I will survive before the year is up... I am really questioning whether that Defence Against the Dark Arts curse is the thing that is doing this to me.

... now I just have to find out as much as I can.

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For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs Norris and Filch, and it was kept fresh in everyone's minds by the professors sporadically patrolling the spot where they had been attacked as though the attacker might come back. The words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. I guess without Filch around, no one was actually cleaning up the big messes. The one thing really making everybody feel it was the glaring fact that Filch wasn't there. Like it or not, the man was part of the Hogwarts experience, and people were used to him. Without him on the prowl, everybody felt off.

With my mind on dealing with this new situation, I realised the thing I needed the most was information. On Ginny, on Harry and on the situation as a whole. I need as much information as I can get my hands on so it can help me with my moves going forward. What happened in the time I left those three and the time I found them at the scene? What is going on with them now? Which is why I am once again being a creepy listening teacher. 

From my place at the teacher's table, I looked over at the Gryffindor table. Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs Norris and Filch's fate. She wasn't talking to anybody and just ate her food, looking very quiet. Ron, her brother, was obviously worried about her, thinking she was upset about the incident. And obviously, he didn't think anybody could be upset over Filch's state. According to Ron, Ginny was a great cat lover.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Snape as well before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, only occasionally at the dinner table, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out. I used some mind magic to help me get all the information I needed and found out what they had been up to. And I need information, but why do the research myself when there is a studious muggle-born who can't help herself to do it all for me. So, I read some memories.

Harry had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, he went upstairs to meet Ron in the library and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. Harry had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.

Harry found Ron at the back of the library, measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three-foot-long composition on "The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards."

"I don't believe it. I'm still eight inches short," said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches, and her writing's tiny." Yeah, I don't much appreciate that when I have to mark the assignments. Why can't she just be like the other kids and write in size 24?

"Where is she?" asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework. Seriously, these kids measure how much work they have done. Why can't I just use a word amount? But no, when I tried, I got complaints, and McGonagall told me off.

"Somewhere over there," said Ron, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."

Harry told Ron about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him. "Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great." Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and, at last, seemed ready to talk to them.

"All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books." Yeah, I made twice the amount of money off of her. She bought the originals and the school versions.

"Why do you want it?" said Harry.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," said Hermione, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" said Harry quickly.

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hermione, biting her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else."

"Hermione, let me read your composition," said Ron desperately, checking his watch. This usually works for him because I notice his work sometimes has words that are much too big for him to know at this point in his life.

"No, I won't," said Hermione, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it." She says that, but some more nagging, and she'll give in.

"I only need another two inches, come on -" The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to their History of Magic class, bickering. Alright, now let's see if anything is different because the next bit is where they learn about the Chamber of Secrets. This is also why I decided to use this method instead of attending the class myself, because who could be bothered to sit through all the boringness.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shrivelled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff room fire. His routine had not varied in the slightest since.

Today was as dull as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand.

Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed. "Miss... er-?" He stopped, not knowing her name. I bet he doesn't actually know anybody in this school's name, with Dumbledore being a fifty percent chance.

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice. Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance. Lavender Brown's head (I don't mean to be a weird guy, but this girl is growing up a lot quicker than the other kids) came up off her arms, and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off his desk.

Professor Binns blinked. "My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a slight noise like chalk scratching and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers-" 

He stuttered to a halt when Hermione's hand once more waved in the air again. "Miss Grant?" He said, getting the name wrong. Even though he had just got it right a moment before, he had already gone to reset to his normal mode.

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?" Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement I was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead. This was a first for him in the last couple hundred years, probably.

"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "Yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale." But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. You could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see... the Chamber of Secrets..." He tried to recall, a ghosty finger on his chin. "You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago, though the precise date is uncertain, by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued. "For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise. "Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden Chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing."

He continued. "Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic." There was silence as he finished telling the story. Still, it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. 

Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed. "The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber many times by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible." 

Hermione's hand was back in the air. "Sir? What exactly do you mean by the `horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.

The class exchanged nervous looks. "I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," said Seamus Finnigan, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. Clearly, this man doesn't pay attention to any of the students. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing-"

"But, Professor," piped up Parvati Patil, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it."

Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns, getting another name wrong. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore-"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't-" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!" And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor. 

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home." Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. 

Alright, so the lore of the Chamber of Secrets and other stuff I checked out while in their minds is the same. Things just changed with Filch also getting petrified, which I can only assume is because of my presence.

...I guess I might as well fuck shit up even more. In for a penny, in for a pound.

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