146

*****

January twenty-sixth. Early morning. Hogwarts Castle.

Silence and calm, these are the two words that can describe this person's room at this moment. A stranger who comes here will be surprised at how much the room's furnishings differ from what is expected from the owner of the premises.

The wide, spacious room was furnished without frills, but with taste. A single bed made of dark wood, covered with "soft", cream-colored linens. One small closet that perfectly holds everything you need for life (praise the charm of expanding space). A powerful table and a chair stood as if at a distance, as if an invisible line divided the work area from the rest area. On the table there was a whole pile of papers, letters, and books. Most of the envelopes, unopened, were thrown into some kind of trash bin.

There were no paintings, no portraits, not even tapestries. Everything was done in a minimalist style. There was none of the narcissism that so often surrounded the man in public. Praise of himself, love for himself, calls to love him, bragging... All of that was absent here. A kind of home corner, his own fortress, for the duration of his life in this castle.

With a small click, the door opened, letting in a smiling blond man dressed in a purple robe. Smooth, slightly defiant movements, a sparkle in the eyes and the quiet sound of steps.

Another click and the door closed. A light pattern of runes that flashed throughout the room showed that the room was protected by runes of incredible complexity. A knowledgeable person would see the spirit of a master in this.

As soon as the door closed, the man who came in changed dramatically. The smile, warmth and "self-praise" were gone. In their place came composure and precision. Without slowing down, Gilderoy quickly approached the desk. A wave of the hand and an invisible network of spells reveals what was hidden before.

Opening a small cavity in the table, Lockhart brought out a small box. Having created a small knife out of thin air and cut his hand with it, he dropped a couple of drops into the keyhole. A loud click with a barely visible flash of red light signaled the opening of the box.

Carefully lifting the lid, the magician's blue eyes stared at the two medallions. Both were designed in the form of gold medals. Both were small. They differed only in the precious stones and designs carved on them.

The first medallion depicted a spider weaving a cocoon. Inside this cocoon, a bright ruby ​​was inserted. As soon as the light from the candle fell on one of the edges of the stone, it lit up with an otherworldly light. Its sinister glow was both enchanting and frightening.

The second medallion looked different. In its center was a schematic depiction of an eye. It seemed to shine from within. A faceted sapphire was used in place of the pupil.

Carefully picking up the medallion with the pack, Lockhart poured some mana into it and began to wait. The bloody stone began to emit scarlet rays, which, condensing, formed a light illusion with a bright, scarlet light in the center. If you look closely, you can understand that the illusion depicted Hogwart Castle, or more precisely, one of its floors. At that very moment, a scarlet light was moving along one of the corridors, towards the moving stairs.

After watching the movement of the light for some time, Gilderoy nodded to something. A moment later, he carefully took the second medallion by the chain and, lifting it in front of his face, stared straight into the diagram of the eye.

The world seemed to stand still. And along with him, the man holding the medallion in front of him froze. Only the movement of the light showed that the world had not stopped, but continued its course.

In an instant, the man's eyes flashed with a bright, blue light. As if in response, the sapphire flashed too. Gilderoy let go of the chain that held the medallion in the air, but it did not fall. On the contrary, it continued to hang in the air.

Then something completely inexplicable happened. His hands began to move around the suspended medallion in an inexplicable order. The brushes seemed to grab something and then move it. Inexplicable, mysterious, but so fascinating. As if he saw something that was inaccessible to others. Or maybe this is true?

This went on for a minute, maybe two. Finally his hands froze, and then slowly dropped. Closing his eyes, the man froze, waiting for something.

"Good morning, Master," Lockhart's voice, filled with the deepest respect and reverence, broke the silence. Perhaps if it had been his interlocutor, Gilderoy would have bowed his head at that very hour.

"...," the answer, alas, was not heard.

- That's right, SHE actually accepted a student.

"...," silence again.

"It is unknown whether he possesses the Gift, but there is a possibility," Gilderoy continued his report. "During my observations of the object, there were several precedents that could be attributed to the obvious use of the Gift."

— … .

- No, I cannot say this with one hundred percent probability.

— … .

- Yes, I can track the object. During the snake's attack on the object, I managed to get its blood.

— … .

"Yes, Master," the man bowed his head at the end of the conversation.

The glow that had been emanating from the sapphire was gone. Carefully picking it up, Gilderoy placed the medallion back in place, closing the lid of the box, hiding it in place.

Turning his attention back to the ruby ​​medallion, he looked expectantly at the pulsating scarlet medallion.

Slowly, a sinister smile blossomed on the man's face.

*****

The twenty-sixth of January. Half an hour before breakfast. One of the corridors next to the Great Hall.

The castle was waking up. Gradually it began to fill with the voices of children and adults. Even if the time is not the easiest, however, even it is filled with fun and joy, as soon as everyone hears the voices of children.

Gradually, all the children got themselves in order, they finally woke up and were ready to go to breakfast, and after that to classes.

However, in the two living rooms of the two faculties, panic slowly flared up. In the house of the ravens, two girls cannot find their friend, whom they let down due to their inexperience. Their nervous providence, as well as the absence of the culprit himself, was able to penetrate the rest of the children. Gradually, panic took hold of the ravens' house.

In the second house, the Lviv faculty, panic had already completely gripped the students. How could it be otherwise if a girl disappeared, the sister of the two heads of the faculty, and also the presumptive heir? The twins were ready to tear and throw, just to find the culprit and punish him. But the most important thing was to find my sister. This was the first priority.

The deans of these faculties rushed at full speed to their houses, led by the call of the prefects.

The other two faculties, as if nothing had happened, went to breakfast. Gradually the two crowds grew closer until they met in one of the corridors. They would have continued to walk further, if not for one thing, but... On the walls that they could see from around the corner, a scarlet inscription could be seen:

"Her remains will forever rot in the depths of the secret chamber."

Gradually, fear began to appear on the children's faces, followed by horror. The deans of the faculties would like to calm the children down, but...

- Kya-a-a-A! — the cry of one girl from the badger house became like a nuclear explosion.

The children panicked.

*****

Consciousness returned slowly, jerkily. A quick inspection showed that I was right in the air, and my body, which did not listen to me, was floating behind my "visavia". The already familiar chains of agony were on my hands, preventing me from using even a small part of the psi. No, in my mind I could use it, but I couldn't let it out.

Potter walked ahead of me, partially covered by her cloak. From behind, you couldn't tell what she was thinking or if she was excited. However, in her emotions, I could sense satisfaction, gloating, and a certain triumph. Maybe it just seemed that way to me, but for a brief moment, I managed to sense a bit of madness.

What is this? Tom's influence? Or the famous Black madness?

Finally, after fifteen minutes of wandering and one descent into the dungeons, we entered one of the abandoned classrooms.

With a slight rustle, Potter removed her robe and tossed it toward one of the chairs.

Turning to me, she met my attentive gaze. Smirking slightly, but saying nothing, she levitated my body to the wooden chair with a wave of her wand. One wave and I fall on it, another - my limbs are shackled by steel shackles. The chain did not disappear. Playing it safe is right.

"Good morning to you too, Potter," I finally said after a minute of staring.

There was no answer. She still looked at me intently, not missing a single detail. Green flames flashed in her eyes every now and then.

- Well, how long are we going to play staring? Or will you finally tell me why you attacked me?

A barely perceptible wave and a gray beam of a spell flies towards me. Having hit me, it immediately began to affect my nervous system, causing pain. Ha, some kind of parody of Crucio, but the effect is not so strong. And I do not feel much pain, to be honest, I have already experienced too much pain, and much stronger.

"This is where I ask questions, Wilson," he (she) said sharply. Hmm, the madness has increased. "Or should I call you Heir of Slytherin?"

Another spell, but this time a suffocating one. I clearly felt a lack of air, plus this barely perceptible hand on my neck... If my body had not been strengthened by the metamorphism, I would have definitely started to choke, but as it is...

However, perhaps it's worth pretending that her torture has an effect on me, otherwise you never know what else might come into her head... especially since I sense this madness all too clearly.

"Answer!" she shouted, interrupting the spell. "Are you the Heir?!"

"Ha, ha, ha," I began to gasp for air. - N-no.

- You're lying!

With a flash, a weak bolt of lightning struck me. My body spasmed, but there was no pain. Just a slight tingling.

- Answer! Are you the heir!?

- No.

- You're lying! — and another spell hits my body.

The same question, and then the answer, sounded about twenty more times in about ten minutes. My answers did not satisfy "Her Highness" at all. All this time I tried to somehow calm Potter down through empathy. Without the use of Psi, my powers in this regard dropped quite noticeably, but I could still influence her.

Finally, after these ten minutes, my influence bore fruit. Her madness began to subside, although not completely, she was alone and that's not bad.

- Do you know what this is? — she said, pulling out a familiar diamond-shaped amulet from her bosom. As soon as the ruby ​​pointed at me, it shone with a scarlet light.

"Judging by his reaction to me, this is some kind of search artifact," I suggested.

"That's right," she nodded. "It's a search amulet that works on the victim's blood." Damn, so she was able to pick up my blood after that basilisk attack. "I found this blood in one of the corridors on the seventh floor. Imagine my surprise when it led me to you.

"And it couldn't have occurred to you that this was the blood of the victim, and of the heir?" I asked, slightly puzzled. Judging by the flashes of emotion, it had.

- Of course, - she nodded. - But no new victims were found that day, just like no missing ones. Agree, if you are a victim, then you are the only one who escaped the attack? Isn't that too suspicious?

"So I'm lucky," he shrugged. The answer was another spell, this time causing a short-term cardiac arrest. How many spells like that does she know?

- Shut up! If you are truly a victim, then enlighten me, who is the heir? And how does he carry out attacks?

"The heir does not carry out the attack himself, his pet does it for him," he finally decided to answer.

- Pet? Who?

"Basilisk," he shrugged.

There was silence. Potter looked at me in disbelief, but I just calmly looked into her eyes.

- Ha-ha-ha, - the girl's laughter broke the silence. - And you yourself were able to escape from the basilisk? Don't make me laugh! How did you do it?

- Well, you've already seen my trick with flying. Then I did the same thing, just flying up to the roof of the astronomical tower - I hope that's why she won't have any more questions. It's better for her to think that I can fly out for a short moment than my ability in metamorphism.

- Okay, let's say I believed you. Then how can you explain to me that all the victims did not turn to stone? They're numb.

- Indirect look. The cat looked into the reflection of the puddle, but then it was opened... The other two looked through something: one through the camera, the second through the ghost.

There was silence. Harriet pondered my words intensely, but I continued to influence her emotions. Gradually I can do this better and better.

"And who is the heir?" she finally asked me.

"On the day of my attack, one of your friends was standing next to the snake. Ginny Weasley, apparently she didn't believe it much, since another spell flew in my direction.

- Stop lying! Yes, so that this fool becomes the Heir! Never!

- Maybe it wasn't her! She was acting strange that day! She was talking about herself in the masculine gender! She was moving nervously. It felt like she was possessed!

The spell wore off and I was able to breathe "calmly". Let's see what she has to say about this.

- Maybe you know where exactly the Chamber of Secrets is?

- I know, but it's not that easy to get into it. Most likely, you need Parseltongue to open the passage, and I don't know any Parseltongues.

Slowly, a mad grin blossomed on Harriet's face, and madness took over her entire mind. Even my empathic influence did not help.

There's something I don't like about this...

*****