Chapter Text
Merlin arrived at King's Cross at exactly 10:53AM. He'd been caught up saying goodbye to Norbert and Arthur, as neither of them wanted him to leave.
He'd been teaching Arthur a bit of magic from the Old Religion, just in case he ever needed or wanted to use it for anything. He wasn't sure whether Arthur had always had a little bit of magic in him, or if whatever he'd done to save him had gifted him with it—it had certainly tied their souls together in other ways.
He's gotten distracted with helping Arthur practice the night before, and had ended up waking up late. On top of that, there were the goodbyes.
By the time he'd managed to run over to wherever Platform 9 ¾ was, the clock had struck 10:59. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were outside of the platform, their trolleys tipped over and their stuff scattered on the ground.
People were staring at them and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"
Harry stood up and told him that they lost control of their trolleys, clutching his ribs in pain. Merlin ducked around the crowd and walked over to where Hedwig's cage had rolled and picked her up, petting her through the bars to calm her down.
He heard murmurs of people hissing, "Animal abuse", in Harry's direction and gently nudged them away with a thought.
Merlin made his way over to where they were standing and leaned against the platform, which was solid behind him. It shouldn't have closed—there were still people inside, ignoring the fact that the clock hadn't even struck 11 yet. The train wasn't due to leave for at least twenty more seconds.
He set Hedwig on top of Harry's trolley, and Harry turned to face him. "Thank y—Professor Erwood?"
"Hello, Harry, Ron."
"What are you doing here?"
"I decided to take the train this year, although it appears I got here a tad bit late. Do you happen to know why the barrier is closed?"
"No," Harry replied, distressed. A few people were still watching them curiously, but none of them were within earshot. "The rest of Ron's family went through before us, and when we tried to go through it wouldn't let us."
Harry kicked the barrier, but it hadn't seemed to change its mind yet, so he ended up just hurting his foot.
"We're stuck," Ron complained. "I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us."
"You're forgetting something," Merlin said, sighing. Their best friend was the brightest witch of their generation, but they were complete fools.
"What?" Harry said.
"The car!" Ron exclaimed.
"No." Merlin replied, a bit confused. "What car—nevermind. I'm an adult. I can Apparate."
"Yes, but that doesn't help us ." Ron said. He pulled his trolley away from the barrier and leaned on it.
"You can Side-Along Apparate with me."
"Three people and all of our luggage? No offense, Professor, but that sounds awfully dangerous. Plus, we have to go all the way to Hogwarts."
"I can do it," Merlin said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Let's get out of this crowd first, though."
The whole time that they were walking out of the station, Ron pestered Merlin about the risks—"One of us could get splinched. All of us could get splinched! Are you sure that this is safe? My family never Apparates us anywhere because of the risks, even though half of us can do it on our own."—and Merlin ignored him.
"Professor," Harry said. "If what Ron says is true—"
"I can do it. We'll have to Apparate a little bit outside of Hogwarts' grounds though, because you can't Apparate within the castle. It'll be fine. Besides—would you rather go back home for the year?"
Harry hesitated, then took the arm that Merlin offered to him and Ron. Ron sighed and followed Harry's example, and then they were at Hogsmeade Station.
Harry looked like he wanted to throw up, and Ron wasn't doing much better. Merlin's insides felt like somebody had ripped them out and then stuffed them back in haphazardly—he absolutely hated Apparating. It was why he teleported when he could—if it had just been Harry, he probably would have, but Ron had to know what it felt like to Apparate, and teleportation was sonething that only Merlin could do.
Merlin glanced at his watch. "Well, we're ten hours early. Did you want to do anything while we're waiting? There's a candy shop, I believe—Honeydukes."
"No; thank you," Harry said, appearing a little queasy.
"Okay." Merlin sat down on a bench and pulled a book out of his luggage. It was about the origin of transfiguration.
(He finished it in about an hour and spent the rest of the time trying to create his lesson plans. Harry seemed to be rushing through his summer homework. It appeared as though they were on the same page—he'd only created a new curriculum for the first years last year, as he hadn't wanted to mess with the older students' learning. He corrected events where he could, but kept the focus on more modern history.)
⚡⚡⚡
When the Hogwarts Express arrived, Hermione dashed out of the train and started skimming the crowd.
"Hermione! We're over here!" Harry exclaimed. She turned and ran over, then hugged them.
"Where were you seated? I couldn't find you anywhere," Herminione said. "I must have checked the whole train several times."
"Oh, uh—" Harry coughed.
"Professor Erwood brought us here with him. We couldn't get through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾." Ron filled in. "We Apparated here. It's the weirdest thing!"
"That's an understatement, " Harry mumbled.
"You Apparated here?! There were three of you, and you had your luggage. What if you'd splinched?" The last few words were directed at Merlin. "Professor—"
"I knew what I was doing, Ms. Granger. I do detest Apparating, but I am more than capable of getting three people and an owl nine hundred kilometers. Your concern is admirable, but neither of your friends lost a single cell."
Hermione flushed, then led her friends over to the carriages. "What is that? " was the last thing he heard before he made his way up to the castle alone.
Merlin put his luggage in the same room that he'd stayed in last time, then headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.
Ron's sister, Ginny, was a first year and she looked so excited that Merlin was afraid she might burst into tears when the hat called out Gryffindor.
⚡⚡⚡
It was a couple days later, when Merlin was grading the first few homework assignments, that he heard the voice.
Come… come to me… let me rip you… let me tear you… let me kill you…
He jumped and dropped his quill, spinning around in his seat. There was nobody else in the classroom, but Merlin couldn't let go of the sickening feeling that filled his chest.
There was no way he'd imagined that, right? It wasn't the first time that he'd heard a mysterious voice that he couldn't place in a castle, but this time it was something that was there that was calling out, not telepathy.
Something about the voice seemed… off… but Merlin couldn't place it. It was extremely late, and he'd been grading papers for nearly 6 hours at that point. He organized the papers on his desk and returned his quill to the ink pot, then, keeping an ear out, marched back to his chambers.
The voice was silent.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin was in the middle of one of his lectures for the first-years when he realized that Ginny Weasley looked dreadfully pale. At the end of class, he called her up to his desk. If it was possible, she appeared even paler.
"Ms. Weasley, do you know why I called you up?"
"No; Professor. Did you need help with anything?"
"No; I was going to ask you that. You seem awfully pale and I heard that the cold was going around. I just wanted to make sure that you'd been getting enough sleep and eating and drinking enough?"
"Oh, I'm fine, Professor. Thank you, though."
"Are you sure? I heard that Madam Pomfrey has a Pepperup potion that could help."
A little color came back to Ginny's cheeks in the form of a blush. "I'm fine, really. Thank you."
Merlin nodded. "If you need anything—class related or not—don't hesitate to come talk to me."
"Thank you, sir." Ginny said, and then she was gone.
⚡⚡⚡
The next time that Merlin heard the voice, it was Halloween.
Rip… tear… kill… soo hungry… for so long… kill… time to kill…
He'd been walking down a passageway, having left the Halloween feast early, but when he heard it, he froze. Footsteps started off, getting louder as the voice did.
Then, they started getting quieter.
I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!
Merlin, horrified, followed the footsteps to a nearly deserted passageway.
"Harry, what was all that about?" Ron asked. "I couldn't hear anything…"
Couldn't hear anything? But it'd been so loud! He was certain that the whole castle must have heard it.
"Look!" A sudden gasp from Hermione pulled Merlin out of his thoughts and he noticed something he hadn't before—on the wall, in blood-red letters, read the words, THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Hanging from a torch bracket by her tail was Mrs. Norris, immobile.
A noise not too different from thunder rumbled in the distance, and Merlin realized that the feast must have ended. Merlin walked over to the trio, who spun around in fright, wands at the ready.
"I swear, Professor Erwood, we didn't do this—" Hermione started. Merlin nodded absently, staring at the message. He barely even noticed the water seeping into his boots.
The hallway abruptly filled with students, like a drop of honey at a picnic being swarmed by ants. They froze and a hush fell over them, until it was broken by Crabbe exclaiming, "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
A year ago, Draco probably would have been the one to say that, but he just scowled at his so-called friend. Merlin couldn't help but feel a small surge of pride fill his chest, even in the situation that they were in.
"What's going on here? What's going on?" Filch pushed his way through the crowd, no doubt having been notified of the commotion by Crabbe's shout.
His gaze finally fell on his cat, and all of the blood drained from his face. He fell back in shock, then spun around, scanning the hall in anger. When he saw Harry standing there, almost alone in comparison to the rest of the students, he snarled at him, nearly spitting words out of his mouth.
"You! You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"
"It wasn't him." Merlin spoke softly, but it was loud enough for Filch to hear him.
"Oh? And how do you know that? He's had it out for me; he did this—"
"I was with him when he discovered her."
"Argus, Mabon, the three of you, please come with me." None of them had noticed Dumbledore's arrival, but he'd managed to detach Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.
"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—" Lockhart stepped forwards, seemingly eager to help.
"Thank you, Gilderoy." Dumbledore said, turning around and marching off to Lockhart's office. Lockhart chased after him like a lovesick puppy, and the rest of them—including McGonagall and Snape—followed him.
Dumbledore set Mrs. Norris down on Lockhart's desk after the candles had been lit.
Lockhart, hovering as the other teachers inspected the cat, suggested, "It was definitely a curse that killed her—probably the Transmogrifan Torture—I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her."
Merlin stifled laughter, and it appeared that Snape was doing the same. Dumbledore tapped Mrs. Norris with his wand, muttering spells under his breath, but nothing happened.
"I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," Lockhart went on. "A series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once…"
"She's not dead, Argus." Dumbledore announced, finally coming to the conclusion that Merlin had made.
Lockhart's voice cut out.
"Not dead? But why's she all—all stiff and frozen?" Filch's voice cracked.
"She has been Petrified." Dumbledore announced. "But how, I cannot say."
"Ask him," Filch shrieked, sounding similar to a banshee. Harry backed up against the wall and ran into the framed photos of Lockhart.
"No second year could have done this." Dumbledore said firmly. "It would take dark magic of the most advanced—"
"He did it! He did it!" Filch interrupted, his tearstained face scrunching up in anger.
Merlin resisted the urge to facepalm, but barely.
Filch accused Harry of doing it because he knew that he was a Squib, and Harry's indignant response of, "I never touched Mrs. Norris! And I don't even know what a Squib is!" did nothing to quell his fury.
"If I might speak, Headmaster," Snape started. "Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time." He glanced at Merlin. "Mabon here can attest to that."
Merlin nodded, wondering where this was going.
"But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all started to talk at once, explaining how they'd been at Sir Nicholas' deathday party.
"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape asked. "Why go up to that corridor?"
"They were coming to meet with me." Merlin said, getting tired of Snape's accusations. "Hermione had a question about one of the laws in Camelot during Uther Pendragon's reign and then Ron had a question about his homework, and you know how the three of them just tend to stick together."
Snape scowled at him, then retreated to the shadows.
"So you can see," Dumbledore said, "the boy has done nothing wrong. Innocent until proven guilty."
"My cat has been Petrified! I want to see some punishment !" Filch shrieked.
"We will be able to cure her, Argus. Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes."
Merlin's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't expected them to actually have real, live mandrakes—they were extremely dangerous, even before fully matured.
Lockhart offered to make it, leaning in close to look at Mrs. Norris. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"
"Excuse me," Snape said icily. "But I believe I am the Potions Master at this school."
Merlin nearly snorted aloud, but the rest of the room was absolutely silent—it was like Snape had stolen the voices of the others until Dumbledore dismissed the students.
"Did you want me here, Headmaster?" Merlin asked. "I never did get to answer their questions."
Dumbledore studied Merlin's face, then told him he could go. He walked in the direction that he assumed that the trio had gone and saw a door ajar.
He heard Harry say, "Do you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" then walked in.
"No, hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world." Ron answered, not having noticed Merlin walk in.
"I can hear them." They spun around to face him.
"Professor! I—" Hermione started.
"You're not in trouble, Ms. Granger. Relax. I just wanted to ask you something. When Harry heard the voice, did you hear anything at all?"
"No, sir. We couldn't hear the voice."
"I don't mean the voice. I mean—" Merlin broke off and sighed. "Next time he hears something, please listen to see what noises you can hear and tell me."
"Er… okay." Ron said.
"Professor," Harry asked. "What—exactly—is a Squib?"
Ron let out a laugh, then explained, "Well—it's not funny really—but as it's Filch—" He broke off when he saw Merlin's frown. "Sorry."
"A Squib is somebody who was born to magical parents but can't perform magic themself."
"Oh. Why would I attack his cat because of that?"
Merlin was about to open his mouth and explain when a clock chimed 12am. "You ought to get to sleep. If you have any other questions, you can meet with me before or after class, and whenever you see me in the halls."
"Okay, goodnight." Harry said, getting up to leave. "Wait—Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you lie?"
"I've no idea what you're referring to. Goodnight."
⚡⚡⚡
The next time that he had Ginny Weasley in his class, she looked extremely distraught. He called her up to his desk at the end of class again, but she didn't say what was wrong.
When he asked Ron, he told Merlin that she loved cats a lot—even cats as much of a menace as Mrs. Norris was.
"Make sure you check up on her every now and then and try not to bring it up around her, then."
Ron promised that he'd try to keep an eye on her.
⚡⚡⚡
Students had difficulty paying attention in his class. Most of them were too busy whispering about the Chamber of Secrets to pay attention to his lectures on the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards.
Finally, Merlin decided to do some research on it himself. All of the books in the library that would possibly have any information on it were booked, so he decided to call home and see what Arthur knew about it. He was far from being a wizard, but they'd both read many books throughout the years.
"Well, I've got… Hogwarts, a History here, but I'm pretty sure you've already read that."
"No, Arthur, you're brilliant! That definitely talks about the Chamber of Secrets. It probably won't go that in-depth, but there is something.
Arthur thumbed through the book and told Merlin everything that mentioned the Chamber of Secrets.
"I feel like I've read another book on it, or something." Arthur said. "This has next to nothing in it and I know that I've read more about it."
"Arthur?"
"Yes?"
"I don't need exact quotes."
"Yes, but that doesn't—"
After Merlin muttered "Dollophead" under his breath, Arthur recounted what he remembered about the Chamber of Secrets.
At one point, Arthur had looked up and realized that Merlin had fallen asleep to him explaining the Chamber of Secrets. He smiled softly, then wrote down what he could remember about the Chamber of Secrets on a spare piece of paper and tied it to the leg of an owl that Merlin had found halfway through summer.
She'd had a broken wing, so Merlin had taken her home to fix it up and she'd ended up staying.
He pet the owl—lovingly named after his sister—then sent her off to Hogwarts so that she'd deliver the note by morning.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin awoke to a tapping on his window. He blinked, then realized that he'd fallen asleep while his husband was talking to him. The mirror was laying next to him, glowing golden. Arthur must have ended the call when he realized that Merlin had fallen asleep.
Merlin flushed, then turned towards the source of the tapping. "Morgana!" He opened the window and let her come inside. She flew over to his bedpost and ruffled her feathers, then showed him the letter that Arthur had written.
He skimmed it and sighed in relief, then pet her head. A glance at his watch told him that it was only 6:48, so he had quite a lot of time before he had to do anything.
He ended the spell that allowed the mirror to work like a phone of sorts, then grabbed a stack of ungraded papers and set to work.
Before he knew it, he heard a clock signifying that it was time to go eat breakfast.
⚡⚡⚡
During class, Ms. Granger raised her hand. There was nothing odd about this action in of itself, but paired with the fact that he'd been in the middle of a lecture, it was surprising.
"Yes, Ms. Granger?"
"I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"
Merlin sighed. "How about this—if everybody is quiet for the rest of class, I'll spend the last ten minutes explaining what I know about it."
"That'd be wonderful, Professor. Thank you." Hermione leaned back, looking satisfied.
A bit later, Merlin finished talking about Nicholas Flamel's creation of the Philosopher's Stone. He was fairly certain that when Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron, the three of them looked outraged that this was in the curriculum this year and not last.
"So, what do you want to know about the Chamber of Secrets?"
"What exactly is it, sir?"
"There's a myth based around the fact that when the founders of the school were, well, founding the school, Salazar Slytherin wanted the school to be exclusively for all-magic families. After a while, Salazar and Godric Gryffindor got into an argument about this. Salazar left the school. This is all well-documented, and I believe that this information is all in Hogwarts, a History, but I could be mistaken."
The entire class had their eyes peeled open and were watching him. "According to legend, Salazar created a secret chamber within the castle."
Ron snickered. "It can't be too secret if everybody's heard of it."
Merlin smiled. "That may be true, but, even though many great wizards have searched the school, there has been no trace of the secret chamber. Apparently, Salazar sealed the chamber so that the only people who could open it were his descendants. His heir alone, supposedly, has the ability to open the chamber and release a monster upon the school and purge the school of those who he deemed unworthy to study here."
The class was silent, then everybody started talking at once. Hermione raised her hand. "Professor, do you have any idea what the monster is?"
"If there is a monster, then I have no clue what it is." The bell rang before he could add on, not that he necessarily had anything to add on.
Merlin overheard Harry speculate that a first year had said Harry was most likely Slytherin's heir and felt his stomach drop in pity. If anybody had paid any attention to what Slytherin cared about, it would be evident that Harry couldn't have opened the chamber—one of his best friends was from a non-magical family.
He happened to have to walk in the same direction as them, so when they stopped in the corridor that Mrs. Norris had been found in, he froze and turned himself invisible.
"Scorch marks!" Harry said. "Here—and here—"
"Come and look at this!" Hermione pointed at the window, where maybe twenty spiders were fighting to get through a small crack. "This is funny… have you ever seen spiders act like that?"
Harry told her that no, he hadn't, then turned to ask Ron if he had.
He was standing back a bit, looking terribly jumpy.
"What's up?" Harry frowned.
"I—don't—like—spiders," was Ron's terse response.
When Hermione pointed out that he used spiders in potions all the time, he added, "I don't mind them dead. I just don't like the way they move."
Harry changed the topic to spare his best friend. "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Somebody's mopped it all up."
Ron managed to recover well enough to walk over to a door. "It was about here." He was about to open the door when he recoiled as if he'd been stung.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked.
"Can't go in there; that's a girls' toilet."
Hermione assured him that nobody would be in there—Moaning Myrtle inhabited this bathroom, so it was out of order. She pushed open the door, and Merlin followed them inside.
Hermione greeted Myrtle but got a reply of, "This is a girls' bathroom. They're not girls."
Hermione stumbled over her response, and upset Myrtle a bit, but managed to calm her down enough to ask if she'd seen anybody suspicious around Halloween.
She said she hadn't; she'd been too depressed to even notice anything was going on.
Merlin sighed and snuck out of the bathroom. He froze when he saw Percy Weasley at the base of the stairs at the end of the corridor. He stood still for half a second, not wanting to make any noise that gave him away.
The door pressed up against his back, but he didn't move until Percy had walked away. As soon as he stepped aside, the door swung open behind him.
"That was weird," Ron said. "Nothing was jamming it." He peered at the door just to make sure he hadn't missed anything, then frowned and stepped away.
⚡⚡⚡
"Excuse me, Professor." Hermione walked up to his desk at the end of class, a small piece of paper in her hand. "I was wondering if I could check out this book from the library?"
"I'm not Madam Pince," Merlin replied, half a smirk on his face.
"I know, sir." Hermione laughed, though it sounded strained. "It's just that this book is from the restricted section, so I need a Professor's permission to check it out."
"What book is it?" Merlin asked, reaching for his quill. He'd expected her to say that it was a book on, for example, Cornelius Sigan—not Moste Potente Potions. He'd expected something at least slightly related to his class.
"Why do you need it?" He asked, letting his hand fall back onto the desk.
"I was just—I thought it'd be interesting and might help me gain a better understanding of potion-making. I've already read all of the non-restricted books about it. I'd ask Professor Snape, but he doesn't like me very much." She replied, stammering a tiny bit.
"I don't want you or your friends to get into any more trouble." Merlin replied. "I'm sorry, but I can't."
"Oh—okay. Thank you anyway, Professor."
She walked out the door, where Ron and Harry met her. At her face, they lost their smiles and their shoulders drooped.
She was a clever witch. He'd definitely need to keep an eye on her.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin went for a walk early Saturday morning. He'd been cramped in the school for ages, and needed to have some fresh air. Unfortunately, it was muggy.
By the time he got back inside the castle, it was nearly eleven, and he needed to get back to grading the fourth years' essays. Honestly, he didn't know why teachers gave out essays. They were so much harder to grade than a multiple choice paper and took up more of the students' time.
He'd rather just give them a huge multiple choice paper with a section for his students to add any information he hadn't asked for for extra credit.
They'd probably enjoy that more, too, but he was required to give them essays.
Every now and then he stopped grading to watch the Quidditch game out of his window, but it was difficult to see and not much appeared to be happening.
Soon enough, it started raining and he couldn't see anything when he looked out the window. A while later, he heard a ton of frantic footsteps run past his office. He set his quill down and opened the door only to see the rapidly retreating figures of the Gryffindor Quidditch team—minus Harry.
Curious, he followed them, locking his door behind him with barely a thought. He followed the wet footprints to the hospital wing, where he saw Harry Potter laying in a bed, his arm boneless and flopping to the side.
He sighed, cast a tiny charm so that he'd be nearly painless in the healing process, then turned and left.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin had been walking back from dinner—a tad late, but he'd been caught up in grading the essays still and hadn't gotten to the Great Hall until nearly everybody had finished eating—when he heard a mild commotion in the corridor ahead of him.
"Merlin's beard," Professor McGonagall exclaimed.
"What—er, what's wrong?" Merlin asked, racing over to where she was on the stairs. When he saw what—well, who— she was looking at, his heart dropped.
Colin Creevey, a first year who seemed awestruck by everything magical, was paralyzed, his camera up to his face.
"Do you want me to get the headmaster?" Merlin offered. "Or I'll take him to the hospital wing and you could get him?"
"No need for that." A gravelly voice sounded off from above them. "What's wrong—Merlin's beard; not again."
Merlin barely managed to stop himself from saying "What?" in response to hearing his actual name. "Do you want me to help carry him up?"
"Yes, yes." Dumbledore murmured, his mind elsewhere.
Merlin picked up the 11 year old gingerly and, after making sure that he wouldn't drop him, started carrying him up the stairs. It was a bit more difficult than it would have been if he were just unconscious, but Merlin had had to carry multiple swords like this when he was younger—much, much younger—and supposed it was mostly muscle memory.
McGonagall had run before him, so when he got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey already had a bed ready for Colin. Merlin set him down, then listened to McGonagall explaining how they'd found him to Madam Pomfrey.
"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" McGonagall asked eagerly. Dumbledore reached out to pry the camera from Colin's grip, but when he pulled open the back of the camera, a jet of steam hissed out and all Merlin could smell was burnt plastic.
He waved away the steam, which revealed completely melted film.
"What does this mean, Albus?" McGonagall asked.
"It means that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again." Dumbledore's words echoed across the huge room.
"But, Albus… surely… who?"
"The question is not who; the question is how…"
Again? Merlin wondered.
⚡⚡⚡
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before? " Arthur asked, scandalized. "If they knew it was real, why would they pretend it was just a legend?"
"I'm not sure," Merlin replied. "It would be much better for them to know the risk than to live on in ignorance. If they'd known that the Chamber was real and this wasn't some sort of cruel prank, Colin Creevey might not have been Petrified."
"I get that they didn't want them to be scared, but—" Arthur broke off and sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "They still should have told people."
A knock sounded on Merlin's door, startling him. "I love you. Got to go." Merlin ended the spell, shoved the mirror in his pocket, and called, "Come in."
"Professor Erwood? Sorry to interrupt, but I was just—who were you talking to?" Ginny Weasley made her way through the desks up to the front of the classroom.
"Oh, I was just talking to myself." Merlin replied, praying that Ginny hadn't heard what he'd said.
"Oh, okay."
"What did you want to see me about?"
"I was just wondering… is it true? Was Colin Creevey Petrified? I sit—I sit next to him in Charms."
"Unfortunately," Merlin sighed. "Did you want to talk? I understand how difficult it can be to lose somebody—even if they aren't actually dead, and even if you aren't that close."
"No, sir—actually, well—do you know if he'll be ok? It's just I'm really worried, and I heard that Mrs. Norris hasn't been un-Petrified yet."
"He should be; I heard that the second years were growing mandrakes in herbology, so Professor Snape should be able to make a mandrake restorative draught soon enough."
"Oh—thank you, Professor. That's—that's all." Ginny stumbled over her words, then left, seeming not much happier.
⚡⚡⚡
Sometime during the second week of December, Merlin heard that Snape's second year class had been interrupted by one of their swelling solutions exploding. He had a feeling that it was the class with Gryffindor and Slytherin, and decided to try to keep a closer eye on Harry Potter and his friends.
It couldn't be a coincidence that the potion had exploded due to a firework—most witches and wizards preferred to cast spells over using regular objects. Merlin assumed that the firework had been from one of Ron Weasley's older brothers.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin sighed when he heard the news of the dueling club. He knew that he would have to go, but he definitely didn't want to have to do any spell work in front of people. It was hard enough to do the small bit of magic that he did in front of people using the new religion, but dueling would create much more difficulty than he wanted—or needed—in his life.
Thankfully, none of the teachers asked him to help lead the club. He was invited to watch and/or help the students with their spells, but nobody brought up teaching them anything.
He sighed in relief, even though he was internally wondering if they thought he was a Squib. He avoided casting spells in front of people—especially teachers—due to not trusting that his eyes would stay blue.
Obviously some people—such as Harry Potter, due to having run into him while invisible, Ron Weasley, due to having missed the Hogwarts Express, and Hermione Granger, due to accounts from her friends—knew that he was quite powerful, but the general public had no clue.
He was planning on keeping it that way.
"Gather round, gather round! Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!" Merlin barely managed to stifle his snort upon finding out that Gilderoy Lockhart was running the club.
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club," Lockhart began.
Why, Merlin wondered. Why would he let him do this? He could seriously hurt somebody, or himself.
"… To train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on multiple occasions—for full details, see my published works." Merlin resisted the urge to snort. He was supposed to be teaching, not trying to persuade people to buy what he'd already made them get as part of their school supplies.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape." Lockhart smiled, all teeth. Snape looked as though he was eager to have a chance to cast a spell on Lockhart, even if it was only something temporary. Merlin almost wished that he'd been asked to be his assistant.
They bowed—Lockhart, showy as ever, twirling his hands and making sure everybody's eyes were on him, and Snape, stiff and looking furious, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement. They raised their wands in the "acceptable combative position", then Lockhart counted to three.
"Expelliarmus!" Snape's wand let out a dazzling scarlet color that blasted Lockhart off his feet, off the stage, and into a wall. He slid down it looking dazed, then got up, barely managing to stay upright.
"Well, there you have it!" Lockhart exclaimed. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I've lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show then that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see."
Snape's face twitched in thinly concealed anger.
"Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me, as well as you, Professor Erwood—"
Merlin moved amongst the crowd, pairing people up based off of their personalities—those who tended to be aggressive went together, those who tended to stay defensive went together, and those who tended to think outside the box went together.
Once everybody had a partner, he moved back to the edge of the Great Hall. As soon as Lockhart had counted to three, shouts echoed throughout the hall. Bright lights chased their opponents.
Almost nobody was just disarming their partner—Hermione Granger and Millicent Bulstrode weren't even using spells at that point, as Millicent had Hermione in a headlock.
"Finite Incantatem!" Snape shouted. Everybody but Hermione, who was whimpering in pain and Millicent, who might have been smirking, stopped moving. Then Harry leaped forwards to pull them apart. He seemed to be struggling, as she was much larger than he was, so Merlin cast a small charm that loosened her arms from around Hermione's neck.
Lockhart skittered throughout the frozen chaos like a mouse, giving unhelpful advice to those he passed by. "Dear, dear. I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells. Let's have a volunteer pair—Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you—"
Snape interrupted him, insulted both Neville and Justin, then voluntold Harry and Draco to show everybody how to do it.
"Excellent idea!" Lockhart exclaimed, giddy. "Now, Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this." Lockhart attempted a complicated sort of wiggle with his wand that Merlin was certain wasn't a real spell, then, after dropping his wand and coming up with an excuse to defend dropping his wand, ignored Harry's request for the spell to be repeated.
As soon as Lockhart had counted down, Draco bellowed, "Serpensortia!"
Harry didn't move a muscle as a long black snake fell out of the end of Draco's wand.
"Don't move, Potter." Snape said. "I'll get rid of it…"
He hadn't even had a chance to move before Lockhart exclaimed, "Allow me!" Mild panic crossed over Snape's face; Merlin was certain that he'd planned on being lazy in removing the snake, but he obviously didn't want the snake to go rogue.
A loud bang later, the huge snake had flown ten feet in the air and landed, hissing in anger, at Justin's feet. Merlin moved off the wall, well aware that he was halfway across the large room. He'd been about to cast a spell when Harry Potter's voice rang out—"Leave him alone!"—and the snake stopped their attack and slumped to the floor, docile.
"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin shouted and ran out of the hall, nearly knocking Merlin over. When Merlin glanced back at the stage, the snake was gone. Ron was pulling a confused Harry out of the room. The crowd drew away from them and, after a minute's hesitation, Merlin followed.
"You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?" Ron's voice was coming from an abandoned classroom.
"I'm a what?"
"A Parselmouth! You can talk to snakes!"
"I know," Harry said. "I mean, that's only the second time I've done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once—long story—but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to—that was before I knew I was a wizard—"
"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Ron repeated faintly.
"So? I bet loads of people here can do it." Harry argued.
"Not really," Merlin cut in. They hadn't realized that he was standing by the door. "I'm pretty sure you're the only other person I know who can do it."
"Other?" Ron asked. "Who else can do it, considering it's so rare?"
"I can, for one." Merlin replied. "Didn't really realize that most magical folk can't do it until now, though."
"Anyway, I'll go find Justin and tell him that you were just telling the snake to leave him alone."
"Thank you, Professor." Harry said.
"Oh, so that's what you said to it?" Ron asked as soon as Merlin had left the room.
Merlin sighed, then went off to find Justin.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin was on his way to the greenhouse when he saw Justin. He'd wanted to cast a small charm on the mandrakes to make sure that the temperature near the mandrakes wasn't too cold—even in this corridor, cold gusts of wind came in through a loose windowpane.
All thoughts of the mandrakes left his mind when he stumbled—quite literally—upon a Petrified Justin Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas. A small trail of spiders were scuttling away from the bodies.
A loud bang sounded off to his side, and Merlin gathered his magic in preparation for defending himself from whatever had opened the door. It ended up just being Peeves the Poltergeist, who stared at Merlin and the bodies in shock.
Merlin was certain that his eyes had been glowing golden.
"Peeves, get Professor McGonagall and tell her to go to the hospital wing."
Peeves turned and sped off. Merlin kneeled to pick Justin up and gently pushed a floating Sir Nicholas down the corridor with his magic, sure to keep his eyes down in case anybody ran into him.
When McGonagall arrived, her face was pinched.
"He was laying in the middle of the corridor. I'm not sure—I don't know how long he'd been there, but his skin was so cold."
"We should—we should go tell Albus." McGonagall said, her eyes not leaving Justin's face. Merlin gently pulled her away and closed the curtains around the bed so that she couldn't see Justin's stiff body anymore.
Once she couldn't seem him, her mind seemed to clear. She silently led him towards Dunbledore's office and said, "Lemon drop!" then climbed the staircase.
McGonagall knocked on the door and it opened, then she left, saying that she was going to see if anything had been left near where he'd found them. Dumbledore's office was full of old relics—some of which even Merlin couldn't recognize.
The thing that caught his eye the most, however, wasn't an object. A phoenix was sitting on a golden perch near the door. They appeared very ill; their feathers had lost their shine and were falling out, their eyes were dull and lifeless.
Merlin had never seen a phoenix be reborn, but he'd heard of their magical abilities so he was only a little shocked when, barely a second later, the bird was replaced with a fireball.
The next second, there was a pile of ash on the floor. Merlin had just crouched down to watch a newborn crawl out of the ash when he heard Dumbledore walk into the room.
"About time," was all he said.
"Headmaster," Merlin started. "There was another attack." When Dumbledore didn't react, he added, "Justin Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas have both been Petrified."
"Yes," Dumbledore said, gesturing at one of the many paintings on his wall. Merlin assumed that the witch in the painting had told him just before Merlin himself had arrived.
Merlin turned to look at the many portraits and froze when he saw one that was familiar.
She met his eyes and her face turned hard, then softened. She shook her head subtlety, as if to say, "I won't tell him who you are."
⚡⚡⚡
Almost everybody left the school for Christmas. The few that stayed seemed on edge and terrified, or just plain worried.
Draco had confessed to Merlin that he didn't want to go home for the holidays because his father had been getting harsher and harsher with people, even his own family. Before Draco had left for school, he'd heard his father give death threats to their house elf at least 8 times a day, if not more(Draco admitted that he had been just as bad before coming to History of Magic, but now the idea made his skin crawl).
Ginny Weasley seemed more and more distressed throughout the break, as the twins were constantly teasing Harry about being Salazar's heir. At one point, Merlin had pulled her aside and said that he'd tell them to stop if it bothered her that much, but she refused to let him intervene.
During Christmas dinner, Harry and Ron seemed extremely excited, whereas Hermione was shooting them looks of disapproval. Halfway through dessert, she rushed them out of the hall. Merlin excused himself—"I think I'm going up to rest now. Food coma, you know?"—then followed them, invisible.
"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," Hermione said. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe and Goyle's; they're Malfoy's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him."
"How are we going to do that? They're bound to leave the feast sometime."
"I've for it all worked out. I've filled these with a simple sleeping draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."
Harry and Ron looked at each other, incredulous, then said that they didn't think it would work out. Hermione met their eyes, then reminded them that the potion wouldn't work without their hair.
"Whose hair are you ripping out?" Harry asked, relenting.
"I've already got mine!" Hermione had managed to get the hair off of Millicent Bulstrode when they were wrestling at Dueling Club. She hadn't stayed for Christmas, so it would be as easy as persuading the Slytherins that she'd changed her mind.
Merlin hid by the door as the boys ran off to knock Crabbe and Goyle unconscious. As a teacher, he probably should have stopped them, but he was curious as to what Draco knew about the chamber—he obviously wasn't the heir, but he definitely knew more than he was saying.
Somehow, they came back saying that everything had gone as smoothly as Hermione had expected. Merlin completely zoned out while they consumed their potions and had to jump out of the way when they opened the door.
He quickly followed them down to the dungeons, where they ran into Percy Weasley. Merlin could hardly contain his surprise—even as a prefect, Percy had no reason to be down here other than Potions class, and it was quite clearly break.
Harry and Ron had just gotten into a fight with him when Draco's voice called out behind them. "There you are. Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something funny." Draco looked at Percy and his face hardened. "What are you doing down here, Weasley?"
"You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" Percy snapped. "I don't like your attitude!"
Draco sneered and turned, motioning for Harry and Ron to follow him.
"I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed."
Harry and Ron glanced at each other, excited by the mention of the Chamber of Secrets before they'd even asked about it.
"What's the new password again?" Draco asked Harry, who looked panicked. "Oh, yeah. It's pure-blood." He said the word in a monotonous voice, looking as if he wanted to crawl out of his skin.
The common room was long and had a low ceiling, where green lights were hung from chains. It seemed that Draco still detested the entire Weasley family with a passion, because he told them to wait there and then came back with a news clipping titled Inquiry at the Ministry of Magic.
Merlin read over Harry and Ron's shoulders—it was about how Arthur Weasley, Ron's father, had been found with a working enchanted car in his garage. The Daily Prophet hadn't been able to speak to him, but the writer of the article had pointed out how there was a loophole in the law—as long as he hadn't intended to use the car, it was perfectly acceptable to enchant it.
"Well?" Draco asked impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"
Harry laughed half-heartedly.
"Serves him right." Was all that Draco said on the subject.
Ron's face contorted in fury.
"What's up with you, Crabbe?"
"Stomachache."
"Well, go up to the hospital wing, then. You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. I hate to agree with him, but he's done nothing to stop these attacks. A decent headmaster would've warned people that he knew this could happen."
Harry and Ron said nothing.
"And, of course, he loves Potter. Saint Potter could never do anything wrong. And people think he's Slytherin's heir."
Ron seemed to be half a second away from jumping on Draco and beating him up. Merlin was pretty sure that the only thing holding him back was Harry.
"I wish I knew who it is." Draco continued.
"You must have some idea who's behind it all…" Harry said.
"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?" Draco snapped. "And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the chamber was opened either. Of course it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it and he says that it was kept all quiet and it would look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing—last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a mu—a muggleborn died. "
"D'you know if the person who opened the chamber last time was caught?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yeah… whoever opened it was expelled. They're probably still in Azkaban."
"… Azkaban?" Harry asked. Merlin realized that, having grown up with muggles, Harry must not have been aware of the existence of the prison.
"Azkaban—the wizard prison, Goyle." Draco sounded like Harry had spoken a different language. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."
"Right," Harry said.
Draco sighed. "You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?" He glanced at Harry and Ron, then continued speaking. "Yeah… They didn't find much. Father has some very valuable dark arts stuff, but he keeps it in a secret chamber of his own under the drawing-room floor."
Suddenly, Ron started turning back into himself. He exclaimed, "Ho!", then ran off saying, "Medicine for my stomachache." Harry chased after him.
Merlin bolted after them, hoping that he wasn't making a commotion. When they got back to the bathroom, Hermione was still in the same stall as earlier.
She yelled at them to go away, and Myrtle started giggling. "Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!"
She hadn't gotten Millicent Bulstrode's hair off of her robes. She'd gotten cat hair.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin taught first years last, and was mildly surprised to see that Ginny Weasley had stayed after the bell.
"Excuse me, Professor," she began, then stopped and started over. "Professor Erwood?"
"Yes, Miss Weasley?" Merlin asked, pushing the essays that the class had just turned in into a pile on the edge of his desk.
"Do you, er, remember how you said I could come to you if I needed anything?"
"Yes, of course. What's wrong?" It was only then that Merlin realized how pale Ginny was.
"I—" Ginny stepped forwards, then broke off. She pulled a small book out of her pocket and handed it to him, then turned and ran from the room, sobbing. Merlin was on his feet within seconds, but she was gone.
He picked up the book and realized that it was a diary—not hers, though. It was from fifty years ago, and had the name T. M. Riddle written on the inside cover.
It wasn't until several weeks later, in mid-February, that he realized what was so special about the book. Ginny had refused to meet his eyes at all during class for the past two months, making sure to get to class only when the bell rang and leaving as soon as she was dismissed.
Merlin had just finished grading papers and was talking to Arthur when Norbert had tried to force herself in through the window of their home. Merlin had nearly dropped his mirror in shock and ended up knocking over his ink pot in the chaos. Thankfully, it wasn't near any of the papers that he'd graded. Unfortunately, it had spilled all over the diary, which he'd had out to look at later.
Swearing, he picked the journal up. It was dripping with ink, and even the pages were soaked. He was staring at it in shock when suddenly the book started to dry on its own—the ink slowly fizzled into nothing, almost as if the book had absorbed it.
Merlin waved his hand and the rest of the ink on his desk vanished. "Arthur, look at this."
"Merlin… Did you really just knock your inkpot over everything and expect it to stay dry—why is that journal dry? Did you cast a spell on it?"
"No," Merlin replied. "I didn't…" Merlin picked up his quill and, using what was left of his ink, dropped a blotch on the paper.
Arthur didn't seem very impressed when it vanished.
"It's weird," Merlin murmured, fascinated. "It's almost as if—" Merlin yanked his hand back, as if stung, and stood up so quickly that it took a second for Arthur to understand what was happening.
"Merlin? What just happened?"
"I don't…" Merlin carefully picked the diary back up and flipped through the pages. "Is the name 'T. M. Riddle' familiar to you at all?"
"Vaguely? It seems familiar but I'm not sure why."
Merlin held up the inside cover of the diary and showed Arthur the initials. "This was his, fifty years ago."
Arthur squinted at the text, then shrugged. "Okay? I don't get—fifty years ago? Meaning he was a student the last time the chamber was opened?"
Merlin nodded. "And… whatever spell has been cast on this, it's powerful. And it feels dark."
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin had just left the Great Hall when he heard the voice again.
Kill this time… let me rip… tear…
He glanced around the corridor and saw Harry, Hermione and Ron standing at the base of the stairs. Hermione clapped a hand to her forehead, said something to them, and ran off.
Merlin tried to get over to them to ask what had just happened, but the crowds blocked his way and by the time he got to the steps, they weren't in sight.
Merlin sighed, then turned around to head out to the Quidditch pitch. He still hadn't really gotten to see a game and was finally free—McGonagall came marching over to the players with a huge purple megaphone—Merlin sighed and made his way down over to her.
"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"
"What happened?"
She glanced over at Merlin, then gestured for Harry to come over. "I'll explain in a minute. Would you get Mr. Weasley for me and then meet us at the hospital wing?"
"Sure," Merlin agreed, then turned around to find Ron. He was already on his way over.
Merlin wasn't even surprised to learn that there was a double attack (he was, however, surprised to see that they'd had mirrors with them. As far as he knew, Hermione didn't pay too much attention to her appearance).
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin went back to his office and had to do a double take. The papers that had been on his desk were scattered across the floor, his quills lay haphazardly on their sides, and there was ink spilled everywhere.
Merlin rushed into the room to assess the damage. Nothing was destroyed unless you counted his desk being stained, but it would take a while to clean up. It was only once he'd reorganized everything that he realized what was missing.
He closed and locked the door in a panic, then heard two voices in the hall. It was definitely Harry and Ron. Hoping that they hadn't seen him yet, he turned invisible and tried to follow them based off of the noises that they were making.
He followed them outside, panicking over the missing diary the whole time. They made their way down to Hagrid's hut.
"He went to school here fifty years ago," Harry whispered. "He's got to know something about the Chamber of Secrets, or at least the attacks."
When they knocked on the door, it was opened to Hagrid pointing a crossbow at their chests. "Hagrid! What's that for?"
"Nothin'—Nothin'—I've bin expectin'—doesn' matter—sit down—I'll make tea—What're you two doin' here?"
"Are you okay, Hagrid?" Harry asked. "Did you hear about Hermione?"
"Oh, I heart, all righ'," Hagrid said, his voice breaking. He was checking the windows every few seconds, panicked. He had just given them tea minus the tea bags and fruitcake when there was a knock at the door.
After checking that Harry and Ron were hidden, he picked the crossbow back up and opened it.
"Good evening, Hagrid." Dumbledore was on the other side of the door, Cornelius Fudge at his side. Merlin had no idea why anybody would ever name their child Cornelius. The name had been tarnished for him by Cornelius Sigan, and while, yes, nobody else in the magical world had met him, they were all aware of what he'd done.
"That's Dad's boss!" Ron whispered. Merlin looked at him, panicked, then heard a slight grunt of pain. Harry must have told him to shut up.
Fudge was telling Hagrid that there were four attacks on muggleborns already, as if Hagrid didn't know that.
"I never," Hagrid started, panicked. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir—"
"Hagrid has my full confidence," Dumbledore promised Fudge, frowning.
That didn't stop Fudge from taking him, promising that it was only a precaution.
A third person walked into the house—Harry obviously knew who he was, for he gasped, but Merlin couldn't recognize him from anywhere.
Hagrid seemed to know him as well, for he snapped, "Get outta my house!" as soon as he saw him.
The man assured Hagrid that he didn't want to be there, either, then turned to Dumbledore. "I simply called the school and was told that the headmaster was here."
"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" Dumbledore asked, his tone calm despite the fire burning in his eyes.
So that was who this was. Draco's father, every bit the… nightmare… that Merlin had expected.
Everybody in the room looked alarmed when Lucius announced that there was an Order of Suspension for Dumbledore. Even Fudge looked horrified—"Oh, now, see here, Lucius; Dumbledore suspended—no, no—last thing we want just now."
"The appointment—or suspension—of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge." Malfoy said, showing the long roll of parchment to the minister yet again. All twelve signatures were on it.
Before they left, Dumbledore managed to subtlety let Harry and Ron know that if they needed help, it would always be given to them so long as they were at Hogwarts—whatever that meant. Merlin wasn't even sure how he'd known that Harry and Ron were there.
Hagrid told them to follow the spiders so that they'd understand what was happening, and asked them to take care of Fang for him.
Merlin had no idea how Fudge and Malfoy were so daft, honestly.
⚡⚡⚡
After making sure that Harry and Ron had made it back to the castle, Merlin took off into the Forbidden Forest, a sphere of glowing blue light showing the way.
The deeper he got into the forest, the larger the spiders were. They made his skin crawl, but he forced himself to keep after them. After a while, he made it to an area where the mixture of branches and webs was so thick that he couldn't see more than a few feet away from him.
A branch broke off to his side and he spun around. "Who's there?"
"A sorcerer… " A voice hissed.
"Kill it…" Whispered another.
"Who's there?" Merlin repeated, not letting his voice shake.
The blue orb transformed into a bright white flame. Spiders hissed and scuttled back in fear.
"Aragog…" a voice said. "Come out…"
Something touched the back of Merlin's head and he spun around, thrusting the fire at it. A huge spider was behind him, screeching in pain.
"What are you doing here?" A voice asked, slow and much deeper than the rest.
"I've come to ask you something."
"Then ask… or die"
"Well, er, you know Hagrid, right?"
"Yes…" Aragog clicked.
"He's been, er, arrested."
"Arrested?"
"Yes. They think that he's been—from what I understand, they believe that he's been attacking students from non-magic families."
"That was years ago…" Aragog replied. Merlin's heart sank. Hagrid had actually opened the Chamber of Secrets all of those years ago? "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that I was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the chamber and set me free."
"Well do you know what the monster is? " Merlin asked.
"The thing that lives in the castle…" said Aragog, "is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school."
"Okay, but what is it?"
"We do not speak of it!" Aragog snapped. "We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times—especially after the girl died."
"Well if you don't want to say what it is, can you at least tell me how—or where—she died?"
"My patience grows thin…" Aragog replied, clicking angrily. "She was discovered in a bathroom… that is all I know…"
"I see. Thank you. I'll be leaving now."
"Leaving? I think not…"
Merlin narrowed his eyes and the flame in his hand brightened. He thrust his hand out and spiders scampered away from him. "Don't test me."
"Leave now… and never return…" Aragog clicked.
Merlin turned and walked away. Once he got out of the spiders' home, he ran, not wanting to get into a fight with anything this late at night.
⚡⚡⚡
Three days before exams, McGonagall announced that the mandrakes were ready for the restorative draught. Merlin sighed in relief.
Teachers still had to take their students from class to class, so Merlin was just getting back to his classroom when he heard Lockhart blathering on.
"Mark my words; the first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be 'It was Hagrid.' Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all of these security measures are necessary. I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…"
"It's not awfully difficult," Merlin said. "You just have to spend a little less time getting ready in the morning."
Most of the students stifled laughs. Lockhart looked flustered and turned on his heel then marched away.
"Professor?" Harry asked. "I was—well, we were wondering if we could—if we could visit Hermione? I know she's Petrified still, but—" His voice broke.
"I'll walk you to the hospital wing after class," Merlin suggested. "Would that work?"
"Er—yes, thank you, Professor."
⚡⚡⚡
After class, Merlin lead his students back to their common rooms, then led Harry and Ron to the hospital wing. "Tell Madam Pomfrey that I gave you permission," Merlin said, then disappeared down a hallway. He wanted to give them some space.
Merlin was making his way back to his office when he heard McGonagall voice, magically magnified, echoing throughout the corridors. "All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please."
Merlin was the first one in the staff room. McGonagall was the last to arrive. Her face was paler than Merlin had ever seen it before.
"It has happened. A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the chamber itself."
Several of the teachers gasped.
"How can you be sure?" Snape asked, gripping the back of a chair hard enough that Merlin was surprised his fingers didn't break.
"The heir of Slytherin left another message," McGonagall said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "Right underneath the first one. 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.'"
"Who is it?" Madam Hooch asked. "Which student?"
"Ginny Weasley."
Merlin felt his stomach drop. She'd looked so pale all year—sure, he hadn't known her before she came to Hogwarts and this was her first year, but he should have told somebody. What if he could have stopped this?
"We shall have to send all of the students home tomorrow," McGonagall said. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…"
Suddenly, the door slammed open. The teachers grabbed their wands and got into defensive positions.
"So sorry—dozed off—what have I missed?" Lockhart was beaming.
"Just the man," Snape nearly hissed. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."
Lockhart's smile faltered.
"That's right, Gilderoy." Sprout added. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the Chamber of Secrets is?"
"I—well, I—"
"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" Flitwick said.
"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested. Didn't you say that the whole affair has been bungled, and that you should have been given free reign from the first?" Snape met Lockhart's eyes.
"I—I really never—you may have misunderstood—"
"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy. Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free reign at last."
Merlin couldn't believe his ears. They were going to let a man die just because he was full of himself?
"V—very well. I'll—I'll be in my office, getting—getting ready." Flustered, he backed out of the room. Merlin could hear him running down the corridor.
"Right," McGonagall sighed. "That's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."
⚡⚡⚡
It was dark by the time Merlin had spoken to Arthur and decided to go help Lockhart. The door was wide open and both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were inside.
"Are you going somewhere?"
Merlin turned invisible, then slipped inside the office.
"Er, well, yes. Urgent call—unavoidable—got to go—" Lockhart said, stripping his office of his belongings.
"What about my sister?" Ron demanded.
Lockhart apologized profusely, saying that it was a shame, but he couldn't do anything. Then he admitted that he hadn't actually done anything that he said he'd done in his books.
Merlin was ready to beat him up by the time he pulled his wand on the boys. Luckily, Harry disarmed him before Merlin had even moved a muscle.
Harry forced Lockhart to his feet. "You're in luck. We think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Let's go." The three of them marched to the corridor where Mrs. Norris had originally been found, Merlin following close behind.
Harry pushed open the bathroom door and shoved Lockhart in. Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the toilet at the end of the row.
"Oh, it's you. What do you want this time?"
"To ask you how you died."
⚡⚡⚡
Myrtle directed them in the direction of the sink that she'd died at. Harry and Ron rushed over to it, then started closely inspecting every inch of it. Harry tried to turn one of the taps and Myrtle giggled.
"That tap's never worked."
"Harry, say something. Something in Parseltongue."
Harry hesitated for some reason, then said, "Open up."
Ron shook his head. "English."
Then, "Open up."
The tap began to glow a brilliant white and spun, then the sink sank into the ground, leaving a pipe large enough for a human to fit in exposed.
"I'm going down there," Harry said, staring into the darkness in determination.
"Me too," Ron said. He looked scared, but as if his fate didn't matter.
A pause.
"Well, you hardly seem to need me. I'll just—" Lockhart put his hand on the door knob.
Within seconds, Harry and Ron had their wands pointed at him. "You can go first," Ron said, hatred leaking into his voice.
"Boys," Lockhart said, approaching the pipe. "Boys, what good will it do?"
Harry prodded him with his wand and Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.
"I don't really think—" Ron pushed him, and he slid out of sight. Harry followed quickly, lowering himself into the pipe, then letting go. Ron went a few seconds later, and then Merlin went, trying his best to be silent.
When he reached the bottom, Harry's wand was lit and they were staring into the darkness ahead.
"Remember," Harry was saying, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away."
Of course, Merlin realized. A snake. Petrification. A mirror. It was a basilisk.
Merlin heard a crunch under their feet up above and saw hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny animal skeletons littering the ground.
"Harry—there's something up there—" Ron grabbed Harry's shoulder. All of them froze.
"Maybe it's asleep," Harry said. Merlin squinted, but it was much too dark in the tunnel for him to see what they were talking about.
Harry raised his wand and a huge snakeskin—at least six meters long—lay across the floor. It was a vivid green that Merlin assumed would fluoresce.
"Blimey," Ron said weakly.
Suddenly, Lockhart fell to the ground.
"Get up," Ron commanded, pointing his wand at his professor.
Lockhart got to his feet, then attempted to dive at Ron. A rock fell on his head, definitely not from a spell that Merlin had cast.
"Just leave him there," Harry sighed. "Let's go on."
The tunnel turned several times, then ended at a wall on which two serpents were carved, twining around each other.
"Open."
The serpents parted and the wall cracked open. Merlin gingerly stepped around an unconscious Lockhart and followed the two of them inside.
They were standing at the end of a long, dimly lit chamber. Merlin walked silently behind them; their footsteps echoed loudly off the dark walls.
A huge statue stood at the end of the chamber. It was Salazar Slytherin; his beard almost reached his feet and his robes were almost serpentine in nature, what with the way that they twisted and swept across his body.
At his feet lay Ginny Weasley.
"Ginny!" Harry and Ron raced over to her while Merlin stood back a bit, studying the chamber, making sure that the basilisk was nowhere near.
"Ginny—don't be dead—please don't be dead—" Harry threw his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and, with the help of Ron, turned her over. Her face was paler than it had ever been.
"Ginny, please wake up." Harry muttered desperately.
"She won't wake." A new voice made Merlin's eyes draw back to the students. Another boy, maybe a few years older than them, stood there.
"Who are you? What do you mean she won't wake?" Ron pointed his wand at him, shaking with anger and fear.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you; look at the state of your wand. She's alive, but only just."
"Who are you?" Ron repeated.
"My name," the boy said, "is Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked, for the boy's figure was blurry at the edges.
"A memory," Riddle replied. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years." He pointed at the ground a few meters away from them, where a very familiar diary lay.
"Please help us, Tom." Harry said. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk… I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment… Please, help us—"
Riddle didn't move. Harry and Ron managed to pick Ginny up, but when Harry leaned over to pick up his wand, it was gone.
"Did you see—?" Harry started. Riddle was twirling his wand through his fingers.
"Thanks," Harry said, reaching out to take it.
Riddle smiled and continued to twirl the wand idly.
"Listen," Harry pleaded. "We've got to go. If the basilisk comes—"
"It won't come until it is called."
"What d'you mean?" Ron demanded.
"Look, give me my wand, I might need it—" Harry repeated.
"You won't be needing it."
"What d'you mean, I won't be—"
"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter. For the chance to see you. To speak to you."
"Look," Harry said hotly. "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets . We can talk later—"
"We're going to talk now," Riddle said, smiling brightly.
Merlin moved closer. His foot hit a rock, which skittered across the floor. Riddle's head snapped towards him, studied the area he was standing, then seemed to decide that it was just a mouse or something small.
"How did Ginny get like this?" Harry asked slowly, ignorant to Riddle being distracted.
"Well, that's an interesting question. And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."
"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded.
"The diary," Riddle said, gesturing vaguely to the ground where it lay. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes—how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand books and robes and books, how—" Riddle smiled even broader, "—how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…"
Ron all but snarled in anger, pulling his sister closer to his chest.
"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl, but I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. 'No one's ever understood me like you, Tom… I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in… It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…"
Riddle laughed, a cold, sharp sound that didn't suit a teenager.
"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted… I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"
"What d'you mean?" Ron demanded. "What have you done to her?"
Riddle flared his nose at being interrupted. "Haven't you guessed yet? Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four mudbloods, and the squib's cat."
"No," Harry and Ron said, almost at the same time.
"Yes," Riddle said. "Of course she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing." He went on to recount Ginny's panic at not knowing what she'd done at certain points in the day, coming back to herself covered in feathers or paint. "It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny—"
"Do not call her that," Ron snarled.
"For stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," Riddle carried on. "There was a time where she didn't leave me messages for months . And then, one day, she did again. She'd suddenly panicked, decided that she couldn't trust her History Professor with all of her secrets if he managed to figure out how the diary worked."
Riddle smiled coldly, then explained how he'd gotten Ginny to write her own death message on the wall and gotten her to climb down into her grave. "And now I'm here," he finished, "and I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."
Ron had gone silent, holding his sister to his chest. Harry was standing above them both protectively despite not having a weapon.
"Like what?"
"Well," Riddle said, "How is it that you— a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent—managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?" The last few words came out as a hiss.
"Why do you care how I escaped? Voldemort was after your time…"
"Voldemort," Riddle said, "is my past, present, and future."
Merlin suddenly realized why the name T. M. Riddle seemed so awfully familiar, but it was much too late.
Riddle held out Harry's wand and traced it through the air, leaving shimmering letters behind—his name, glowing softly in the dark chamber. He waved it and the letters rearranged, forming a sentence— I am Lord Voldemort.
"You see?" He whispered, then went ahead to explain how it had already been his name with his closest friends, how he couldn't wait to dispose of his father's name. "I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"
Merlin couldn't help but laugh at that, and decided to let his spell fizzle out. "You're not a sorcerer, and you're not even the greatest wizard alive."
Harry and Ron jumped in shock while a nasty look crossed over Riddle's face.
"Professor Erwood?" Ron asked in wonder.
"Harry, Ron, get yourselves and Ginny out of here."
"I don't think—" Riddle raised Harry's wand, then froze.
Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and helped pick Ginny back up, then the two of them ran out of the chamber, glancing behind them every few seconds.
Merlin let his spell fall apart.
"Who are you?" Riddle snarled, holding out Harry's wand in a defensive position.
"The greatest sorcerer in the world," Merlin replied, a small smile gracing his lips. A second later, the diary was in his hands. "You know, I had this in my possession for a few months. Didn't really have time to look at it until mid-February. Almost immediately recognized it for what it was."
"And what is that?" Riddle asked, fear barely concealed in his voice. "A simple diary used to preserve a memory of me for fifty years."
"Not quite," Merlin replied. "A simple diary, yes, but I don't think that you're a mere memory. Perhaps a fragment of a soul, preserved with the murder of an innocent girl."
"That's ludicrous," Riddle said, forgetting that he had a wand in his hand. "That's not—"
"A horcrux; an attempt at immortality. Let me tell you this… immortality isn't everything." Then Merlin's hand caught fire, a bright white scattered with blue. Ink dripped down his arm and Riddle screamed, and screamed, and screamed and then—silence.
⚡⚡⚡
Merlin got back to the base of the pipe to find Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lockhart standing there, looking worried.
"Well?" Merlin asked. "Did you need help getting back up?"
"Professor Erwood! You're alright."
"Yes," Merlin agreed, softening. "Oh—Harry, here, before I forget." Merlin handed Harry his wand, then held out his arm to them. "Are you ready?"
Harry looked baffled for a second, then grabbed onto Merlin's arm. Ron followed him, then Ginny and Lockhart, albeit confused. A second later they were in the girls' bathroom.
"That was—that wasn't unpleasant." Harry said, confused. "And wait, I thought you said that you couldn't Apparate on and off of school grounds?"
"That wasn't Apparating." Merlin said, then gestured for them to follow him. He arrived at McGonagall's office and knocked gently.
The door was pulled open and McGonagall's jaw dropped in shock. Then, a scream broke the silence.
"Ginny!" A woman with red hair, possibly the Weasleys' mother, ran towards Ginny and threw her arms around her. A man was right behind her, and he too hugged Ginny.
Merlin watched the scene in front of him with an emotion he couldn't quite describe; they looked so happy and he was relieved that Ginny was safe, but a rotten feeling filled his core. Envy .
⚡⚡⚡
Later that day, Merlin had gone up to visit Dumbledore, who had just gotten back to the school. When he was leaving the office, he noticed Lucius Malfoy. Trailing behind him was a house elf riddled with wounds.
Merlin nearly threw up at the sight—the idea that anybody could treat another living thing like that made him nauseous. He nearly ran into Draco when he came out into the corridor.
"Oh, Draco, your—your father is over there, if you wish to see him."
"No, th—actually, is Dobby with him?"
"Dobby?" Merlin asked, his heart dropping as he realized that if the house elf was Dobby, then Draco had treated him that way as well.
"He's, er, he's a house elf."
"I believe so," Merlin replied warily.
"Okay, thank you, Professor." Draco chased after the direction his father had gone off in. When he came back less than a minute later, Dobby was wrapped around his leg, holding something as though it was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.
Draco was missing his tie.