The great information that was supposed to be given in the side chamber was utterly useless and was overall just a grand waste of time, as expected. It was just a convenient way to take a group photograph of the Champions.
I don't think I have ever darted out of a room as fast as I did when we were allowed to leave. Despite the horrendous stuff I would have to endure in the tournament, there still were some perks to being a champion. Especially a fourth-year champion. All others would have to attend classes, do homework and take their exams, because it is their NEWT year.
Meanwhile, I am free to skip classes as much as I want. Don't get me wrong, Hermione will still force me in some classes, but overall, I would have a much tamer schedule. This would allow me to do my personal training away from Hermione and Ron's prying eyes
As I walked through the now barren Great Hall, I felt a surge of excitement for the future. So much free time— for learning, practicing and rituals. My destiny was in my hands. My legs walked, as if on autopilot, while my brain thought of all the possibilities, and before I knew it I was in front of the Gryffindor common room's entrance, The Fat Lady.
"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?"
A lady who had been present in one of the side chamber's portraits was standing along with the Fat Lady.
"Balderdash," I said.
"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch (Violet) indignantly.
"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry into the common room.
The blast of noise that met my ears when the portrait opened almost knocked me backward. Next thing I knew, I was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.
"Everybody! Give it up for Hogwarts first Champion!" bellowed Fred; he looked deeply impressed.
"We have won so many bets! Brilliant!" roared George.
Angelina had now swooped down upon him; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor —"
"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers.
"We've got food, Harry, come and have some —"
Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around me like a cloak. I couldn't get away; whenever I tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around me closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on me, stuffing crisps and peanuts into my hands. . . It was a riot. Finally, after much effort and insisting, I managed to climb up the boy's dormitories' stairs, almost flattening the younger Creevey brother in the process.
To my great relief, I found Ron lying on my bed in the otherwise empty dormitory, style fully dress, and hopefully less jealous than last time since there were no age lines this time.
"Where've you been?" I asked.
"Oh hello," said Ron.
"So," he said, when I had finally removed the banner that was draped on me and threw it into a corner. "Congratulations."
His smile was a little strained, but I could see that he was actually happy for me. He was not going to act jealous like last time… A bubble of relief and happiness formed inside me.
"Thanks, Ron," I said.
"So… when did you put your name…" He asked. "You know… In the Goblet…"
"Last night… I snuck out and entered my name," A small glint of understanding shone in his eyes.
"Ah… Gotcha…"
The next day, I had woken up early… and in a pretty dramatic fashion, I had been cutting the names of classes from my schedule. I suddenly heard a horrified shriek, "What are you doing!"
"Updating my schedule," I told Hermione who was standing a feet from me in the common room, her face a mix of horrified and confused.
"What do you mean—Updating?"
"As a Triwizard champion, I don't need to attend all the classes."
"What!" Ron, who had just descended the boys' side staircase exclaimed, a hint of jealousy in his voice.
"I would use the time from… History of Magic… Herbology…Some Care of Magical Creatures… Charms and transfiguration theory and no… that's it…" I concluded. "I will spend the time researching spells and practicing."
This line of thought by me seemingly palliated Hermione.
"What about Potions?" Ron asked.
"Yeah… I will continue Potions," I said and got a look of approval from Hermione. "Can't give Snape more reason to hate me… also I gotta improve my Potions… It is a necessary subject and I want to continue it for NEWTS."
After some small adjustment, my schedule was ready. The three of us then slid out of the portrait hole and started making our way to the Great Hall. Maybe in my last life, I would have been embarrassed to face my housemates… and the rest of the schools… and the foreign students. But honestly, now I don't care. That's what experience does— Makes you numb to bullshit.
The sparsely filled Great Hall, as we entered, fell into excited chitter-chatters as we entered and settled at a secluded region of the Gryffindor table. I could sense my eyes reading and gauzing me—Judging my worthiness. A small smile instinctively tried to make its way on my lips, but I suppressed it.
"So—What do you have to do?" Hermione asked, "You know, as a champion."
"Well, as you have probably already read," I gave a small teasing smirk, "In Hogwarts: A History."
Ron snorted while taking a sip of his juice while Hermione glared.
"The champions would have to compete in three competitions." I tried my best to explain in an elaborate fashion. "As far as I could conclude from my research… In the first round, the champions usually have to retrieve some clues for the next task… And it is also supposed to check your bravery and quick thinking. The second round usually depends on champions' planning and preparation as well as magical prowess and knowledge. In both the first and second task, we are assigned points based on our performance. These points decide who will get to start first in the last task, which is generally some kind of race."
Hermione nodded, impressed by my research, "That actually… makes quite a lot of sense." She poked her soup with a spoon, "Yeah… that's actually a pretty good deduction of everything that was given in—"
"Hogwarts: A History, yeah we get it," Ron said much to Hermione's ire.
After a while we were all watered and fed and stood up. I checked my Schedule… "Oh.. It's Herbology. Yeah… I am skipping this…"
"Really Harry?" Hermione sighed and I just stared at her.
"Yeah," I simply said, "I am getting privileges, and I will use them to their fullest."
And so, as a slightly irritable and a groaning friend of mine left for Herbology, I made my way towards the room of requirement.
THERE IS ONLY POWER AND THOSE TOO WEAK TO SEEK IT—
I had heard that phrase before… From Voldemort himself. Today though… Today I found that the words were not his. His words were just a cruel twisting of Salazar's. A cruel mocking of a misunderstood and broken founder
'I was too weak, everyone around me was dying… My only son had abandoned me, just like I had abandoned Helga, Godric and Rowena. I wished for death… but I still desired the world…'
As I continued reading his Journal, I felt a raw connection form with the Founder. He was a terrible man, no doubt. He lost his humanity in pursuit of power and control. He was a bigot and ruthless man. But he was also a man who was ready to sacrifice the world to protect his magical brethren.
'I felt the pain of a thousand needles pricking me… It hurt like nothing else ever had…' There were tear stains on the page, 'Godric is dead. Rovena is bedridden… Helena has run away with her mother's Diadem; my son has gone to bring her back… Everything was falling apart. I needed to return to Hogwarts. I needed to save my legacy… I needed to protect and teach the children, and I needed to support Helga.'
The story kept on getting darker and darker. I reached for a table and the Room and Requirement immediately conjured one, allowing my hands to rest. I stared at the Journal and picked it up again.
'The forest was dark… I called for my dearest… my wife… My lovely Eveline… My poor wife, cursed for having me as her husband. She was cursed with a fate worse than death. She suffered a maledictus. I needed to hear her, to understand her… to tell her how much I still loved her, even as a snake. I scoured across the world… from the land of the rising sun to the land of the nomads, from the land beyond Indus to the never ending deserts… I searched. From the Alps to the land of Francs… And then… somewhere in the land below Macedon and Epirus… Somewhere in a dark cave where they worshiped nothing but death and magic… I found my solution.'
I read the gruesome description of what happened. I read how he created the ritual to speak, understand and use the tongue of snakes. The world was his playground as he lost his senses while creating spells and rituals that stretched beyond the lines of darkness and chaos. He created the darkest curses known to man, some of which would remain unmatched for a long time… But worst of all, he did something unimaginable… He, in an attempt to immortalize his wife… converted her into the king of serpent… The monster of Slytherin.
My heart was pounding against my chest, and my hand was shivering. Shakily, I brought the Journal I had thrown to the other side of the room, back in front of me.
'Godric is dead, Ravenclaw is dead, Helena is dead and has decided to linger, Baron—My adopted son, is dead and has decided to linger. My wife is the queen of snakes… My sons have all left. My daughter has gone and married one of those mundanes. Only me and Helga are normal… At least as normal as we can be.'
The story has started getting tamer and tamer, almost melancholy. My hands didn't shake as I held the journal. I turned the page and realized that I was on the last page of Slytherin's personal biography.
'From fire fueled by tormented souls to protection capable of burning empires, I have learned everything… Yet I feel Hollow… Death is imminent. I have killed, tortured and done so much worse… It dwarves all the good. I hope Hogwarts forgets me… I hope no one knows who I am in the future. Listen oh my descendent, I am Salazar Slytherin, the first of the last. I hope you read this and never repeat my mistakes. I hope… you become weak… and stop yearning for power and the world… I hope… I hope the darkness that clouded me won't cloud you. My wife… My Eveline… She was a seer… She saw so many futures… but never knew who was great and who was dark— Who is Morgana, who is Ekrizdis? Who is Merlin? Who is Godelot? Who is Andros? Who is Herpo? Who are the Peverell Brothers? Who is Alberta Toothill? Who is Grindelwald? Who is Nicholas Flamel? Who is Albus Dumbledore? Who is Tom Marvolo Riddle? Who is Voldemort? Who is Harry Potter?...'
'I have no answers… I have heard all these names being muttered while she sleeps. I fear the future. I fear my knowledge… But knowledge shall never be destroyed. Listen my child… My descendant… Take my knowledge… and be stronger than me… and if sometimes… you feel repulsed by it… you are stronger than me…'
Salazar Slytherin
I sat still for a minute, unable to process everything I had read in the last fifteen or so pages. Wow… Just wow. Two thousand years ago… his wife was able to see the future this far. Suddenly a realization came… That's why Voldemort attacked my parents instead of Neville's. Our fate was written and intertwined two millennia ago.
I turned the page of the Journal—'Basic Principles before Magical Learning' was the heading. I was going to learn from the first dark wizard of this age. And so I read everything with fervor.
I felt exhausted, not physically or magically, but emotionally. And so, I decided to join Ron and Hermione for the Care of Magical Creature class. The journal had been a little too much.
I gave Ron and Hermione the excuse that I wanted to tell Hagrid about my change in schedule personally. They seemed to buy this, luckily for me. As we reached near Hagrid's hut, I internally cursed. We shared this class with Slytherin's. Personally, the only problem I had with them, at least among my year's students, were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott. And even among these, the main prick was Draco.
Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place. "Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within my earshot. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt, he's going to be around much longer. . . . Half the Triwizard champions have died . . . how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, but Malfoy had to stop there. Well he didn't but if he hadn't my glare would have turned into a particularly nasty smoky black curse. Thankfully, for him, he took the signs. Though I did have to prevent Ron from pummeling Malfoy the muggles style.
Thankfully, Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt.
I was regretting coming to this class.
The following days were some of the most surreal I have ever had. Last time, they had been bad, and I remembered this fact. But this was the complete opposite. Everyone stared at me as if I was Merlin reincarnated, some professor eyes' even glinted when they looked at me. Not even a single Slytherin has tried messing with me since Malfoy did in Care. Overall, everything was going great with my peers and friends.
On the other hand, every time I practiced Occlumency, or Slytherin's Journal or that journal I had found in ROR, I would be exhausted. All three of them were just too hard. It was really a high time for me to consider the Exorcism Ritual. And that is exactly what I was planning to do today, that is, Friday.
I had a book of dark rituals in my hand. I had stolen it from the restricted section using my invisibility cloak. I was currently walking towards Chamber of Secrets. Yes… That is where I would perform the Ritual. That place had a very important component needed for the ritual—A strong magical catalyst.
When I had reached the chamber, I started drawing ritual circles and all the other stuff that was necessary for the ritual. Alongside, I also drew a ritual circle for Cleansing Ritual. I paid meticulous attention as I drew, checking the shape and words of my creation with one in the book every few minutes.
Finally, it was done… I placed a golden bowl, one I had stolen from Great Hall, at the center of the ritual circle and deftly conjured a knife and nicked my finger, dropping exactly seven drops of blood. Now, it was time to add the final ingredient… a strong magical catalyst… and what was stronger than Basilisk venom? I pulled one of the large teeth of Salazar's cursed wife and, using my wand, squeezed all the venom from the tooth into the bowl.
I took a last glance at the pages of the ritual book, making sure I knew all the incantations, and started chanting. It took nearly fifteen minutes… for fifteen minutes I chanted and blue and green surrounded me. As the end of the ritual neared the magic that had been concentrated in the air crackled and rushed towards the ritual circle… and then the entire ritual circle lit up. Light, light everywhere. And then slowly it deemed, seeping inside the golden bowl. The liquid inside the bowl had changed color. Earlier it was a mix of black venom and seven drops of my blood, but now it was a green liquid.
I was tired… The ritual had drained me. Thankfully, I had been prepared for this. I had brought a couple vials of pepper-up potions with me. I chugged a vial and got ready for the cleansing ritual.
Long story short, the cleansing ritual produced a red liquid.
Now the liquids I had gotten from the first ritual would only help me in removing the Horcrux… It was not a guarantee. There were some… other Exorcism rituals which would have directly helped me remove it… But they were quite gruesome in nature… So, I decided to choose the tamer one.
Anyways… I sat down on the chamber's floor, my back leaning against the dead basilisk. My hands held the golden bowl… looking at it quizzically.
"How can a liquid… remove a soul shard?" I said and instantly felt stupid. This was a world of magic… We could brew luck and I was questioning this?
I took a last look at the swirling emerald-lime liquid. I lifted the bowl and slowly my lips touched its edge. I didn't drink it slowly… I was too scared of what it would taste like to do so… I drank the entire liquid in a single breath.
As the liquid seeped through my esophagus, I felt my consciousness slip… I forced my eyes to stay open, but they fought against me. I saw shapes and colors instead of a clear view. My throat started feeling dry and my stomach felt as though it was on fire. And then my view shifted, I was on a different plane… Everything white, King's Cross? I was back at King's Cross station.
I looked around, trying to find someone, anyone. Last time it was Dumbledore… But he wasn't dead.
"Hello old friend," A rough, heavy voice came.
I turned and saw a large figure, over ten feet tall, clad in black like a dementor. His face was covered and the only piece of his skin I could see was his hands—Pale white. His left hand hung loosely by his side, relaxed and at ease, while his right hand held a scythe. Instinctively, I knew who he was.
"Death," I said and could feel his smile through his cloak.
Author's Note: Hello Readers! First of all, thank you for reading this long chapter. In my opinion, this is the worst written and most creative chapter so far. I wrote this one in like three and a half hour... so that's nice. Only I know how I got time to write this. I had so much homework. Kinematics, especially projectile, sucks. Also periodic table and its properties (and a million exceptions) sucks. Anyways, I hope you all likes this chapter. Please tell me if you find a mistake, after all i am just an amateur writer.