The Weasley family, along with Harry and Hermione stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, saying their farewells. The platform was still crowded with people even though the train was set to leave in just two minutes.
The group had been provided with special Ministry Cars again, clearly because Harry had been traveling with them (although nobody voiced the thought aloud). The cars had been long, luxurious and spacious, allowing for a comfortable journey. They had even been fitted with magic that allowed them to pass through hordes of muggle cars without being noticed.
Even with all of that, the group has still been nearly late. Harry didn't mind, however; he was too busy being thankful that he could make it through the platform wall.
Harry stood quietly, stroking Hedwig's luscious plumage. The week between the World Cup and present time had been horrible for the Potter heir. The feeling of energy shooting through his body, and of magic spreading through his veins had finally returned the previous evening, much to Harry's relief. He had never paid attention to the feeling before his Gringotts trip, but after having it taken for a week, Harry could now feel it more than ever before. It felt stronger, too, as though whatever he had done had strengthened its power.
Harry assumed that the feeling was related to his wandless magic in some way, which slightly scared him. If wandless magic used the same source of power as normal magic, his stunt at the world cup had literally made himself incapable of using magic for quite a while.
Fred and George were still trying (and failing) to figure out what special event would be going on this year. Harry and the others had given up long ago, accepting the fact that they simply would have to wait until they arrived at Hogwarts. Considering that they would be there by evening, Harry was sure he could wait.
"Alright, up you go! Can't have you missing the train!" said Mrs. Weasley to the group of them, "I do hope we can see a bit, it seems very fun. Arthur said that the ministry was planning on using those Recorder Glasses, but it hasn't been fully planned out, has it? Even if they don't I'm sure we'll be able to join you for one of them!"
"Mum!" said Fred, now annoyed, "What are they going to use Recorder Glasses for? MUM! Quit giggling and answer!"
"Be patient, you two, you'll find out tonight anyway." said Charlie, who, along with Bill, had come to see them off (Mr. Weasley and Percy were both at the Ministry, working), "Mind you, it's a good thing they've changed the rules - I imagine you two might've had a go at it if they hadn't."
Mrs. Weasley paled suddenly, before turning to the twins.
"You two better not mess around this year, understood? Not a toe out of line! They'll be serious consequences if you mess around, understood?"
The twins nodded slowly, and after a quick hug from their mother, led the way onto the Hogwarts Express. The twins said goodbye to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, before departing in search of Lee Jordan. Ginny had already left to look for some of her friends a few minutes prior.
Eventually, they found a compartment that was filled with students in their year. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom all sat inside, talking with great enthusiasm. After asking if they could join them in the compartment, the three fourth years walked inside.
It turned out that the three had been talking about the Quidditch World Cup, as well as the aftermath that had occurred.
"I told all of you, Ireland would win!" said Seamus, a broad smile on his face.
"How were we to know, they haven't won in ages!" argued Ron.
The redhead took a seat next to Seamus, while Harry sat by the window, looking outside. Hermione rolled her eyes before sitting by the compartment door, pulling out 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4'. After opening the first page alone, it was clear that she had tuned out of their conversation.
"It was pretty incredible though, wasn't it! Fred and George made a bet with Bagman, you know! Saying that Ireland would win, but Krum would get the snitch! They must've won a hundred galleons from that!" exclaimed Ron.
"That's a load of dragon dung, that is!" said Dean in a loud voice.
"Ask Harry, he was there!"
Dean and Seamus both turned to Harry, seeking confirmation. Harry gave a small nod, before turning back to the window. The two friends turned back to Ron, and the three of them resumed their discussion. Neville sat by, listening with rapt attention.
"I wish I could have gone, but Gran didn't want to go, said it was a waste of time." said Neville, after the three excited Gryffindors finished talking about the 'Wronski Feints' Victor Krum had performed, "It sounds amazing."
"It was, Nev! We saw it from the Top Box, the three of us! We were sitting with Fudge and the rest!" bragged Ron. This got awed looks rest, before Seamus finally asked, "How in Merlin's name did you get tickets?"
"Bagman." said Ron, grinning, "Dad helped his brother out a while back, so he gave Dad tickets! And all dad did was help fix some lawn-motor, or mower, or something! A bit over the top I suppose, but I'm not complaining!"
Harry and Hermione both looked up at that, catching each other's eyes. Harry quickly turned back to the window, thinking hard. Ron was right; it was way over the top, giving someone World Cup Tickets, particularly for the Top Box. He was beginning to suspect that he might be the reason the Weasley's had gotten those tickets, even if the Weasley's all thought it was a simple show of gratitude. If Hermione's reaction meant anything, she probably agreed with him.
"What about after?" said Seamus, lowering his voice, "Did you lot see the dark mark?"
"It was cast right ab - " started Ron, before realizing that Harry and Hermione were both staring at him, eyes narrowed. Ron cleared his throat nervously.
"I - er - don't know, I guess we saw it." finished Ron, wincing as he stumbled over his words. Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Ron's mistake. It was clear that Seamus, Dean, and Neville all knew what Ron had been about to say, or they at least got the gist of it.
"I heard the ministry found a bunch of broken bodies down in the woods. They were seen pulling out the remains, apparently. Did you guys hear about that too?" asked Dean, turning to Hermione.
Hermione and Ron both looked confused, while Harry's eyes widened suddenly. Thankfully, he was still facing the windows, so nobody had seen the quick change in expression.
Ever since the Quidditch World Cup, Harry could help but think back to the events in the clearing. Yes, he had killed Professor Quirrell, but he was much younger at the time, and therefore did not understand the severity of his actions.
What scared Harry most was the lack of remorse he felt. Yes, he felt bad about what he had done, but not nearly as much as he should. He had managed to convince himself that what he had done was for the better, something he knew to be true. Still, it unsettled Harry that he cared so little about the lives of others, even if the lives in question belonged to rather vile people.
Changing his expression to a confused look, Harry turned to Dean, who continued upon meeting his questioning gaze.
"I don't know if it's true or not, but Seamus said it was in the paper." Dean explained, shrugging.
"What about those Veela though?" said Dean mischievously, before looking at Seamus, "Good ol' Finnigan here couldn't stop himself from drooling. His mum had to hit him over the head with some Irish flags."
The topic remained upon the beautiful Bulgarian mascots for quite sometime, with only Harry noticing the way Hermione sat in the corner, fuming. She eventually told the group that she needed to use the lavatory ten minutes later. Ron, Seamus, and Dean all nodded quickly before continuing to day dream of the Veela. Harry smiled as she left; it hadn't escaped his notice that Hermione had taken her book, as well as her belonging, with her.
The rest of the journey to Hogwarts went by fairly peacefully, especially compared to the dementors and flying cars of the previous occasions. Harry had taken Hedwig out of her cage after a half hour of the journey, feeling bad for leaving her in there. He had intended to have her fly off to Hogwarts as she usually did, although she would not listen to him. She seemed to think that he was incapable of traveling to Hogwarts without getting in some form of danger.
She was certainly correct about that, although Harry chose to ignore that particular fact.
After removing her from her cage, the beautiful snowy owl sat in Harry's lap, snuggling into his chest. He listened quietly as the other Ron, Seamus, Dean, and occasionally Neville talked about all sorts of strange things. He even joined in on their discussions about what event might be happening this year, as well as who the new Defense Professor would be.
The Trolley Witch came by about an hour later, much to the happiness of one Ronald Weasley. Harry, Neville, Dean, and Seamus all purchased Cauldron Cakes, Liquor Wands, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and as much else as they could. Ron ended up eating more than anyone else, although nobody commented. Ron was well known around the school not only as Harry's friend, but as the person capable of eating more food than anyone else anyone had ever met.
Harry attempted to feed Hedwig some of the Pumpkin Pasties, although she kept turning her beak in the opposite direction, hooting softly at him. Harry couldn't tell what was wrong; he knew she had to be hungry, as she hadn't eaten recently. Besides, he could feel her stomach grumbling slightly.
He did laugh, however, when Hedwig suddenly started accepting food after he had eaten a fair share. Hedwig had been mothering him again.
Things stayed as they were until they reached Hogsmeade Station, with the only change in consistency being when Malfoy and his goons had entered their compartment.
Malfoy quickly left after Hedwig had bitten him for stealing Harry's food.
She had earned a few extra treats for that.
The five Gryffindor males, along with Hedwig and Trevor (Ron had sent Pigwidgeon off to Hogwarts before they had left the Burrow), departed from the train. Hogsmeade Station was crowded, with all of the Hogwarts students currently standing upon it. The station was slightly rowdy as well, with rain falling harshly onto the heads of the many young witches and wizards. Harry was somewhat tempted to try and remove the rain, but quickly decided against doing so. For starters, he was almost guaranteed to fail, and more importantly, he had just gotten his magic back; he was not about to lose it.
Harry and Ron both held a portion of their robes above their head, Harry gently moving Hedwig over to his shoulder in the process. They soon met up with Hermione, who was walking with many of the other girls in their year. Lavender Brown, the Patil twins, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot to be more specific. They had all chosen to use their cloaks to protect from the rain as well, although Hermione held her book under her cloak in an attempt to continue reading.
"What took so long in the bathroom?" asked Ron, craning his neck over the unruly crowd to try and find the exit. Harry and Hermione both rolled their eyes, neither bothering to pay the question any attention. The trio slowly made their way over to the exit, and after a quick greeting to Hagrid, began walking toward the carriages.
"Why is Hedwig with you?" asked Hermione, closing the book she had been reading since stepping out of the train.
"She seems to think I can't make the trip to Hogwarts without nearly dying." said Harry, grinning. Hedwig hooted in agreement, nodding her head back and forth. They made their way over to the carriages, but before they could enter, Harry paused.
Standing before the carriages that supposedly moved on their own were two strange looking horses. They were much bonier than the average stallion, and were bone white to match that. They had wings as well. The creatures had a slight resemblance to a hippogriff, although not even Ron could have mistaken the two for the same thing.
"What is that?" asked Harry, pointing at the horse-like creature before him.
"What is what, Harry?" said Hermione, her eyebrows raised higher than usual.
"I - nothing, I suppose. Just a headache again."
Hermione nodded, before she and Ron went into the carriage as well. He followed behind them, Hedwig still resting upon his shoulder. Inside the carriage sat a group of sixth year Ravenclaws. They weren't the same ones Harry had ran into at Diagon Alley, but they also made fun of him often. Harry didn't particularly care at the moment; almost everyone at school had mocked or bullied him at some point or another.
Thankfully, the group of Ravenclaws merely sent a quick glare at the 'Golden Trio', before turning back. Harry could feel Hedwig shifting angrily on his shoulder, but thankfully, she hadn't hooted at the students. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, and joined in on their discussion about what the special event might be.
They arrived at the Hogwarts gates less than ten minutes later. The trio quickly got out of the carriage before the Ravenclaws could, Harry and Hermione taking care not to get their shoes dirtied by the muddy grass. They made their way over to the wet stone steps that lead into the Great Hall, Harry and Ron ignoring Filch's yells to wipe their feet.
Once Harry had begun his climb up the steps, Hedwig nipped his ear before flying off to the Owlery. The students made their way up the steps and into the Great Hall, many greeting Professor McGonagall as they passed. A few students even stayed back to talk to her, although they sped into the Great Hall upon spotting Peeves flying their way, his hands filled with water balloons.
The transparent ceiling of the Great Hall showed gallons of rain falling from the clouds above. Thousands of candles could be seen above the house tables, gently floating around. Nearly every chair at the staff table was filled, the only exceptions being Hagrid's, McGonagall's, and the Defense Professor's.
Harry carefully tried to avoid the gaze of one Albus Dumbledore. He was very annoyed at the old coot at the moment, not having forgotten the ten horrible weeks with the Dursley's. He was getting sick and tired of being a pawn on the headmaster's chess board, and tired of being powerless to stop it.
Harry made his way over to the packed Gryffindor table, shortly accompanied by Ron and Hermione. The redhead sat impatiently, playing with the knife and fork that had been in front of him. His stomach, which had been filled mere hours previously, was grumbling loudly.
Most of the students at the table, including Harry, were in the process of taking their shoes off and emptying them of water. Filch would be having a field day if he was here, considering the amount of water slowly spreading around the floor of the Great Hall.
"Hey Harry." said Angelina, Alicia, and Katie in unison, all speaking in a husky tone. It was not at all difficult to detect the amusement laced within their voices as well.
Harry chuckled a bit to himself, before blowing a kiss at them jokingly. The three of them had become similar to older sisters for him, thanks to their time together on the Quidditch Pitch. Hermione shook her head at Harry's actions, before pulling out her book once more.
"Having a good evening?" said Nearly Headless Nick, appearing out of nowhere. Harry snorted, pointing at his shoes.
"It isn't the worst we've had on the first day." said Nick, "Although I do feel bad for our new first years, having to cross the Great Lake in this weather."
"The weather might be good for us though. Maybe it'll push the boats faster!" exclaimed Ron.
"It's more likely to destroy the boats than anything else." said Hermione, not looking up from her book, "And if that does happen, we'd have to wait at least half an hour before anyone realizes what happened."
Ron sank dejectedly in his seat, quietly grumbling out, "I hate the weather."
A moment after Ron's comment, the side door behind the staff table sprung open, revealing the most horrifying person Harry had ever seen (besides Voldemort, but Harry wasn't even sure Voldemort counted as a person anymore). The man was covered from head to toe in scars, had a wooden peg leg, and had some sort of magical eyeball attached where his left eye should have been.
After sitting still for a moment, a bolt of lightning issued within the storm above them, something Harry knew he had accidentally created. It thundered over the Great Hall, echoing loudly, and frightening many students. The magic that soared through Harry's veins was once again out of touch with him, but thankfully it was not gone, not in the way it had been after the Quidditch World Cup.
Regardless, Harry would certainly have to learn more about his wandless magic. Why was it seemingly so connected to electricity? Or perhaps it wasn't, and he was making the connection on his own. After all, he had been associating his wandless magic with lightning ever since he knew of his existence, unintentionally, of course. It was certainly something Harry would have to learn more about, that was for sure.
"That's Mad-Eye Moody, that is!" Ron whispered to those around him, "He's an ex Auror, one of the best the ministry ever had!"
Moody limped over to his seat, nodding at the headmaster as he did so. Harry noticed Dumbledore's eyes staring suspiciously at the sky, before he went back to his meal. Harry privately noted that he would have to do his best to control his wandless magic when in the presence of the headmaster. It would not be ideal for Dumbledore to learn of him being a Mage.
Ron grumbled loudly as he stared at the plate before him, his stomach following his lead seconds later.
Thankfully for Ron and his stomach, the first years walked in with McGonagall just ten minutes later, with Hagrid having been just a few moments earlier. They were all soaked from top to bottom, and one of them was even wearing Hagrid's ginormous coat. A few slipped over the wet floor, something that earned the older students a glare from McGonagall.
Harry soon learnt that the student wearing Hagrid's coat had been Dennis Creevy, Colin's younger brother.
"If he's anything like his brother, you'll have to make sure he doesn't get his hands on your schedule." joked Dean, earning laughs from Seamus and Ron, as well as chuckles from Neville and Harry. Hermione shook her head slightly, a disapproving look on her face.
She was likely about to reprimand the group on their rudeness, but was interrupted by the Sorting Hat, which burst into song.
"I thought the song was different when we were sorted." said Harry, clapping with the rest of the hall once the Sorting Hat's song had ended.
"It's different every year." whispered Hermione, her eyes glued to Professor McGonagall, "Something which you might have known if you stopped looking for trouble."
"I don't go looking for trouble, it finds me!" Harry defended as Baddock, Malcolm was sorted into Slytherin.
"The kid looked like a Slytherin, that's for sure." Ron muttered darkly, glaring at Baddock as he took his seat at the table, "Can't have a snake contaminating the rest of us, that's for sure."
Hermione's mouth dropped open in disbelief, remaining open for a few seconds before she began a whispered argument with Ron about being rude to first years. Harry only caught a few random lines from their conversation, however, as Ron's words had reminded him of something.
I'm the Heir of Slytherin.
"He's just a little boy, Ronald, there's no need to be rude to him!"
I could probably go into the Chamber of Secrets without having to worry about getting attacked. Not that the basilisk is alive to attack me, but that's beside the point.
"You know how snakes are, Hermione! You can't be all nice to them, or they'll bite you from behind!"
There's probably something I could use down there. There's no way that Slytherin's fabled chamber is just a giant snake pen. Maybe I could -
"So what if most Slytherins are trouble? He's just arrived here, you haven't even met him!"
"Will you two please shut up!" hissed Harry angrily. The three Gryffindor chasers, the fourth years, and a few of the older students all turned towards Harry's voice. Both the brunette's and the redhead's eyes widened drastically, before they quickly quieted. They each turned back to the Sorting Hat, who had just sorted Whitby, Kevin into Hufflepuff.
"There are a few announcements to be held at the end of the feast." said Dumbledore, standing up from his throne-like chair, "But for now, we have only one. Let the feast begin!"
The plates before them all glowed, suddenly filled with any British food that could be imagined. Ron eagerly filled his plate to the brim, before stabbing his steak with ferocity. Those sitting around him slowly shifted away; his eating habits really were quite revolting.
Hermione stared down at her food, eyes narrowed. She inspected the dishes placed upon the other house tables, before speaking aloud.
"How can they make so much food? You can't transfigure something into food, and all the foods looks different, so it definitely hasn't been duplicated."
Nick, who had floated back in their direction, happily told Hermione about house elves, though he was shooed away by the rest of the Gryffindors. They all knew the look on Hermione's face, and were not all pleased to see what she would cook up now. Hermione quickly pushed her meal away from her, muttering to herself about slavery.
"Anyone taking bets on how long it'll take for her to start a House Elf Protection Act?" whispered Seamus, chuckling.
"Don't say that." warned Dean, "You know her, she'll go and do it."
"But they're house elves! It isn't slavery!" said Ron, through a mouth full of food.
"What species they are doesn't exactly change what it is, mate." said Seamus. Harry nodded in agreement, although his thoughts were still focused on the Chamber of Secrets.
He was really starting to agree with his initial thoughts. There had to be something more down there. Harry was fairly certain that Voldemort would not have continued returning to the Chamber of Secrets if it was just the basilisk's lair. There had to be something more, something of value that he could use.
Something that would finally allow me to be left alone.
The two people Harry wanted to leave him be more than anyone were Dumbledore and Voldemort. Harry was beginning to suspect that Dumbledore had been the one to have him delivered to the Dursleys' doorstep all those years ago. He certainly was the one returning Harry annually. He was beginning to see the cracks in the old man's kindly grandfather facade, something he did not at all like.
Dumbledore should have given him his Vault Key, told him about magic, and told him about his lineage. Instead of informing Harry about his Slytherin ancestry, he had simply stated, "When you defeated Voldemort, you stole a portion of his power." - something which Harry now knew was not the case. That didn't mean Harry didn't respect the old man, of course. But after thinking it through during the summer, he could no longer see Albus Dumbledore in the light he once did.
As for Voldemort, he was the man who took his parents from him. The reason he ended up with the Dursleys. He was also part of the reason he kept ending up in near death situations, although that was also partially his own fault. Harry wanted them to leave him be, to be allowed to live a normal life.
I'm going back to the chamber tonight. Harry decided, I'm going to see what Tom might have found so interesting, what I myself might find interesting.
It was a reckless idea, that was for sure. Thankfully, that part matched with all of previous adventures, so there was nothing out of place there. He considered asking Ron and Hermione if they wanted to come with him, but quickly decided against it. Ron would probably sputter out some nonsense about how he was turning dark, and Hermione herself had been paralyze by the basilisk; she most likely wouldn't be too fond of returning.
Hermione would probably end up reporting me to McGonagall.Harry noted in slight annoyance.
Besides, this was Harry's chamber. He was supposed to be the Heir of Slytherin, was he not?
An Heir of Slytherin. Not the Heir. I'm not about to start killing muggleborns. It just means I'm a relative of Salazar Slytherin. Nothing to bad about that.
He had long decided to keep all his heirships under wraps, even the Potter one. He wasn't interested in receiving any more attention, and he was really sick of the whole Slytherin nonsense from his second year. Even though most people had realized he couldn't have been petrifying people, that didn't stop them from mocking him. Even during the last few months of last year he had been bullied about it. Nobody had said anything yet this year, but considering they had been back for a grand total of one hour, that wasn't saying much.
The rest of the feast went rather well, with Hermione even going back to eating her food, although she did eat a lot less than she could have. Seamus, Dean, and Ron had all begun talking to other students about the Veela that had been at the World Cup. They all spoke with a strange dreamy tone throughout their discussion, clearly lost within the confines of their imagination.
Hermione, thankfully, was paying no attention to the rest of the table. Harry was quite certain that if she had, they would all be getting an hour long lecture on how immature and inappropriate they were acting, and how they should be setting an example for the first years.
But when it's about Lockhart, it's totally understandable. Not with Veela though, not at all.
Eventually the remnants and crumbs of the many dessert plates vanished, Dumbledore standing up as they did so. The Great Hall fell silent, all students looking towards their headmaster (except for Ron, who was now glaring at his empty plate with undisguised loathing).
"Now that our stomachs and mouths have both quieted down, I have a few start-of-term announcements to make!" Dumbledore paused, checking to make sure he had everyone's attention before carrying on, "First, Mr. Filch has asked me to inform you that the list of forbidden objects has been increased to 437 items. If there is anyone who wishes to see it, the list is posted outside of Mr. Filch's office.
"As per usual, I must remind you all that the Forbidden Forest was given its name for a reason, and that Hogsmeade is only to be allowed for those in their third years or above, and only with the express permission of a parent or guardian.
"After the events of the previous year, the Wizengamot has agreed to remove Hogwarts from the watch of Dementors." The hall was filled with cheers at that statement; nobody had like the dementors, many having greatly feared having their soul sucked out.
Harry had feared the potential loss of his soul as well, but he was even more afraid of the effects of a dementor. Whenever he was around one, he heard the sounds of his dying father, the pleading of his mother, and the death that ensued. It was for that reason that the dementors had been his boggart form, regardless of whatever anyone else had said.
Harry wondered what his boggart would be now. He was no longer afraid of dementors, now having a way to defend himself from them. It would be rather interesting to see, although if he did manage to run into one again, he dearly hoped it wouldn't be in a room full of his classmates.
"However," Dumbledore continued, "The Wizengamot still feels that leaving the school without protection is not a good move on their part. Therefore, our numbers will be joined by a few Aurors in the coming weeks, who will be patrolling the school hallways both day and night."
Every single student above the first year (except for the Slytherins, of course) laughed when they heard Fred and George both groaning in annoyance, with even Dumbledore cracking a smile. Harry felt bad for the twins, as they snuck out during the night just as much as he did. Thankfully, he doubted any Aurors would be able to find him under the Peverell Invisibility Cloak.
"And lastly, I regret to inform you all that this year, the Hogwarts Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place."
The Great Hall was suddenly filled with roars of anger, students even jumping up from their seats and waving angrily at the staff table.
"This is due to an event that will be taking place from October till the end of the school year, one that will take much of the time the staff and ministry have on their hands." announced Dumbledore over the angry yelling of the students, "However, I am sure you will all enjoy the event immensely. After centuries, Hogwarts will again be holding the fabled Triwizard Tournament once more."
The mood in the hall could not have changed more drastically. The jaws of many students fell wide open, emotions ranging from surprise to confusion. The Weasley twins, who had previously been yelling themselves hoarse with anger, were now frozen in shock.
"The Triwizard Tournament is a competition between the three premier European magical schools. Each school is represented by a single champion, who is to be chosen by the Goblet of Fire, which will be brought out once the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive in a month's time.
"The selected champions will each perform in three dangerous challenges, which will be taking place before you all. Each champion will be judged by how well they perform in the tasks, with the one with the best performance being crowned Triwizard Champion.
"The selection of champions, as well as the three tasks, will all be captured by a recent invention known as the Recorder Glass, allowing for them to be viewed all across the world in select places that have been given permission and approval by their respective Ministries of Magic, as well as our own. Eternal glory awaits all of the champions, but none more than the victor. A thousand galleons prize money, the Triwizard Cup, and honor are what awaits he or she who wins."
Dumbledore paused to let everyone take in what they had just heard.
"I'm going to enter." vowed Ron loudly, "I'm going to be champion, I'm going to win!"
Had Harry cared enough to pay attention to his friend's comment, he most likely would have rolled his eyes. He was more concerned about this tournament, however. Every year he somehow ended up in incredibly dangerous situations; this matched the description perfectly.
He had come across the tournament in 'Hogwarts: A History', and could say without a doubt that it was an excellent way of killing someone. Malfoy would never let him live it down if he ended up getting killed by a sphinx as all three champions in the Tournament of 1654 had been. Although to be fair, he had to be alive for Draco to make fun of him, so that wasn't exactly true.
"A more specific set of rules and terms on the Triwizard Tournament will be announced once the delegations arrive in October. I must warn you against entering, as once you have been entered, you have sealed a magical contract. But that time is in a month, and the time right now is for sleeping. Head to bed, students, and rest well for tomorrow, your first full day of school! Off you trot!"
The Great Hall rose as a whole, with Harry and the other fourth year Gryffindors leading the way to the Gryffindor common room.
"Well!" started Seamus excitedly, "Triwizard Tournament, eh? Anyone up for it?"
"I sure am! Imagine it, eternal glory!" Ron sighed with longing.
"It won't be eternal." said Hermione harshly, "The Tournament was one of the most famous events in the magical world during the period it was held, and that was because all the champions kept dying!"
"Something worth winning then, isn't it!" argued Dean.
"It isn't winning, it's glorified suicide!"
Harry did have to admit that he agreed with Hermione on this one, and from the looks on Neville's face, he did as well.
"It wouldn't be the first time we've done dangerous things, Hermione! The three of us - " Ron indicated to himself, Harry and Hermione. " - always end up in dangerous stuff, I bet I've got loads of experience by now."
"Your experience consists of being strangled by a plant, getting knocked out by a giant chess piece, getting bitten by a two-week old dragon, and later a dog, and having to move a giant pile of rocks out of the way!" argued Hermione, seemingly growing slightly annoyed by this point.
Ron shrugged. "Still something, init? Besides, we were saving the Sorcerer's Stone, fighting the basilisk to save my sister, and fighting those dementors for Snuffles."
"We, Ronald?" asked Hermione.
"You know what I mean."
Hermione huffed, allowing for the group to be completely silent. They had never truly heard what had happened to the 'Golden Trio' throughout their yearly adventures, except for perhaps what Dumbledore had informed them, which wasn't much.
"But imagine, for a second." continued Ron, turning to the fourth year males, "You're laying on the beach, a thousand galleons in your pant pocket, maybe a Veela giving you a massage - "
"If you thought about your education half as much as you did Veela, you'd be beating me in all our subjects!" hissed Hermione with hostility.
Ron turned to Seamus and Dean, who both shrugged.
"I'm not going to enter." said Harry, "Hermione's right; it's essentially a death trap. And besides, a thousand galleons isn't all that much."
"It might not seem like much for you," said Ron, glaring at the emerald eyed boy, "But it's like a fortune. Besides, with eternal glory, that'll just be the beginning."
"I don't think that's how eternal glory works, Ron." said Neville shyly.
Ron ignored everyone for the rest of the walk back to the tower, choosing to mutter darkly to himself.
Harry quietly shifted his weight under the Invisibility Cloak as he departed from his shared dormitory. With him was his wand and the Marauder's Map, both of which were held carefully in his hands. He made it through the common room (ignoring the two sixth years who were snogging half naked on the couch) and quickly towards the portrait hole.
It wasn't the first time those two had been at it on that particular couch. One of the down sides of the Marauder's Map was that it showed where everyone was by tracking their footprints. It wasn't all too hard to figure out what it meant when a pair of footprints were around another pair. Harry had been avoiding that couch for nearly half a year now.
He pushed past the portrait hole quietly so that the two sixth years wouldn't notice, shutting it with equal silence behind him. The Fat Lady looked around in confusion, but Harry was long gone, and still under his cloak.
Harry silently made his way down the stairs and towards the second floor girl's toilet. He was slightly curious (and equally concerned) as to why Salazar Slytherin would have the entrance of his fabled chamber in a girl's bathroom, although Harry doubted something such as plumbing even existed back then. He was more suspicious of how Voldemort had found it. Moaning Myrtle had not haunted the bathroom at the time young Tom Riddle had found it, it would have still been used by other students.
Harry preferred not to think about that.
He eventually made it to the bathroom after nearly running into both Peeves and Filch. Harry was thankful the Auror guard had not yet arrived; although he would be damn near impossible to find under the Peverell Cloak, he wouldn't be if he accidentally walked into someone. Besides, Dumbledore had managed to find Harry under it, although Harry had a feeling he knew how. Invisible though he might be, he was still just as easy to hear as any other.
As he entered the bathroom, Harry subconsciously pulled the cloak off, walking toward the bathroom sinks.
"I was wondering when you'd come back to visit." said a voice from his left side.
Harry turned to find the ghostly body of one Moaning Myrtle floating towards him. She looked just as she had a little more than a year ago, when Harry had last seen her. Her eyes, however, showed Harry just how upset the ghost had been with Harry's lack of visitations. It surprised him a great deal, to the point where he genuinely felt guilty.
"Sorry, Myrtle, but it is rather hard you know, sneaking into a girl's bathroom, even if it is out of order . . ."
She nodded dejectedly, before turning to look at the entrance to the chamber.
"I suppose you're trying to go back there, aren't you?" she asked.
"I am."
The ghost beamed happily at him.
"You saved me from the Basilisk. It was a rather good thing you did, you know. I'd love to have a visitor who isn't as horrible as the others."
For a moment Harry contemplated reminding Myrtle that she was already dead, but quickly decided against it.
Instead, Harry walked to the snake-marked tap, and said, "Open."
"It doesn't work in English, you know." Myrtle said helpfully from the side of the bathroom.
"Yeah, I figured that much out on my own." said Harry in an annoyed tone.
It took three more attempts to get the chamber to finally open; Harry would be making sure to practice his Parseltongue. He watched as the sinks split apart, floating in a peculiar fashion similar to the way Myrtle moved around. Harry turned back to the ghost, a question forming on his lips.
"Don't worry, I'll keep your secret." said the ghost happily, "It's much more interesting this way. And if you die, you're still welcome to share my toilet with me."
Harry chuckled quietly, before turning back to the newly formed hole in the ground. He couldn't imagine that Voldemort would have ever jumped down the hole, or anything of similar boldness.
"Stairs." hissed Harry in Parseltongue. He was delighted to see stairs shooting from the stone hole, forming a staircase similar to one someone might find in a tower of some sort.
After quickly thanking Myrtle, Harry made his way down the staircase. Every few stairs had a stone serpent's head on the wall above it. As Harry passed, the eyes of the effigies caught fire, providing a source of light. The fire was of a colour very similar to Harry's eyes, adding greatly to the 'Slytherin' feel the place had.
That's to be expected, of course. It's not like it was made by someone other than Slytherin.
After around a minute, Harry reached the bottom of the staircase. He was in a small hall of some sort, different from the caved in room he and Ron had been in more than a year prior. It was most likely a magic of some sort, although it did not comfort Harry to not know where he was, especially in a place such as this.
After further inspection, Harry realized that the hall was identical to the caved in one he had been in, though in much better condition. Harry made his way to the end of the hall, and whispered a quick, "Open." to the snake effigy that was curled around the circular door.
The door opened to reveal the Chamber of Secrets. There was a giant rectangular platform leading to the giant bust of Salazar Slytherin. To either side of the platform was water, with stone serpent effigies similar to the ones on the stairwell adorning the walls behind the pools (although these heads were much larger). The ceiling must have been a sixty feet tall, as Harry could just barely see it with the gloom of the chamber.
The ginormous corpse of the basilisk lay across the stone floor, it's mouth wide open.
The entrance he had come out of was directly opposite the bust of Slytherin, as opposed to the one one he had used prior, which was adjacent.
Slowly but surely, Harry made his way towards the bust. As Harry expected, the eyes of each effigy caught on fire as Harry passed it, basking the room in a green glow. He walked much more cautiously as he passed the basilisk, afraid that it might suddenly come back to life. Harry couldn't help but wonder how he had somehow managed to defeat such a thing. The creature was huge; perhaps eighty feet long, and wider than Harry was tall.
Quite like Dudley. If you take away the 80 feet long part, anyway.
When Harry finally reached the bust of Slytherin, he paused. He remembered hearing that basilisks were born from chicken eggs being hatched under a toad. It was highly unlikely that someone would attempt to replicate that in the chamber where a basilisk lived, as a chicken's cry was fatal to the king of serpents.
It's very unlikely that they could reproduce. Harry reasoned with himself. And besides, you would need two basilisks to do that. And if there was a mate, then I've already got another problem on my hands.
Standing directly in front of the bust, Harry hissed, "Open."
The mouth of the stone Salazar Slytherin lifted open, much to Harry's relief. He had been about to try the same words Voldemort had used last time in the chamber, but it appeared as though the dark wizard merely had a flare for dramatics.
"Oh no you don't, Riddle!" roared a voice from somewhere within the chamber. Harry froze, completely panicked.
"I meant it when I said not to come back! And I still mean it Riddle, off you trot! Don't you dare! I don't know how you finally managed to open the entrance, but you are not welcome!"
It isn't Voldemort. Harry assured himself. No matter how dramatic Riddle is, even he wouldn't talk to himself in the third person.
Besides, the voice was different to what Voldemort's currently was, and what he had been when he was younger. Whoever this mysterious being was clearly didn't like Riddle much either, and that had to be a good thing.
Taking his chances, Harry walked into the study. It was a mixture of luxurious and cozy, and was very large; the walls were made of some sort of marble, the floor of a fine wood. A grand fireplace roared to one side, an emerald green fire burning within it. The two walls adjacent to the one with the fireplace were both around thirty feet long. Across each of the two walls was a giant bookshelf, one on each side. They went from ceiling to floor, and were covered from top to bottom with books.
In the center of the room was a finely crafted table. Resting upon it was a strange marble chess board, appearing to be halfway through a game. There were only a few pieces missing from both the black and white side, as well as a few pieces in rather dangerous positions. Both sides were being rather risky with their pawns; they could all be taken very easily.
The black queen was completely cornered by white pieces. It's king was hidden at the back of the board, although it too was in a horrible situation.
Hanging from the roof was a beautiful chandelier whose candles had been lit when Harry had entered, basking the entire room with a golden light. Most of the rather large room's floor was covered in a fine white carpet. In front of the wall opposite the fireplace was a desk.
Behind that desk was a large portrait of a man in green robes. He had olive toned skin, black hair that was slowly whitening, and dark brown eyes that were rather similar to the colour Tom Riddle's had been. His eyes widened upon seeing Harry, before narrowing just as quickly. It was not the portrait, however, that had gotten Harry's attention, but rather what was written just below it.
In a fancy font etched upon the frame of the canvas were the words, 'Salazar Slytherin'.