"Thank you, Mr Devonshire," said Lord Sirius Black as he looked at the file which contained the signed sheets of parchment. "I will have the agreed value of the shares purchased transferred to your vault."
"I assume the - information - will not make the light of day?" asked Mr Devonshire, sweating. He swallowed nervously. He had heard about the Black family information network and their ways of persuasion, but he had never had the pleasure of experiencing it himself. How the hell did Black find out that he was the owner of the Daily Prophet in the first place? He and his two business partners had ensured that it was kept quiet. The information Black had about them was too terrifying to even think about. But he would get back at Black one day. He wasn't going to be a sitting duck. He could already sense the subtle shift in power. Politics was heavily dependent on the media and Lord Sirius Black now controlled the Daily Prophet .
"Enjoy your day, Mr Devonshire," said Sirius with a smile. When the disgruntled and angry older man turned to walk towards the door, Sirius' smile dropped as he pointed his wand at the man's back.
" Obliviate! "
" Stupefy! "
"I think the D.M.L.E. would love to get their hands on you and your two friends," said Sirius with a smirk. "Smuggling illegal potions and artefacts; you all should realise now why the Blacks have always held power and why we have considered ourselves close to royalty. And it is time we got it back!"
"You should have left my son alone. Let's see what the Daily Prophets says about Harry Potter with me in charge."
...
Harry waved his wand as he conjured a bunch of multi-coloured orchids which he placed at Daphne's bedside table. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone at Hogwarts since the incident. Sirius had told him about the change in ownership of the Daily Prophet. It was now equally owned by the Houses of Potter and Black, but of course, no one would know that. It was under an alias - under the name of one Frank Olive. Any information about the true holders of the shares was covered under a mountain of paperwork so that no one would bother looking for it - or find it. Sirius had gone an extra mile and actually created a fake identity for Frank Olive. No one would know that he never existed.
"I miss you," whispered Harry as he rubbed Daphne's hand with his thumb. He frowned when he felt something in her fist. He looked down and felt a sheet of parchment nested inside her hand and he spent several seconds trying to get it out. Once he smoothened the sheet, he read what was in it.
Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach a gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.
Harry frowned because he had ruled out the possibility of the creature being a basilisk. But he saw that Daphne had written something at the bottom of the sheet.
Pipes - plumbing inside the castle.
Ask Moaning Myrtle - may be able to find out more.
Windows - spiders acting strangely.
Hagrid's roosters - killed.
Ergo, the Basilisk.
But the basilisk's gaze kills, doesn't it? Then why wasn't anyone dead? Oh wait; no one did look the creature in the eye. All of them looked at it indirectly which was what caused the petrification in the first place. There had always been a barrier - water on the ground, a ghost, mirrors…
Moaning Myrtle? She was the one killed fifty years ago, wasn't she? Harry's eyes widened. Why hadn't he thought about that before? Between all the studying he had been doing along with the shit he was dealing with from the students of the school and the rest of the country, he had discounted a major part of the mystery. His blood chilled when he thought about the basilisk that was at Hogwarts. He remembered what Amelia had told him months ago about a basilisk.
"And a good thing too," said Amelia darkly. "A basilisk will cause an international red alert because it can be used for mass destruction. Can you imagine the damage someone like Voldemort could do if he gained access to a basilisk? He could wreak havoc in scales we can't even imagine!"
Oh, dear Merlin! There was a bloody weapon of mass destruction right under the castle! He quickly got up and walked towards the first-floor corridor when he heard a voice echoing throughout the hallways.
"All students return to your their House common rooms at once! Teachers report to the staffroom immediately."
Harry frowned. Something must have happened. He cast a Notice-me-not charm over himself using the locket, silenced his feet and went over to the staffroom. He stood outside and cast an eavesdropping charm and listened.
"It's happened. A student has been taken right into the Chamber itself. The heir has left another message: Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever. This is going to be the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…" said McGonagall, sounding worried and scared.
"Who is it?" whispered Madam Hooch.
"Ginny Weasley," replied McGonagall morosely.
Harry left and quickly went towards the first-floor girl's bathroom. He had to verify Daphne's theory. He had actually never come to this part of the castle. He had no reason to come here too because the hallway did not connect to Ravenclaw Tower or any of his classrooms. Just as he entered the bathroom, he was assaulted by another memory.
He had found it! He could feel his excitement and elation at finding the entrance to Salazar Slytherin's famous Chamber of Secrets. It had taken him four years and now, he would find out what was here.
He looked at the sink in front of him. "Open," he said, slipping easily into Parseltongue as he always had. The sink expanded, leaving a pipe he could slide through.
Harry gasped when he came out of the memory, wincing in pain as he clutched his head. Breathing hard, he looked around and noticed that a ghost was watching him.
"Are you Myrtle?" he asked uncertainly.
....
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