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"How can it be—"
Harry stopped himself abruptly mid-exclamation. He knew what Nagini was, or rather, who she was, but he couldn't share this information with anyone. He couldn't very well claim to be a half-baked seer who could perceive things no one else could, could he?
That was absurd. Even if he tried to bluff, it wasn't the kind of lie that could hold water for long. Sure, there wasn't exactly a foolproof way to verify the authenticity of seers, but spinning one lie would only lead to spinning countless more to cover it up.
That was too exhausting. Better to say nothing at all.
"You seem to know her?" Lupin wasn't foolish; he had clearly caught the meaning behind Harry's shocked reaction.
"I can't confirm anything yet," Harry replied seriously. "I've heard that name before, but it dates back over seventy years. I need to do some research to be sure."
"Maybe it's just a coincidence," he added. "There are lots of people with the same name. Take Tom, for instance." Harry pointed at Lupin with a knowing look. "It's no surprise Voldemort gave himself a fancy title. Otherwise, if someone yelled 'Tom' in the street, half a dozen people would probably turn around."
"That would indeed be awkward," Lupin chuckled. If Voldemort had stuck with his real name, he'd have been the Dark Wizard Tom, or perhaps Dark Lord Tom? Oh, what a terrifying name! Tom? Ahaha—where's your Jerry?
Harry successfully steered the conversation away from the topic. Lupin, in turn, wisely refrained from pressing further. He was an adult, after all—someone who understood restraint, not a curiosity-driven child.
Besides, a name from seventy years ago shouldn't have anything to do with a twelve-year-old girl. That would be absurd. Sure, wizards lived long lives—reaching 150 years wasn't unheard of—but there was no magic to reverse aging. Not unless someone relied on a constant supply of Polyjuice Potion.
However, Polyjuice Potion only lasted an hour. At Hogwarts, many classes, including Defense Against the Dark Arts, were double sessions that stretched one and a half to two hours. Lupin had never seen the girl drink anything during class, not even water.
Transfiguration, on the other hand, was even less plausible. While ordinary wizards might not easily spot flaws in Transfiguration, Hogwarts was full of sharp-eyed, experienced wizarding professors. Unless someone was a rare natural-born Metamorphmagus, disguises would stand out under professional scrutiny. This wasn't just some subtle cosmetic change but a full-body transformation—bones, skin, and all.
Unfortunately, even Metamorphmagi could only change their facial features; none had ever been capable of altering their entire body.
Even someone as talented as Professor McGonagall, a top-tier expert in Transfiguration, couldn't sustain human Transfiguration for long. Half an hour was her absolute limit unless she stayed motionless. Complex movements would exponentially increase the difficulty of maintaining the spell.
It was precisely because of this knowledge that Harry was unsure of what to make of the situation.
What if I just knock her out and give her a few drops of Veritaserum?
The blunt, straightforward idea popped into Harry's head. Honestly, he couldn't think of a simpler or more effective method. If it turned out to be a misunderstanding, he could always use a quick Obliviate. Speaking of which, wasn't Lockhart, who had recently left Hogwarts, something of an expert in that spell?
Maybe I should drag Lockhart back here and put him to some "good" use?
'Turns Out Being a Bad Guy Feels So Much Better Than Being the Good One'
'It really is liberating to throw aside all those rules and restrictions,' Harry mused, relishing the thought. But despite the temptation, he couldn't act so recklessly just yet. The girl who bore the name Nagini carried far too many secrets—and perhaps even more concerning were the threads she might connect to.
Harry had ample reason to suspect that Voldemort's resurrection last year, after Harry had temporarily killed him, was tied to the diary housed in the Malfoy family's possession. This diary, intricately connected to the Chamber of Secrets, was currently the most likely artifact Voldemort would have used as a Horcrux for his revival. If Voldemort had indeed come back through the diary, his renewed interest in accessing the Chamber made perfect sense.
Harry didn't naively believe that the Chamber of Secrets contained nothing more than the basilisk. Salazar Slytherin, renowned for his dark magic research, was unlikely to have left behind such a significant location with so little in it. As one of the most famous wizards of his era, Slytherin's legacy surely extended beyond a single monstrous snake.
Perhaps Voldemort, in his earlier days, lacked the power to uncover more of the Chamber's secrets. Later, when his strength grew, he likely deemed the ancient creations of a thousand years ago as beneath him, outdated relics unworthy of his notice. But now, having fallen from his former heights, Voldemort might see the Chamber as a treasure trove of untapped power, a means to regain control.
The Malfoy family's wealth, while vast, couldn't buy everything. Despite having enough money to remain "filthy rich" even after their assets had been significantly reduced, there were treasures in the magical world that no amount of gold could procure. Moreover, their influence was largely confined to England; beyond their borders, few in the magical world cared for the Malfoys' prestige.
Severus Snape, for instance, commanded far more respect globally. His title as a Potions Master was recognized in every country, and the International Confederation of Potion Makers—a global powerhouse—was one of the most influential magical organizations. It even surpassed the World Duelist Association, of which Professor Flitwick was a member. Alongside associations for Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, and Alchemy, these elite groups formed the backbone of the magical world's infrastructure, together with the International Confederation of Wizards.
Voldemort wouldn't pursue the Chamber without good reason. Last year, he had been lured by the promise of the Philosopher's Stone, a prize of utmost importance to him at the time. But now, there was no bait to draw him back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore had no intention of dangling another lure, nor would he in the future.
'Let's hope it's not that Nagini,' Harry thought with a twinge of unease.
As Harry's mind raced through these possibilities, Lupin finished tidying up the Marauder's Map. The countless black dots representing Hogwarts' inhabitants reappeared on the parchment, but the dot marked as Nagini remained distinct, highlighted with a glowing outline.
"From now on, all you need to do is tap her name," Lupin explained, "and the other dots will disappear. You'll be able to see her entire route for the day."
He handed the map to Harry with a stern look. "If you find any trace of the Chamber of Secrets, do not act on your own. Come to me, or inform Professor Dumbledore. The last time the Chamber was opened, a student died. It's an incredibly dangerous place, Harry, and impulsive decisions often lead to disastrous consequences. Promise me you'll be careful."
"I understand, Uncle Lupin. Don't worry," Harry replied sincerely.
He tucked the Marauder's Map into his robes, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Lupin, and left the office, his mind spinning with thoughts of Nagini and the secrets that lay ahead.
(End of Chapter)