Chapter 37
The Crypt of Hogwarts
Harry descended the stairs as quickly as possible, taking three, sometimes four of them at a time. Twice he nearly tripped over his robes in his haste. A voice in his head told him he should probably slow down as the slightest misstep would send him hurtling head over heels to the bottom, but he couldn’t help it “ he had found a clue to the whereabouts of the Half-Blood Prince! He had to show Dumbledore.
When he finally reached the bottom of the staircase he hurried through the small antechamber and tore down the corridor that led towards the headmaster’s office, disturbing a number of tapestries and portraits as he blew past. The ancient parchment with the cryptic note he clenched tightly in his left hand (afraid it might disappear if he eased his grip). In his right he held his wand. Realizing he wouldn’t need it anymore, he hurriedly shoved it back into his robes as he rounded a corner and leapt up a short staircase to the second floor. He ran through that corridor until it intersected with the one that led to Professor Grendelhall’s office, took a sharp left, and up another staircase. There were a number of students in this corridor, apparently on their way back to their common rooms after dinner.
“Hey! Slow down!”
“…What the…”
“Potter, what’s “ ouch!”
He ignored them and continued to run. After several more sharp turns, staircases, and hidden doors, he came at last to the corridor that led to the headmaster’s office. As he ran towards the large, ugly gargoyle that stood guard over the door Harry looked up to see someone at the far end of the corridor facing him. It looked like Draco Malfoy.
He couldn’t be sure, however, for when he looked up again the person had darted off around the corner, apparently in a hurry to get somewhere himself. Brushing it off Harry ran up to the gargoyle and was just about to shout the password when he realized that it had already leaped out of the way, leaving the doorway to the spiral staircase open. Not seeing anyone coming down them, he ran through the entrance and up the stairs. The oak door with the griffin knocker was open as well. He hastily entered the office and found the Dumbledore walking towards him, his attention on something to Harry’s right.
“Professor!”
The headmaster looked up.
“Ah Harry. We were just on our way out,” he said cheerfully. “Has “”
“Professor! …the Astronomy Tower…snake…bookcase “ I found something!” Harry gasped out, completely out of breath. The headmaster’s eyebrows rose slightly, telling Harry he hadn’t understood. He took a couple breaths and tried again.
“Sir! Wulfric Gryffindor…I was in the Astronomy Tower room looking at the bookcase. I found a small snake marking in the wall behind it and spoke to it in Parseltongue. An old… this…appeared. Look!” Harry held up the old piece of parchment.
The mention of the bookcase in the hidden Astronomy Tower room definitely got the headmaster’s attention. His eyes grew extremely wide and he snatched the parchment from Harry’s hand.
Dumbledore quickly read over the parchment, eyes darting from left to right, an intense, incredulous look on his face. When he was finished he looked up at Harry.
“No…this…you…!”
For the first time since Harry had known him, Professor Dumbledore looked completely, utterly flabbergasted. His mouth hung limp and open. His eyes, usually full of mirth and intelligence, now registered only supreme astonishment. On top of all this he was also at a total loss for words, something else Harry had never seen before in the headmaster, who was usually a paragon of composure and self-discipline. The sight was oddly satisfying.
“Er…is everything all right, Albus?” said a voice suddenly to Harry’s right. He wheeled around. A middle-aged, official looking wizard in purple robes stood just a few yards away from him next to the door. In his excitement to show Dumbledore what he had found Harry had completely overlooked him.
Dumbledore coughed and looked up from the parchment to the man, doing his best to regain his composure.
“Arrarrm. Erm. Ah yes, Tristan. Yes, everything is just fine. Harry here is just updating me on a…an assignment I gave him not too long ago. I must say he has done exceptionally well. Would you mind meeting me outside in the hall? I have a word or two for him before we depart.”
“Of course, Albus,” the man replied suspiciously, giving them a look that made it obvious that he wouldn’t mind staying to see what the excitement was all about. He threw his cloak over his shoulders and started making his way out of the office. “I’ll…er…just meet you outside, shall I? Though I needn’t remind you of the terrible hurry we are in…”
“Of course. I will be brief,” said Dumbledore with a short, graciously bow. He smiled politely as the man named Tristan walked out of the office. Once he had descended the stairs and was out of earshot Dumbledore turned quickly back towards Harry, eyes blazing with an excited, eager look.
“Listen Harry, I must be quick “ there is an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot that I must get to. Here is what I want you to do.” He held up the small piece of parchment.
“The crypt. It appears that is where the next diary has been hidden. Take your friends, go to the crypt of Hogwarts. Ask my colleagues,” he nodded in the direction of the portraits hanging on the wall (many of whom were looking interestedly in their direction, aware that something was going on), “how to get there. The password is archio renovo. I will attempt to excuse myself from the meeting as soon as possible, but with any luck you will have found the diary by then. Any questions?”
“Er…no sir,” replied Harry, pretty sure he did have some questions but unable to think straight for all the excitement.
“Excellent. Then I must be off!”
Dumbledore took one step, paused, and turned back around to face Harry, a proud, amazed expression on his face.
“Remarkable boy…”
With that he swept out of the office and joined the wizard waiting outside the office. Remembering that he had instructed him to ask the past headmasters (all of whom were now looking fixedly in his direction) about the location of the crypt, Harry turned and walked quickly towards them, almost knocking over a table with the mysterious silver instruments on it. Phineas Nigellus spoke just as he reached the headmaster’s desk.
“Mr. Potter, we perceive something of significance has occurred.”
Still in slight shock at everything that had just happened, Harry did his best to fill them in. He told them how he had accidentally come across the sign of the serpent (leaving out, of course, the part about trying to blast the bookcase into smithereens), about how he had spoke in Parseltongue to it and how the mysterious note had appeared. He then read them the note, having to pause a couple times to make sure he was doing it right.
To say the portraits listened intently would be an understatement. Each one sat riveted to Harry’s every word, completely silent except for the occasional exclamation of surprise or disbelief. Even Fawkes seemed to be listening. After he finished there was a brief, stunned silence that lasted about five seconds.
Then the room erupted into pure bedlam.
“At last! At last! Our troubles weren’t for nothing after all!” cried the red-nosed wizard Fortescue.
“Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable!” said one of the witches.
“Incredible!” exclaimed another.
“But wait, how did they know how to find …?”
“Ha Ha! I told you there was something there, didn’t I, Percival?” the blonde wizard named Tradwell bellowed triumphantly across the room to Percival, the bald headmaster with the dark, black ringlet-filled beard who had claimed they were all fools for believing in Wulfric Gryffindor.
“Well, it appears some of us owe Albus an apology for underestimating the boy,” Harry heard Phineas Nigellus say, an impressed look on his face.
“…who could have stolen it and left the note? Surely it wasn’t one of us…?”
“A devilish knave! Thievery, debauchery!” quivered one of the older looking portraits.
“Hold on, the boy speaks Parseltongue?”
“Potter…Potter!” shouted Tradwell. Harry looked at him, trying to hear his voice over the din.
“Read the message again. What does it say?”
The rest of the portraits must have heard the question, as they immediately quieted down. Harry read from the note again.
”’Victory!
Our battle won
the spoil plundered,
the Traitor’s seed never
to be discovered!
Should ye desire the path to Slytherin’s Captive,
seek thou the place where our dead brethren slumber.
Within the Defender’s cold embrace thou’llt find
the next key thou needest to find our plunder.
But friend of Slytherin beware,
lest the enemy thy purpose discover.
Our noble design foiled, the battle lost
and nature’s true Order again perverted.’”
Once he finished the portraits immediately began talking again.
“The crypt! How do I get to the crypt?” Harry quickly yelled, knowing if he let them go it would be some time before he got their attention again. He was anxious to get out of the office and find the next diary. It worked, as most of the portraits stopped talking and looked back down in his direction.
“Professor Dumbledore told me to go to the crypt. He said you could tell me how to get there.”
“Never mind the crypt, lad, that’s the easy part,” said Tradwell, shaking his head. “First we need to know who this ‘Defender’ chap the poem’s talking about is. Sounds like he’s the one with the diary. Fortescue, have you any idea who he is?”
“No Tradwell,” replied the red nosed, corpulent wizard, shaking his head.
“McCaffrey?”
“Not an inkling old boy.”
“Anyone else?”
The rest of the portraits shuffled in their frames, thinking.
“Well then there’s no use sending the lad all the way down to the crypt if we don’t kn….”
But Tradwell never got the chance to finish his statement, as one of the portraits called out, “Quiet “ Mortimer’s speaking!” and everyone fell silent, looking towards the top of the wall. Harry craned his head backwards as well and his eyes rested on the ancient, faded portrait of Mortimer Darlisscrop, the first headmaster to be immortalized in portrait form. It had been him who had given Harry the legend of the Half-Blood Prince in its entirety. The ancient wizard removed his tiny spectacles from his withered face and polished them on his vest before speaking.
“Dalthrop Rectillius the fifth. He was the first member of Slytherin’s house to be appointed headmaster and a passionate advocate of keeping Hogwarts for pure-bloods only. Although he was bound by his appointment to accept students of all backgrounds, he never wavered in his opinions, believing the ideology that nature had given wizardkind a mandate to subdue Muggles and the other magical races and lead them to a new order. His championing of this cause earned him the moniker “the Defender” by those who shared his ideology. He was also renowned for his ““
“Wonderful, Mortimer. Wonderful.” Tradwell interjected excitedly. “Have you any idea where Rectillius is buried?”
They all craned their heads upwards to hear the reply. Mortimer sat looking straight forward as though he was turning pages in an encyclopedia in his mind. Apparently finding the right spot, he again removed his glasses and polished them on his vest (though Harry was quite sure they were still clean) before answering.
“In honor of his contributions to the cause of the pure-bloods, Headmaster Rectillius’s followers erected a special mausoleum for him in the original crypt of Hogwarts. It is marked with two golden pillars and the Rectillius coat of arms “ a crown with three wands. It is on the far south side of the crypt, as I recall. Shortly after Rectillius’s mausoleum was constructed the crypt went through the first of its two expansions before being closed as it was determined impractical to….”
“Golden pillars, crown and three wands, I know the place you are talking about”” interrupted Tradwell, cutting Mortimer’s history lesson short again. “Potter, when you enter the crypt and walk through the main entry chamber you will find a hallway opening off through an archway far to the right. Walk through that archway and follow the corridor a ways until you see the two pillars Mortimer mentioned on your right. You’ll find Rectillius’s old carcass in there!”
“Yes, but that still doesn’t answer the question as to who stole the diary in the first place, does it?” said a thoughtful, square-jawed witch on the bottom-left.
“Blast it, woman, we’ll have plenty of time to think about that later! The third diary is within our grasp! Go, lad! What are you waiting for?”
In his excitement Harry took a couple of steps towards the door, then realized they still hadn’t answered his original question. He stopped.
“Er…so how do I get to the crypt?”
“Past dungeon number five, past the statue of Hurl the Hunted until you see the iron portcullis,” blurted out, surprisingly enough, Percival. Apparently this new development had sparked his interest in the Half-Blood Prince again. “Simply raise the portcullis and exit through it. On the other side you will find a corridor leading off to the left, but the door you want will be directly ahead of you””
“Wait, I thought the statue of Hurl the Hunted was in the 4th floor corridor by the Advanced Healing classroom. When did it get moved down to mark the way to the crypt?” asked the square jawed witch.
“We moved that ages ago, Gladys. And they don’t even teach Advanced Healing anymore. Now don’t interrupt,” said Tradwell.
“As I was saying. Go through the first door you see after the portcullis, I believe it is made of wood. You will find the crypt to your left. It is a large, stone door engraved with ancient runes. The password is Morte Diem.”
“No, Morte Diem was the password when you were headmaster, Percival. That was two-hundred years ago. It’ll have changed by then,” said a different portrait, this one newer looking than the others. Harry recognized it as Armando Dippet, the man who had been headmaster just before Dumbledore. “We need the current password. The boy will never be able to get past the wards placed there without it.”
The portraits looked at one another with looks of disappointment. Apparently no one knew the password.
The password. Harry’s mind raced. Dumbledore had said something about a password before he left. What was it he had said?
“Ar, archi…Archio renovo!” The portraits looked up in surprise. “That’s it! Archio renovo. Dumbledore told me before he left.”
“Excellent! Then what are you waiting for?” cried Tradwell with an exuberant look on his face. The rest of the portraits nodded eagerly. “Make haste. We’ll be waiting for your return!”
Not needing to be told twice Harry turned and ran out the door, hearing the portraits resume their excited discussion as he left. He had just turned towards the dungeons when he remembered Dumbledore’s instruction to take Hermione and Ron with him. Although he didn’t know if the headmaster had a specific reason for giving him the instruction, he knew it was a good idea. Venturing to the mausoleum of a deceased pure-blood fanatic hidden in a secret crypt, all alone and at night wasn’t exactly an appealing idea. He did a quick about-face and headed towards the Gryffindor common room instead.
He arrived to find that most of his classmates were still awake and hanging about. Doing a quick scan over the crowd he found Ron and Hermione sitting together by the fireplace, quills, parchment, and books spread across a table in front of them. He quickly searched for Ginny as well, but, not finding her, swept across the room to where Hermione and Ron were sitting. They looked up as he approached.
“Harry! There you are. We were wondering where”“
“I need to tell you something. Come with me,” interrupted Harry, cutting Hermione off mid-sentence. He motioned towards the door.
They looked at him quizzically at first, then, seeing something in his demeanor that told them it was best not to ask questions, followed him outside. He filled them in on his trip to the Astronomy Tower as they walked briskly down the stairs.
“WHAT! YOU FOUND SOMETHING?” Hermione squealed. “THE THIRD DIARY?”
Harry quickly shushed her, looking around the corridor to see if anyone had overheard. Fortunately it was empty.
“Sorry!” she said apologetically. “But you’re serious? You found it?”
Ron watched him wordlessly, mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“No, not the diary “ somebody stole it ages ago. A note. A note that tells us where we can find the diary. That’s where we’re going,” Harry explained quickly, trying to think of the fastest route to the dungeons at the same time.
“But who could steal the diary? I thought only headmasters were supposed to know about it,” asked a confused Ron.
“I dunno. Doesn’t really matter, does it? As long as we get the diary and find Wulfric Gryffindor, who cares?” They turned a corner and made their way past the Great Hall and down the staircase that led to the Slytherin common room. Noticing the strange route they were taking, Hermione turned towards him and whispered.
“So where exactly are we going?”
“The crypt.”
Ron and Hermione gasped simultaneously.
“The crypt? Harry, that’s…it’s…the crypt is in the forbidden part of the dungeons. We’re not allowed there. Perhaps we should wait. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t want us wandering about the dungeons.”
“You’re sure about that, are you?” said Harry with a laugh as they passed the part of the dungeon where Snape’s stored old cauldrons and other Potions supplies. “Because he’s the one that told me to do it.”
“Oh,” she replied, taken aback. “He knows then?”
“Of course he knows. He would have come too but he had some Wizengamot meeting to go to.”
Harry stopped speaking as they passed Snape’s office. Technically they were well within their rights to be in this part of the castle at this time of night, but it was better to not even risk it with Snape. Once they were out of range, he resumed.
“I’ve never seen him so excited, actually. Looked like he was seriously considering skiving off the meeting. He said he’d try to get away as soon as he could, but to get you two and try to go get it on our own. But if you’d rather wait Hermione…”
“Oh no!” she said quickly. Harry could tell she was almost as excited as he was to find the next diary. “No. I just didn’t want to get in trouble.”
“Wait a minute. I didn’t know Hogwarts even had a crypt,” said Ron as they descended yet another staircase, going deeper and deeper into the depths of Hogwarts.
“Well, according to Hogwarts a History, they used to bury past headmasters, teachers, and students who went on to become prominent wizards or witches in the crypt. They did it as a token of appreciation for service to the school. But as time went on and more and more people requested it, the crypt got so full that it was no longer practical to keep burying people there. That and there was a severe problem with ghouls infesting the crypt and disturbing classes. Now only past headmasters receive the honor of being buried at Hogwarts, and they do that in a graveyard outside,” said Hermione in a scholarly, erudite tone that distinctly reminded Harry of Mortimer.
Suddenly she looked over at Harry, her brow furrowed in concern.
“But only select members of the staff know how to get to the crypt. I’ll bet some of the teachers themselves don’t even know how to…”
“I know how to get there, Hermione,” said Harry automatically.
“Oh. Good.”
At length they passed the statue of Hurl the Hunted (an old, stooped man holding a lantern and wearing a bewildered look on his face) and came to a dimly lit corridor that contained nothing but a few old tapestries and the odd sculpture. The stone walls here were rougher and darker than the rest of the castle. They immediately began looking for the iron portcullis the portraits had mentioned, but not seeing it, they continued to the end of the hallway and down a short staircase that opened up into another, narrower hallway that went for about twenty feet before ending abruptly in a blank, stone wall. Seeing nothing there they retraced their steps back up the stairs and into the first dimly lit corridor, eyes peeled for any sign of an iron portcullis.
Harry hadn’t thought it would be hard to spot something as large and distinctive as a portcullis, but it was several minutes before they found it. Hermione had been inspecting one of the old, faded tapestries when she discovered it actually was a representation of a castle wall, complete with a sturdy, rusted portcullis in the center. Having no luck with Alohomora or searching for a hidden passage behind the tapestry, Harry decided to do just what Percival had said and ‘open the portcullis’. He reached out, grabbed where the bar was printed on the tapestry, and lifted it up. Surprisingly enough the portcullis raised, revealing an opening behind the tapestry that hadn’t been there before. Tentative but curious, they stepped through one at a time, emerging into another corridor.
“Brilliant!” said Hermione, looking back at the opening they had just stepped through. “What an excellent way of keeping the crypt hidden. I mean, who would have thought of trying that?”
They looked around the new corridor. It was the same rough, dark stone as the other and had a few doors set into the walls. It went for about twenty feet, then branched off to the left, hinting of further corridors and rooms beyond.
“How big is this place?” said Ron, shaking his head. “Where are we supposed to go now?”
“There should be a wooden door…they said it would be…Ah. This is the one.”
Harry located the wooden door Percival had told him about just in front of them, slightly hidden in the shadows. He reached out and placed his hand on the smooth, old wood and gave it a push. It didn’t move. He pushed harder. It budged a little, then slammed shut. There was pressure on the other side of the door, almost as though something were pushing against it. Putting all his weight on the door this time he took a breath, readied himself, and gave a mighty heave. The door resisted at first, then finally flew open as a mighty gust of cold, damp air that smelled like bat droppings blew through the opening. He quickly stepped into the darkness and leaned against the door to allow Ron and Hermione entry. Once they were through he moved out of the way and the door snapped shut.
“What is this place?”
Hermione and Ron had lit their wands and were using them to investigate their new surroundings. They were no longer in a corridor, but in some large, natural cavern deep underneath Hogwarts. It wasn’t very wide, perhaps only twenty feet or so in diameter, but was so high they couldn’t see the ceiling when they shone their wands straight up.
“There must be an opening somewhere, a vent of sorts, otherwise there wouldn’t have been that gust of wind,” Hermione said absently as she directed the light from her wand to various parts of the cavern. Suddenly she stopped and emitted a small shriek that echoed throughout the cavern.
Harry and Ron turned quickly in alarm to face what she was looking at. Harry felt Ron jump in fright beside him and he removed his wand from his robe pocket. There was a dark, slender figure standing in the corner, its face hidden beneath a hood. He was about to fire off a spell, but stopped just as the words were forming on his lips. The figure wasn’t moving. He cast Lumos instead and found the figure to be made of smooth, dark marble.
“It’s just a statue, Hermione.”
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “It’s just, we’re looking for a crypt, and it’s completely dark…”
Something catching his attention, Harry shone his light behind and slightly below the figure. There was an alcove of sorts there, carved into the natural rock of the cavern. On closer inspection he realized there were several more figures behind the first one, and behind them a large stone door with ancient runes and inscriptions set into it. Harry felt his heart begin to race.
The crypt.
He quickly walked across the cavern to the alcove. The door rested on a stone platform that sunk three steps below the floor of the rest of the cavern. It was tall, narrow, and covered with runes and strange inscriptions. He was about to reach out and run his hand along its smooth stone surface, but something told him it was probably safer not to.
“This is it! This is the door to the crypt,” he called to Ron and Hermione, who quickly walked over to join him. He spoke the password Dumbledore had given him.
“Archio Renovo!”
It worked. There was the deep, rumbling sound of stone grinding on stone as the two sides of the door swung inwards, inviting them into the cold, black lap of death. He felt Ron and Hermione tense up behind him, but plunged into the darkness without a second thought. The excitement he felt at finding the third diary overrode any foolish childhood fears of the dark and crypts.
There was a dank, musty smell to the room. Though he couldn’t see anything yet, Harry could tell the ceiling was low, just a foot or two over his head. The beam of light from his wand illuminated a number of dark shapes in front of him, but didn’t seem to go very far, as if the all-pervading darkness of the room was swallowing it up. Stumbling down an unseen stair, he decided they had better find a better source of light than their wands if they were to venture much further. He cast his light on the nearest wall. It took some searching, but eventually he found a small, glass globe, not unlike the one in the hidden Astronomy Tower room.
“Accendo.”
The room illuminated slightly. Catching on, Ron and Hermione looked around for more of the glass globes and began igniting the magical fire within. Soon they were able to get their first real look at the crypt.
Harry had been right; the ceiling was comparatively low, perhaps only seven feet. The room itself was relatively long, stretching back at least a hundred feet or so before ending in the opposite wall, though the large amount of effigies, coffins, tombs, and sarcophagi combined with the low ceiling gave the room a crammed, almost claustrophobic feel, as though they were exploring a rocky cave. Ron and Hermione, feeling more at ease due to the increased light, ventured into the room and began investigating the different tombs.
“Look, this is the tomb of Eleanor Woodcastle!” called Hermione. “She wrote the definitive works on Jobberknoll migration patterns. Died in 1405…”
“Blimey, this one died in 1162. Reckon he knew the founders personally?”
As they read over the various inscriptions set into the graves, Harry impatiently studied the outer wall of the room feeling. At the moment all he cared about was locating the diary and taking the next step on the path to Wulfric Gryffindor. There would be plenty of time to investigate the crypt later.
“…And Travian Tettleburn, he was the first headmaster to institute a Muggle Studies class at Hogwarts, even though everybody thought it was a waste of time…”
“Hey, this bloke was ‘…brutally mauled while defending Hogwarts from a nomadic band of Mountain Trolls’” Ron read from a nearby tomb. “It’s even got a picture “ urrgh.”
Harry quickly thought back to the directions Tradwell had given him. He had said the corridor that led to Rectillius’s mausoleum branched off from the right wall of the main chamber. He quickly scanned the wall. He thought he saw an opening of some kind, though it was hard to tell for all the statues and pillars in the way. He made his way around a couple of larger, elaborately decorated tombs so he could get a better look.
There it was. An old archway set into the wall, opening into a dark corridor beyond.
“It’s through here!” he called excitedly to Ron and Hermione, his impatience turning into anticipation as he rushed into the darkness, wand ignited.
“Harry, wait up!” he heard Ron call out, though his voice quickly faded away as Harry moved deeper into the corridor. He broke into a run. Plaques, inscriptions in the wall, open doorways leading to the tombs of other headmasters flew by. The beam of light from his wand hit on something just ahead of him and reflected back. It was a shiny, gold surface. A pillar…
He ran towards it. As he came closer he saw a second golden pillar set into the wall next to it. Engraved in the wall above the pillars was a family crest consisting of a crown and three crossed wands. The mausoleum of Dalthrop Rectillius the fifth.
Harry passed through the open doorway and directed his light on the walls, looking for another glass globe to illuminate the room. Finding a couple of old torches in iron sconces instead, he ignited them and got his first glimpse of the mausoleum.
It was impressive. A large, circular room with elaborate tapestries on the walls, an ornate coffin resting on a sunken dais in the center of the room, flanked by two dark, hooded statues almost exactly like the one they had seen outside the crypt, though one of these had its wand out and was pointing it at him…
What happened next caught Harry completely by surprise.
“Stupify!” the statue holding the wand shrieked in a shrill, vitriolic voice that echoed through the room.
The spell hit Harry straight in the face, knocking him backwards into the wall. His entire body went numb and he collapsed forward, smashing his head on the corner of something hard and made of stone on his way down. He caught a glimpse of his assailant’s face as he fell. It wasn’t a statue at all.
It was Bellatrix Lestrange.
He heard her cackle in triumph as he lay on the floor. He had landed in an awkward, twisted position where all he could see was the rough surface of the stone floor, the part of the room by the coffin, and, just above him, the entrance to the doorway he had just come through. He tried to move his arms, but it was useless. There was no feeling in his body at all.
“You see, Caspin? The Dark Lord knows. He always knows,” Harry heard her say as she circled around the room towards him.
“Astounding,” said a second voice, this one that of a deeper male.
What on earth was Bellatrix Lestrange doing in the crypt? How on earth did she get in the crypt? Had someone let her in? Did she know a hidden passage? And how had she known he would be there? These questions and more raced through his mind. Yet as he lay immobile on the floor, his gaze fixed on the open doorway in front of him, he realized it didn’t matter. She was there, and any moment now Ron and Hermione would come around that corner, completely unaware of what was waiting for them. He watched the door helplessly, dreading the moment they appeared.
But they didn’t come.
Harry heard Bellatrix and the Death Eater named Caspin move closer towards him, their long Death Eater robes sliding across the floor. Still Ron and Hermione didn’t come.
Had he lost them somehow? Run so fast they couldn’t retrace his steps? Impossible. They had been right behind him. They should have been there by now.
“Bind him fast. I’ll get his wand,” he heard Lestrange order from behind him. He heard Caspin’s footsteps come towards him while Lestrange’s moved away. They stopped suddenly as she bent over to pick up his wand. Just then he caught a flash of something in the doorway. A second voice rang out.
“Expelliarmus!”
The spell rocketed over Harry and apparently hit Lestrange in the chest, as she emitted a strangled cry and smashed into the stone wall opposite the doorway. Hermione.
Suddenly Ron came surging around the door and yelled, “Stupefy!” His spell shot across the room and hit Caspin, causing him to slump over the large coffin and onto the ground. By this time Bellatrix Lestrange had gotten to her feet, gnarling like some sort of rabid animal.
“Crucio!” she bellowed.
Harry watched as Ron dove to the ground behind the coffin in an effort to avoid the spell. It hit a tapestry on the wall behind him, causing it to burst into flames. Hermione was still at the doorway, shooting stunner spells into the room at Lestrange, who deflected them and sent a burning yellow bolt back at her. Hermione dodged out of the way at the last second and the spell hit the wall behind her, leaving a small crater.
Harry lay there, completely helpless, as his friends did their best to fight off the female Death Eater. She had now moved into his line of sight and he could see her deranged, vicious face as she fired off spell after spell. There was a maniacal, victorious gleam in her eyes that told Harry his friends wouldn’t be able to last very long. It was only a matter of time…
Just then he heard Hermione yell, not into the room, but down the hallway.
“PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE, BELLATRIX LESTRANGE IS IN HERE! HURRY!”
Dumbledore? He was here? Had he gotten out of his meeting early? Hope began to well up inside Harry. From his vantage point on the floor he saw Bellatrix hesitate, the confident look on her face suddenly shattered. Her eyes darted uncertainly over to a dark corner of the room, apparently weighing her options.
“QUICK SIR! SHE’S GOTTEN HARRY!” Hermione yelled again.
Bellatrix Lestrange whirled around and ran towards the corner of the room she had just glanced at, out of Harry’s line of sight. He heard a quick grinding of stone followed by Ron’s voice as he shot a final stunner after her. Apparently she deflected the spell, as a red streak of light shot over Harry and into the wall next to him. There was the sound of stone on stone again, followed by Ron’s heavy breathing as he ran to the wall, then nothing.
Silence. For a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Harry, no one said anything. Finally Hermione entered the room and came to his side.
“Ennervate!”
All at once he regained the power of movement.
“Harry, are you ok?” she asked breathlessly, kneeling down next to him.
He sat up slowly, reaching a hand up to his head. There was a gash and some hair matted with blood where his head had been hit, but other than that he was all right.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It was just a stunner.” He rubbed the back of his head and looked towards the open doorway.
“But…where’s Dumbledore? Did he already go after Lestrange?.”
“He’s not here. I said that because I knew it would scare her,” replied Hermione uneasily as she looked about the room. The dancing light cast strange, moving shadows against the walls, making every corner and nook look like it had a Death Eater waiting to leap out from it.
Despite the throbbing in his head, Harry couldn’t help but be impressed with Hermione’s quick thinking.
“This is not good. We need to get out of here. What if there are more Death Eaters we don’t know about, or if she decides to return?”
Harry agreed. They needed to get the diary and alert someone in the castle as soon as possible.
“Oy, what should we do with this one?” asked Ron, prodding the stunned Death Eater with his own wand.
“We’d better bind him, that spell could wear off any minute.”
Ron set to work conjuring ropes to tie up the stranded Death Eater, while Harry quickly got up and went over to the tomb. It was about four feet tall and made entirely of a sleek, black marble that reflected the dancing fire of the torches. The top slab sealing the tomb was at least a foot thick. On top of it lay the full-sized effigy of the man buried beneath, a callous, bitter expression on his face and his arms folded across his chest. An elaborate network of runes and other engravings surrounded the effigy. As he stood there, studying its surface, Hermione came up next to him.
“So where’s the diary supposed to be hidden?” she asked nervously, her eyes darting back and forth from the open doorway to the corner with the hidden passage Bellatrix Lestrange had just disappeared into.
“The note says it’s ‘embraced in the arms of the Defender.’ This is the Defender, so I suppose it’s in his arms. We need to get in there somehow.”
Hermione studied the tomb quickly.
“Well, I suppose we could try Wingardium Leviosa, though this slab has got to be awfully heavy.”
Harry thought quickly. They could try to levitate the top off, or they could try Dissippio, the spell Lupin had taught him. But something didn’t feel right about either option. The name ‘Defender’ denoted reverence, respect. He doubted whoever had hid the diary here would want the corpse disturbed in any way. It wasn’t his style. There had to be some other way…
Harry quickly looked back over the effigy. He scanned its clothes, head, and legs. Nothing out of the ordinary. He repeated the words of the note in his head.
‘Embraced in the arms of the Defender…’
The arms. He looked closer. The arms were folded across the man’s chest. In his right hand he held his wand. His other hand was empty, except for a flat stone ring.
A ring with the small, twisted form of a snake engraved into it.
Knowing this was exactly what he was looking for, Harry shut his eyes and did his best to clear his mind. He took a few deep breaths. When he reopened his eyes he focused on the tiny snake, ignoring Hermione’s questioning.
“Open for me”
The snake started to glow, and all at once the section of the effigy where the arms crossed, about a square-foot across both ways, began to sink. Hermione gasped. The section went down an inch or so, stopped, then slid to the right, disappearing into the side of the stone slab. Within the hole it left rested a rectangular object the size of a book and wrapped in some sort of animal skin. Harry withdrew the object and took off its covering.
The third diary.
Without a word he wrapped it back up, placed it under his arm, and made his way towards the door. Hermione and Ron joined him. Quickly, quietly, they left the crypt and returned to the castle, glancing anxiously over their shoulders the entire way.
Harry Potter and the Legacy of the Founders by VoldemortsPatronus
Chapter Notes: Sorry about the delay on this one. On top of this chapter being a beast to write, I've been pretty busy with the holidays (ironic, I know) and haven't been able to get to it as much as I would like.
My goal is to have the story finished by Christmas, though I doubt I can get the chapters approved quickly enough to have the entire thing up by then. Either way, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to write in with your thoughts. They are much appreciated.