Chapter 45
The Captive of Slytherin
The Chamber of Secrets. Harry felt a small chill run down his spine. Somehow he had always known he wasn’t done with that chasm of darkness, that one day he would again venture into its stygian depths. It looked like that day was today. While he felt a small sense of foreboding, it was easily outweighed by the excitement at finding the map that supposedly led to the Half-Blood Prince. He quickly rose from his seat.
Dumbledore arose at the same time and their eyes met. The headmaster smiled, showing Harry they were thinking the same thing. With one accord they rushed towards the doorway of the headmaster’s office in order to make their way to the Chamber of Secrets.
“Wait, Albus, don’t go yet”” stammered Tradwell, “”tell us what else happened!”
“We’ll just wait here then, shall we?” came the sarcastic voice of Phineas Nigellus.
Deciding he would hurry on to the Chamber of Secrets alone if Dumbledore stopped to fill in the portraits on everything that had happened in the diary, Harry was amused when the headmaster continued running towards the door and shouted, “Fidelius Paciscorium!” as an explanation. They hurried down the rotating staircase (Harry almost lost his footing at the bottom step) and ran out into the corridor towards Moaning Myrtle’s second floor bathroom.
The corridors were empty as the students had all returned to their common rooms for the night. Harry had no idea exactly how late it was, but he had taken enough late-night strolls through the castle to know that the only other people likely to be roaming around were the ghosts, Filch, Ms. Norris, and possibly Snape.
“This way, Harry!” Dumbledore said suddenly as he darted behind a tall portrait into a secret passage. Harry skidded to a halt, retraced his steps, then followed him behind the portrait, amazed that he had never seen it before. Apparently the headmaster knew parts of the school even the Marauder’s Map didn’t.
They ran along a long passageway, up a small flight of stairs, and emerged in the third floor corridor next to the armor gallery. They continued running through the empty corridors, the pale light of the moon illuminating their way as they went. Dumbledore was surprisingly agile for a man of his age, no doubt owing to the prospect of solving a thousand year-old mystery before him.
“Do you know what this means, Harry?” said the headmaster as they turned another corner and jumped down a small set of stairs. “Not to get ahead of ourselves, but if the map is indeed in the Chamber and it leads to the Half-Blood Prince, we will have foiled Voldemort’s plan. He will not dare to challenge the Ministry if we have the help of the goblins and centaurs and will be forced to abide his time and gather more strength, which in turn will give us more time to embolden the wizard public and discover just how you are to destroy him.”
“Do you think the goblins and centaurs will help us, though?” Harry asked between breaths. “I mean, it was almost a thousand years ago when they made the promise.”
“They will have no choice, even if it was their ancestors who made the covenant,” Dumbledore explained, brushing aside a tapestry as they made their way through another secret passage. “Fidelius Paciscorium is very powerful magic. If the recipient of the covenant activates it, the goblins and centaurs will be bound to help us. This is definitely something Voldemort will not have bargained on.”
Feeling the excitement grow but telling himself there were still plenty of things that could go wrong, Harry focused instead on the empty passage before them. Soon they rounded the final corner and found themselves at the entrance of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. She must have been having tea with the merpeople (or whatever she did in her spare time), as the bathroom was completely empty. Harry ran over to the sink that he and Ron had descended nearly four years earlier and commanded the snake to open its passageway.
The tap of the sink radiated an immense white light and began spinning. Soon the sink sunk into the ground, revealing the gaping black hole of the secret passageway.
Harry was just about to dive in when the headmaster held out his hand.
“One minute, Harry,” he said. He pulled out his wand, whispered something, and a shining metal pole appeared in the air next to them. He waved his wand, muttered something else, and a long silver rope appeared, wrapping itself around the pole. He then grabbed hold of the end of the rope and turned to Harry.
“This will pull us back out when we return,” he said by way of explanation, then motioned towards the gaping, dark hole before them.
“After you.”
Without a second thought Harry launched himself down the slimy tube. Memories of his previous trip to the Chamber of Secrets flashed in his mind as they slid ever downwards. While that trip had been done under a cloud of panic and trepidation, this time there was a feeling of excitement and anticipation. Harry found himself anxious to get to the bottom.
Soon he shot out of the tube and onto the familiar, wet floor at the bottom. He pulled out his wand and ignited the tip. Dumbledore followed shortly after, a gleeful expression on his face as though he would have enjoyed a fast ride down a slimy tube even if the eldest son of Godric Gryffindor didn’t await him at the bottom. He brushed himself off and placed the silver rope between two rocks next to the exit of the sewer line, then nodded at Harry.
“Splendid fun. Perhaps we should look into having one built off the back of the Astronomy tower.”
Harry laughed and turned around to lead the way down the tunnel. Expecting to see the enormous pile of rock and rubble Lockhart had unwittingly caused to come crashing down during his second year, he was surprised to find the passageway completely clear.
“What”there used to be a wall of rock here…” he said confusedly.
“Ah yes,” the headmaster nodded. “Myself and a few others “ finding the passageway still open “ ventured down here to investigate the Chamber not long after you rescued young Miss Weasley in your second year. We took the liberty of cleaning up Professor Lockhart’s mess. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” replied Harry.
They ventured further into the cave. It was exactly as Harry remembered it, other than a deep, pervading stench that he didn’t remember having been there before. They soon reached the area where the floor had been littered with the discarded skeletons of small animals, and after that, to the giant doorway that led to the Chamber itself.
Harry looked up at the two intertwining serpents with emerald eyes engraved on the door. A strange sense of deja-vu came over him.
“Open,” he commanded. The giant stone doors swung open and he and the headmaster stepped into the Chamber.
This, too, was almost exactly as Harry had remembered it. A very long, high chamber lit with pale, green torches. An extremely high ceiling, lost in shadows, supported by rows of columns with more entwining serpents engraved in them. Something was different this time, however. Something large lay huddled in a heap at the far end of the Chamber, just under the statue of Salazar Slytherin. In addition to this, the stench he had noticed earlier was now nearly unbearable. As they came nearer to the heap and saw what it was, Harry blanched in horror.
It was the enormously long, half decayed carcass of a giant snake, its bones jutting upwards through mounds of rotting flesh. The basilisk.
Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed.
“I distinctly remember asking Professor Flitwick to clean up this mess. I shall have to have a word or two with him when we return…”
He waved his wand and a torrent of water gushed out from out of nowhere, sweeping the rotting carcass and its smell to the far side of the room where it disappeared into the shadows.
They then began searching the Chamber, looking for any sign of a hidden room.
“Now, let us go about this logically,” the headmaster said, stroking his long beard. “Do you remember what the note said, the one left by the infiltrator at the end of the diary?”
Harry thought back, trying to recall the harsh black writing he had seen.
“Er…something about a prison lying between the stones and the snakes, or something like that.”
“Yes,” the headmaster nodded, looking around the vast expanse of the Chamber. “‘twixt serpent and stone, a prison of nothingness…’” He looked over at the enormous statue of Slytherin.
“That is where the serpent resided for so many years, so perhaps we should start there.”
They walked over to the enormous statue and began searching it. Harry shuddered involuntarily as he walked in front of it, recalling the image of the giant basilisk pouring out of its mouth like a venomous, deadly ooze. He ran his hands over the cool, smooth surface of the stone, looking for a crack, a notch, anything that would suggest a hidden door.
“‘Hidden ‘twixt serpent and stone,’” he repeated out loud. “But this whole thing is made of stone.”
“Yes, but perhaps…” Dumbledore disappeared around the other side of the statue, a good twenty feet away from Harry, apparently investigating the back of it.
Harry had just begun considering the possibility that one of them might have to crawl into the statue’s mouth when he heard the headmaster call from the other side.
“Ah, I think this may be it. Harry, would you mind joining me over here?”
Harry quickly walked around the back side of the statue. It was darker back here and the stone hadn’t been sculpted like it had on the front, leaving it in its original, rough condition. He joined the headmaster and investigated the portion of the statue he was shining his wand on. Within the rough wall was a smoother, rectangular indentation “ almost the size of a doorway.
“I recalled this particular portion as you were examining the front of the statue,” he said amusedly. “We came across it during our original investigation. Trying every method we knew how to get it to open and failing, we gave it up as a dead end, possibly something Slytherin started but never had the time to finish.”
He ran his hand along the border of the indentation, dislodging centuries of dirt and grime. He then moved his hand to its center and did the same there, revealing the small, nearly unnoticeable etching of a snake. He smiled.
“It would appear, however, that we simply didn’t have the right key. Harry, if you will do the honors?”
He stepped aside, allowing Harry access to the door. Grinning, Harry stepped up to it and focused his attention on the snake. Doing his best to clear his mind, he spoke the words of command.
“Open for me.”
The snake glowed a pale, ghostly light just like the others and the stone panel slid sideways into the wall. A dark gaping hole stood in front of them. Without hesitation Harry stepped into the room, his heart racing with excitement.
At first he could see very little. The room was extremely dark and had an old, stale smell to it. He pointed his illuminated wand around the room, revealing an odd shape here and there but was unable to make anything out for certain. Everything appeared rather…fuzzy.
Soon he noticed Dumbledore’s light shining behind him, illuminating various parts of the room as well. Noticing a peculiar glass sphere on the wall, the headmaster pointed his wand at it and muttered something. Immediately the room was bathed in a pale, blue light.
It wasn’t quite what Harry had expected. Envisioning an elaborate setup, he was surprised (and somewhat disappointed) to find the room contained nothing more than a table, a couple bookcases filled with ancient, crumbling books, a dusty old frame hanging on a wall, and a heap of parchment in the corner. It looked more like a personal study room than the hidden lair of a powerful Dark Wizard. It was small and cramped, no bigger than one of the smaller staff offices he had been in, and appeared to be hewn into the back portion of the cave wall Slytherin’s statue had been carved into. It had the dry, ancient smell of the crypts about it and everything was covered with a thick blanket of dust, explaining the fuzziness Harry had seen earlier.
Leaving Dumbledore to look about the room, Harry walked over to the heap of parchment in the corner and began shuffling through the papers. They appeared to be various diagrams, notes, and journal entries “ all of which would undoubtedly be interesting to look over some day, but for now”
Suddenly he heard Dumbledore gasp loudly in surprise. Alarmed, Harry whirled around and found him kneeling on the ground, looking pointedly up at the wall in front of him. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape in an expression of astonishment Harry had seldom seen on anyone before.
Harry followed the headmaster’s line of vision and realized he was looking at the old, dusty frame Harry had overlooked when he entered the room. Now that he looked closer, however, he noticed there was something within its dusty borders “ a portrait. Of a woman. It was immensely worn, its colors faded and the painting itself slightly blurry, and it had a bronze tone to it that suggested it was either older than any other portrait he had seen or that it had been done using a different technique. His first thought was that it was odd for someone to place a portrait in a room such as this, but then he studied the woman’s face.
It took a second for realization to hit. When it did, however, he gasped in astonishment and fell to his knees as though he had been hit by a lightning bolt.
No. His mind reeled. Could it possibly be?
He had never seen her before “ had only heard her voice, yet somehow he knew it was her. Pale, white skin. Piercing blue eyes. Hair so black it reflected every point of light around it, almost like a raven…
He was looking into the face of Rowena Ravenclaw.
She regarded them curiously, apparently having been watching silently ever since they had entered. Her face was angular and finely proportioned with deep blue eyes that looked out from over an exquisitely formed nose, cheekbones, and lips. Her hair was straight and jet-black, falling along the sides of her pale white face like cascading waterfalls. She would have been considered attractive, though the scholarly, intelligent look about her suggested such things were childish and insignificant in her opinion. There was something majestic about the way she looked down at them from the frame, like an eagle surveying the world below from its mountain perch.
Harry had spoken with the Minister of Magic on several occasions. He had faced trial in front of some of the most powerful and influential wizards around. He had come face to face with centaurs, thestrals, dementors, giants, and dragons. He had even conversed with Voldemort “ a being so fearful that most people didn’t even dare say his name. Yet none of these encounters had filled him with the same sense of awe he felt at this moment. As he looked into the face of the woman whose experiences he had shared for the past year, Harry realized he was looking into the face of history, into the face of Hogwarts itself.
The Captive of Slytherin.
“Welcome. I have been waiting for you.” It was the same clear, even tone Harry had heard throughout the diaries. “Alas, I had feared I would never be discovered.”
They stared at her in silence for a few moments more. Harry realized Dumbledore was just as thunderstruck as he was. Apparently noticing this, a small smile of amusement played about Ravenclaw’s lips. Finally Dumbledore regained his composure enough to rise from the ground and give a deep bow.
“Mistress Ravenclaw, my apologies. While we journeyed here to find something valuable that had been stolen long ago, I must say neither of us were quite prepared to find you.”
“Then we share that commonality “ for I never expected to be found here,” she said with a dry smile. “Yet in finding me, you have found something that was stolen long ago, and I daresay something that will prove valuable. But first tell me “ who are you?”
Dumbledore smiled. “I am Albus Dumbledore, my lady, the current caretaker of your school. And this,” he motioned towards Harry, who had recovered himself enough to rise from the ground, “is Harry Potter, a student.”
Ravenclaw looked over Harry with her deep, observant gaze. She seemed to linger on his hair for a moment, then on his eyes. Harry got the feeling she was taking in much more than his outward appearance. She seemed to find something about him acceptable, however, for she nodded and said, “I bid both of you welcome again. Now tell me, what is it you seek?”
“A map, my lady,” replied Dumbledore.
“Then you have read my diaries.”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Then I am pleased to inform you that in finding me, you have found your map.”
Dumbledore and Harry both started.
“You’re the map?” Harry repeated, addressing the founder for the first time.
“Yes, pupil,” she replied calmly with a nod. “After secreting away my books of remembrance I soon realized that, despite my best efforts, the plan wasn’t without flaw. Although they had been hidden about the castle, made available only to the future stewards of this school, there was a small possibility of infiltration. Should an enemy of Gryffindor somehow be able to find the trail left by the diaries, the son of Godric Gryffindor would be found and the plot spoiled. I engineered one final safeguard to protect against this eventuality. That safeguard is me.”
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. “Brilliant…”
“And as time has shown,” she continued, looking downwards, “it was a wise preparation to take.”
“My lady”” began Dumbledore, taking a step towards her. “”how did it happen? How was the trail infiltrated?”
Rowena Ravenclaw regarded the headmaster silently for a moment, then spoke.
“Deretus Malagnor. A grandson of Salazar Slytherin and a pureblood fanatic, though he did well at hiding it from us until it was too late. I remember meeting him in my extreme old age. A bright youth, though a bit on the obsessive side. He was a master of Transfiguration and was eventually granted a post here as a professor long after I had passed away. Somehow “ I still do not know what methods he employed, though I’ve had an eternity to ponder the issue “ he discovered the secret of Wulfric’s disappearance and the existence of the diaries. Having access to the school and moving about undetected he was able to complete the trail to its conclusion.”
She had spoken flatly, emotionlessly “ as though reading facts from a book to a classroom of students. But here she paused and looked past them, as though she were seeing something far, far away.
“I still remember the zealous gleam in his eyes when he found me. ‘Victory for the noble,’ he had cried in triumph. When I refused to reveal Wulfric’s location, he cursed and tore most dreadfully and with gnashing teeth threatened to deliver me into the flames. The fool, as though threats of physical pain could sway me in this form,” she added, shaking her head.
“I realized then that the man’s fanaticism had completely robbed him of any power of reason. After making sure that I knew the trail of the diaries had been forever lost except to those who spoke the accursed forked-tongue”” Harry looked away from her, not wanting to make eye-contact, “”he consigned me to this pit of eternal darkness. For centuries I have waited, past any limits of human fortitude, centuries upon centuries of relentless, monotonous darkness.”
The small half-smile played about her lips again.
“And now, you have come. My long night is at an end.”
Dumbledore took a step towards her.
“My lady, our need is most dire. Will you tell us where Wulfric Gryffindor is hidden?”
“In due course, steward,” came her cool reply. “I first have another inquiry to make of you.”
“We are your servants, Mistress,” Dumbledore acquiesced graciously.
My diaries. Salazar’s Chamber. This prison “ all are locked against those who speak not the Serpent’s Tongue. How is it that two seekers of peace have overcome such an obstacle?”
Harry exchanged a look with the headmaster, who rose his eyebrows and nodded at him. Harry stepped forward to address the founder.
“I…I speak Parseltongue,” he said, feeling inexplicably guilty. She fixed her penetrating gaze on him.
“Truly?” she replied in interest. “Then you are an heir of Slytherin?”
“No,” Harry said quickly. “You see, er, Voldemort “ who is an heir of Slytherin “ left me with some of his powers after he, er…” he looked over at the headmaster again for help. “It’s kind of a long story.”
The portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw remained silent, watching him expectantly. It was apparent that she was perfectly content to wait through a long story. Thankfully the headmaster stepped forward.
“My lady, I will explain…”
Dumbledore then went on to explain Harry’s history and how it tied into a Dark Wizard named Voldemort. Ravenclaw sat patiently through the whole thing, assimilating the information with a keen interest. Harry got the impression she was always ready to take in new knowledge, even in portrait form. She seemed to be especially interested in the scar Voldemort had left behind. At length Dumbledore finished the story, explaining their current situation with the war and how they had been led to seek out the Half-Blood Prince. As he finished, the portrait looked at Harry with renewed interest.
“A fascinating story. And fittingly poetic “ an heir of Slytherin unwittingly bestowing upon another the power to bring about his own undoing. Interesting.”
She regarded him for a moment longer, something like admiration in her eyes. Then she looked at them both.
“I believe I have met this Dark Wizard of yours. Tell me, in his youth did he bear a resemblance to Mr. Potter?”
Harry and Dumbledore were both taken aback.
“Yes, Mistress,” Dumbledore replied in surprise. “How did you know that?”
“Because he was the last person to enter this room,” came the simple reply.
Dumbledore started. “The last person”?”
“Yes. A tall, black haired lad about fifty-years ago. Fifty-seven to be exact. He was extremely talented for his age, with a thirst for power that radiated from him in waves.” She turned towards Harry again.
“But I see the resemblance is limited to physical appearances. You have the look of compassion in your eyes, while he bore the mark of cruelty. It is not power you thirst for…” She said this last part mostly to herself, as though she were talking about the properties of a potion or analyzing an interesting animal specimen. It was strangely discomfiting.
“His name, my lady “ I am assuming it was Tom Riddle?” asked Dumbledore curiously, obviously interested in this new information.
“That I know not. But he was the first to enter the Chamber in quite some time “ five hundred and thirty-four years, to be exact,” she said in her flat, emotionless tone.
Harry briefly wondered how she could have kept track of time in this dark room, then realized anyone in her situation would have ample opportunity to find ways to keep their mind occupied.
“He wasn’t interested in me, however,” she continued. “Especially once he discovered he would receive no information concerning Wulfric Gryffindor. He didn’t appear too concerned, however, as his main interest seemed to be learning to control that fanged monstrosity of Salazar’s.”
She motioned with her head towards the books and parchment on the other side of the room on this last part. Apparently the knowledge on how to control the basilisk had been hidden in there. As he and the headmaster turned back to face the portrait, Dumbledore said aside to Harry, “And that’s why he never bothered with the fourth diary. Do you see? He must have found the Chamber of Secrets while he was on the trail of the diaries. He wouldn’t have cared about the Half-Blood Prince then.”
Harry nodded, trying to piece all this new information together. Dumbledore turned to address Ravenclaw.
“My lady, you are correct. That young man is indeed our Dark Wizard. He has since grown into a being of unimaginable power and influence “ even discovering a way to cheat death. He is gathering an army as we speak and intends to attack the government of our society, making slaves of us all. If he succeeds he will begin the systematic destruction of those not of pure-blooded heritage, along with those who fight for them. And I fear this will only be the beginning of the terror he will unleash.
Ravenclaw listened attentively. When the headmaster was finished, she shook her head sadly.
“Alas, I am sorrowful to see that society is waging the same war today as it was during my lifetime. It seems our race is doomed to perpetual stupidity. Yet perhaps Providence has seen fit to hold Wulfric and I in our respective prisons for so long for good reason. For if ever there was a need for his gift, it would appear to be now.”
A small hint of triumph lit up Ravenclaw’s features (Harry now realized any emotion felt by the most intelligent of the founders expressed itself on her face merely as a ‘small hint’), that both Harry and the headmaster took courage from. It soon disappeared, however, as a small furrow of concern broke across her brow.
“Yet never did I imagine he would be in his condition for so long. What it has done to him, I can only guess.”
“We will take our chances,” said Dumbledore.
“Of course. And the sooner he is released, the better.”
Dumbledore took another step forward.
“My lady, where is Wulfric Gryffindor?”
Rowena Ravenclaw fixed the headmaster with a majestic, discerning look. Her lips slanted slightly upwards in a mysterious smile that reminded Harry of the sphinx he had met in the Triwizard Tournament his fourth year.
“Come, steward. You are of a nimble mind. If my plan has in fact succeeded, you will likely be acquainted with him already.”
Silence. Dumbledore cocked his head slightly to the side in thought.
“In fact, I know it has succeeded, for I heard him not too long ago “ fighting against that slithering horror Salazar left as his legacy…”
Harry exchanged a startled look with Dumbledore. Ravenclaw regarded them with that same smile of cryptic amusement. She then shook her head, as though the answer should be obvious.
“He was given a form that would enable him to live throughout the centuries. He would have stayed in the general environs of the castle since then, possibly befriending those in whom he saw the spirit of his father. Waiting. Abiding his time until the covenant was sorely needed.”
Suddenly Dumbledore jumped backwards in disbelief. His eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets.
“NO! Can it be…?”
Ravenclaw looked at him amusedly, then nodded.
“Bring him to me. I should like to see him after all this time.”
Without a word the headmaster swept out of the room and began running towards the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Harry ran after him, supremely confused. What had he missed? What was Ravenclaw talking about? She hadn’t even told them what spell she had used on him “ all she had said was that he had been given a different form. ‘He would have stayed around the castle, befriending those in whom he saw the spirit of his father…’ What did that mean?
Seeing the headmaster beginning to pull away, Harry began to run faster, calling after him as he went. Dumbledore disappeared around the entrance and made his way to the tunnel at the bottom of the bathroom pipe. Harry picked up his speed, skidding across the crunchy, uneven ground of the bone-strewn entrance, and finally came to the wet tunnel. He was relieved to see the headmaster waiting at the bottom of the sewer pipe, silver rope in hand. There was an expression of exultant disbelief on his face and he was laughing.
“Professor, what’s going on? Who is it?” Harry demanded, a little more severely than he had intended. He didn’t like being kept in the dark, especially with something like this.
“Grab on,” the headmaster replied, not seeming to hear his questions. Harry grabbed onto the end of the rope and immediately it began pulling him towards the tube. He ducked in the nick of time and fell onto his stomach, then held on for dear life as they shot upwards, nearly as fast as they had slid down.
“Unbelievable! Simply unbelievable!” the headmaster shouted as they soared upwards. Harry could barely hear him for the rush of wind. “I found him in the mountains just north of here when I first began teaching. I had heard rumors from some of the other teachers, but wanted to find out for myself if they were true…”
“Find what out?” Harry shouted back, but his voice was lost in the roar of the wind.
“…became headmaster many of the others mentioned having seen or kept one…didn’t imagine we had all had the same one!” Dumbledore continued, though Harry only heard bits and pieces.
“Same one what?” Harry demanded angrily, though he was forced to concentrate on holding onto the rope.
Dumbledore shouted something else, but Harry didn’t hear. A pale light was beginning to illuminate the tunnel, meaning they were nearly back to its entrance. Momentarily forgetting his questioning for fear that they would be launched out of the opening and into the opposite wall of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, Harry settled when the rope suddenly slowed down, allowing Dumbledore to hop nimbly out onto the floor of the bathroom.
“Come, Harry!” he called joyfully and shot out of the room, leaving Harry to pick himself out of the tube.
“Professor, wait!” he called, realizing he had no idea where they were going. Seeing nothing would stop the headmaster in his enthusiasm, Harry hurriedly jumped out of the tube, slipped on some muck, and shot out of the bathroom as well. He ran out into the corridor just in time to see the hem of Dumbledore’s robes disappear around the corner to his left. He raced after him.
It was all Harry could do to keep up with the frantic pace of the headmaster. Whatever he had discovered had excited him so much he was running full speed through the corridors, and despite having the advantage of youth, Harry was hard pressed to keep up. After nearly losing him twice, Dumbledore finally turned a last corner and made his way down the corridor that led to his office.
Why his office? Harry wondered to himself. Did one of the past headmasters know something?
Harry arrived at the entrance to find the gargoyle already moved out of the way and the revolving staircase spiraling upwards. He flew up the stairs and burst into the office. The wall of portraits turned to look his way and pelted him with questions, though he didn’t hear any of them. He saw Dumbledore there with his back turned towards him, his attention on an area just to the right of his desk and slightly below the portraits.
Harry stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the scene before him.
NO.
The same stun of disbelief he had seen strike the headmaster hit him. His mind stumbled over the realization.
It couldn’t be…
It was too simple. Too preposterous. Too obvious.
It was brilliant.
‘Was given a form that would enable him to live throughout the centuries.’
Fawkes.
The phoenix.
Harry Potter and the Legacy of the Founders by VoldemortsPatronus
Chapter Notes: This was fun to write, though it almost did me in. I'll be especially interested to hear what you think with this one.
Thank heaven for three-day weekends. I'm just about finished with the story and will get it up as quickly as the moderators allow.