Chapter 4

Harry stared at the odd sight before him. He had just awoken in the Hospital Wing, something that he hoped he wouldn't do often, to the sight of a strange man standing at the foot of his bed. He had wavy brown hair, brown eyes, appeared to be in his early thirties and had the relatively pale complexion of a man who spent more time indoors than out. Combined with his lithe, swimmers build and slightly below average height, it had the effect of making him seem to be absolutely and completely unassuming; he had the appearance of a person who you could bump into on the sidewalk and forget about them almost immediately when they were out of sight.

As such, it was his rather colorful robes that gained his attention first. They were a very bright green, with purple trim and golden symbols stitched into the front.

The man smiled charmingly. "Have any pleasant dreams?" He asked, smiling easily.

Harry immediately noticed that the mystery man had white, sparkling teeth. "Err… No." He answered truthfully, not sure what to make of this situation. "Exactly who are you?"

The man sighed and acted like he hadn't head the question. "No? Pity." The man shook his head. "Waking up with the memory of a good dream in your head usually has the effect of putting you in a good mood for the day." He paused, cocking his head as if someone had whispered something incredible interesting and surprising in his ear. "Did you know that the Muggles actually believe that being in good mood, free of stress, is good for your health?"

Harry actually did remember learning something like that from Health Class in primary school. "You didn't answer my question." Harry stated, rather nervously. Unassuming or not, there was something about him that was rather off-putting. He sat up in the hospital bed; bring one hand up over the covers in an attempt to go for his replacement wand. 'Lot of good it'll do me. I barely know any offensive spells.'

His actions did not go unnoticed by his companion. "Really James, I can understand suspicion but do you honestly think you might need your wand to wield against me?" He held up a finger. "Before you do anything brash, consider the fact that I'm either skilled and powerful enough to sneak into Hogwarts or friends with the staff and such have no foreseeable reason to harm you, as those are the only real reasons that I might be here. If it's the first, then what chance do you hold against me, even with your wand? If it's the second, then I've no reason to harm you, do I?" He held up another finger. "Consider too, if I wanted to kill you, I would've done so while you were sleeping. At the very least I would've taken your wand. Speaking of which…"

The man walked over to where his wand was lying. He picked it up with little preamble, holding it close to his face and studying it closely. "Just how did you come by owning this particular wand?"

Harry shrugged, eyeing the man curiously. While his logic was enough to make him believe that he was not a threat, that didn't mean to say that he now trusted him. Quite the opposite in fact, but there was little he could do about it. "Dumbledore gave it to me to use while mine is getting fixed."

"Did he now? Interesting." 'Never in a million years did I think that Brian would give up his old wand.' He handed Harry back his wand, a grin present on his face. 'I wonder if he knows that the wand he holds is the wand that Brian used to defeat Grindelwald? The wand that, in Brian's hands, beat the Elder Wand?' He shook his head. 'Probably not. He'd probably treat it with more respect if he did.'

Harry didn't know what the strange look was that was on the man's face, but it did remind him of something…

"You never answered my question."

"Perceptive little bugger, aren't you?" The man grinned again, treating Harry to another sight of his perfect teeth as he put the wand back on the bedside table beside his enchanted glasses and ring. "Which question?"

"The only question I've asked you so far. Who are you?"

The man made a sound of disapproval, shaking his head. "Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's only polite to give your name first before asking somebody else for theirs?"

"Judging by how you addressed me by my middle name earlier, I'd say you already know mine." Harry answered smoothly, quickly getting annoyed at the man's blatant evasion of answering the question. "But I'll tell you anyway. My name is Harry James Potter. To whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"That's better." The man clapped his hands together, smiling. "I'll make a gentleman out of you yet James. As for me… I am Sir Nicolas Toujours Flamel." He said this with an elaborated bow and a flourish, looking up to see his reaction.

Harry didn't disappoint. Slack jawed and wide eyed, he stared at the man in disbelief. "I… Aren't…. Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

The man who claimed to be the infamous alchemist blinked in surprise. 'Out of all the responses…' "What gave you that impression?" Nicolas eyed him curiously. "You do know who I am, right? Alchemist Supreme? Inventor of the Sorcerer's Stone? The Sorcerer's Stone being the only object in the world able to create the Elixir of Eternal Life? I don't have to explain what that is too, do I?"

"No, but I was under the impression that it was destroyed by Professor Dumbledore last year."

"It was." Nicolas said, eyes twinkling.

"Then… how..?"

"How am I still alive if I don't have the Stone to make more of the Elixir of Life?" Harry nodded, prompting a chuckle from the ancient alchemist. "All the centuries I've had the Stone and you didn't think I would prepare for the eventuality of being forced to destroy it to prevent some maniacal psychopath from getting his hands on it?" Nicolas eyed Harry's curious expression. "Don't bother asking how. Just know that, while the Sorcerer's Stone has been destroyed and with it the only source of the Elixir of Life, I still have more than plenty of time to do anything I need to do and more."

Harry nodded in understanding. "That explains how you're alive but not why you were standing there watching me sleep. Or why you're still here now."

"I was watching you sleep because I was waiting for you to wake up. As for why I'm here…" Nicolas locked eyes with Harry suddenly.

Harry frowned. Suddenly, he felt… strange. He frowned and tried to tear away from Flamel's gaze but found that he couldn't. As quickly as it came though, it vanished. Harry gave Nicolas a questioning look. "What was that?"

Nicolas smiled disarmingly, inwardly panicking slightly. "What was what?"

"Just now." Harry said. "I felt something strange like… like someone was rummaging around in my head."

"You felt that?" Nicolas blinked, genuinely surprised. 'How is it he can feel something when someone's in his mind? Granted I didn't take the time to be as gentle as possible, but someone with no experience in Occulmency –such as he- still shouldn't have felt a thing. Even for us magic folk that… isn't normal.'

"Yes." Harry said, annoyed. "What was it?"

"I'm sorry to say that was me. I used an obscure form of magic on you, known as Legilimency, to read you." Nicolas confessed. "I needed to know what kind of person you were and didn't want to waste time by using kinder and/or less reliable methods."

"That was you?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"Because, like I said, I needed to get a read on you. Figure out what type of person you are to see if you're the right type of person for what I have in mind. And, honestly, I thought you wouldn't even notice."

"So you did it just because you thought you could get away with it?" Harry asked, struggling to keep his anger out of his voice. "Because you thought I wouldn't notice?"

"Yes." Nicolas replied bluntly. "And, instead of Obliviating the memory of that feeling from you and proceeding like you never had it, I choose to explain myself." Nicolas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You have to understand James, we live in a world where a single whispered word can make a man be blown to bits, lose his free will, torture him to insanity or worse, forget his own name. A world where two words can kill a man. There are potions that can make one sleep for centuries, then wake up and shake hands with their great-great-great-great-grandchildren. Charms that change the very nature of the world around us."

Nicolas paused, looking sad. In a low tone, he continued. "I've lived a long time. If I've learned anything in that time, it's that magic is both great and terrible, as well as being an enabler. Tell me something; let's say you have a misunderstanding with some muggle over something stupid. Let's say it is your fault and you've apologized, but the muggle is having none of it. He plans on getting physical, on roughing you up some. You're both about the same size so in a fight it would pretty even, balancing on who wants to do more damage, which would be him. Let's say that you and the muggle are alone and you're able to use magic on him without fear of getting in trouble with the law, as well as being skilled enough with Obliviate to erase the experience from him when you're done. What do you do?"

"Depends." Harry said slowly. "I'd probably try and run away if I could. If I couldn't, I would try to fight back enough to stop him from really hurting me I think."

"Why?"

"Because…." Harry frowned, trying to think of the right way to say it. "Because it wouldn't be right to use magic against a muggle like that. He couldn't even defend against it. Besides, it was my fault and I'm no stranger to a few bruises here or there."

"Your average muggle wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop you. The thing is, after you reach a certain level of proficiency in the various different types of magic, your average wizard would be hard pressed to resist you as well. The sad truth of the matter is the fact that wizard's whose skill levels are 'average' are tragically too easy to control by anyone that is 'above average'." Nicolas turned away from him and, still speaking in a low, sad, tone, he continued. "The only limits one truly has in this world of magic is what you can do and what you will do. But when you're capable of a whole lot…" Nicolas shrugged helplessly, a mirthless smile that didn't reach his eyes growing on his face. "It's hard to draw the line between easy, yet unethical, and right, but hard." Nicolas stared at him for a few more seconds, and then sighed. "You still don't understand."

Harry shook his head. "That still doesn't excuse you poking around in my head, just to save time." He said, tone accusing.

"I wasn't making excuses. I was trying to see if I could help you understand my reasoning." Nicolas said. "You still don't, but that's ok. If you accept my offer, I think you'll understand in time."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Offer?"

Nicolas nodded. "I poked around in your head to see if you were the right sort of person for what I had planned. Congratulations, you are." Leaning forward, he whispered his offer into the young Potter heir's ear.

Harry's eyes bulged. "Are you bloody serious?" He asked, pure disbelief in his voice. Nicolas nodded. "Does Dumbledore know about this?"

Nicolas nodded.

"I… I don't know what to say." Harry looked. He squirmed, looking uncomfortable. "Do you… Do you know about… it?"

Nicolas nodded. "Of course I do. Honestly I don't have the slightest clue as to why it's a problem." The ancient alchemist shrugged. "I can see people being a little wary of you, but other than that… Well I've always thought that people in general are stupid. That said…" He picked up the ring and glasses Dumbledore had given Harry just yesterday. Discretely removing the various tracking charms on the objects, he handed it to the young Potter heir as he silently vowed to look over the rest of the young hybrid's belongings for charms of a similar nature, as well as have a talk with Brian about tracking charms. 'I can understand wanting to know just where Harry is when he's not in Hogwarts, given the fact that a whole lot of people wouldn't mind having his head mounted on their wall as revenge for their fallen master, but given the fact that said people would have to find him first, he's in relatively little danger. At least for now that is.' "You might want to put those on and thank Merlin nobody you know decided to walk with you."

Harry nodded, having been unable to sleep with the ring on, slipping the ring on his finger, making a face like he'd just swallowed something particularly foul. After that faded, he slid his unneeded glasses on his face.

Looking back up at Flamel, he asked "Could I have some time to think it over before I give you an answer?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Of course. I would've taken my offer back, had you agreed instantly. Anyone who goes into something without knowing all they can is a fool and fools deserve what they get." Nicolas said with an easy nod. "Today is Sunday. You have until the day before school lets out to decide. On that morning, go the Headmaster's office. I'll be there to hear your acceptance. On the event that you reject, don't bother going to the Headmaster's office. And don't worry; if you reject, you won't remember that or anything to do with me for long."

The Great Hall, breakfast

Amazingly, he'd arrived rather early for breakfast. As he sat down at the Gryffindor table to eat, he saw the Headmaster get up from his throne-like seat at the staff table and approach the table.

Harry inclined his head to the Headmaster in greeting. "Professor."

Dumbledore repeated the gesture. "Harry." Drawing his wand, he waved it in a complicated manor, murmuring under his breath. His wand glowed faintly and a haze appeared briefly in a tight circle around the two. The Headmaster smiled at his confused expression. "Privacy spells. Useful for when you need to discuss things that you would rather stay private." To his surprise, Dumbledore sat down at the table opposite him. "Now then, I trust you have received an offer from Nicolas by now?"

Harry nodded. "Sir, what's that all about? Why now?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "You gained the attention of my former master your first year. When word of your actions reached him, he was intrigued. In all my time as Headmaster, only one other first year would've been able to act as you did, although I would wager all the gold in my vaults and then some if I was a betting man that he would've acted quite different with the stone." Dumbledore looked at him intently. "I believe you are familiar with what student I speak of?"

Harry swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat. "You mean Voldemort, don't you sir?"

The Headmaster nodded. "At the time I am referring too, he was known by his birth name, Tom Riddle. But yes, I believe Tom would've been capable as a first year. I'm satisfied that, if I searched the records here at Hogwarts and at the Ministry, the number of students that would prove capable as well would be a list that I could count on one hand." Dumbledore leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. "He asked me to let him know if anything else of note happened that had to do with you. While you were sleeping after getting out of the Chamber, I told him about your slaying of the basilisk. Him learning of that was enough, in his eyes, for him to make the offer he gave you. And speaking of the basilisk..." Dumbledore sighed. "I hate to ask you to go back to the Chamber so soon after leaving it, but would you be agreeable to showing me the Chamber later today?"

"What for?"

"An old man's curiosity mostly." Dumbledore confessed. "I have been at this school for a long time and in that time I confess that I had become arrogant in thinking myself as having discovered all of its secrets. For that reason, I would like to see this Chamber of Secrets, if for nothing else than to once again be able to tell myself that I know all this castle has to offer. And then there is a dead basilisk to concern with…"

"What about the basilisk?" Harry questioned. "Why can't we just leave the bloody thing down there? It's not like some First Years are going to stumble upon it on their way to class."

"You're right. We could just leave it down there and none would be the wiser." Dumbledore conceded. "Basilisk, however, are immensely valuable and useful once rendered down to parts. The hide, for example, is incredibly spell resistant. The fangs are very popular with the goblins as a base for weapons. Some of its organs have uses in important potions and so forth. And since you are the one who killed it, you are the one with sole rights to it. Even if you don't have a use for any of it, there is still quite a bit of money to be made selling it to those who do."

"Money?" Harry scoffed. "Professor, there is just enough in my trust vault to last me through school and a little bit afterward, should I use it wisely. After that, I expect to have a job and live off my own money from that."

Dumbledore chuckled, thought inwardly he frowned. "I'm sorry, but did I just hear you correctly in that you say your vault has 'just enough to last through school and a little bit afterward' if you 'use it wisely'?"

"Yeah, why?" Harry questioned.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts sighed. "Harry, you do know how many vaults you have at Gringotts, correct?"

"Vaults?" Harry questioned. "I only have one vault. My trust fund vault was the only one my parents left me, right?" The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, earning a look from the young hybrid in front of him. "Professor?"

"I must apologize." Dumbledore said lowly. "It seems that when I sent Hagrid to introduce you to the wizarding world, there are some things that he regrettably forgot to mention." He sighed again. "It appears that I need to have a talk with Hagrid about your introduction to wizarding world to see what was forgotten. In any event, it appears that a visit to Gringotts is necessary to be scheduled in the near future. I will say, however, that you have more than one vault and more than enough money in them to live comfortably for a very long time."

Not sure how else to respond, Harry just nodded. He looked around as more people filled in the Great Hall. To his surprise, nobody seemed to notice that the illustrious Headmaster was sitting opposite the Boy-Who-Lived at Gryffindor table. Plenty of people, however, noticed the raven-haired youth sitting at the Table of the Lion's. Around the same number of people that noticed the young, glamour-covered, hybrid, also saw fit to nonverbally communicate their current feeling's concerning the Potter heir.

'The Slytherin's I expect to glare at me.' He thought, watching as Malfoy mad a particularly rude gesture at him when they momentarily locked eyes. 'They've never liked me and I doubt they ever will. Especially their Head of House. The Hufflepuff's…' He turned his attention to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who flinched and looked away when he realized that he had been caught staring at him and turned away. 'I'll be the first to admit that it didn't look good when that snake almost attacked him. Even if I didn't even realize that I was speaking Parseltongue and even if I was telling the snake not to attack him, it didn't look good. Hell, it was even worse when he later turned up petrified'

He turned his attention to the Ravenclaw table. 'Probably the most divided house.' He though, slightly amused. 'Suppose it makes sense. Out of all of the houses, they are probably the least biased for or against me, as well as the most logical. Hufflepuff loyalty turned the House of the Badger's against me when it appeared I threatened and later petrified Justin. But Ravenclaw logic, cold though it may be, is conflicted.'

'On one hand, being able to talk to snakes on its own is a relatively benign trait. On other hand, Hermione can't have been the only student to guess the monster petrifying everybody was a basilisk. And if I had to bet on any other student making that connection, I would bet on a Ravenclaw. They'd know that, as a Parseltongue, I'd be able to control the beast. But whether or not that means I'm guilty in their eyes….'

Considering that, out of all the houses, Ravenclaw's usually ate breakfast as early as possible, so it was easy to see that about 80% of the house thought he was guilty, judging on the number of glares he received from the student's eating at Ravenclaw table and based on the fact that the majority of the 'Claw's were at the table.

And then there was his own house. 'House of the Lion's indeed.' It was a silver lining in this entire 'Heir of Slytherin' debacle. Those who knew him best, namely Ron and Hermione, the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team and some of their friends, as well as some of his dorm mates and other Gryffindor classmates, knew he was innocent. Those who thought him guilty who also wore the red and gold were mostly among the first years and the upper years who weren't friends with anyone who really knew him.

'So, to summarize, more than half of the student body thinks that I am a dangerous wizard because I am a Parseltongue and that I like attacking people who cross me.' Harry mused. 'A fourth of the student body seem to simply hate me, can't do much about that. But the rest… maybe… maybe that can be changed.'

His thoughts were interrupted by a snapping noise. Coming back to the land of the living, he saw it was Dumbledore, snapping his fingers in front of his face. "Harry? Are you alright?"

Harry nodded, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry Professor just got caught up thinking."

The Headmaster chuckled lowly. "Often times I find myself doing the exact same thing. Any interesting thoughts?"

"Yeah." Harry answered in a low voice. "When do you plan on announcing what happened down in the Chamber of Secrets?"

The esteemed Headmaster blinked. "At the End of Term feast."

"And what did you plan on saying, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry pressed, an idea forming inside his mind.

"I planned on saying," Dumbledore began," That the monster that has been terrorizing the school has been dealt with. Saying to all that Hogwarts will not close and will continue on for the foreseeable future. Assuring to the unfortunate victims that provisions will be made to ensure that they learn the material missed while petrified. On saying to the first years that circumstances such as those that predominated this year are highly unusual and assuring them that they will not happen again. And, seeing as Hagrid is scheduled to arrive back from Azkaban just about around the same time as the feast, welcoming Hagrid back and congratulating him on being cleared of all charges Other than that… nothing too different than what I said last year."

"So you're not—", Harry began, only to stop in mid-sentence. "Wait a second. You said Hagrid was coming back by the feast?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I managed to prove his innocence as soon as I could while you were out."

"If you proved him innocent, then why hasn't he already come back?"

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Azkaban… is not a pleasant place to be Harry. Such a place, so full of misery and suffering…. Even a short visit leaves a stain on one's very soul that never quite fades. Its main guards, the Dementor's, are among the foulest creatures to walk the Earth, arguably even more so than basilisks. They drain away your happy memories, leaving you with naught but your very worst experiences Other than that, I refuse to describe it further, on the reason that I refuse to be possible responsible for inadvertently add its description to number of demons that no doubt haunt you during the night from your experiences in the Chamber."

"In any event, Hagrid was released from Azkaban as soon as he was proven innocent. Since then, he has been in therapy to recover from the ordeal. His healer has reported to me that, at the rate he is recovering, he will be fully recovered and ready to reassume his duties around the same time as the End of Term feast. But I don't think that's why you asked me about my End of Term speech, is it?"

Harry shook his head. "No sir. What I wanted was… for you to tell everyone that it was a basilisk that was the monster, and my involvement in killing it."

Dumbledore had always prized his ability to predict how people would act and react. Rarely had it lead him astray. What he really liked about it was the fact that the only magic involved was the use of Legilimency to scan and observe the thoughts of others. Observing how a person arrived at one thought after another, then watching it evolve into something else was very informative personality wise. Combined with his studying into the muggle art of psychology, he had gotten rather adept at predicting the actions of others. Which was why Harry's request had completely stunned him. "Do you mean to say that you want me to announce at the End of Term feast to the entire school that the monster terrifying the entire school was a basilisk and that you killed it?"

"Well… yeah."

Dumbledore leaned back, taking his half-moon spectacles and rubbing his eyes as he did so. Putting them back on, he eyed Harry. "Care to explain why?"

"It's just… most of the school still thinks me the 'Heir of Slytherin', a dangerous Parseltongue, responsible for the attacks." Harry closed his eyes. "I have about five more years with these people. I would rather not spend that time as a pariah outside of Gryffindor House, if I can help it. So…"

"…So you thought that if the school knew the actions you had taken to save Miss Weasley and the school itself, then you would be accepted once again." Dumbledore finished, looking thoughtful. "I'll be honest with you here Harry. I had no idea that you cared for the opinions of others enough to ask that others know about the events in the Chamber. But I'm afraid announcing your victory over the basilisk is a concept that bears undue… complications."

"Complications?" Harry asked. "What sort of complications?"

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Well, to start off with, a basilisk is one of the creatures listed on the Black List, with it being one of the small number of creatures graded A."

"Black List? Graded A?" Harry questioned, feeling puzzled.

The old man in front of him chuckled. "Forgive me. Sometimes I forget that others don't know as much as me." He closed his eyes, thinking. "The Black List is, naturally, a list of creatures deemed by the Ministry of Magic as being incredibly dangerous for various reasons, with the grade determining what action is to be taken in accordance with the creature. Some creatures, such as most breeds of dragons, are simply graded to be allowed to live on reservations. Others, such as the basilisk, have been deemed too dangerous to be allowed to live within Ministry controlled territory and has what amounts to a 'standing bounty', among other things."

"Why would that be a problem sir?"

"Patience is not a virtue you have in large supply, is it Harry?" The wizened Headmaster said with a chuckle. He then smiled in response to the young Potter heir's sheepish look. "Fear not, it was much the same with your mother. As for why it would be a problem, well… If I was to announce the slaying of a basilisk that has been alive and well inside a school full of children ever since old Salazar Slytherin left? That said basilisk was the creature that attacked the school and murdered pour Miss Myrtle oh so many years ago, as well as nearly caused the premiere school of magic in Great Britain to close not once but twice? The slaying, which, was done not by an Agent of a Ministry of Magic that declared basilisks too dangerous to be allowed to live in Britain, but by the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter himself?" Dumbledore gave what seemed to be a bitter chuckle. "Technically speaking, there is no law against it, but you would be making a lot of unneeded enemies within the Ministry, as well as making the Ministry as a whole look bad if it came out."

Harry frowned. "And the Ministry of Magic is…?"

"The closest thing we have to a government." Dumbledore replied. "Needless to say, they can make things very difficult for you, if you were to make them so inclined."

Harry sighed. "Is there any other way to say that that wouldn't anger them?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Perhaps… I'll think on it. In any case I think it is best if we continue this at another time." Dumbledore said, getting up suddenly and making his way back to the staff table. The reason for his departure became suddenly apparent as he spied Ron and Hermione walking toward him.

Giving them a friendly wave, he began piling food onto his plate, more so than usual, just now realizing how hungry he was.

"Bloody hell mate, slow down. It's not going anywhere." Joked Ron.

"Like you have any room to talk." Retorted Harry, taking a bit out of a piece of bacon. Ron just rolled his eyes as he took a seat opposite him as Hermione sat on his right.

"Like either of you ever had table manners anyway." Hermione said as she ate at a modest pace. "Honestly, I'd be embarrassed if anyone saw me eating like that."

"Speaking of embarrassments," Ron said, "Whatever happened to Lockhart?"

"Permanent Spell Ward at Saint Mungo's." Harry replied. "Who'd they get to cover defense?"

"Dumbledore is." Hermione answered as she pulled out a book and a few pages of parchment as well as a quill, no doubt to get an early start on homework.

"Really? What's that like?" Harry asked genuinely curious. Defense Against The Dark Arts class taught by the one of the most powerful wizards alive today was bound to be interesting.

"It's absolutely fascinating." Hermione gushed. "He's like an encyclopedia, knows everything about anything. Yet he al—"

"Manages not to bore everybody to death." Ron finished, ignoring the glare Hermione sent him for interrupting her. "Bit like an eccentric Flitwick really."

"At least he didn't let Snape take over." Harry said. "Imagine what sort of nightmare that greasy bat would be teaching us to defend ourselves."

"Would it really be so hard to address him as Professor Snape Harry?" Admonished Hermione. "I know he gives you a hard time but-"

"When Snape addresses you, what does she call you Hermione?" Harry interrupted in a calm voice.

"Miss Granger." Hermione answered. "Although I fail to see what that has to do with anything?"

"And how does he address Ron?" Harry pressed, obviously trying to make a point.

"Calls me Mr. Weasley, just like all the other teachers do." Ron said, answering for Hermione. "Took the longest time for me to quit looking around for my dad whenever I heard it too."

"And what does he call me?"

Ron shrugged. "He just calls you Potter."

"Exactly. So why should I call him anything other than Snape?" Harry argued, feeling triumphant. "I'm showing him the same amount of respect that he shows me after all."

"Why can't you at least try to be the bigger person?"

"Why should he Hermione? Snape's the adult; shouldn't he try and be the bigger person?"

For the first time in a long time, Hermione was speechless.

"You know," Harry started, "Now that I think about it, none of the other teachers seem to actually like Snape either, but none of them step in to stop him."

"If you knew what we knew…"

"Then you would you really be surprised?" Came the familiar voice(s) of the Weasley twins, each with sour expressions as if they'd tasted something particularly bitter as they walked up to the trio, taking a seat next to their younger brother.

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she asked "What are you two going on about now?"

"Ronnikins knows." Fred answered.

"Don't you Ronnikins?" George said, nudging the now nervous redhead.

"Ron, what are they talking about?" Harry asked, curious. Whatever it was, it was important.

But Ron wasn't listening. "Mum told us not to talk about that…." He muttered pathetically, looking away

George scoffed. "And when, pray tell…"

"…Has that ever stopped us?" Fred finished, grinning.

"This is different." Ron protested. "Mum said that Dumbledore doesn't really want something like that going around if he can help it."

Fred shrugged. "Don't really see the point in that. It is a matter of public record after all."

"Anyone with enough curiosity can find out from the Hall of Records within the Ministry." George added. "Course, Dumbledore probably made it as hard to find as he could, but that's beside the point."

"Hang on." Harry interjected before Ron had a chance to protest further. "Dumbledore doesn't want what going around, exactly?"

In a low voice, Fred answered. "The fact that Snape wasn't exactly on our side during the war against You-Know-Who."

Ron slumped his shoulders, muttering how his Mum was going to kill him as Harry's and Hermione's eyes widened. "Wha-"Hermione began to yell, only to be silenced immediately by Fred reaching over and slapping a hand rather violently over her mouth.

George shot Harry a look that froze him on the spot, stopping him from interfering. In a low voice, Fred whispered in Hermione's ear, "What part of Dumbledore not wanting this going around do you not understand?" He withdrew his hand from over her mouth, looking guilty as he saw the red outline of his hand on her face. Drawing his wand, a wave and a muttered word caused it to vanish. Returning his wand to the inner folds of his robe, Fred, looking away, whispered "Just… keep it down, alright?"

Hermione just nodded, feeling rather small in the wake of such a violent reaction from the normally playfully docile Weasley twins.

"In fact…" George drew his wand and cast a privacy spell. "There. Now nobody can eavesdrop on us."

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Harry asked in a louder than normal voice full of suppressed anger at the Weasley twin's actions.

"Sorry for reacting the way I did." Fred said, his eyes lingering on Hermione as he did so. "But found this out by eavesdropping on a conversation between Mum, Dad, and our esteemed Headmaster…"

"…Who was ready to Obliviate us when he discovered what we had overheard." George finished. "Only reason he didn't was…"

"…Because Mum and Dad didn't let him."

"Never thought Dad had it in him to be honest." George said, admiration in his voice.

"Nothing against him but we always thought he was too…"

"Soft spoken?"

"Soft spoken! Thank you for that, my less-than-physically-attractive brother."

"Oi! You do know we look exactly the same, right?"

"No we don't. I'm handsomer."

"Handsomer? Not sure if that's a word, to be completely honest."

"Can we get back to the topic at hand please?" Harry interjected, a headache forming from overexposure to the twinspeak that was the normal mode of communication of the Weasley twins.

"Right." Fred nodded. "Where were we again?"

"You were talking about how your parents stopped Dumbledore from erasing your memory of overhearing a conversation where you learned that Professor Snape was on You-Know-Who's side during the war." Hermione reminded.

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that." Fred closed his eyes. "See, the reason that Snape isn't in Azkaban where he so rightly belongs right now is because Dumbledore claims that he converted Snape from a Death Eater into a spy at some point during the war, providing him inside information on everything that he could."

"Death Eater?" Harry questioned. "What the bloody hell is that?"

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Out of everyone here, that's something you should know in particular." He rubbed his eyes. "It's what You-Know-Who's followers called themselves. Death Eaters for plural, Death Eater for singular. But we're getting off topic here."

George held up a finger. "Here's what has everybody who knows wondering. If Snape was a spy providing information to our side to Dumbledore, then where is the information that Snape provided? There is no record of the information anywhere in the Ministry. For that matter, why is it that only Dumbledore himself knew that Snape was a spy? Nobody and I mean nobody knew that Snape was a spy. The only time it came up was when Snape was taken into custody for being a Death Eater. And the biggest thing is simple: What changed?"

"What do you mean 'What changed'?" Harry questioned.

"Imagine the situation at the time if you could." Fred answered. "You-Know-Who was the most powerful and feared man in the world at the time, especially to his own followers. It's how he ruled, through fear, torture, and intimidation." He paused, and then continued in a low voice. "By betraying Him, Snape was signing his own death warrant if it was ever discovered, forgetting the fact that only the most devoted and fanatical become part of You-Know-Who's marked inner circle, which was what Snape was. He was one of the first Death Eaters, with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named since the very beginning, or at least that's what they say. What is it that pushed Snape into betraying his beliefs and his powerful and murderous Master at the same time?"

"Dumbledore knows, undoubtedly. But he refuses to say." George continued. "If you ask me, the entire affair is too fishy for my liking."

"Why doesn't Dumbledore want that going around?"

Hermione turned to look at Harry as if he was an idiot. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Think about it Harry," George asked. "How many people would pull their kids from Hogwarts if they found out one of the teachers was a former Death Eater?"

Harry sighed, mentally processing the load of information that twins had seen fit to share. 'Snape a Death Eater? It fits, strangely enough. Could that be why he hates me?' "Is that all of it?" He asked, hoping that the answer was 'Yes'. 'How am I going to walk into Snape's classroom, knowing what I do now?'

"No." Fred answered. "When we went to the Ministry with Dad one time with the excuse of wanting to spend time with Dad, we asked around and looked in some records to see if there was anything else that we could find out about it. Turns out, before Dumbledore revealed that Snape was a spy, Snape was interrogated a variety of different ways with and without Veritaserum by Auror Amelia Bones-"

"Hang on a sec." Ron interrupted. "Isn't Amelia Bones the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within the Ministry?

George inclined his head. "Yes, she is. But at the time, she was just an Auror-"

"-Which is like the magical version of a muggle policeman." Fred said in response to Harry and Hermione's confused looks. "In any event, once the interrogation was concluded, Amelia immediately went to the Minister of Magic to petition that Snape receive the magical version of the Death Penalty, which, at the time, was to have his soul sucked out by a Dementor and his lifeless body burned to nothingness with Fiendfyre."

"Something that is supposed to be a fate worse than death." George added. "At the time, it took authorization before the trial from the Minister for the Death Penalty to even be on the table as a punishment, should the accused be proven guilty."

"Unfortunately for then-Auror Bones, Dumbledore had learned of Snape's imprisonment and, using his considerable influence, managed to procure a full pardon for the greasy git under the assertion that he was a spy for Dumbledore." Fred said. "Bones actually interrupted the meeting between Dumbledore and then-Minister Millicent Bagnold; arriving just seconds after the Minister had signed off on a full pardon for one Severus Tobias Snape."

George had a disgusted look on his face. "Whatever Auror Bones got from Snape must've been pretty nasty, as Bagnold was heard saying that she wished she'd known earlier, but couldn't take back the pardon once it was signed." He shook his head. "As the information she had gleaned pertained to pardoned crimes, she was forced to take an Unbreakable Vow of Conditional Silence, along with anyone she told, including the Minister."

"Why?" Hermione questioned. "And what's an 'Unbreakable Vow of Conditional Silence' anyway?"

"Standard procedure." Fred answered, closing his eyes. "Nothing can be legally done about pardoned crimes, so information pertaining to them is kept as secret as possible. To stop the family and friends of a victim from causing a scene. Helps cut down on the bad press the Ministry gets too."

"Say a murderer kills a whole lot of people, and then gets a full pardon from the Ministry for some strange reason." George began. "By keeping it a secret, it doesn't get out that a serial killer is getting away with his crimes."

"And an Unbreakable Vow of Conditional Silence is exactly as it sounds." Fred said. "You swear to keep something to yourself unless certain conditions are met. That's the 'Conditional Silence' part. The 'Unbreakable Vow' part come from the fact that you'll find it very difficult and a bit painful to even try to break the Vow."

"What happens if you succeed?" Harry asked curiously.

Surprisingly, Ron decided to answer this time. "You die." He answered. "Plain and simple. It's what happens if you break any kind of Unbreakable Vow."

"Why conditional though?" Hermione asked, her natural curiosity showing. "Wouldn't it be simpler if it was simply a Vow of Silence? Or does it not work that way?"

"No, it is possible to make someone take an Unbreakable Vow of Silence." George clarified. "But it is conditional so that there are still ways for the one making the vow to tell other. The conditions might be if the current Minister gives permission to talk, or talking with someone who already knows. They quite literally could be anything, as long as it leaves an avenue for the Ministry to use to get the information somewhere in the mix."

"Funny thing is, the Vow didn't really stop Bones from campaigning to overturn the pardon, something that has never been done before." Fred commented dryly. "She just couldn't say why Snape deserved death, just that it was what he deserved. Didn't get anywhere with it but you have to admire her tenacity."

"Even now that she is the Director of the DMLE, she still tells anyone who will listen that Severus Tobias Snape deserves death. Rumor has it she makes it a point to pay the greasy git a visit personally every year on a certain significant date, just to remind him of that."

"In other news," Fred continued, "Susan Bones, Director Bones's niece, is the only person whose Potions grade is as bad as yours is."

"How the bloody hell did you get all that?" Harry wondered aloud, earning smirks from the twins.

"Let's just say…," Fred began.

"…That our skills with eavesdropping…"

"…And other such information gathering techniques…"

"Have increased exponentially over the years!" They ended, speaking in synch.

"Well, that and many more visits to the Ministry with Dad."

"Toward the end there, I think he was beginning to get suspicious."

"That or beginning to think that we liked spending time with him that much."

"Nothing against the man, but his interests and ours aren't exactly in the same area."

"In any event, this has been a rather boring and depressing talk…"

"So I'm afraid with that, we must make our exit."

Lowering the privacy spell, the twins got up and saluted them as they went down the table, no doubt to talk to Angelina and Alicia.

"Well…," Harry said slowly, not sure what to say about a rather out of character encounter with the twins. "That was rather informative."

"Informative?" Ron scoffed. "Try suicidal. When Mum finds out that they told… Hell, when she finds out that I didn't stop them…"

"Nothing against your Mum Ron, but I don't plan on telling her. I don't think you do either." Harry stated, and then turned to look at Hermione. "Do you?"

Hermione slowly shook her head. "I can see why Dumbledore wouldn't want it going around, but like the twins said, it's not like they couldn't find out from public records at the Ministry of Magic."

"There you go Ron." Harry said nodding. "Unless one us or the twins let it slip, then your Mum will never know."

"Doesn't matter." Ron muttered darkly, a paranoid glint making its way into his eyes. "She'll find out anyway. Women are scary like that."

Later, in the Library

"Say Hermione?" Seeing that Ron had went back to the Gryffindor Common Room while Hermione dragged him to the library to catch up on their work, now was the perfect time to ask Hermione something he had been meaning to ask for a while now.

"Hmm?"

"Last year, before we found out what it was Fluffy was guarding, didn't you do some research into Nicolas Flamel?"

Hermione frowned, but didn't look up from the essay she was writing about small to big transfigurations for McGonagall. "Barely anything to really amount to anything, but yes, I did. Why?"

"Do you remember what books you used?"

Hermione set her quill down and looked at him. "What's this about Harry?"

Harry just shrugged. "When I was talking with Dumbledore after I came to in the Hospital Wing, he talked a little about Flamel, his old master." 'Lie.' Harry shrugged. "It just made me curious about him." 'Another lie.'

Instead of responding, Hermione turned and started rummaging around in her bag. After a few moments, she withdrew three rather large sheets of parchment and set them on the table in front of them.

"I told Madam Pince that I was researching Nicolas Flamel as a side project. Asked if she could point me toward some books about him. She gave me these lists. But before I had the chance to use them, the entire thing was over with." She gave him an amused look. "Lucky I never bothered to take it out of my bag."

"More like you planned on running it down the first bit of free time you had." Harry muttered.

Hermione ignored him. Instead, she picked up the first sheet of parchment. "This is a list of books that can be found throughout the Library containing information on Flamel." Setting it down, she picked up the second sheet, which was noticeably smaller. "This is the list of the books within the Restricted Section that contain information on Flamel." Putting it down, she picked up the last list. "This is a list of books that Madam Pince was aware of that contain information about Flamel that you'll have to mail order from Flourish and Blotts." She set the last list down and handed them to him. "They are listed in order with respect to content in that the ones with the most about Flamel are at the top."

Harry's eyes widened as he looked over all the books on the list. Just what had he just gotten himself into? Picking up the first list, he murmured, "How the bloody hell did we miss all those books when we were looking for information on Flamel?"

"Probably because we were looking for Flamel mainly as a first name. Stupid." She muttered, turning back to her essay. "If you order any of the books off of the last list, could you let me use them after you've read them?"

"Sure." Harry said, nodding easily. He had expected Hermione to ask anyway. "Do you know where I might find a mail order form for Flourish and Blotts?"

"I have one you can borrow."

Harry laughed. "Of course you do."

Hermione looked at him. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing…"

Hermione glared at him. "Harry…"

Harry laughed uneasily in response.

Later

"Here it is." Harry said uneasily, walking into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He gave a sigh of relief when he realized that Moaning Myrtle herself was strangely absent. Nothing against Myrtle, but the ghost was rather trying to be around.

"In Myrtle's bathroom…" Dumbledore mused. He shook his head, laughing lightly. "Of course. In hindsight, it seems so obvious. Myrtle was killed by the basilisk here when it was leaving the Chamber. I'm ashamed to say I never saw it before now."

Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault. I don't think anyone thought that Slytherin would put the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in the girl's bathroom."

"Likely it wasn't a girl's bathroom when it was built." The Headmaster responded. "It was probably something else when the Chamber was built and later converted into a bathroom. Or it could be that this is merely a side entrance or possible only one of several hidden entrances to the Chamber. Regardless, it is useless to remain here and ponder."

Harry nodded. "Right." Walking to the sinks, he went to the tap with a snake engraved on it. Concentrating, he recalled what it felt like to speak Parseltongue and brought back the feeling easily. "Open." No matter how many times he heard the raspy sound of his own voice speaking Parseltongue, no matter that he could still understand it as perfectly as if it was English; it was something that he would probably never get used to.

Dumbledore peered curiously at the slide that opened up. "Surely you are mistaken?"

"No." Harry answered. "As far as I'm aware, this is the only way into the Chamber of Secrets."

"Perhaps there is another that you've yet to find? One with stairs?" Dumbledore persisted. "Salazar Slytherin is depicted in the history books as a proud man. I find it hard to believe that he would lower himself to sliding on his back like a child just to enter his Chamber."

Harry shrugged. "Open stairs."

To his surprise, his words caused the slide to close back up. As soon as it was closed, he heard a grinding sound from his left. Turning, he saw the bare wall to his left split in half, then retreat in opposite directions, revealing a set of stairs that went off into the darkness. Unlit torches were lined along the walls, giving him an idea. "Light." As he expected, the torches along the walls lit with green fire, illuminating the staircase.

"Perhaps the other entrance was meant to be used only by the basilisk." Dumbledore chuckled at his expression. "After you?"

Harry set down the staircase hesitantly, the esteemed Headmaster following him. After they had both started down the stairs, the wall slid closed behind them. As they walked down the stairs, Harry was reminded of some questions he had for the Headmaster. "Sir, can I ask you something?"

"I believe you just did, but go ahead anyways." The old wizard replied, voice full of mirth.

"How is it that I'm a Parseltongue?" Harry questioned. "For what I've heard, speaking to snakes is hereditary and nobody I've talked to has mentioned either of my parents being Parseltongues."

"I have a theory or two about that." Dumbledore replied, frowning as he recalled them. "The first being that, on the night Tom attacked you and failed to kill you, he somehow managed to accidentally duplicate the magical trait of Parseltongue and give it to you."

The look Harry gave him told him outright what he thought of that.

"Yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "In my head, it sounded just fine. Only when I said it aloud did I realize how ludicrous it sounded, though its ludicrousness does not change the fact that it is still possible. That being said, my second theory has a little bit more thought behind it. Are you familiar with the muggle theory of dominant and recessive traits?"

"Vaguely." Harry responded. "Although I do know that the muggles don't consider it a theory anymore, but scientific fact."

"True." Dumbledore acknowledged with a nod. "My other theory is that one side of your family crossed with one of Slytherin's descendants and that one of your parent's possessed Parseltongue as a recessive trait that went active in you for some reason, possibly as a reaction to Riddle's attack. Or both of your parents possessed the recessive trait of Parseltongue, thus causing you to inherit it as a dominant trait."

"So… then I really am the 'Heir of Slytherin'." Harry muttered darkly.

"I wish I could tell you that you weren't." Dumbledore confessed. "But I can't, because I honestly don't know whether you are one of Slytherin's descendants. And with no evidence to the contrary…" He trailed off then sighed. "I can only say that you are who you are, not who you're related to. Besides, being related to old Slytherin isn't necessarily a bad thing. He was a great man…. until he went insane and started spouting nonsense about blood purity."

"Went insane?" Harry wondered.

"Oh, yes." Dumbledore sighed. "Slytherin was a great man." He repeated. "At one point, the other Founders even elected and acknowledged him as their leader of them and the school."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Really." Dumbledore confirmed. "It speaks volumes that, when they did so, he downright refused. Said it was too much power and didn't want to be tempted to abuse it."

"How'd he go from that to hating Muggle-Borns and obsessed about blood purity enough to put a basilisk in the school's basement to kill them all off one day?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Originally, the only thing about status that worried him was tension between the upper and lower classes." The Headmaster said by way of an answer. "He felt that they should be separated at first, then integrated with classes together as often as would be practical, a practice that goes on to this day."

"That's the reason Gryffindor's and Slytherin's have more classes with each other than the other two Houses." Murmured the young Hybrid.

"Exactly. Most peasants were Gryffindor's in those days, while most nobles were Slytherin's." The Headmaster, paused to allow his words to sink in, and then continued. "Most historians think that his descent madness began after he left Hogwarts near the end of his life. Nobody seems to know why he left, just that it was very important." Albus shook his head, puzzled. "The strange thing is, he was sane when he came back. He started to go insane after he had already been back for a while."

"Professor, am I in the wrong House then?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Of course not. While I admit that you possess traits that old Salazar Slytherin himself admired-resourcefulness, cleverness, determination, and a certain disregard for the rules-you also possess qualities that Gryffindor himself advocated-courage, determination and strength of heart. While I would be willing to go as far as to say that you would not do too much worse in Slytherin rather than Gryffindor, only a true Gryffindor in real need of it could pull Godric's Sword from the Sorting Hat."

They stopped walking as they came to a blank wall. Harry turned to look at Dumbledore. "Before we continue, can you tell me how Fawkes knew that I needed help, where to find me, and why she brought the Sorting Hat?"

"After I was temporarily dismissed, I asked Fawkes to keep an eye on you. Beyond that, I don't know how she knew you needed help or how she found you, although I suspect she brought the Sorting Hat because she suspected correctly that you would be able to draw Gryffindor's Sword from it. Now then, may we continue?"

A single word from Harry and the wall slid down. Harry looked around curiously. Amazing, they had ended up just a little ahead of where they would have ended up had they taken the slide. "That's… strange."

"What is?"

"The stairs." Harry replied, frowning. "It seems like they didn't go down far enough to reach this level. The slide goes much further."

Dumbledore chucked. "Are you familiar with the Undetectable Extension Charm?" Harry shook his head, leading the Headmaster to slip into his well-used 'Professor Mode'. "It does as it sounds. It widens and creates free space in amounts consistent to the power, skill, and experience of the wizard using it inside an object, while also concealing any signs of the extra space from its outward appearance."

"What does this have to do with the stairs though?"

"I believe the stairs are enchanted with something similar, yet opposite at the same time."

"What, like some sort of Undetectable Compression Charm?" Harry asked. "Making it where there is less space on the inside than in the outside?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, nodding in agreement. "I am not aware of any spell of such nature, but given the age and who the architect of this place is, likely this place is layered with a multitude of powerful enchantments that have long been forgotten. The secrets this place must hold…" He gazed around thoughtfully. "Given the secretive/paranoid nature of Salazar Slytherin, as well as the fact that even the weakest and dumbest of the Four Hogwarts Founders were easily at a level even I am not arrogant enough to say that I am even near halfway to, it would be pointless to attempt to get this place divulge any of its secrets."

"Slytherin is supposedly the first Parseltongue, right?" Harry asked, earning a nod. "Would it reveal its secrets to a Parseltongue then? After all, any modern day Parseltongues are supposed to be Slytherin's descendents, so wouldn't Slytherin trust his family with his secrets?"

"You may have a point there. Am I right in inferring that you want to see if you might be able to reveal these secrets yourself?" Dumbledore smiled gently. Harry's cheeks reddened as his intentions were revealed. "While I see nothing wrong with a little exploring and would even join you if I had the free time required, I would recommend that you exercise caution and remember just who it was who walked these very corridors before it was reopened this year." Dumbledore gave Harry a stern look. "Both Tom and Slytherin himself would have believed that the power of his/his ancestor's defenses, particularly his/his ancestor's Parseltongue password defense, would be beyond penetration by those who are not, or in my case not helped by, a Parseltongue. Thus, while we have nothing to fear in lieu of traps and, given the territorial nature of basilisks, other creatures, there is still the fact that Tom Riddle made it a point to push the boundaries of magic itself. If, in your exploration, you come across anything, and I mean anything that you even suspect of being of a magical nature, leave it where it lies and come find me immediately. Do you understand me Harry?"

"Yes sir." Harry answered automatically.

"Good. Now then…" Dumbledore looked around curiously. "Where is the basilisk?"

"This way." Harry mumbled, taking a left, only to have to stop after about a minute of walking as he came face to face with the cave-in caused by Lockhart's failed Memory Charm. He mentally cursed himself for forgetting it as he turned to face Chief Warlock.

"What caused this?" Dumbledore asked. "Not the basilisk?"

"No, Lockhart did this." Harry said, pointing to the shed basilisk skin. "He panicked when he saw that and tried to use Ron's wand to Obliviate us both. Luckily Ron's wand was broken; else I probably wouldn't be able to remember my own name right about now. When it backfired on him though, it caused this cave-in."

"I see." Dumbledore said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Looking at all the shed basilisk skin, he casually pulled out small brown leather drawstring pouch. Opening it, he pointed his wand at the shed skin and waved it, then pointed it at the pouch.

Harry watched as the entrance to the pouch expanded to allow all of the skin to flow unrestricted into the pouch. When it was done, all the skin was in the pouch, yet it showed no outward sign of anything being in it. At Harry's questioning look, he explained. "Some of it may be salvageable." With a wave of his wand, the cave-in became an elegant arch. Dumbledore beckoned for Harry to continue. "After you."

The odd duo of old man and young hybrid continued onward, stopping only once when they were faced with the second door, again opened by a single word from Harry in Parseltongue. In little time, they came upon corpse of the great beast.

Dumbledore sucked in a huge breath, in his mind's eye he saw Harry facing against the beast with naught but Gryffindor's Sword, which suddenly seemed to be a whole lot smaller. The only consolation about the entire thing was that the basilisk's greatest weapon, its killing gaze, was disabled by the phoenix Fawkes. Suddenly, the Harry he imagined got a multiple fangs stabbed into his body, each delivering a payload of enough venom to kill a grown man.

Albus's knee's suddenly felt rather shaky at the vision, mentally cursing himself for allowing a child to face a monster that would induce fear in even the bravest heart on his behalf. He forced himself to take a shaky breath. "To think something like this was hidden away under the school all this time…" He shook his head at the thought.

From within his robes he retrieved a length of rope, which sprung from his hand and flew at the basilisk, wrapping itself around the great snake, just under the head. Taking the drawstring pouch from earlier, he stuck it to the rope with a simple Sticking Charm.

Next, to Harry's surprise, he conjured a plain wooden table. Taking out a sheet of parchment full of writing, he set it down on the table, before taking out a strange looking quill. The quill was black, long, thin, and extremely sharp. The look of it made him feel uneasy.

Handing him the quill, he pointed to the dotted line. "If you would use that to sign the dotted line please Harry?"

"What is this?" Harry asked, holding the quill away from his body with two fingers.

"A Blood Quill." Dumbledore responded, voice somber. "It uses the writer's blood as its own ink."

"Sounds horrible." Harry wondered. "Why would anyone need to use it?"

"It is used almost exclusively in signing legal documents." Dumbledore replied. "For the sole reason that anyone can sign anyone's name on a paper. Using a Blood Quill is a way to ensure that you are who you say you are. If you aren't, if the name on the paper doesn't match the name of the owner of the blood, then the entire document is invalidated. If you are, then the contract is even more binding."

"And the contract is…?"

The Headmaster shrugged. "Standard creature claim and rendering contract. We'll send the basilisk, the spare hide, and the signed contract to Gringotts via Portkey. From there, they will render it all down and put it in it all in separate trunks enchanted to preserve them, each of which will be placed in a special vault designed to bolster the preservation charms. In a few days, you'll receive notification from Gringotts of what all they got from the basilisk and a key for your new vault, as well as a notification for how much you owe them for their services, which, for a creature this size, would be 125 Galleons. 100 Galleons for the rendering, 25 Galleons for the fee in opening a new vault, which is naught but a single drop in the ocean when compared to your trust vault alone, I assure you."

Harry nodded in understanding, glad that the book Hermione coerced him into reading explained what a Portkey was. Putting the parchment on the table, he read and signed it with little preamble, winching at the pain when he felt it cut into the back of his hand. Handing both of them back to Headmaster, he gave him a look. "You didn't mention it would hurt."

"My apologies," The Headmaster replied. "But, as you've discovered, the pain is minimal and fades quickly, with the cut healing itself near instantaneously." Vanishing the table, the quill disappeared with his grey robes. Placing a sticking charm on the underside of the contract, he stuck it to the side of the basilisk, and then pointed his wand at the rope. "Portus." The rope glowed blue for a second, and then vanished with a 'crack', taking with it the basilisk, the pouch, and the document.

Albus smiled. "Now then, I for one have had enough of this rather dreary place and, given how late it is, find myself wanting the comfort of my bed. Shall we be off?"

Harry nodded, half wanting to explore the famed Chamber of Secrets some more. Still, it was late and there was always tomorrow after class.

End Chapter

Bit of a boring chapter.

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