Unofficial Portkey Archive

I am not J. K. Rowling, nor am I associated with Scholastic or Warner Brothers. However, with as many times as I've watched the International Trailer for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, you'd think I own stock in the company.

You might want to grab a Coke or something before you read this chapter. It's a long one.

Chapter 18: The Chambers of Secrets

"Harry Potter." The soft whisper of his name echoed in his ears, so much so that he immediately wondered where he was. It was a large room to be sure and Harry could hear a constant thumping noise coming from behind him, which heightened his feeling of disorientation. Even though everything was pitch black, he could still feel the weight of his wand in his hand.

"Lumos." Light erupted from the tip of his wand, blinding him for only a second, but then slowly revealing the nature of the room where he now stood. As the dim light began to cut through the darkness, it revealed statues of people with animal heads towering over him. Behind them, hieroglyphics lined the walls. 'I'm in some sort of old Egyptian tomb.'

It was a good theory. Harry thought so, at least. That was until he saw what was causing the thumping noise.

Colossal cylindrical columns ran down the middle of the expansive room, rising from the ceiling only to crash with a tremendous impact onto the stone floor. They did this repeatedly and at different intervals, acting like a set of huge stone pistons. Clearly, this was not just an old Egyptian tomb. "Now why does something tell me that I'm going to have to get past these things before I can get out of here?"

"Life's path can be a difficult one to tread sometimes," a welcome voice called out from behind him. Harry turned and took in the familiar sight of an older wizard with a long, white beard, half-moon shaped glasses and a twinkle in his eye. "But in the end, if we have made the right choices, what lies ahead for us is always worth the trials we have endured."

"Dumbledore," Harry said with a relieved smile. "It's good to see you again."

"I can't stay, I'm afraid," Dumbledore remarked sadly. "The course of my current journey does not allow for me to remain in any one place for too long. However, I felt honor bound to be here for the big event."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean by 'the big event'?"

"The final confrontation between Voldemort and yourself, of course," the elder wizard explained. "It will happen just beyond this door." Here Dumbledore waved his arms in the direction of an entryway just behind them. A massive stone slab barred the entrance.

"How do I get through?" Harry asked his old mentor curiously.

"Trust in yourself, Harry," Dumbledore advised him sagely. "Remember what has allowed you to come this far. Your own abilities are far greater than you know. They are what will get you through this battle."

"That's great advice," Harry told him with an amused half-smile. "But I was asking about getting through the door."

"Oh," Dumbledore replied, not looking the least bit embarrassed. His eyes examined the entryway carefully. "I would imagine your wand is the key."

"My wand?" Harry asked in befuddlement. "You mean there's a spell that can open it? Alohamora or wingardium leviosa, maybe?"

Now it was Dumbledore's turn to smile. "I am not here to give you all of the answers. I'm afraid, even from my current vantage point, I still don't have them."

Harry raised his eyebrows, giving Dumbledore an expectant look. "Can you at least tell me if I win?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The future may be predicted, prophesied about and prepared for, but it is never etched in stone. The outcome of the battle is entirely up to you." Hogwarts' former Headmaster looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see something which Harry could not. "Now I must go, Harry. It seems you have another visitor."

Before Harry could ask Dumbledore who he meant, his scar began to twinge. Immediately, the scenery changed, bringing him to the middle of a forest at night. Cloaked figures in skull-shaped masks surrounded him, some of them bearing torches. Below him was a figure on his knees with a dark green sack over his head. "Who is this that kneels before me?" Harry could hear Voldemort ask as he felt his own mouth move to speak the words.

Lucius Malfoy's familiarly pompous voice answered. "His name is Commodus Brinecove, my Lord. A member of Slytherin House with an impeccable pureblood lineage."

Voldemort was not facing his followers now, preferring to stare off into the starry night sky. "Will you vouch for him, Malfoy?"

When Lucius Malfoy said nothing, another voice spoke up. "I will, my Lord." Voldemort spun around and locked eyes with another of his Death Eaters, a figure clearly recognizable, even under the cloak and mask, as a young Severus Snape.

"Very well. Lestrange, remove his hood." Once Rodolphus Lestrange had done so, Commodus Brinecove's face was revealed, looking every bit as drawn and pale as it did now. His hair had yet to turn mostly gray, however, and remained a very dark black. "You come before me tonight in an effort to become one of my servants. Is this correct?"

Brinecove looked straight ahead, his face unflinching. "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort stared down at him with suspicion. "Do you swear that you will follow my commands faithfully and to the letter?"

Commodus Brinecove remained perfectly still, his eyes seeming to examine the ground. "Of course, my Lord."

"And you would sooner eat death than betray me?" Voldemort finished, as he now approached Brinecove's kneeling form.

"Yes, my Lord." Voldemort lifted Brinecove's chin so that their eyes met.

"Then show me." Harry could see Voldemort's fearsome visage reflected in Brinecove's pupils. "Legilimens!" Immediately, Commodus Brinecove's memories flooded through Harry's mind. They were all a jumble and Harry felt as though he was only seeing about half of them, but two caught his attention: one which showed Brinecove talking to Dumbledore and another where he was having a conversation with a redhead who could only be Harry's mother.

As Voldemort's mind released Brinecove's, the Dark Lord let out a roar of frustration. "He is a spy!" At the word 'spy', complete silence reigned throughout the forest as the evil wizard turned to address his Death Eaters. "A double agent, sent to me by Albus Dumbledore!" Voldemort rounded on Brinecove. "You insolent fool! Did you really believe that you could deceive me?"

"I am not deceiving you, my Lord, I swear it! There's been some sort of mistake! I am only loyal to you!" Brinecove looked so shocked that Harry would not have been surprised if he'd fainted, right there and then.

"May I have the pleasure of killing him, Master?" a younger version of Bellatrix Lestrange asked eagerly.

"I'm afraid not," Voldemort answered her, his voice almost a growl. "It was Snape who vouched for him. He must be the one to kill this traitor."

Just as another Death Eater, who was standing farther away from Voldemort than any of the others who had spoken thus far, looked ready to say something, Snape spoke. "May I be so bold as to suggest an alternate punishment, my Lord?"

"Snape is obviously too weak to carry out your commands," Bellatrix hissed as she pointed her wand at Brinecove. "Avada ke…"

"Crucio!" Voldemort's enraged voice interrupted her, forcing her to drop to her knees in pain. "Much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lestrange, you have spoken out of turn. Let us hear Snape's idea for Brinecove's punishment."

As Voldemort removed the Cruciatus Curse from Bellatrix Lestrange, Snape said, "I think Brinecove would find death preferable to being sent back to Albus Dumbledore empty handed." The other Death Eaters seemed very uneasy with this idea. "For whatever reason, Brinecove idolizes the doddering old simpleton. If he comes back alive and with nothing, Dumbledore will never believe that you simply released him. He knows that you show traitors no mercy. He will shun Brinecove for as long as he lives."

No Death Eater dared say anything as Voldemort slowly walked toward Severus Snape. Eventually he stood at eye level with Snape, breathing heavily and looking very angry. "Leave us. This meeting is over. I wish to speak with Snape alone."

"Master," Lucius Malfoy interjected smoothly, "may I simply suggest…"

"I will not repeat myself, Malfoy," Voldemort rasped, a look of loathing set in his eyes. Within seconds, every wizard other than Voldemort, Severus Snape and Commodus Brinecove had apparated out of the woods.

"If…if only I had taken the apparition test…" Brinecove blubbered pathetically.

"Stop your simpering! Crucio!" Voldemort turned his wand on Brinecove and watched him writhe on the ground in pure agony for a few moments before turning his attention back to Severus Snape.

"If my suggestion was offensive to you, my Lord, I can only say in my own defense that I did not mean for it to be," Snape tried, clearly nervous at the idea that Voldemort might murder him as they stood alone in this dark forest.

Voldemort shook his head. "On the contrary, I find your suggestion brilliant. So few wizards truly know the difference between cruelty and brutality. They mistake one for the other. Killing your enemy is nowhere near as satisfying as destroying everything that makes him what he is. Death comes in an instant. Suffering can last a lifetime." His eyes returned slowly to Commodus Brinecove's shrieking form. "For now, Brinecove may live. I wish to extend his suffering, if only for a little while."

"Then, if I may ask, my Lord, why did you wish to speak with me alone?" Snape asked meekly, swallowing all of his fear and looking Voldemort straight in the eye.

"Because Dumbledore has sent a spy to me," Voldemort explained with look of exasperation. "He wants to unleash a mongoose into my den of vipers. In time, he will find one who is more convincing, or better at occlumency. I know Albus. Once he seizes on such an idea, he will not let go of it. Eventually, there will be a spy for the Order of the Phoenix inside the ranks of my Death Eaters."

"Surely this spy will be discovered quickly," Snape pointed out. "He or she will not be able to fool you for long."

"Perhaps," Voldemort conceded. "But then again, perhaps not. The more I think on it, the more I believe I should give him his spy."

"Pardon me, Master," Snape replied, clearly startled by the notion. "I do not believe I understand your meaning."

"Suppose one of my Death Eaters were to defect to the Order," Voldemort mused aloud. "This Death Eater would then offer to act as a double agent for Dumbledore, supplying him with information about my operations and activities. In actuality, however, he would be working for me, giving me information about the Order and feeding Dumbledore only what intelligence I see fit."

"This would be an extraordinarily dangerous mission, my Lord," Snape pointed out. "Who would you trust to undertake it?"

Voldemort's bony finger hit Snape's chest. "You. You are the only one I can trust." The Dark Lord began walking around Brinecove's twitching body in the darkness and, with the flick of his wand, built a large fire very close to where the Slytherin was crying out in pain. "You've seen these young Turks I have around me, so full of single-minded ambition. I couldn't possibly entrust them with such power. But you…well, you have so much of your grandfather in you. He lied to my face so many times but he never betrayed me, though he had many opportunities to do so. This mission requires an expert liar who I can trust. Will you do it?"

"I…" Snape stammered. "If you order me to do so, Master, I cannot refuse."

"This isn't an order," Voldemort explained. "I need you to do this voluntarily. Will you do it, Septimus?"

If Snape had any desire to point out that his name was not 'Septimus', he did not show it. "Of course, my Lord."

Voldemort picked up Brinecove by his neck and held him over the fire. "Excellent. Now, whatever are we to do with you?" As Voldemort reveled in the pain in Brinecove's eyes, it seemed to spread like wildfire into Harry's mind.

Harry Potter woke up screaming loudly, as though he were under the Cruciatus Curse himself. Pain flowed in waves through his head, and he felt as though his forehead might split itself open at any moment. For the first time, he could feel Voldemort's presence, not just in his mind, but everywhere. It was as though dark magic flowed through his veins, allowing the evil wizard's life energy to surge through his body.

"Get out," Harry whispered harshly, his hands pressed firmly against his forehead as he rocked back and forth on the floor. "Get out of my head. Leave me be."

He tried to think back to his occlumency lessons with Hermione, making a valiant attempt to shut Voldemort out of his mind. His efforts at occlumency had been a wash, though, so he had no real hope of it working. Astonishingly, however, it seemed to. It was as if he could feel a door closing in his mind and Voldemort disappearing behind it. The pain vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving him lying on the floor, breathless and sweating profusely but no longer under attack.

Harry rose slowly and looked around at his new accommodations. Headmistress McGonagall had given Hermione and himself access to the suites of the Head Boy and Girl the night before. Unhappily for them (and contrary to a quite popular Hogwarts rumor) the two rooms were not joined by anything, nor were they even next to each other. A long hallway separated the Head Boy's room from the Head Girl's, making the prospect of late night dalliances slightly more daunting.

Harry couldn't help but grin at that thought. He always had enjoyed a challenge.

There was a little over an hour left until breakfast would be served in the Great Hall, but Harry guessed Hermione would already be up and about by now, given what an early riser she usually was. She would want to know all about Harry's dream and his scar hurting, not to mention that their occlumency lessons finally seemed to be paying off. Of course, if she wanted a good morning kiss or two (or more)… well, who was he to say no?

Dressing casually, he crossed the hall to the Head Girl's room and knocked on Hermione's door. Within a few moments, she opened it, revealing that Hermione was already decked out in her Gryffindor robes, her bushy hair as tamed as it ever was without the use of Sleekeasy's and her Head Girl badge already pinned proudly on her chest. "Harry," Hermione greeted him with a grimace, "you look terrible."

Harry tried hard to look hurt by that remark. "That's not a very flattering thing to say to your boyfriend, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, I'm still attracted to you. It's just that you look pale, sweaty and disheveled…and you're not wearing your Head Boy badge," she finished in a disappointed tone.

"I had a dream," Harry explained as Hermione's expression suddenly became much more sympathetic. "A Voldemort dream. It was all about Brinecove and Snape becoming a spy and then my scar started to hurt. I mean, really hurt, like it never has before. It wasn't just that, either. It sort of felt like Voldemort was moving around inside me…wait a minute. I just had a horrible thought."

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"You're not only dating me because I'm Head Boy, are you?" Harry inquired only half-seriously.

Hermione crossed her arms. "I seem to recall falling madly in love with you several years before you were even eligible to be named Head Boy. Of course, if you don't believe me, you could always hand in your badge. I heard that Headmistress McGonagall asked Ernie Macmillan to perform your traditional duties while you were gone."

Harry leaned closer to Hermione, his hands going to her waist and slowly snaking their way around her back. "Do you really want Ernie Macmillan to be the one performing my traditional duties?" he asked her in a low voice.

"N…no," Hermione answered honestly as Harry's lips began lightly caressing her neck. "I would have preferred Terry Boot. He's much more responsible." Harry drew back a little to look into her eyes, his bottom lip puffed out in a pout. Her eyes clearly revealed that she was teasing him, however, and after a moment he picked her up and held her in his arms as she squealed in half-hearted protest. "Put me down."

"Oh, I will," Harry assured her as he began to enter the Head Girl's room. "I'm just still deciding where exactly I want to…Ah!" A magical barrier at the threshold of the door stopped him dead in his tracks and forced him to release Hermione. "Bloody hell!"

Hermione hid her laughter poorly behind one hand. "Sorry about that, Harry. I forgot to tell you that the Head Girl's quarters won't allow any boy to enter, even the Head Boy. It's just like the girls' dormitories." Harry looked miffed. "Don't worry, I don't think the room suspects you of anything underhanded. It probably just thinks you want to see me naked."

"Smart room," Harry muttered as he rubbed his forehead. "I don't think my head can take much more punishment today."

Hermione sobered instantly. "I'm sorry, Harry. Before we got sidetracked, you were telling me about Voldemort's presence moving around inside of you. What happened?"

"That's what I came over here to tell you," Harry remembered with a grin. "I drove him out of my mind using occlumency. All of those lessons must have worked after all."

Without warning, Hermione threw herself around Harry, practically crushing him in a bear hug. "Oh Harry, I'm so proud of you. You did it!"

"We did it," Harry reminded her as she pulled out of his embrace slightly in order to look into his eyes. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione told him earnestly, her eyes shining brightly with pride. "I knew all you had to do was believe in yourself."

Harry kissed her tenderly. "It helped that you believed in me first." They began to kiss again, this time much more passionately.

As they came up for air, Hermione moaned slightly but shook her head, all too familiar with the look of desire in Harry's eyes by now. "We can't right now, Harry. I have to be at breakfast early to meet someone. Besides, we're supposed to set good examples," Harry began planting soft kisses on her cheek, "for the other students," and her jaw line, "especially the first years…Harry, I'm serious this time. We can't. Besides, you're in desperate need of a shower."

"Am I?" he asked coyly. Until now, he had forgotten all about the Heads' bathroom, which, conveniently enough, both of them could enter. "I suppose I could stand a nice long, hot bath. Care to join me?"

Hermione looked sorely tempted, but was determined to stand her ground. "I told someone I'd meet them and I'm not one to go back on my word."

Harry kissed the bridge of her nose and then whispered in her ear. "I'll wear my Head Boy badge," he promised in an enticing sing-song voice.

***
"Oy," cried out a grumpy-looking Ron, "why are you two so late for breakfast? All of the good stuff is already gone."

"No reason," Hermione answered at the same time that Harry said, "Overslept."

Ron did not appear to be in the mood to dissect their alibi. "Yeah, well, my morning's been rotten. First, Viktor Krum comes by and asks where Hermione is and then, when he finds out you're doing who knows what somewhere other than here, he gets all in a tizzy and orders me to give this to you." Ron handed Hermione a rumpled piece of paper. "I sure hope you can read it because I couldn't. It must be in Vulgarian or something."

"It's Bulgarian, Ron, and how dare you read a message that was intended for me," Hermione scolded him.

"But I just told you I couldn't read it," Ron protested.

"That's not the point," Hermione said tersely. "The point is that you should respect the privacy of others." Hermione examined the note closely. "Ooh, it's in code."

As his girlfriend set about decoding a secret message from her ex-boyfriend, Harry made a conscious effort to pretend not to care what was in the note. Ron, meanwhile, decided to continue complaining about his morning. "So then Percy sits down next to me and starts laying into you, Harry. He's going on about how reckless you are and that it'll never get me anywhere to be your friend and all of that rot. When I told him to sod off, he assigned me the five weeks' worth of Potions assignments that I missed. Then when I pointed out that I was in a coma for those five weeks and that he might have known that if he had ever come around to visit me, he got this look on his face like he had swallowed a lemon and told me I only had until the end of the week to have everything handed in." Ron stirred his porridge slowly, looking very glum. "Lucky for me, Septimus Prince was aces at potions. I guess, with him being a squib and all, it was one of the few magical subjects he could handle."

Harry looked at Hermione briefly to see if she might say anything about Ron 'cheating' at Potions by using Prince's memories. She seemed too engrossed by what Krum had written, however, and again Harry did his level best to pretend not to care. "Just when I thought my morning couldn't get any worse, Ginny stomps in and demands to know if I want to play Keeper again. When I tell her that I do, she says I have to have a try out. After two years on the team and two Quidditch cups, I have to have another try out! And against that wanker she replaced me with, too."

"Colin Creevey isn't a wanker," Hermione reproved him without looking up from Krum's message. "He was in the D.A."

Ron scoffed. "That doesn't prove anything. Zacharias Smith was in the D.A. and he's a wanker. Michael Corner was in the D.A. and he's a wanker."

Hermione finally put down Krum's note and let out a small sigh. "Frankly, I don't know why they haven't done away with Quidditch matches altogether."

Ron dropped his spoon just as he was about to shovel in another bite of porridge. "What an awful thing to say! You don't hear me saying, 'It's a wonder they haven't closed the library,' do you?"

"I'm serious, Ron," Hermione countered. "We have more important things to worry about than Quidditch."

"Not everybody knows about the Halloween threat, though," Harry pointed out. "McGonagall said it would just panic the student body for no reason and draw fire from the Ministry. Brinecove, Chambers and Percy would throw a fit if the Order members went around saying they knew Voldemort was going to attack the school."

"That's sort of what Krum's message is about," Hermione admitted warily. "At Bill and Fleur's wedding, I asked him to come here and keep an eye on the teachers the Ministry appointed. This is his report on their activities."

"Well, what does it say?" Ron asked impatiently as Harry inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"I haven't decoded it all yet," Hermione snapped. "Give me enough time and I'll share it with you. If you ask nicely."

"Did I hear you say you were decoding somethin'?" Seamus Finnigan asked from beside Hermione. His voice startled all three of them, as few Gryffindors had spoken to Harry, Hermione or Ron since the evening edition of the Daily Prophet had arrived last night.

Hermione, who might ordinarily have told Seamus to mind his own business, replied, "Yes I was, actually."

"You might want to talk to Neville, then," Seamus suggested, although he refused to make eye contact with Harry. "That's all he does anymore is decode secret messages. He uses this special ink that smells to high heaven. Nobody knows who the messages're from, but he takes it all very serious."

"Thanks, Seamus," Hermione replied with a smile of genuine gratitude.

"Don't mention it. Oh and Harry," Seamus said before he disappeared around the corner. Harry looked up at him hopefully, expecting that perhaps Seamus would say something encouraging to him. "You've got bath bubbles on your Head Boy badge. I thought you should know."

Sheepishly, Harry brushed the bubbles from his badge, hoping nobody else had noticed. "So you're trying out for the Quidditch team again, aren't you, Harry?" Ron asked, ever eager to change the subject back to Quidditch. "It won't be the same without you."

"Actually, considering how much I've been off the team the last two years, it will be the same without me." Harry shook his head. "Besides, where would I be playing? Chaser? I doubt Ginny would change positions for me at this point."

"I'm really glad you waited to say that until after you guys broke up," Ron remarked to a scowl from Hermione, "but I wouldn't underestimate Ginny's desire to win. She wants to put the best team out there that she can."

Harry shook his head. "I just don't think I can concentrate on Quidditch right now, mate. It's only a few weeks until Halloween. Right now, I have to focus on Voldemort."

Hermione nodded approvingly as Ron looked profoundly disappointed. Hermione then glanced at her watch and indicated that it was nearly time for the three of them to go to class. "Remember, we'll be meeting Snape in the second floor girls' lavatory at noon. Don't be late." Her last sentence was directed specifically at Ron.

Ron hung his head sadly. "Skipping lunch to meet Snape in the girls' bathroom. It's like something out of a nightmare." Suddenly, his head shot up. "I can't believe I almost forgot. Would either of you mind if Luna came along?"

Harry and Hermione shared a knowing look. "I don't know, Ron," Harry answered for both of them, suppressing a smirk as best he could. "We'll have to think about it."

Ron looked nervous all of a sudden. "Well, erm, the thing is, I sort of already told her she could."

"Really?" Hermione asked in feigned surprise. "In that case, I suppose we don't have much choice in the matter, do we?"

Ron, oblivious to Hermione's moods as always, smiled and looked grateful. "Thanks, guys. You're the best."

Their first class of the morning was Defense Against the Dark Arts, which at least meant that they wouldn't have to lug any books around. As Harry took a seat next to Hermione with Ron on the other side of him, he could not help but stare at Professor Brinecove and think back to his latest Voldemort dream. 'Was Brinecove really hoping to become a spy for Dumbledore? Or did he have some other reason for wanting to become a Death Eater?' As he remembered Brinecove swearing his loyalty to Voldemort, he missed what the Professor had said entirely and looked around in confusion as everyone else in the classroom stood.

Hermione's elbow nudged him hard. "Come on, Harry. We have to pair off and practice spells on each other."

As everyone found a partner and stood around their desks or in the front of the classroom, Harry could hear someone clearing their throat. "Ah yes, where are my manners?" Brinecove said in his usual boisterous classroom voice. "It seems that Headmistress McGonagall feels that the school needed an Assistant Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and, quite frankly, I could not agree more. There is no more important subject at this school and the more instruction you receive in it, the better. I'm sure you all know Remus Lupin already, since he was your teacher in third year." Lupin was standing off in the corner, looking mildly amused. "Please treat him with the same level of respect that you would afford to me."

"I like Lupin too much to do that," Harry muttered, eliciting a small smile from Hermione.

"Mr. Potter," Brinecove called out, which immediately wiped the grin from his face. "I see you've chosen Miss Granger as your partner. Very good. There are few if any in this classroom who could challenge you with their spell work. Miss Granger has proven herself to be one of them." Hermione blushed in embarrassment while Harry squirmed uncomfortably as all eyes in the classroom were on him, some of them glaring at him contemptuously. "Mr. Finnigan, as much as I'm sure you enjoy being paired with Mr. Thomas, I'm going to have to ask you to be Mr. Weasley's partner." Reluctantly, Seamus moved to Ron's side while Dean partnered up with Neville. "No, no, Mr. Longbottom. That won't do. I need you to be paired with Miss Bones." His eyes darted to the other end of the classroom. "Mr. Macmillan and Mr. Finch-Fletchley…"

Professor Brinecove spent the next few minutes rearranging the students so that almost all of them now had partners who were not of their own choosing. "Does he do this often?" Harry asked Neville in a whisper.

"One time he spent the whole class reassigning us partners," Neville reported with a frown. "We didn't even have time to practice any spells."

"We will be learning a new spell today," Brinecove announced, sounding almost giddy. "Miss Granger, I would like you to try it on Mr. Potter. The spell is pronounced 'corpus vile'." Brinecove turned to write the words on the blackboard.

Hermione's eyes blazed with fury. "Professor, that spell is lethal to magical creatures. I won't use it on Harry!"

"Mr. Potter is not a magical creature, Miss Granger," Professor Brinecove reminded her as he finished writing 'corpus vile' on the board. "Furthermore, you may be called upon to kill a few in the event of a Death Eater attack. This spell is very important for you to practice and master. Miss Granger, if you would?"

"I most certainly will not," Hermione declared defiantly. Harry himself did not know what effect the spell would have on him, but decided it probably would not be the best idea to have to find out the hard way.

"Very well. Five points from Gryffindor." Brinecove nonchalantly leveled his wand at Harry. "Corpus vile."

"Protego!" Harry shouted as he used the shielding charm only a split second before Hermione could call out, "Harry don't!"

At first, Harry wondered why Hermione didn't want him to cast the shielding charm, but soon realized with horror what was happening. Brinecove's spell ricocheted off of Harry's shield and sped toward the corner of the room where Remus Lupin was standing. Lupin just managed to duck as the spell destroyed a tapestry that had been hanging behind him.

"Oh dear," Brinecove called out in an insincerely apologetic tone. "I had completely forgotten that you are a magical creature yourself, Assistant Professor Lupin. Please accept my apologies." Lupin was still crouching in the corner, his eyes burning with hatred. In the space of a moment, he rose to his feet and marched out of the classroom.

"I'm going after him," Harry told Hermione as everyone else in the class began buzzing excitedly to themselves about what they had just seen. "You stay here." As Hermione looked ready to protest, Harry's eyes met hers. "Please. It's my fault this happened."

"No, it isn't." Hermione stared daggers at Brinecove, making it clear who she felt was responsible. "Don't forget about our meeting with Snape."

"I won't." As stealthily as he could amid all the commotion, Harry exited the classroom and followed Lupin down the hall. "I'm sorry, Remus," Harry called out as he approached. "I…I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't," Remus agreed angrily, spinning around to face Harry. "You didn't even consider that Brinecove might be trying to hurt me instead of you. Dark wizards use devious methods, Harry. They'll come at you sideways just when you least expect it. Sometimes you have to be able to think like they do in order to survive."

"So you're saying I should have been sorted into Slytherin?" Harry asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It didn't work. "This isn't a joke, Harry. People are counting on you to defeat Lord Voldemort. Aside from attempting to destroy his horcruxes, what have you done to make yourself ready to fight him?" Harry tried to think of something specific, but Lupin took the silence as his answer. "I'm sorry, Harry, but the way things look now, you won't be ready to face Voldemort in two years, let alone two weeks. You're simply not prepared."

Harry took a step toward Lupin as he said, "Then prepare me." Remus gave him a skeptical look. "I'm serious. If you really don't think I'm ready to face Voldemort, then do what you can to get me ready. Train me. Teach me."

"There isn't a soul in the wizarding world who could get you ready to do battle with Voldemort," Lupin told him sadly. "The closest thing to it would have been Dumbledore, and he spent his last year with you showing you memories of Voldemort's life, for whatever reason."

Harry shrugged for effect. "Then it's hopeless. Except I don't believe that and I can't help but think that, deep down, you don't either."

Lupin's eyes became distant as he pulled away from Harry to look out a nearby window. "You're right. I don't." There was a lull in the conversation then, but finally Remus said, "Tonks sent me an owl last night. She's ending things between us."

Harry was stunned. "I…I'm sorry."

Lupin shook his head quickly. "There's no need for that. I think we both knew it was coming. It's just…I've been thinking back on the relationships that have been the most important to me over the years and wondering what I might have done differently. When I got to thinking about you, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of regret. I could have been there for you more often, you know. But after losing your parents and then Sirius…"

"You weren't ready to let anyone get close to you again," Harry finished for him. "I get that. Believe me, I do."

Lupin let out a soft chuckle. "I take it you realized the folly inherent in that lifestyle long before I did." Remus put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "If I haven't been treating you as though you've come of age lately, it's because it's a concept that's a little hard for me to wrap my head around. It seems like only yesterday that I was teaching a certain eager thirteen-year-old wizard the patronus charm." Both Harry and Remus smiled at the memory. "And if I was too hard on you for not being ready to face Voldemort…well, I think a lot of that may be because I'm not ready to send you off to fight him."

"You're not sending me off," Harry bristled slightly. "I want to go. If I'm the only one who can beat him and end this, then I want to do it."

Lupin stood back from him slightly to get a better look. "You have become a man, haven't you?" Harry's only reply was a modest smile as the two of them began walking toward the Great Hall. "Your parents would be very proud of who you've become."

Harry thought back to Godric's Hollow and of getting to meet his parents, through their portrait. "Brinecove went to school with my parents, didn't he?" Harry asked as casually as he could. When Remus nodded, he continued, "Did you know him?"

Lupin shook his head. "Only by reputation. The social barrier between Slytherins and Gryffindors was perhaps even greater then than it is now."

"But my mother knew him," Harry pointed out. This startled Remus. "I had a dream last night, as Voldemort. I was able to see Brinecove's memories when Voldemort used legilimency on him. There was one of him talking to her."

Lupin did not seem to be buying it. "I doubt very much that they were friends, as Brinecove didn't have any. He probably just had a memory of her that he particularly enjoyed remembering. Your mother was a wonderful woman, after all, and quite a beauty as well." Harry repressed a shudder at the thought of Brinecove remembering how beautiful his mother was. "I'll be taking over Snape's guard detail in just under an hour. I take it you'll want me to arrange for him to be transported to the second floor girls' bathroom?" Harry gave the other man a quick nod. "You know, Harry, while I can't officially condone torture…"

"I don't have anything like that in mind," Harry assured him. "I just want some of my questions answered."

"Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind running one by him that's been puzzling me," Remus said thoughtfully. "You've assumed that Snape was attempting to switch the piece of Septimus Prince's soul inside of him with Voldemort's horcrux inside you as a way to save your life. But what if that wasn't the case?"

Harry frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"All I'm suggesting is that perhaps Snape had another motive for putting a shard of Voldemort's soul inside himself. One that had nothing at all to do with having your best interests at heart." Harry thought that over for a moment. He supposed it would be worth asking Snape about. He just hoped he could get some straight answers from the greasy git for once.

***
"I knew that there was something unusual about this bathroom," Luna assessed as she looked around the second floor girls' lavatory with a new sense of appreciation. "I always just thought it was home to a nest of giant cockatrices." Luna stuck her head underneath one of the faucets. "I didn't even know wizards had indoor plumbing a thousand years ago."

"It is a bit odd, isn't it?" Hermione asked no one in particular as she examined the row of sinks that hid the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. "Maybe this used to be something else when Hogwarts was built."

Ron snorted. "Do you really think that some old Hogwarts Headmaster had renovations done and didn't figure out that there was a gigantic pit underneath the floor? It must have always been a bathroom."

"Were you really inside the pit?" Luna asked as she pulled her head out of the sink. Ron nodded. "Tell me again how brave you were."

"Yeah Ron," Harry threw in teasingly. "Tell us." Harry was currently tending to Buckbeak, who had been staying with Hagrid ever since their return to Hogwarts. The hippogriff was to be their transportation out of the Chamber of Secrets.

Ron suddenly became very still. "Snape's coming." His eyes then widened in horror. "Blimey! I think I can sense him now, even when he's not in the same room with me. There's a power I'd just as soon not have. Although it might have come in handy a little earlier. Saved me from a few detentions, at least."

Slowly and while making furtive glances all around, Severus Snape entered the second floor girls' bathroom. Upon seeing the four of them, he sent Harry a disapproving glare. "I agreed to share information with you, Potter," he sneered, "not chaperone a double date. What is Miss Lovegood doing here?"

"I asked her to come along," Harry lied. "The more people I trust who know what you're about to tell me, the better."

Snape heaved a sigh. "Very well, Potter. If we're to proceed into the Chamber of Secrets, you shall have to open it." Harry promptly did so, speaking parseltongue to the snakes on the faucet pipes. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets revealed itself almost instantaneously.

After they fell through the tunnel, trudged through rat bones and rubble and Harry spoke parseltongue yet again, the five of them stepped inside the Chamber of Secrets. It was just as Harry remembered it: serpentine statues lined the pathway leading to a large stone likeness of Salazar Slytherin. Harry could still remember exactly how he felt when he saw Ginny Weasley lying on the stone floor, pale and lifeless with Tom Marvolo Riddle standing over her body. The memory made him shiver involuntarily.

"Have you ever wondered why this place is known as the Chamber of Secrets?" Snape asked unexpectedly. Ron looked like he knew the answer, but no one said anything. "It is because it leads somewhere else, somewhere hidden and very secret. A place that not just anyone, not even a parselmouth, could get to."

A thought struck Harry. "It's a tomb, isn't it? An Egyptian tomb." 'Just like in my dream.'

Snape glared at Harry disdainfully. "Yes, Potter, in your usual ignorant manner, you are correct. It is an ancient Egyptian tomb. Salazar Slytherin was a devoted member of the cult of Osiris, a group of dark wizards who believed that they could discover the secret of eternal life through the worship of an ancient wizard king who muggles mistook for a god."

"But aren't horcruxes the secret to eternal life?" Hermione asked. "Wouldn't these dark wizards have known about them?"

"As the three of you have proven, however ineptly, horcruxes can be destroyed," Snape explained. "It also requires the rendering of the soul into pieces. Some dark wizards consider this an undesirable solution to the problem." After glaring at Hermione for being so impertinent as to ask a pertinent question, Snape continued. "The cult of Osiris believed that there were twenty-six pieces of Osiris' body scattered about Egypt and the Levant. Slytherin spent decades tracking them down, although he came to Britain with only twenty-five of them. The last piece was rumored to have been transformed into the Emerald of Edessa."

"So that's why Voldemort thought that the Emerald might be Slytherin's horcrux," Harry reasoned aloud.

"Do not attempt to impress me with your limited knowledge of the matter at hand, Potter. Your girlfriend can tell you how much I loathe know-it-alls." Hermione frowned at him, but said nothing. "Slytherin brought the pieces here, far away from where anyone else in the cult was likely to follow him and built an underground temple to Osiris. He assembled the twenty-five pieces, long since transformed into magical relics, inside this temple and helped the other founders form Hogwarts only as a cover for his other activities. The cumulative magic accrued by the relics was potent, potent enough to keep Salazar Slytherin in a sort of permanent stasis. In order to actually grant Slytherin true immortality, however, the magic had to build inside the temple for a thousand years. In addition, Osiris would require a sacrifice to be made; namely, the thing the wizard seeking eternal life would hate to give up the most."

"Naturally, this put Slytherin in a pickle," Ron threw in with a grin as Snape glowered at him. "In a thousand years, there wasn't going to be anything around that he'd care about…except maybe for the last of his line. That's where the Knights of Walpurgis came in."

"Am I telling this story or are you?" Snape demanded icily.

"Sorry. I just thought you might have gaps in your memory," Ron remarked cheekily.

"As Slytherin lie dormant inside the temple," Snape continued, "the Knights of Walpurgis waited for centuries for the Heir of Slytherin to make himself known. When the Dark Lord appeared, there was little doubt in anyone's mind that this was who they had been waiting for. Once he eliminated his fellow contenders to become the last of Slytherin's line, they made their move. They flattered him, telling him that he would be the one to bring about Slytherin's return, without informing him of the Temple of Osiris. That is how my grandfather first met the Dark Lord, in his capacity as librarian for the Knights of Walpurgis."

"But the Knights only wanted Voldemort as a sacrifice, so that Slytherin could come back and lead them," Harry thought aloud as he began putting together what he had seen in dreams with what Snape was saying. "He wasn't too happy about it, either."

"Indeed," Snape agreed with a haughty sniff. "The Dark Lord rejected this idea out of hand, but was intrigued by Slytherin's plan to achieve immortality. In fact, he decided to become immortal himself by denying his ancestor what he has waited a millennium for. He plans to gain everlasting life by taking the magic that is rightfully Slytherin's and bestowing it on himself."

"A thousand years from when Salazar Slytherin lived," Hermione thought aloud. "That wouldn't be too far from now, would it?"

"It will happen in this year," Snape confirmed and Harry felt a cold chill run through his body. "Thirteen days before the cult of Osiris' great mystery festival would have begun on the seventeenth of Athyr."

"Halloween," Ron translated for the rest of them. "Bloody hell."

Harry regarded Snape seriously. "What's Voldemort's planning to do?"

"There are three things he must do to achieve immortality from the Temple of Osiris," Snape said solemnly. "First, he must eliminate Salazar Slytherin after he is awakened. Secondly, he must drink from the Chalice of Horus. Lastly, but by no means leastly, he must sacrifice you to Osiris."

"Me?" Harry asked, clearly startled by the idea. "Why me?"

"Voldemort must sacrifice what he would hate to lose the most," Snape elaborated with a wicked smile, "and while there is no love lost between you, the piece of his soul you harbor is worth a great deal to him."

Luna Lovegood, who had been absently using sticking charms to place feathers on the serpent statues, stopped abruptly and faced Harry. "You're a horcrux?"

Harry swallowed hard, still trying to come to terms with the idea that Voldemort was planning on sacrificing him to an Egyptian god. "Yeah, I am."

To his surprise, Luna smiled happily, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. "It's funny, isn't it? You spent all of that time looking for something that was inside of you the whole time." She ran her fingers down his face delicately, as though she were brushing something off of his cheek.

"Hey!" Ron called out, clearly made jealous by Luna's actions. "I'm a horcrux, too, you know."

Luna gave him a humoring nod. "Yes, of course you are, Ronald."

Hermione still looked aghast at what Voldemort was planning. "Would he really destroy a piece of his own soul? Even for a chance at immortality?"

"What do you think the Dark Lord has been doing since he was sixteen years old?" Snape demanded coldly. "He has cared for nothing other than prolonging his own life since he was merely a boy and has taken out pieces of his own soul six times to achieve that end. However, a soul that is torn cannot receive immortality by drinking from the Chalice of Horus. The Dark Lord knows this. In his mind, Harry must die in order for him to achieve immortality."

Harry was trying to work this out in his mind. "So all I have to do to defeat Voldemort is live?"

"To the Dark Lord's way of thinking, yes," Snape obfuscated.

A weight seemed to fall off of Harry's shoulders. "So that's good, then. I'll just avoid the Temple of Osiris."

"I'm not certain your great victory over the Dark Lord will be so cheaply won, Potter," Snape informed him disdainfully. "You are the one he prefers to sacrifice, but his murder of Salazar Slytherin may be deemed an acceptable alternative in Osiris' eyes. Also, as Mr. Weasley and myself have proven, living horcruxes aren't quite the same as Marvolo's ring or Slytherin's locket. They are mutable; they can change and adapt. It's possible that the horcrux's presence in you will not be enough to prevent the Dark Lord from achieving his ultimate goal." The former potions master barked a disgusted, bitter laugh. "Furthermore, the prophecy names you as the only one who can kill the Dark Lord. If you can believe any of the nonsense Trelawney spouts, you will have to enter the temple if we're to have any hope of stopping him."

Harry's shoulders slumped, as though the weight of the world had returned to them without warning. "So Voldemort's known for years that he would need to destroy the horcruxes," Hermione reasoned out loud. "But he would have to do it slowly and in a controlled manner, so that he couldn't be killed in the meanwhile." A thought occurred to her suddenly. "Has Voldemort been helping Harry to destroy the horcruxes?"

Snape actually managed to look impressed. "Very perceptive, Miss Granger. That is, in fact, exactly what the Dark Lord has been doing."

"Helping me?" Harry asked incredulously, well remembering the basilisk venom and the 'atash inflammare' spell, both of which had nearly killed him during the process of destroying one of Voldemort's horcruxes. "How has he been helping me?"

"Yeah," Ron agreed. For the first time since they had entered the Chamber, Ron no longer looked like he knew what Snape was about to say. "This I've got to hear."

Severus Snape sneered. "If you had given the matter even a small amount of thought, you would have figured it out yourself long ago. The Dark Lord has been testing you, Potter, to determine whether or not you were worthy to be sacrificed. In your first year at Hogwarts, he deliberately corrupted your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell, and coerced him into stealing Hufflepuff's cup. Once Quirrell had the cup, he was ordered to transfer that piece of the Dark Lord's soul into himself, so that he could inhabit the poor stuttering dimwit and face you directly. Professor Quirrell was your first test. Miraculously, you passed it.

"The Dark Lord then schemed to deliver his schoolboy diary to Lucius Malfoy, one of the most cowardly of his Death Eaters and the one with the most to lose if his status as a Death Eater were to be revealed. In what was hardly a coincidence, this was at a time when the Ministry was raiding homes, searching for banned dark magical objects. He knew Malfoy would have to put the diary somewhere safe and somewhere far away from himself. The Dark Lord had thought that perhaps he would send it to Hogwarts with his son, Draco. Instead it ended up in the hands of sweet, innocent Ginny Weasley who, I must say, did far more damage with it than Mr. Malfoy ever could have. Eventually, and with a great amount of help from Dumbledore and Miss Granger, you passed that test as well."

"Yeah, alright," Harry conceded with a quick nod. "Those two are pretty obvious. But what about the other horcruxes? What could Voldemort have possibly done to help me find Slytherin's locket or Ravenclaw's quill?"

"The Dark Lord might have been able to prevent Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban," Snape explained patiently. "He most definitely could have arranged for his execution once Peter Pettigrew had returned to his side. Pettigrew knew Sirius as well as anyone and, given time and the opportunity, would have been able to track him down. However, the Dark Lord hoped that Sirius might lead you to where his brother Regulus had hidden Slytherin's locket. In fact, he did, but you were too thickheaded to see it at the time." Harry thought immediately of finding Slytherin's locket at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place in his fifth year, but not recognizing it for what it was. "As for Ravenclaw's quill, once I noticed how enthralled you were by the dubious charms of Miss Cho Chang, I persuaded Professor Flitwick to award her Ravenclaw's quill, in hopes that you would discover that horcrux as you had the diary in your second year. Alas, once again, your hormones overruled what little intellect you possess and you never noticed what was right in front of you."

"By persuaded," Hermione asked, "you mean…?"

"My methods of persuasion are varied, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted her. "Do not always assume the worst of me."

Ron frowned. "What about Marvolo Gaunt's ring?" At the mention of the ring, Snape visibly blanched. "Voldemort didn't give Harry any clues about it."

Snape stiffened. "Ideally, it would have been a 'safe' horcrux, kept under lock and key until the Dark Lord felt the time was right to have it destroyed. However, since Mr. Potter did not find Ravenclaw's quill or Slytherin's locket as quickly as anyone might have hoped, the Dark Lord allowed Dumbledore to discover it in an obvious location."

"Why did you kill him?" Harry asked bluntly, sounding more like a child coping with the loss of a parent than the grand inquisitor that he'd hoped to be once he got Snape alone.

Severus Snape's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do you honestly think that I took pleasure in the act? That it was something I wanted to do?" When Harry did not reply, he continued. "I killed him because he asked me to, Potter. I killed him because there was no one else who he trusted enough to do the job. I killed him because I was the only one who could."

"He asked you to?" Luna asked in confusion. "Why would he ask you to murder him?"

Snape looked singularly unhappy to be answering a question from Luna Lovegood, but did so anyhow. "A horcrux is not a thing easily destroyed by those who cannot coax the sliver of the Dark Lord's soul out by speaking parseltongue. The magic Dumbledore used to destroy Marvolo Gaunt's ring was both powerful and very dark, so much so that it took some of his life force with it at a time in his life when he had precious little of it to spare. In short, Dumbledore was dying. When I told him both of the Unbreakable Vow I had taken to kill him in the event that Draco Malfoy could not and of the nature of the switching spell I planned to use to rid Potter of the horcrux within him, a look of steely determination came over his face. It was as though, at long last, he knew exactly what to do to solve all of his problems."

"What does the horcrux switching spell have to do with Dumbledore's death?" Hermione asked with a perplexed frown.

"In order for a piece of soul to leave one person's body and enter another's, there must be an emotional bond between them," Snape elaborated.

"Like between you and your grandfather," Ron threw in helpfully. Snape nodded.

"Gee, Snape," Harry said sarcastically, "I didn't know you cared."

"I don't," Severus Snape retorted. "The bond that exists between us is hatred. However, in order for the spell to work the hate we felt for each other had to be greater than any we had ever felt. You had to hate me more than you did the evil wizard who had killed your parents."

Hermione looked like she was following his reasoning. "So that's why you had to be the one to kill Dumbledore." Ron and Harry turned to glare at her. "What?"

"When I killed Dumbledore, it not only made Potter hate me more than he did the Dark Lord, it also made me despise him more than ever before." Now all eyes were back on Snape. "Albus Dumbledore may well have been the only wizard who ever trusted me. Not the piece of my grandfather's soul that I had within me, but me. He was a wonderful friend and a truly great wizard. The very idea that I had to shorten his life in order to help this ungrateful, untalented disrespectful fame-obsessed brat made me furious."

"How dare you," Harry snarled. "How dare you try to make me feel responsible for Dumbledore's death."

"How typical of you, Potter," Snape declared dismissively. "Never recognizing how much the sacrifices of others have contributed to your longevity, success and fame."

As Harry and Snape looked like they might come to blows, Hermione held Harry back. "At least wait until he's through answering our questions," she whispered in his ear. Then, turning around to face Snape, she added one of her own. "There's one thing I don't understand. If there had to be an emotional bond between you and Harry in order for the horcrux switching spell to work, why were you able to switch with Ron?"

"Two reasons, I'd think," Ron answered unexpectedly. "The first is that I hate Snape a lot and he hates me just as much." Snape acknowledged this fact with a small nod. "The second reason has to do with my natural mental defenses being weakened by the flying brain at the Department of Mysteries. I reckon that made it easier for the horcrux to worm its way inside me."

Hermione looked mildly irritated that Ron had answered her question and decided to ask Snape another one. "Do you think that it would be possible for us to try the switching spell again? If Ron would be willing, that is." With a brave smile, Ron acknowledged that he would be.

Snape scowled. "After the first attempt at the spell, Mr. Weasley should consider himself quite fortunate that he is not a vegetable. If the spell is tried twice, he might not be so lucky. As much as that outcome wouldn't bother me at all, I would imagine the four of you and the rest of his family might feel differently."

"I'm willing to take that risk," Ron stated, earning him an adoring look from Luna Lovegood.

"Well, I'm not," Harry said authoritatively. "I won't put Ron in a coma again just to rid myself of the piece of Voldemort's soul that's inside of me. Not if I can kill him without destroying the horcrux first."

"Indeed," Snape confirmed, "just as the horcrux that currently resides inside Mr. Weasley did not give my grandfather eternal life, the piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside you can in fact remain there while the Dark Lord himself dies." Snape looked thoughtful for a moment. "It wouldn't even lower the odds of your victory very much. At worst, they would go from infinitesimal to nonexistent."

Ron still looked worried. "You'd have to fight a two-front war, mate. You'll be facing Voldemort both within your own mind and in the flesh. Are you sure you can handle that?"

Harry did not feel very sure, but nodded anyway. "I'll keep practicing my occlumency lessons. I thought I might train some with Lupin as well."

"No amount of occlumency or training will prepare you to face him, Potter," Snape said snidely. "It will take nothing short of a miracle for you to emerge victorious."

"I think we've heard enough from you," Hermione cautioned as she pointed her wand in Snape's direction.

"Don't tell me the interrogation is over," Snape replied in mock surprise. "And all of my limbs are still intact. Will wonders never cease?"

"There's one more thing I want to know," Harry called out to him. "The night that Brinecove tried to become a Death Eater, you saved his life. Why?"

"The same reason I saved yours in your first year," Snape answered cagily. "I felt I owed him a life debt."

"Yet you don't trust him," Harry continued. "You said that he didn't belong at Hogwarts."

Snape shook his head. "No, I don't trust him. Neither did Dumbledore." Before Harry could ask any follow up questions, Snape said, "Commodus Brinecove has been desperate to get back inside of Hogwarts since he was eighteen years old. He even applied for the position of Arithmancy teacher, having had no more experience in that field than Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley. I have my suspicions about his reasons, but nothing I'd care to share with you."

Hermione frowned. "You've been very forthcoming about everything else. Why are you suddenly so tightlipped about Brinecove?"

"I swore an oath to Dumbledore that I would do everything within my power to make sure that Mr. Potter survives the final battle and that the Dark Lord does not. The oath does not require me to reveal everything I know about Brinecove." Snape sighed wearily. "I tire of answering your moronic inquiries. Are we quite finished here?"

As no one could come up with another question for Snape, the five of them began walking away from the statue of Salazar Slytherin which loomed over them. "You'll want to push hard against this snake statue. That should reveal the entrance to the Temple of Osiris." Ron pointed to one that was roughly in the middle. "See? Luna's already stuck feathers inside its mouth so it'll be easy to remember which one it is."

Hermione gave Ron an impressed look. "It's nice to have someone else around who knows things once in a while."

"Oh yeah," Ron bragged. "I know loads of stuff now. Septimus Prince probably read more books than you have."

"Is that even possible?" Harry wondered aloud to a snort from Ron and a betrayed glare from Hermione. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Snape walking behind them, a look of melancholy plastered on his face.

Just then, Harry felt very strangely. His head started to throb and his heart began to race. Suddenly, he dropped to his knees in pain.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, a look of deep concern etched on her face.

"No," Harry managed as he held his head in his hands, trying to stop what he was sure was happening from happening. "It's Voldemort…taking over…" His scar wasn't hurting as it had before, but he could feel that familiar dark presence inside him, moving about, growing stronger by the second…

"We have to get Harry to Madame Pomfrey," Hermione told Luna and Ron in no uncertain terms. "Now!"

Harry could only manage an ear piercing scream as he felt himself losing consciousness.

I really am evil. Only four chapters remaining (several of them may be as long as this one was, too.)

ITL

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