Hogwarts. March 1993. Somewhere in the abandoned classrooms.
"So what about Snape?" Alastor Moody said grumpily, leaning heavily on his crutch and looking at the wet snow falling outside the stained-glass window. It was the second half of March - the weather was no longer white and fluffy, becoming wet, capricious and unpleasant. Although just the day before yesterday - when Tonks and Snape were climbing through the Forbidden Forest in search of a tunnel to Hogwarts - there had never been such wetness.
But this was normal and understandable: despite the weather in Scotland, which differed from the weather in England or Wales, March remained a rather wet month in the British Isles - despite all the peculiarities of individual regions.
But what was NOT normal was Tonks' mentor's question!
- Chief! You don't ask: what kind of a move did we find, how are things with the centaurs - nothing about the course of our investigation! - the girl was indignant. - All the questions - literally from the moment Snape and I started searching - have only been about him! It seems like that's not what we're here for - is it?!
She clenched her fingers in indignation. Her mentor continued to stare at the stained glass. Although the eyelid of his natural eye began to visibly twitch, although the girl herself did not see it.
"Tonks," the old Auror croaked through his teeth. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he continued, "Tonks. Tell me: who is the Dark Wizard?"
It was one of those questions that wasn't asked of regular Auror students - Tonks knew that straight away! Although it wasn't the question she was expecting anyway.
Usually Moody asked them in a more... relevant way.
But, in any case, it was necessary to answer. After all, it was not Tonks' place to discuss the training methods of her immediate superior and mentor.
"A Dark Wizard is a wizard who uses the Dark Arts on a regular basis..." she uttered the almost canonical phrase from the relevant Ministry brochure. And, as expected, she was interrupted by Moody's irritated gesture:
- Yes, yes, you know the curriculum perfectly, I know that, - he snorted irritably. - But who is a Dark Mage in real life ? Are you silent? Let me explain!
The Auror turned to his subordinate, his blue artificial eye flashing in the semi-darkness of the room.
— A Dark wizard is a wizard who couldn't resist ! — he said with weight, limping closer to Tonks and looming over her. — Who fell under the temptation of Evil, succumbed to the temptation to gain power and might here and now — took the easy way out! He doesn't even necessarily use the Dark Arts all the time. He can do other dirty deeds. Kill valuable magical beasts for ingredients or kidnap Muggle children for experiments, — at this phrase Tonks turned pale and swallowed, and her hair acquired a pale green tint. — Dark magic is not necessary for this — but these deeds still make a person Dark! — the Auror waved his hand right in front of the girl's nose and walked back to the window. — Because he couldn't resist and took the "easy", as he thinks, path to wealth, power and glory! At the cost of one's own conscience, and even soul.
For a moment he looked again at the wet flakes of March snow falling behind the stained glass. When Moody spoke again, his voice was muffled:
- You know, there's a Muggle saying: if a claw gets stuck, the whole bird is lost. Is the moral clear?
"Are you saying that anyone who has ever stained themselves with the Darkness?..." Tonks frowned. She knew perfectly well that in such a mood it was better not to contradict the mentor or be sarcastic, as the girl was used to. But she was in no hurry to agree with him either.
"Exactly," Moody shook his half-gray head. "Albus can talk as much as he likes about forgiveness and 'second chances,' but the facts and statistics don't lie," the one-eyed Auror spat out. "If you study them, even a cretin will understand: 'second chances' almost never work! A person who has wallowed in this dirt, who has sensed the power and impunity of the Darkness, will never be able to forget this intoxicating feeling. And sooner or later," he turned back to the girl listening to him, "such a person will still turn down the wrong path…"
...When Tonks finally reported on the progress of her and Snape's investigation and Alastor let her go - she left frowning and thoughtful - Moody sighed and sank down onto the shabby chair standing nearby.
To be fair, they had done quite a bit of work! Finding an unaccounted passage into the Hogwarts dungeons and possibly into the Chamber of Secrets itself was quite a feat.
But his paranoia was still stirring inside. He was missing something in this story. Something very important!
Of course, Snape remained one of the suspects for him. There were too many coincidences!
If we leave out the most obvious - and indirect - evidence of his involvement, such as: a former Death Eater, the Dean of Slytherin and a former Slytherin himself, a half-blood with murky roots - then there remained the NOT obvious ones.
The slippery snake found a way to approach Tonks very quickly - well, the metamorph girl had always been overly impulsive and friendly. And so she did not attach any importance to the fact that she herself told about their adventures in the castle and the Forbidden Forest.
For example, Snape found this move very easily - as if he knew about it in advance! And the strange participation of Hagrid in this, who fifty years ago was already involved in the story with the Chamber of Secrets, should not be discounted. Naive Gryffindors and ordinary people could be deceived by the image of a naive big gamekeeper who loves animals and helps children - but Moody has seen too much shit in his life to buy into this!
Besides the fact that Hagrid was somehow involved in a scandal half a century ago, it was worth remembering his non-human origin. Of course, Alastor was not a pure-blood chauvinist obsessed with the likes of Malfoy and other rich snobs. But he was fully aware that the blood of giants is the blood of giants! Who knows what the offspring of these creatures will do for the sake of their... passion for animals. Even to conspire with a dark wizard and cover up his deeds.
And in general, the old Auror did not trust anyone from the numerous cohort of "second chances" that Director Dumbledore had gathered around him!
Alastor shook his head and clenched his teeth.
There was no hope for Albus in this sense. He made it clear that he would not allow digging under his protégés with a dark past. Moody did not know what kind of oaths and promises the headmaster took from these two in particular - but it was clearly something reliable. At least, Alastor tried to convince himself of this - there was no other way to drown out the screaming paranoia.
And she screamed, shouted, howled on the edge of consciousness - warning of the danger that was lurking somewhere very close! And from the side of someone from whom you would not expect a blow at all.
Alastor sighed and tried to sort out his feelings and suspicions. He often did this when he couldn't figure out where to go or who to dig under.
Snape. To be honest, he suspected him somehow out of inertia - for the most obvious reasons. Among which were both the facts of his biography and simply the image that the slippery dean of Slytherin had created for himself. Too simple. Too obvious. And Dumbledore's guarantee, despite all his quirks, was still not an empty phrase!
So Snape shouldn't be written off - but for now it was better to put suspicions about him aside.
Hagrid. Not such an obvious candidate - and certainly not for the role of the main criminal. He is certainly not the heir of Slytherin - that would be utterly absurd! But who is stopping him from helping the true heir? Who can guarantee that Riddle did not use the big half-giant for his own dirty purposes back then, half a century ago, promising... something. Perhaps it was he who gave Hagrid the baby acromantula, which he kept in an abandoned utility room? And made him confess to keeping a dangerous creature - to cover up his own antics!
And what did Albus say about last year? Some stranger allegedly "lost" a dragon egg to Hagrid! And if it weren't for little Malfoy and Snape who interfered, the half-witted forester would have hatched it to adulthood! Moody didn't know the details: only that Dumbledore kept this story a secret from everyone, sending the dragon to a Romanian reserve. But the very fact of the half-giant's strange squabbles with Snape (!) and the Malfoys (!!) under the same circumstances as in Riddle's time - all this gave rise to some doubt that Hagrid was an innocent victim in that story with the death of Myrtle Warren.
Weasley's friendship with the younger Malfoy looked even stranger. It was completely out of bounds!
And now, that greasy bastard Snape has taken the youngest of the Weasley sons along with Malfoy and a couple of extras to a chess tournament in Europe. And only Mordred knows what they were whispering to little Ronald!
Well. If Snape and Hagrid were using Dumbledore's guarantee... Maybe it was worth taking a closer look at the Weasleys? Such behavior and such acquaintances were not at all typical for the modest red-haired family. And that meant that the feeling that the culprit was someone you would not expect to be a dirty trickster could be confirmed.
Moreover, Alastor knew very well how it sometimes happens. Snape is an example of this: a poor half-blood, wanting recognition and glory - and now he is an ally of the Dark Lord himself! Without whose recommendations no one would have started training an unknown upstart, no matter how brilliant a potion maker he was.
Moody saw the same thing in Ron Weasley. The sixth son of a not very well-off family: what prospects could he have? And here - profitable connections, attention, fame and, in the long run, wealth. The standard Slytherin scheme for turning people into Dark wizards!
So - constant vigilance! Even your own can stab you in the back, even the most loyal and proven. How many such cases were there in the last war? One of them made Alastor a cripple for life.
It's decided! The younger Weasleys are to be kept under observation. Ronald - as having suspicious connections, Ginevra - just in case.
He sighed. All these events were, of course, important and dangerous - no joke, the Horror of the Secret Chamber! But the same intuition and paranoia told him that this was a consequence. The cause...
Alastor felt in his pocket with the space expansion charms a fragment of asphalt lying there with a strange rune burned into it - the same one that he had miraculously dug up at the site of the strange warlock's ritual in Little Whinging. In another similar pocket - only with a bunch of protective charms - lay the records from the Department of Mysteries, obtained by his friend Al Pym.
Moody sensed that it was not so much what was happening at the school that needed to be sorted out, but rather these materials. The strange runes and rituals, the creepy customs of the goblins – and what they were carrying with them!...
Хогвартс. Апрель 1993 года. Снова Поттер.
"Little Ronniekins is positively beaming with pride ," commented Sweet Tooth as they sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, eating their lunch. "No doubt about it, he's a good boy! But to be so cocky..." he snorted.
"I thought you liked it when people were proud of their achievements," Harry shrugged. Hermione, sitting next to him, pretended not to notice the gesture - she knew who her friend was talking to.
"Ronald forgets that this is not only his merit - and this is bad," - explained Smarty for the Slaanesh. "For a chess player - it is absolutely disgusting! Forgetting about such factors as organization and financing is unforgivable! But it was the organization of their club and the financing of the trip that were provided by the Malfoys, without which our red-haired friend would not have gone anywhere at all."
"I just feel sorry for Dracusic ," Sweet Tooth sang capriciously. "Hogwarts may have won the competition, but in fact it was Weasley! Such a blow to the pride of young Malfoy..."
"Difficulties and blows temper ," Smart Man said importantly.
"You sound just like Ruffnut," Harry chuckled to himself.
"Our hot-blooded Khorne friend sometimes makes very wise remarks ," the Tzeentchian daemon smirked, clearly hiding some kind of double meaning in his phrase - as evidenced by Ruffnut's grumbling in the depths of Harry's mind. Harry was very sensitive to the mockery directed at him. "Draco is on probation too, remember? Not as tough as Ginny, but still. Let him get used to difficulties."
"You wanted to tell us some kind of plan, Mordred's sparkling bastard!" the Khornate finally barked impatiently. "We've fed this soul shard enough - it's time to put it to use!"
"Yes, yes, I wanted to talk about that ," the Smarty "sighed" tiredly. And then he spoke quite cheerfully: "Well, very soon it will be time for the final performance! The grand battle, after which we will be able to declare with a clear conscience that Hogwarts is freed from the Terror of the Chamber of Secrets!"
"But…" Harry said carefully. "Didn't we want to keep the basilisk?"
"Just because we get rid of him from Hogwarts doesn't mean we get rid of him completely, " Smarty smirked back. "You don't want the school to close, do you? Or worse, have Auror raids start?"
"Hm," Potter didn't answer this, moving away from the table and wiping his lips.
"We started all this in order to temporarily distract the attention of those around us from how we are dedicating Hermione to our affairs ," the Tzeentch reminded. "Along the way, we also need to seize a new Horcrux and acquire a new toy - a basilisk. We have done the first, and the last - too. Once we complete the second, it will be time to end the performance with the Chamber of Secrets."
"And we'll need young Ginevra ," Goodfella boomed good-naturedly, putting in his word. "Her trial is coming to an end - and so far she's been steadfast in taking the blows of fate..."
"The girl is a rock ," Zabiyaka grinned maliciously. "Active, combative, angry - an excellent acquisition!"
"Who will get her if she survives, we'll decide later ," Umnik concluded. "Now we need to come up with a scenario for the final battle!"
"Snape and Tonks found the entrance to the catacombs in the area of the Chamber of Secrets," Harry thought, leaning back a little and lazily sipping pumpkin juice. "If you add Lockhart to this showdown..."
"Oh, yes!" chuckled Sweet Tooth. "This nothing will serve as excellent lubricant for your blade, my dear Harry."
The last phrase sounded rather ambiguous, but Potter chose not to notice it, immersing himself in calculations and thoughts, under the mumbling around him. Including Ron's bragging.
..."A thousand Galleons for first place in the tournament!" the sixth Weasley exclaimed smugly. "Mom and Dad have already sent a postcard with congratulations, can you imagine?" he clapped Harry on the back joyfully - so hard that he almost choked on his juice. "And in July, as soon as the holidays begin - we're going on holiday to Egypt. Bill has already found out about the hotel and resort - but that's not the coolest thing! He promised in the letter that he would take us to excavate the tomb of the ancient wizard-priest Nevkhodiubietis... or something like that - in general, a creepy place! Full of traps, mummies and ancient epic artifacts!"
However, the flow of bragging was interrupted when a familiar voice was heard behind the second-year students:
- Ancient Egyptian, Mr. Weasley. And you mangled the name of the unfortunate wizard-priest so badly that the poor fellow must have turned over in his sarcophagus! - Snape's caustic voice was unmistakable. - I always wonder, - the Potions teacher continued when they turned to him, - how you managed to win the chess tournament with such a speech impediment and ignorance of primitive concepts?
"P-professor?" Ron could only blink, swallowing another piece with difficulty and staring at the teacher.
"Don't be late, Mr. Weasley," the professor meanwhile replaced his causticity with his usual coldness. "You are expected in the headmaster's office immediately after lunch. Dress code: formal."
"Er... the front door?" Ron asked even more stupidly, causing Harry to laugh involuntarily. Luckily, Snape chose not to notice.
"Front, Weasley, means clean, tidy, with all the badges and regalia... which you don't have," he chuckled slightly. "So just try to at least find an unwrinkled robe."
After which, casting a slightly contemptuous glance at Ron from head to toe, he turned around dramatically and headed towards the exit of the Great Hall.
"I wonder what will be waiting for us there?" Ron frowned, putting more force into his food: he took the command "don't linger" as "cram everything around you into yourself at triple speed".
"Not us, but you," Hermione raised her finger admonishingly. "They're calling you."
"Yeah, I meant Scabbers and me," Ron snorted in response, taking out his rat and stroking its mangy withers.
Harry grimaced: Ron's rat irritated him. And no, not so much because of its shabby and sad appearance - communication with Kindly in thoughts, and meeting a real Nurgling in reality completely drove away the feeling of disgust. But there was something strange about this rat - a boring itch on the edge of consciousness - that did not allow him to treat it calmly.
Although Ron's habit of laying his mangy pet on the dinner table, causing everyone around him to wince in disgust, amused Harry. Waves of disgust emanating from the other Gryffindors washed over his consciousness, swaying the warp and causing Kindly One to giggle.
When they finally got up from the dinner table - with Ron whining about how he hadn't eaten enough because of the rush - Harry and Hermione fell slightly behind their red-haired friend. They exchanged meaningful glances and resolutely followed Weasley.
The entrance to the Headmaster's office, where they had escorted Ron, was a stone gargoyle that opened the door if the correct password was given. Snape was already there, impatiently tapping his foot.
"You're late, Weasley," he said in the same cold voice that went straight to the liver. "And I don't remember allowing you to bring strangers with you!"
"Oh, Severus! The boy is just nervous - that's why he brought a support group," someone said behind the Potions teacher. "Am I right?" the speaker asked Ron, looking out from behind Snape and winking at the boys.
It was a young and pretty girl with bright pink hair that barely reached her ears. She was dressed in an Auror robe, under which she could see ordinary Muggle clothes, and on her hands she wore leather fingerless gloves - Harry remembered that these were called "mittens", and they had recently become very popular among muggles.
"Tonks," Snape closed his eyes with some tired resignation. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, we were going to go to the Forbidden Forest and…" she began, but was interrupted by Snape:
"Tonks!" he hissed angrily, narrowing his eyes. "Not here!"
- Oh! - she was a little embarrassed. But Harry understood that "a little" from the mischievous gleam in the girl's eyes. - Sorry, sorry!
She winked again at the trio of Gryffindors and asked:
- What's the big deal if the guys come in with a friend?
"Because Mr. Weasley has to leave the school through the Floo – his parents are already waiting for him. And the permission to do so was written out only for him," Snape explained, rolling his eyes. And then, apparently to get rid of the clingy girl in the Auror's robes, he stepped towards Ron and, grabbing him by the elbow, dragged him towards the gargoyle. "No time left, Weasley. Chocolate frogs!" he snapped towards the statue, which caused it to jump aside, revealing a view of the stairs moving upward. "Wait for me at the entrance to the school, Tonks! And you," he glanced towards the silent Harry and Hermione, "get out of here!"
As the gargoyle returned to its place, Tonks smirked and turned back to the Gryffindors.
"He's a sweetheart, isn't he?" she said, smiling, before waving at them and hurrying away, leaving Potter and Granger to wonder alone.
"She's not talking about Snape, is she?" Harry asked his friend incredulously.
"I'm not sure," she shook her head, also thrown off track. The words "Snape" and "darling" stubbornly refused to go together in their heads.
But they quickly threw all this nonsense out of their heads and looked at each other understandingly.
"Wait at the school exit, right?" Harry chuckled, knowing Granger would understand perfectly.
"We were going to go to the Forbidden Forest," Hermione also quoted back, smiling.
"Well, it looks like it's time," Harry smiled as well, after which they rushed off down the corridor – towards Moaning Myrtle's toilet…
The Hogwarts area. April 1993. Severus Snape.
- ...And then, as always, I appear at the right time! - Gilderoy Lockhart's voice, dripping with self-satisfaction, reached Severus even as he approached the school gates. - At the very last moment, when the manticore had already raised its deadly sting over an innocent victim, I stood in its path with my chest - and parried the blow! It's good that you were not there, dear Nymphadora, - Snape choked slightly - because of how this peacock called Tonks. - I would have admired your incomparable beauty and probably received a wound - right in the heart! ...
No longer listening to this nonsense, Severus frowned and quickened his pace: Mordred's Lockhart was now at risk of getting punched in the face! And not only from him.
When he turned the corner and saw the whole picture of what was happening, he involuntarily narrowed his eyes angrily. Because the dressed-up DADA teacher was at that very moment making advances towards Tonks in the most unambiguous way! That is, putting his arm around the girl's shoulders, leaning towards her ear and taking her hand in his palm. And not noticing the expression on Tonks's face - who clearly didn't know what to do. Whether to gently move away, or to slap this self-confident rooster. And Severus, without understanding why, smiled contentedly at that expression.
What's interesting is that this time Tonks noticed Snape in advance. And so she didn't twitch, as she usually did in the last couple of months.
"Miss Tonks," he said in his normal voice, pleased to see that, unlike the Auror girl, Lockhart flinched and nearly fell over, moving away from Nymphadora.
"Severus!" she cried happily, snatching her hand from the sourly grimacing Gilderoy. "And while I was waiting for you, I had a little chat with Professor Lockhart..."
"For you, it's just Gil, my dear Nymphadora," the golden-haired DADA teacher smiled radiantly, having already managed to come to his senses, glancing warily at Snape. "And I didn't know you were expecting anyone…"
"I expected it," Tonks smiled back, taking a long step towards Severus and... taking his arm. Snape froze for a couple of seconds like a black statue in surprise, which allowed the impudent girl to continue: "We were just about to go on a date!"
Despite the fact that he was deeply indignant at the way the question was put, Severus could not deny himself the pleasure of admiring the astonished and offended expression on Lockhart's face. However, after a couple of seconds he nevertheless freed his hand from the girl's grip and commented coldly:
"If I were you, Tonks, I'd take this trip to the Forbidden Forest a little more seriously," he said. "Such a frivolous attitude towards our investigation..."
"Are you investigating?" Lockhart broke in, causing Snape to gnash his teeth angrily. "Oh, these mysterious attacks!" Gilderoy threw up his hands. "No doubt, if I had taken it upon myself, I would have solved the mystery in no time! But you, beautiful Nymphadora, are also resourceful and courageous, and so I have no doubt..."
Snape wasn't paying much attention to Lockhart's annoying chatter. He was far more interested in the expression on Tonks's face at that moment. A moment ago, when the peacock had once again rashly called her Nymphadora - a name Severus had learned she hated - he had thought Tonks would hit Lockhart. But then her expression had become somehow... sardonic?
- But then we absolutely need your presence, Professor! - the girl exclaimed with false - as far as Snape could tell - enthusiasm, in turn taking the DADA professor's hand with both hands and looking straight into his eyes with the look of an ecstatic fool. - I have read all of your books - and I know that you will not retreat from the threat that hangs over the school! And you will not abandon a weak - an even more disgusting puppy look - an inexperienced girl in trouble, who is going to climb right into the lair of the beast!
Лицо Локхарта на несколько мгновений застыло в неподвижности, ничего не выражая. А получившаяся пауза дала Северусу, наконец, понять, зачем Тонкс был этот идиотский спектакль.
Snape had already managed to get to know the character of this nonentity, who wrote idiotic pulp novels that supposedly described his own exploits. Saccharine dross for enthusiastic teenage girls or bored housewives - nothing more.
Now, in addition to his disgusting taste - or rather, his complete lack of it - his boastful statements and his complete incompetence, Lockhart had another significant flaw.
He was a coward. A complete, utter coward and a worthless nobody!
Oh, Potions Professor Severus Tobias Snape understood this issue better than anyone else! Because he himself was often considered a coward. But no matter how much he tormented himself, he still did not consider himself a coward.
Even those he hated with all his soul, and those who hated him - they all had some rudiments of courage, bravery... principles in the end! Voldemort, Sirius Black, Alastor Moody and even James, fucking Potter - they were all truly brave and selfless people! Let them be maniacs, idiots or just assholes - but they were !
But this... scribbler - no. A dummy with inflated fame and insignificant aspirations - he simply did not exist . A screen, a facade, a dry shell - hiding the emptiness inside.
And Tonks had realized this too, to Severus's strange relief. And she had tried to make Gilderoy show his worthlessness, his cowardice and lack of courage! And - again to Snape's surprise - he realized that she had done this for him.
Shaking his head and pursing his lips in irritation, the Potions Master threw the idiotic thoughts out of his head. He didn't need such thoughts! After all, he was already over thirty, he was the most unpopular school teacher in the hundreds of years of Hogwarts' existence, a confirmed bachelor - and he would see some childishly naive signs of attention from a girl who had only stopped being a schoolgirl a year ago? No thanks!
But the strategy of making Lockhart look like a fool appealed to him. Now this blond rooster would smile tensely, now he would start unconsciously wringing his hands, making excuses and coming up with idiotic reasons not to go with them. Now…
But the DADA professor managed to surprise them.
"It's my duty!" Lockhart exclaimed pompously, with some kind of feverish bravado, grabbing Tonks's hand and imprinting a kiss on it - not noticing her eyes widening in surprise. "But what are we waiting for?! Forward!"
With these words, he rushed first down the stairs that led from the entrance to the main building to the school gates, almost dancing along the way.
"Ah… I'm not quite that…" Tonks muttered, still wide-eyed.
"Meaning?" Snape asked back without much malice, narrowing his eyes in the direction of Lockhart's retreating form. Was it his imagination, or were the blond boy's pupils unnaturally dilated and gleaming a strange pink-violet color? It seemed as if he had been drugged with some kind of narcotic potion. But what kind? And - most importantly - who?!
But Severus couldn't think about it properly - he had to run after Mordred's Lockhart. Was he high on something or was he just pissed off from the proximity of a pretty girl - Merlin forbid he break his neck tripping over some root! Who was he supposed to answer to? Certainly not the "cutest girl"!
Half an hour later, they more or less arrived at the place as a united company - that is, at the ravine where the entrance to the Hogwarts catacombs was.
- And what kind of Mordred ballast is this? - Moody, who was standing there, roared furiously, even hitting the barely sprouting grass with his crutch in frustration. - To-onks? - He slowly turned his gaze to the student standing there, who had already pulled her head into her shoulders and even opened her mouth to make excuses - but then the culprit of the commotion himself intervened:
"Oh, do not blame the beautiful Nymphadora!" Lockhart exclaimed, causing even Snape and Tonks to look surprised again. Not to mention the others. "I myself, as the incomparable hero of ancient tales, have come to protect the maiden from the Beast! To prove to the beautiful lady…"
"Snape!" Moody hissed, limping towards Severus while the insane blond was ranting pompously throughout the Forbidden Forest. "What Mordred?! What did you give him to drink?!"
"Do I look like an idiot, Moody?" Severus raised an eyebrow with cold fury and narrowed his eyes in turn. "If he swallowed something, it's not my fault! They say the Muggles are developing more and more sophisticated drugs that cause a similar effect. You never know."
It was then that he noticed two other people present.
"Lupin," Snape said with measured – that is, not excessive – hostility.
"Sever... Er, I mean Snape," the man with reddish-brown hair, dressed in a shabby gray-blue frock coat, smiled awkwardly. He jerked his hand as if to shake hands, but at the last moment, embarrassed, he pretended that he simply wanted to smooth his hair.
Severus measured him with an indifferent look, but still did not begin to sneer at the general not particularly prosperous appearance of his old acquaintance. After all, Remus Lupin had once been the most adequate of the Marauders. And he tried, as best he could, to soften the attacks of his comrades on young Snape - and in such a way that it did not look like humiliating pity!
So, despite the fact that this "man" had once almost accidentally killed him, Severus considered it wrong to humiliate Lupin. After all, he had once been in his place: just as poor, just as misunderstood and unappreciated. An unbidden thought surfaced that for him, the half-Muggle Severus Snape, life was currently going much better than for the pure-blooded wizard, but at the same time, the downtrodden werewolf Remus Lupin.
And, of course, he knew about the conditions in which werewolves lived. More precisely, those of them who could not cross their conscience and honor. Those who could, on the contrary, were doing quite well - and this knowledge also did not allow him to humiliate the former Marauder. In the end, it was a very... Light act.
"Let's leave the unnecessary talk, Lupin," Severus said crisply, making it clear that he was not going to talk about extraneous topics. "We have business and we have... problems," here he glanced sideways at Lockhart, who was smiling blissfully, waving his hands and chatting - he was just chatting something to the second new member of their little expedition, Hagrid.
"He smells funny," Lupin sniffed wolfishly and pointed at Lockhart when the others had moved away from him and Snape a little. Severus glanced sideways at his former classmate, but said nothing. "You know... When I stopped being so embarrassed about my... my furry problem ," he sighed. "I started finding advantages in it.
"Are you trying to confess to me now, Lupin, or what?" Severus stared coldly into his interlocutor's face. He knew that a werewolf's sense of smell was no joke! But he still couldn't do anything about his hostility.
"Sever... er, Snape," Remus corrected, embarrassed. "Look, I know we didn't get along at all in school, but we're not quite..."
"...Not exactly a good time to be bringing up school bullying?" Severus asked venomously. But then he said a little more gently, "It really is not a good time. So what did you smell?"
"This Lockhart smells... odd," Lupin frowned, as if that conversation about their old school relationships had never happened. "Sweet at the same time, like alcohol, or Muggle drugs, or diluted Amortentia. And at the same time, like heated scales. Snake scales!"
"You mean to say?..." Severus frowned, but at that moment Hagrid's loud bass voice was heard, accompanied by the ringing of the string of his enormous bow being pulled tight:
- Basilisk!
What their entire squad didn't expect was an attack from the Horror of the Secret Chamber before they even got down into the catacombs!
But they expected that Gilderoy Lockhart, drugged with an unknown potion, would rush at the terrible creature with almost his bare ass... but, again, in different circumstances!
- Most beautiful Nymphadora! I dedicate this blow to you! And if I... - at this point his speech was interrupted. Simply because a huge horned snake crawled out of a hole in the ground and simply bit him across the body, almost biting him in half and dragging him into its hole.
A pause for a second.
"Everyone follow him," Alastor Moody croaked hoarsely, gritting his teeth. "Remus and… Snape," he gritting his teeth again. "You are responsible for the intern's safety ," he looked hard at Tonks, "head! Forward!"
Snape, Tonks, Hagrid and Remus Lupin quickly moved into the hole in the ground. They intended to finish off the Snake of Slytherin before he reached the safety of the Chamber of Secrets!...
Hogwarts, Chamber of Secrets. April 1993. Potter again.
...And only Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, sitting in that very Chamber of Secrets, who were vigorously chasing away hundreds of probabilities and Threads of Fate at that time, simultaneously conducting a ritual over the flayed body of the house-elf Pinkie, knew that the Serpent of Slaanesh would survive in any case. The question was - who would he take with him?
Because Alastor Moody, so inconvenient as an enemy - and convenient as a victim, seemed to sense something and remained on the surface. But the young Chaosites already had plans for the rest, so killing them would be stupid.
Well, at least the Prince of Pleasure had a new soul. Too bad Gilderoy Lockhart was so worthless that he succumbed so easily to the Venom of Slaanesh that Harry had spat into his goblet in a diluted state.
But, on the other hand, Potter made Tzeentch, the Smart Guy's patron, very happy. And not with this boring fuss with the basilisk, but specifically...
"Prospects ," the Tzeentchian daemon smirked. "Those events and 'changes' that must come to pass!" If he could, the Smart One would clap his hands.
"I only see that the events that were supposed to happen in June-August will happen... literally in a couple of weeks!" Harry said grumpily when he and Granger were already going up to Moaning Myrtle's toilet.
At this time, the main action was supposed to happen: the brave team of "heroes" drives the basilisk into an underground grotto, after which they barely escape when the raging monster collapses the cavern's vault on itself. And then they find the unconscious — but alive — Ginny Weasley with Tom Riddle's black Horcrux diary, which she herself had cut up.
Evidence of the basilisk's death - check. The Chamber of Secrets is rendered harmless - check. A hero? How is Ginevra of the Weasleys not a hero?
And who cares that the basilisk simply crawled into previously explored holes, fleeing into the foothills surrounding the Forbidden Forest? Or that the entrance to the Secret Chamber was never discovered? The monster has been neutralized - and that's enough!
Only Alastor Moody rolled his eyes gloomily, trying to take it all in. He had a very bad feeling - again! - that he had been tricked and outplayed.
I hope the fucking Ministry doesn't start making a big deal out of Lockhart's death and blaming him for it! I hope not!...
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