Chapter 56: Memories, Old and NewSummary:Sleep is hard to come by, and so is the Professor.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextHazel found herself, for the first time in months, hovering behind the tiny form of Voldemort's homunculus. Wormtail cowered before him while an enormous snake slithered about; Lockhart and Malfoy lurked in the background…
("Tell me again… how Crouch failed…" Voldemort wheezed, pausing to fill his tiny lungs.)
("M-My Lord! The Potter brat saw through his ruse somehow!")
(The tiny figure struggled to raise a wand with his minuscule hands, yet he spoke quite calmly. "Crucio.")
In her sleep, Hazel whimpered, feeling her scar sear with pain, but she did not awaken.
("How many times… must I warn you… Wormtail? Speak of her… with respect…")
(Wormtail stopped screaming when the spell lifted, and struggled to his feet. "Th-The Potter girl, then, she saw through our plans. Months of work have been derailed!")
("He was able to warn us, at least. The moment his father turned up, he knew his time was short." Malfoy looked more haggard and run down than ever, the drama of the divorce clearly getting to him.)
("Yes… Barty Senior… he was also… your responsibility… was he not… Wormtail?")
(Lockhart growled and made as if to kick the cowering man. "You should have sent word to the castle as soon as he got free, you dullard!")
("Peace, Gilderoy… No need for… histrionics…")
("My Lord! How can I make up for this failure?" Wormtail was pathetically eager to regain whatever honor he had lost.)
("You know… what to do… Wormtail. Return to… make sure the… third Task… proceeds… as planned…")
("Of course, my Lord! I breathe at your pleasure!")
("Shall I accompany Wormtail, my Lord? Simply as insurance, of course.")
("No, Lucius… you are hardly… presentable… these days…" The wheezing words trailed off in a malicious laugh, and the fallen patriarch's unctuous smile grew strained. "No, we will… send Wormtail… with a reminder… Crucio!")
(Wormtail's screams filled the room…)
Hazel jerked awake with a start, instinctively working to store the vision away in her dream trap. She checked the rest of the dorm, worried she might have been screaming herself, but none of the other girls were stirring.
"We're not out of the woods yet," she said to herself, focusing inward to calm down and go back to sleep. This time she drew her Occlumency around herself more closely, so she wouldn't have any more dreams.
She had barely dropped off before a faint pop woke her up yet again, and a squeaky voice in her ear: "Miss Hazel Potter wanted to see Winky?" She opened her eyes to find the disheveled house-elf sitting on her bed.
"Ah, Winky, took you long enough." Knowing how melodramatic house-elves could be about their emotions, she put up a silencing charm so the others wouldn't also be woken up. "You've heard about your master and his son, by now?"
Winky sniffled. "Yes, Winky has been tending to Young Master Barty in the cells. Master Barty is still asleep, still ranting and raving, or else Winky would be helping him too!"
"Winky, listen to me." She sat up and took Winky's hands in her own. "Barty Junior is probably going back to prison after this is all over, plus he's probably officially dead so he can't inherit you anyway. And Barty Senior released you from the family, do you think he'll want you back?"
"Winky can't be giving up on her family! Winky is knowing things, knowing all of Master's secrets…"
"But your family has given up on you. Don't you want to be bound to a respectable family and their house?"
Winky shrugged uneasily, not meeting her eyes. "Winky is knowing Miss Hazel is correct, but… but…!"
"You don't have to share any of those secrets, I promise. We just want what's best for you, alright? Kreacher and Dobby can look after you until you're back on your feet, then you can bind yourself to Sirius and the house."
"Okay, as long as Winky won't be forced to betray her old masters."
"I promise." She rubbed her heir ring, and Kreacher appeared after a moment. "Kreacher, take Winky and make sure she gets cleaned up, then present her to Sirius in the morning."
"As Mistress Hazel commands." He bowed low, then took Winky by the elbow and disappeared with her once more.
There were no more interruptions until morning, and Hazel went up to breakfast with the others after getting ready for the day. There was a rumor going around that Astronomy classes had been rescheduled so that Sinistra could sub in for Defense the rest of the year; it probably wouldn't affect the Slytherins very much since they had Defense in the afternoon, but she shuddered to imagine what the morning classes would have to put up with.
After Runes that day, she presented her blank wands to Professor Babbling, who examined them carefully. "Remind me never to doubt you again, Miss Potter. For a student, these are very well done."
Hazel couldn't keep the eagerness from her voice. "Am I ready to carve my wand, then?"
"Nearly. I'm going to send these to Mr Ollivander, have him decide. He's the wand expert, after all."
"Aw, fine." There was nothing she could do, she reckoned, so she gave in with good grace.
When classes were over she went to Snape's office, but he wasn't there. She shrugged and headed for Dumbledore's office instead. "Peppermint humbugs," she told the gargoyle, and it moved aside for her.
But there was no one in here either, and she glared up at the snoozing portraits. "What the hell!" Fawkes was there at least, and she went to pat him on the head. "I can rely on you, at least." The bright orange bird crooned and butted her hand for more pats.
She was about to head back out when she noticed a silvery glow coming from a cabinet left ajar. Curiosity got the better of her and she went to check it out, pulling the door open to find a shallow stone basin inside, carved around the edge with runic symbols she didn't immediately recognize. The silvery glow was emanating from the contents of the basin; Hazel couldn't tell if the stuff was a liquid or a gas, only that it was a bright, whitish silver like platinum, and was moving ceaselessly. Even then she couldn't explain what it reminded her of, whether it was like clouds parting or like water being stirred by a gust of wind.
She drew her wand and was about to prod the substance (knowing very well how stupid it was to simply shove one's appendages into a mysterious substance), when she heard footsteps and voices from the spiral staircase. Knowing she was caught red-handed she didn't bother hiding; she closed the cabinet again, put her wand away and crossed the room to sit in one of the chairs.
The door opened, and Dumbledore entered the room, closely followed by Snape. "Hazel, what a pleasant surprise. Though, considering your last visit to my office…"
"Yes sir. I'm glad you're both here, I need to speak to both of you."
Both men sat down and gave her their attention. "What is going on, Miss Potter?"
"I had another night vision, sir, of Voldemort and his minions."
The twinkle vanished from Dumbledore's eye. "Would you consent to letting us view it, Hazel?"
"Certainly, sir, let me just-"
"Ah, no, not with Legilimency." He waved his wand, and the cabinet opened, the stone basin floated gently out and came to rest on the desk. "This, my dear, is a Pensieve. Useful for when one's thoughts and memories grow a little too hectic for one to keep up with."
She threw a confused look at Snape, who rolled his eyes. "It allows you to observe and interact with your memories, Miss Potter, in a more direct way than Legilimency or Occlumency. You merely withdraw the chosen memory from your mind and pour it into the basin."
"Ah, well, go ahead then." Dumbledore placed the tip of his wand to her temple and extracted a long, thin strand of silvery stuff, the same sort of stuff in the basin. The contents swirled and grew much darker. It gave her the shivers for a moment. "That's ominous."
"Indeed. Shall we?" The three of them gathered around the basin, and leaned forward; Hazel felt like she was being pulled in, expected to hit the bottom of the basin, but instead she kept falling, through a cold and shadowy area until she landed at the bottom, finding herself in a dark room.
The memory played out as she recalled, only with more detail. The background was filled in properly, and she could see the four men and the snake were gathered in a sitting room of some kind, around a fire. She flinched each time Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail.
The memory froze after the second casting. "This is when I woke up. Sir, I've felt this before, when I was pulled into Riddle's diary!"
"Not here." Dumbledore looked up, and she did the same, seeing a distant silvery light above her head. "Focus on the light, Hazel, on leaving this place and returning to my office."
She did so, and found herself rising out of the memory and back into her own body. It was very strange, she decided, spending time in her own memories like that.
"What were you saying about the diary, Potter?"
"Ah, right. Being pulled into the Pensieve felt very similar to being pulled into the diary, viewing the memory Riddle's imprint showed me."
"I am not surprised. There are few spells related to manipulating and viewing memories, he would have had to use one of them. It would seem that Voldemort's machinations are not at an end."
"Wormtail's coming here, we need to keep an eye out."
"Quite so. That Map of yours will come in very handy, Hazel."
"Headmaster, it would be wise to let Miss Potter view what we were considering earlier."
"Those old trials, Severus? Surely not."
"What trials? I want to see."
Dumbledore sighed and prodded the Pensieve once more. "Very well. Step up, my dear."
Once again she was drawn into the silvery memories, and this time found herself in a brightly lit room of carven stone. It was a very large room with several benches on stepped levels, and in the center was an uncomfortable looking chair surrounded by chains.
"This is the Wizengamot's chamber of judgment. These people cannot see or hear us, no matter what we may do." Looking around, Hazel saw at least two hundred witches and wizards seated on the benches, all staring down at the center with an expectant air. She was somewhat bemused to find herself sitting next to a second Dumbledore, only slightly younger than the one she was familiar with. And beyond him was a much younger Mad-Eye Moody, one that still had both his eyes.
Hazel sat back and watched as Dementors brought a man in, shaking and afraid, and deposited him in the chair where the chains snaked up and bound him fast. It was a much younger Igor Karkaroff, and as the proceedings began, led by a much younger and fitter Barty Crouch, she realized these were Death Eater trials.
Karkaroff, it seemed, had begged for a second trial so he could name names and get his sentence reduced. She leaned forward as he finally got around to naming those names, after a lot of simpering about regret and remorse: Antonin Dolohov, Evan Rosier (who apparently had taken a piece of Moody's nose before his death), Travers and Mulciber, Augustus Rookwood, Severus Snape.
The names were met with a range of disdain and cynicism, as apparently the majority of them had already been killed, captured or vouched for. The only useful name was Rookwood. The scene dissolved into smoke, and reformed later at a different trial, with a very different air; instead of gloom and focus, this time the chamber was full of gossip and conversation, and Rita Skeeter was in attendance.
She turned to the Dumbledore of her time. "This isn't a trial like the last one." He chuckled, but gestured for her to pay attention.
To her immense disbelief, Ludo Bagman strolled into the room and sat down, though he was not bound as Karkaroff had been; this Bagman was in the prime of his career, instead of retired and gone to seed like the one she knew. Crouch read the charges, and it was clear that most of the witches and wizards in the room thought it was all poppycock, as many were openly supportive of Bagman's attempts to defend himself by claiming he had spoken to Rookwood.
She was hardly surprised when the only hand that rose in favor of Bagman's conviction was Crouch's. One of the jurors even congratulated Bagman for a recent victory before he was allowed to leave a free man. Crouch muttered something about it being a sad day at the Ministry when Bagman got a job there, before the scene dissolved once more.
This time the mood was somber and quiet, utter silence save for the sobbing of a frail, tiny wisp of a woman seated next to Crouch, who was already starting to age into the man she knew. The trial began with four people being dragged into the chambers and forced into the four chairs waiting for them.
Even though no one could hear them, Hazel felt compelled to whisper. "I know those people! Well, two of them anyway." One was Bellatrix Lestrange, her hair thick and shiny and black, her expression haughty and regal even as she stood in judgment. Next to her was a man hardly out of his teens, with straw-colored hair and an air of desperation; that was young Barty Junior. She didn't recognize the other two men, but she knew they were the Lestrange brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan.
The trial was very brief, mostly dominated by Crouch Senior shouting and Crouch Junior pleading with his mother for mercy; she only sobbed harder with every word from her son's mouth. The Lestranges sat in haughty silence, indifferent to the sentence about to be put down upon them.
Hazel promised herself she would remember those faces. If they ever got out of Azkaban, she'd take Neville and avenge his parents.
In the end the verdict was unanimous, but the younger Crouch wouldn't stop pleading even as he was being led away. Bellatrix went with her head held high, and Hazel reflected on how she was more sympathetic to her than to the boy behind her, and wondered what that said about herself.
"That is all." The scene splintered into smoke once more as they rose out of the Pensieve.
Notes:This chapter was very close to the one in canon, so I montaged past most of the bits from the book. Feel free to peruse said book if you want to refresh your memory of the specifics.
Chapter 57: Rune Carving, Part ISummary:Hazel finally gets to work on her wand some more.
Chapter TextWhen she was back in her body, Hazel blinked and shook her head. "I can see why you were reviewing those memories, sir. Thank you for showing them to me, too."
"Of course." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Do you have any questions?"
"Yes sir, did the investigation into Crouch Manor reveal anything?"
It was Snape who replied. "There was considerable evidence of dark magic, and of multiple inhabitants living in squalor. But the Aurors could not find anyone or anything to connect directly back to the Dark Lord or his followers."
That was discouraging, but she didn't let it get her down. "Have you made any progress regarding the locket?"
"We have." Dumbledore raised his wand and summoned the locket out of another drawer. "Severus and myself have identified it as a Horcrux. We suspect the ruins of the Gaunt residence in Little Hangleton may conceal another such object, simply based on the residue of darkness surrounding the place, but without your presence to deactivate any wards we did not consider the risks of breaking in worthwhile."
Horcrux. That sounded very dark, and she decided to investigate the library to learn more about them. Perhaps recognizing the look in her eye, Dumbledore raised a hand. "You will not find any information on Horcruxes in the Hogwarts library, Hazel, not even in the Restricted Section. I personally saw to it that any books giving more than a vague reference were removed decades ago; it would not behoove anyone to follow in the steps of Tom Riddle, after all."
"So what are they then, sir?"
"A Horcrux is a receptacle for a piece of one's soul. To create one, one must murder another being, which shreds the soul, and then perform a ritual to bind that piece of soul to an object of one's choosing."
Hazel repressed a shudder. Even to her, that sounded awful. "That sounds horrifying. What could you possibly gain from doing such a thing?"
"Quite simply? Immortality. While your soul is bound in such a manner, you cannot die. This was how Voldemort survived the rebounding curse that left you your scar."
"And how did I survive it, then?"
The two men made eye contact, and then Dumbledore shook his head. "We suspect it might have something to do with the manner in which your mother died, but we cannot be certain. It would be irresponsible in the extreme to speculate on such matters."
"So you've said." She looked away, scowling bitterly.
Snape put a hand on her shoulder; his voice was a murmur. "Remember what I told you, Miss Potter. I cannot speak for the Headmaster, but I would only withhold information from you for very good reasons. In this case, it is simply that we have no information to give beyond what we have already disclosed."
"Alright, I get it." Surely the Black library would have what she sought, or even the Malfoy library if she could access it. Assuming Dumbledore didn't instruct Sirius to cut her off. "So Voldemort made at least three Horcruxes? Is there any way of learning exactly how many he made?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Our best chance is to track down his old teachers and learn if he ever spoke of Horcruxes with any of them. That is not something we have time for, unfortunately."
"Well, assuming none of them are stuck in any more priceless heirlooms, destroying them shouldn't be too hard, right?"
"I would not rely on either of those assumptions, Hazel. Voldemort has always been paranoid and vain in equal measure. I consider it quite likely he has acquired relics of the past and placed powerful enchantments on them, to ensure both that we would hesitate at their destruction and that the destruction itself would be as difficult as possible."
She huffed a sigh. "If we still had those Horcrux books we could learn these things, Professor. Not just how to create them, but how many are safe to create before unforeseen consequences become likely, or the enchantments one could place on them and ways to counter those enchantments. Or, hell, maybe Riddle wrote in the margins and we could learn from those!"
Dumbledore smiled gently. "I did not say they were gone, I said you would not find them in the Hogwarts library. I do not wish to formally forbid you from seeking out further information, Hazel, not least because I suspect such a prohibition would do little to dissuade you if your mind is truly set. I would instead entreat you to focus on the Tournament for now, and on your studies. Let Severus and I worry about the Horcruxes for now."
She huffed a sigh and tried not to roll her eyes. "Yes sir. So how are we going to stop Voldemort's plans now?"
He was clearly glad of the change in subject. "We will keep an eye out for Wormtail, and for the other two conspirators. As I said before, your Map will be invaluable in this endeavor, and I would like you to check it as often as you safely can."
Snape rolled his eyes. "Fudge's refusal to see sense is growing ever more tiresome, as well. Of course, he is not the type to move unless in response to some outcry or other."
"The sort of outcry a sensational article in the paper might drum up?"
Dumbledore's voice was dry as he replied. "I assume you refer to your association with Ms Skeeter? It must be true what they say about desperate times."
"She was nervous about publishing anything related to Voldemort before, saying the Prophet wouldn't allow it to go to print. Should I try and convince her otherwise?"
"Perhaps if she had an article or two in the wings. In case Fudge proves especially intractable."
"I'm gonna tell her everything then, in that case. And let her use her best judgment if it comes time to publish."
Both men simply shrugged uneasily, and she took that as her cue to leave. "Good evening, Professors." She bowed and left the room, heading back down to the Slytherin dungeons.
Along the way, though, she ducked into a bathroom and rubbed her ring. "Dobby?"
The elf appeared with a pop and a grin. "Yes, Mistress Hazel?"
"I need you to search the Black library for any books related to Horcruxes. Don't let anyone else know, especially Master Sirius. If you find any, bring them to me in my dorm after midnight."
"Of course, Mistress Hazel! What is these Horcruxes, if Dobby can ask?"
"It's better if you don't know. It's horribly dark magic though, and I need them so I can understand Voldemort and how to fight him. Can you do this for me, Dobby?"
The sound of that dreadful name made him squeak in fear, but he recovered quickly. "Dobby will do his best! It might be a few nights, but Dobby will try his best!"
"Good." She patted his head, he disappeared with a snap, and she kept going to the dungeons, where she did homework for the rest of the evening. She wanted to focus on the important things, but her mind was elsewhere, specifically on whether or not Ollivander was inspecting her false wands yet. Ooh, she did so want to start carving her real wand!
Millicent sat down and knocked her on the shoulder. "Are you obsessing over your wand again? It's only a tool, you know."
"A tool that lets me do amazing things. If I pull this off I can do even more amazing things! Or at least, do the amazing things more powerfully!" She pulled it out and decided to polish it a little.
Pansy peered at the decorated wand. "What did you say it was made of? Elm? Awfully fancy for elm."
"Well… it's not elm, okay? It's made of elder, and phoenix feather." Just like always, everyone in earshot turned to ogle her wand when that word came out of her mouth. "Oh, get over yourselves!"
Daphne was the first to recover, nonchalantly going back to her assignments. "I can see why you'd keep it to yourself. You wouldn't want every dunderhead in hearing range falling all over themselves more than they already do."
"Right, you get it." Hazel finished polishing her wand and put it away again, and tried to focus on her assignments once more. "Professor Babbling sent some of my rune practice to Mr Ollivander, to see if I'm good enough to start carving wands now. That should be exciting."
"Do you know what runes you'll carve?" Draco sounded curious.
"I've been practicing the Ehwaz and Algiz runes. Ehwaz to strengthen the connection and loyalty between my wand and I, and Algiz for protection and safety. I've also been practicing the Sowilo rune."
Theo's eyes flicked up to her scar. "That's the one that looks like a bolt of lightning, right? Bit on the nose, don't you think?"
His tone was irritating to her, and she snapped at him a bit. "Yeah yeah, I know it was a Nazi thing, but we can't let a bunch of dead fascists tell us what we can or can't do. It's also the wand movement for the Killing Curse, but I won't let that stop me either!"
"It does mean fire, I know that. Which is fitting, since your wand does have a fiery kind of look." He hesitated, then shrugged. "Whatever, it's not my wand. But I wouldn't put those kinds of symbols on my wand, is all I'm saying."
"No one asked you." She flipped him off and focused on her homework for the rest of the evening, then went to her dorm for her nightly routine.
The next day they had their first Defense class with Professor Sinistra, and it was obvious that this wasn't her favored specialty; she basically taught off of Moody and Crouch's notes, and while her stern demeanor wasn't much different from the grouchy instruction they had gotten used to that year, there was still something missing that Crouch had brought to the class.
Hazel was thoughtful on the way out later. "Weird to think that a literal Death Eater can teach Defense Against the Dark Arts better than anyone else."
Ron snickered meanly. "I think it's weird seeing Sinistra in broad daylight. She doesn't get out during the day much, does she?"
"What difference does that make?" Hermione cut in, glowering at the oblivious redhead.
Hazel rolled her eyes and moved on while Ron and Hermione fell into bickering; she had no wish to get pulled into more Gryffindor nonsense.
With the Easter holidays coming up fast, everyone was handing out homework like it was going out of style. Hazel was glad she had been forced to drop a few classes; if she had been allowed to persist she would have fallen into the same rut that had claimed her last year.
Sadly, the weekend would not bring the respite it usually did, which she realized when a third-year girl handed her a note at breakfast. "What's this?"
The girl shrugged and pushed it at her again. "I dunno, Babbling gave me it, said it's for you."
Hazel sighed and accepted it, and the girl went back to her spot. "Wonder what the old lady wants." She opened and read it, and her eyes went wide. "Oh shit, Ollivander's coming here?"
Pansy looked over at the swearing. "What, about your runes? He must have been impressed to come all the way up here in person."
"And I'm to meet with him and Babbling in an hour." Hazel put the note away and dug into her breakfast, planning to eat and then clean up before heading to Babbling's office. Fortunately nothing else happened, and she showed up on time outside the office. It opened at her knock, and she went inside.
Babbling's office was clean and tidy, with windows open wide to the bracing spring air and framed diagrams of various runes placed along the walls. A small fireplace held a merry little blaze, and the Professor herself was seated behind a large desk covered in papers and periodicals. A spindly old man was seated before that desk, and he wore thick winter robes and a dusty gray scarf wrapped tightly about his neck.
She walked in, bowing politely. "Professor Babbling, Mr Ollivander. I presume this is about my request?"
The old man sounded as frail and wispy as ever. "Indeed, young Potter, indeed. I was very impressed when I saw your practice wands, especially considering you only have two years of practice to your name. And to alter an already powerful wand?"
The professor cleared her throat and pointed at one of the open seats. "Would you care to explain the runes you wish to carve, Miss Potter?"
"Certainly." Hazel sat down and cleared her throat. "The Ehwaz rune, obviously, with intentions of loyalty and commitment; elder wands are rather fickle, and my hope is the runes will counteract this."
Ollivander nodded. "A common addition for such wands. A drop or so of your blood in each rune would crystallize your intentions rather well, I would add."
"I'll keep that in mind, sir." She hadn't planned on practicing blood magic today, but whatever. "Next is the Algiz rune, which I will carve with protective intentions so I can better protect myself and my friends."
"For that, I would fill in the runes with slivers of oak, which I so happened to have brought with me. Like before, a drop of your blood will seal the slivers in as if they were always part of the wand."
"Is blood always used in high-level rune work, Professor Babbling?"
"Not always, but blood magic is the easiest way to attain permanent effects. And the final rune?"
"Yes, the um. The Sowilo rune."
Both of them glanced up to her scar as she said this, and she looked away, fighting off irritation. "I know, dammit, I know."
"We are not judging you, Potter. However, the sun rune is a symbol with many unfortunate implications in today's world. It will be impossible to avoid all of them."
Hazel decided to quote Babbling directly. "Well, it has several protective meanings, so one can imbue it with defensive forces, but it also has energetic properties as well. Sowilo encompasses all that is good for a warlock or warrior: dedication, perseverance, honor and morality. It is also a symbol of success and victory, and warlocks of old would carve their wands with this symbol to attract these qualities to their spellwork and dueling."
Ollivander looked at her with a grave expression. "You are a student of history, Miss Potter, surely you are also aware of its association with Nazi Germany. Not to mention its connection to the Killing Curse, though not many would be aware of that."
Hazel had to fight not to roll her eyes. "I know that, sir, I also know Sowilo is a rune of power, and that I can reclaim the positive meanings again if I try hard enough."
"Of course, my dear, but I urge you to consider the future. When this Tournament business is concluded, when the Dark Lord is done away with and we are at peace once more. We pay more attention to wands than you might think, would it behoove you then to have such warlike symbology permanently carved into your wand?"
That was a good point, and Hazel thought it over for a moment. But she shrugged it off in the end. "If it becomes an issue I could simply get a new wand. For now, though, I need every possible advantage. I will not change my mind."
The two adults shared a look, then collectively shrugged. "If you are truly determined, then it is not my place to stand in your way. For your purposes you will want to inscribe four Sowilo runes into the wand, and fill them with small amounts of molten gold."
"Mixed with my blood?"
"Indeed. Now, there are certain preparations Bathsheda and I must perform to ensure an optimal environment for your carving. I suggest you get some last minute practice in while you still can."
"Use these, Miss Potter." The professor handed her several more blank wands, very similar to her own in size and heft. "Your carving implements are at your table, in the classroom."
"Thank you both." She stood, accepted the wands and bowed, and went into the Runes class, where she busied herself with etching her chosen runes into the blank wands. These had similar enchantments to the green quills the professor had them use for homework, in that if she got a rune wrong the entire thing was wasted and she had to start over.
Chapter 58: Rune Carving, Part IISummary:Hazel's wand is complete!
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextLuckily she only messed up once, and she was glad that she could use Occlumency to keep her hands from shaking. She had completed three wands with the runic patterns she planned for her own wand when footsteps came from the front of the class; she looked up to see Ollivander clearing his throat.
"We are ready for you, Miss Potter." His voice was courteous, and he was holding the door for her.
"Thank you sir." She put the practice wands to one side and crossed the room. The workroom beyond the door was closed off, with no windows and only the one door, though she thought she saw a number of vents along the ceiling. The center of the room was taken up by a sturdy wooden table, sanded and polished so many times she could no longer discern what species of wood it had been carved from.
Babbling beckoned her forward, handing her a tiny obsidian scalpel and an even tinier crystal vial. "Prick your wrist and fill this vial with your blood, Miss Potter." Hazel took both items, piercing her wrist and allowing blood to flow into the vial. "That's enough." The professor took the vial back, capped it and purified the scalpel with a flick of her own wand.
"Professor, these runes are all Futhark, right? Will the usual bastardized Latin spells have the same effect?"
She seemed pleased at her deduction. "Indeed not, ten points to Slytherin. You'll want to say the incantations in Icelandic to purify and empower your blood first, then when the runes are carved you'll apply the ingredients and seal them in, one by one. The first spell is Hreinsa Blóðið."
"Hreinsa Blóðið." She pointed her wand at the crystal vial while saying the words. There was a flash of light.
"Good. Now, to empower the blood, say, Styrkja Blóðið."
"Styrkja Blóðið." The blood in the vial flashed purple before settling into a brighter shade of red.
"Good. Set it aside and place your wand on the table."
Hazel did as instructed, putting the vial of bright red blood aside and drawing her wand from its sheath to place it before them. "Carve the Ehwaz runes with your normal carving tools, but use these for the Algiz runes, and these for the Sowilo runes." She pointed out a set of tools made of a hard, dense wood, and another set made of gold and platinum.
"Yes, Professor." She took a deep breath, conscious of Ollivander and Babbling watching her, and focused on Occlumency to get her body under control. Then she picked up the first set of tools and started carving, faintly conscious of the swirls and eddies of magic around herself and her wand as she worked.
It took a while, because she went slowly and relied on muscle memory not to mess it up. But eventually she sighed, put the hammer and chisel down, and came out of her trance. "What time is it?" She winced at how bleary she sounded.
"Nearly lunchtime, Miss Potter. Let us head down and get some food, and we'll resume afterward. Leave your wand behind as well, it is in a delicate state at the moment."
The thought of being without her wand made her nervous, but she shrugged it off. "I hope they have coffee." She got up and went down to the Great Hall, thinking how weird it was to go down instead of up. They did indeed have coffee, and she dressed it up and downed a whole mug before starting in on her sandwiches.
Tracey looked up as she approached. "Where've you been all morning?"
"Carving runes into my wand. Weren't you paying attention at breakfast?"
Pansy giggled. "She's only been on about it every night for the past six months."
Tracey was confused. "I could swear we didn't get into runic infusions until NEWT level."
"Yeah, well, there were extenuating circumstances. Like this fucking Tournament, for one."
"And what else?"
Had she mentioned Voldemort was trying to come back to life? She had, hadn't she? Ugh, she couldn't remember. No use starting a panic. "Nothing worth discussing right now. Hm, needs more hot sauce."
Pansy's eyes went wide. "You don't get to kiss me tonight if you put that much on there. My mouth was on fire for hours last time that happened!"
"I don't recall you complaining at the time. Also, was that all that was on fire?" Pansy went red and turned away, and she laughed.
Eventually she finished eating and stood. "Draco, walk me back to Babbling's office?"
"Huh? What do you need my help for?"
She bent down so she could whisper. "I left my wand up there, and I'd rather not risk the Hufflepuffs being in a mood."
"Oh, yeah, good idea." He put his food aside and got up as well, following her out of the Hall.
Fortunately nothing happened on the way upstairs, and she let Draco go and leaned against the wall to wait for Babbling and Ollivander to return. She was only waiting a few minutes, and pushed off the wall when she heard familiar voices.
Babbling saw her and smiled. "Eager to finish up, Miss Potter?"
"Eager to get my wand back, more like."
Ollivander chuckled. "Even the brightest witches have to make sacrifices at times. Let us not delay any longer."
They all went into the workroom, where Hazel's wand still lay on the table. "So, the Ehwaz runes take some of my blood, the Algiz runes are filled with oak slivers and melded to the rest of the wand with my blood as a sealant, and the Sowilo runes are filled in with molten gold mixed with my blood?"
"Correct, Miss Potter. Proceed at your leisure." Babbling cast a spell on the stone bowl to remelt the gold held within as she spoke.
She reapplied the cleansing and empowering spells to the crystal vial of her blood, then carefully poured a single drop into each Ehwaz symbol, four in all going around the wand. "Innsigla blóðið." It felt strange to see her magic bending in on itself and affecting the vessel, but there was no other way to cast the spell.
Next, she filled in the four Algiz runes with the slivers of oak, poured more blood over each one, and said the incantation again, watching as the blood and oak fused to the elder, becoming faint raised lines like old scars. "That's so cool." She couldn't help but admire her work for a moment before reaching for the bowl of molten gold.
She poured the last of her blood over it, and stirred it in with a titanium stirring rod. Then, moving very carefully, she poured the gold-blood mixture into each of the four Sowilo runes, making sure not to add a single iota extra. Then she cast the sealing spell for the last time, and the gold rapidly cooled, again fusing to the elder and gleaming.
Her wand felt warm in her hand now, thrumming with innate power. But it was the warmth of a fire about to rage out of control, or of a stovetop turned too high; a dangerous warmth that put a wide grin on her face and set a similar warmth in her chest alight. She knew instinctively, however, that she was in control here, and couldn't help but wonder at how she knew this.
"And there you have it. Try casting a spell, and watch the runes carefully while doing so."
"Yes sir." She crossed to the doorway and faced the classroom, clearing her throat, imagining how she felt the night Crouch was finally captured. "Expecto Patronum!"
The massive silver basilisk erupted from the tip, brighter and more powerful than before. Sure enough, the twelve runes were all glowing brightly as the magic coursed through the wand! The Ehwaz runes were bright blood red, the Algiz were a deep royal purple, and the Sowilo symbols were pure, glittering gold.
"Congratulations, Miss Potter! By all rights you've just earned a NEWT in Ancient Runes, but I doubt you could precisely explain how and why those runes work together how they do, or what exactly the relationship between the materials is?"
"Not really, Professor, no. Magic isn't just doing, after all, it's knowing." Grinning sheepishly, she dismissed her giant silver guardian and stowed her wand in its holster once again.
"Precisely. You would do quite well in the study of wand lore, Miss Potter, you seem to have an innate grasp of the fundamentals already."
"Thank you sir." She bowed to the both of them and left the room, eager to get back to her friends and show them her work.
Her wand felt brand new, more responsive to her than ever, and eager to unleash hell. She even dueled Professor Burbage to a standstill during dueling club the next day, and the look on her face made her wonder if she had been holding back or not. "You've clearly improved, Miss Potter. Shall we see just how far you've come?"
"Bring it on!" Hazel grinned and brought her wand up again. She couldn't wait to tell Sirius!
That evening she wrote two letters, one to Sirius and Remus telling them about the new alterations to her wand, and one to Rita Skeeter telling her everything. Her night visions, her meetings with Snape and Dumbledore, what really happened with the Tasks and the Tournament. It took her hours to finish that second letter, and to her disappointment Hedwig was gone when she went up to the Owlery to send them out.
Fortunately Draco's eagle owl was there, and she coaxed it down with some bacon rinds. "Fierce little thing. Take this one to Sirius Black, and this one to Rita Skeeter, alright?" The owl hooted sternly and took off out the window. It was past curfew, but the Marauder's Map told her Cedric was patrolling nearby, so she wandered out as he was coming by. "Oh, hey Cedric."
"Hazel? What are you doing out so late?"
"Ah, just sending some letters, lost track of time. Sorry~"
He just shook his head. "I'll walk you back to your common room, then. I won't take any points this time since curfew just hit, but next time I won't be so lenient, got that?"
"Got it." The walk back to the dungeons was uneventful, except for Filch and Mrs Norris snooping around.
"Students out late! It's detention fer both of you!"
Cedric turned so his Head Boy badge gleamed in the lantern light. "Lay off, Filch, I've already sorted her out. Now go about your business." The old man muttered under his breath but kept going, and they reached the dungeon in short order. "I hope I won't catch you again tonight, Hazel."
"You won't." She shook his hand before turning to the wall. "Asphodel." She found her friends in the common room and sat down with them. "I had to borrow your eagle owl, Draco, Hedwig was out hunting or something."
"What, the school owls aren't good enough?"
"Nope. They're old and slow, I want my letters to arrive on time."
"Fair enough. Do you have plans for the Easter holiday?"
"Yeah, I- wait, you call it Easter?"
He shrugged. "Sure, it's close enough to the old name that we go with it anyway. Also, Beltane and Walpurgisnacht aren't until May."
Hazel frowned. "So how come we only celebrate Samhain and Yule?"
Blaise shrugged. "They're convenient? We're only schoolkids anyway, our parents are the ones who care."
"Huh. Well anyway, I didn't have plans for Easter, no. Figured I'd hang out around the castle, maybe go check on Regina. Or, hell, I might go see Crouch."
Tracey shivered. "I heard he's seriously off his rocker down there. Ranting about you, and about the Dark Lord…"
"Let him rant. I need to know what he had planned for the third Task, which is gonna be some kind of maze. Like, was he gonna wait in the center and kill me? Or plant a Portkey somewhere I'd find it and lure me away so Voldemort can do it himself?"
Daphne laughed. "Ten sickles says he was planning to turn the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey." Hazel laughed too, then decided it might not be a bad idea to study Portkey cancellation charms, if any existed. Something to ask Professor Flitwick about!
Pansy was staring at another letter, and she had a furious expression on her face. Hazel noticed, and went to sit down by her and put an arm around her shoulder. "Is it your dad again?"
She just nodded and leaned into Hazel's touch. "He says I'm expected at home over the holidays. He isn't giving me a choice, either. I don't want to go…"
Hazel rubbed her back comfortingly. "Then don't. Ask Snape to send a reply saying you're falling behind in one of your classes and have to attend remedial tutoring over the break."
"That would just make my father even angrier. But let's go see him anyway, he might have an idea." She stood up, and holding Hazel's hand led the way to Snape's office.
Notes:I hope you all had a wonderful and fulfilling Christmas, or at least a nice day off if you don't celebrate.
Chapter 59: InterrogationSummary:Regina gets to come out and play.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextThe Easter holidays came around eventually, and Snape had followed through by informing Lord Parkinson that Pansy was assisting him with "sensitive research" that only a young lady of her pedigree and heritage could truly appreciate. Of course, Pansy was then roped into an actual research project on ancient potions and potion-making, but at least she was out from beneath her father's thumb for a while.
Maybe Hazel could threaten the old man with a visit from Regina if he didn't leave Pansy to her own devices over the summer? No, if he was a Lord it wouldn't go over well, plus it would only call attention to the fact that Hogwarts had a basilisk underneath it. "Tame basilisk."
Her first stop was the kitchens, where she accepted an early lunch of roast beef sandwiches and sat down with Moxy as usual. "So, is Regina awake?"
"Big greenie is awake, Miss Hazel! Moxy is being very nervous about going down there, but big greenie is always being polite and waiting for Moxy to be leaving!"
"Good, good. Have you fed her yet today? I'd like to head down and see her."
"Moxy is happy to go with Miss Hazel! But Moxy is still not liking to linger in the Chamber of Secrets."
"You don't have to." She finished eating and stood up. "So, do you get the food ready and then head down and bring it in after you arrive, or?"
"Other elves is making it for us this time, Miss Hazel. Moxy is following!"
She shrugged and left the kitchen, though she first went to her dorm to grab her broom before heading for the bathroom where the entrance was hidden. "Open. Climb on, Moxy."
"Moxy will apparate, is not liking the heights and the flyings and things! Moxy will see Miss Hazel at the bottom!"
"Fair enough." She mounted her broom and flew down the tunnels, remembering the way easily enough. She sped through the tunnels and into the chamber, where Moxy was waiting for her with the crates of food for Regina.
"Regina? Regina, are you here?"
From the depths of the chamber came a heavy slithering, and the vast green form of the basilisk appeared. "Master! You honor me with your visit!"
"Eat first." She gestured at the crates of fruit and meat, and the terrified house-elf covered her eyes. Regina crooned and nosed at the food, happily chomping away. While she ate, Hazel examined her; she seemed larger and healthier than before, that was for sure. Doubtless it was due to the good food and regular exercise she was getting.
Eventually Moxy disappeared, and Hazel cleared her throat. "Regina, have you ever heard of the Triwizard Tournament?"
"I have. It began in the 13th century, many years after I was born and invested with purpose. I remember Hogwarts losing as often as not, and the Headmaster would always grumble about pulling the school out, but they never did."
"You can be active even without an Heir to awaken you?"
"Of course. Did you think I slept for hundreds of years at a time? I awaken now and then to feed, and to patrol the school, and things seemed safe enough. It was only when the false master ordered me awake fifty-two years ago that I attacked people, and again two years ago."
"Well, the false master is trying to come back again. He has a plan to resurrect himself, he exists as a homunculus somewhere in England. We had a lead for a while, but it went cold, and- wait."
She went silent as an idea occurred to her. She couldn't threaten Lord Parkinson with the basilisk, but she sure could threaten Barty Crouch Junior with her!
"Regina, you can get around the school without being noticed, right? Can you reach the cells below the dungeons some time tonight? There's a prisoner that you might be able to help us interrogate."
"I am yours to command, Master."
She was down there a few hours more, listening to Regina speak about her first master, and about his daughter Selima; the spells they used, how they dealt with their enemies. Regina delighted to see Hazel cast the spells with her enhanced wand, and was fascinated by the runes she had chosen to carve.
Later, on her way back to the dungeons, she ran into Snape and bowed. "Good afternoon, Professor."
"Potter." He nodded back. "Dare I ask how you are occupying yourself?"
"I was down to visit Regina. Now I'm gonna go threaten Barty Jr with her to see if he'll spill any other secrets!"
"A worthy endeavor, certainly. Do you wish for supervision?"
She shrugged. "If you've got nothing better to do. It would save me from wandering around the depths of the castle and getting lost."
They went down into the depths of the castle, beneath the basements, cellars and dungeons, to the ancient holding cells. Filch was down there at the moment, supervising a house-elf who was feeding and bathing the prisoner. Snape put out a hand to stop her from getting closer. "Hold a moment. Let them finish."
It didn't take long, and soon the elf was gone and Filch was hobbling back up the stairs. He glowered at Hazel, but with Snape standing there he could do nothing, and soon they had the cells to themselves.
She grabbed a chair and sat down just outside the bars, smirking confidently. "Good afternoon, Barty."
He glared up at her from beneath his brows. "Come to gloat, Potter?"
"No, I've come to ask you some more questions. If you don't answer I'm gonna introduce you to Regina."
Barty scoffed, but the sound of scales on stone cut off his attitude pretty quickly. "Is that-?"
"The basilisk? The Serpent of Slytherin? The beast your master corrupted fifty years ago to terrorize the school? It is. And now she's mine." Regina slithered into view, eyes closed, tongue flicking against the air; Barty flinched and turned away, but Hazel just crooned and stroked her head.
Out the corner of her eye, she saw Snape standing quite still, eyes staring straight ahead. No doubt he was focusing on Occlumency as hard as possible.
"I've told you everything I know, you're wasting your time."
"I don't recall you saying anything about what the plan for the third Task was."
Barty eyed the basilisk in fear, then sighed and gave up. "Portkey. Triwizard Cup is a Portkey, supposedly to bring the Champion back to the start of the maze. Instead I was supposed to make sure you made it to the center, and rig the Cup so it took you to some Muggle graveyard in Little Hangleton."
Where the Gaunts used to live, she knew. "And what's supposed to happen at the graveyard?"
"I-I don't know."
Snape peered at him with wand in hand, then nodded. "He speaks the truth. Or at least, the truth as he knows it."
"Fine. Is there anything else we should know?"
"I've told you everything, I swear." He looked up with a pleading gaze. "What about my father? Is he still feigning illness?"
"That's no business of yours. Come on, Professor, we're done here." Regina slithered away in the darkness, and the two of them retraced their steps upstairs.
"Hey! He's my father, it IS my business! HEY!"
A few floors up, Hazel gave Snape a curious look. "What did happen with the old man, anyway?"
"Crouch Senior has returned home to rest and heal, under guard of course. He is responding well to treatment and is expected to recover and return to his duties before the end of May."
"That's good. What are we going to do about the Triwizard Cup?"
"I will inform the Headmaster of what we have learned today, though I may leave out exactly how we attained this intelligence. It is too late to change the nature of the Task, but we can post extra security during the event, and ensure everything goes according to plan."
A while later, Hazel let out a sigh. "It's too late to stop him, isn't it?"
"Stop whom, Miss Potter?"
She gave him a dirty look. "Voldemort, who else? I've been saying all year he's got plans in motion, and you guys kept blowing me off, saying you'll handle it. Well, here we are, and it doesn't seem very fucking handled!"
"Twenty points from Slytherin. How many times must I explain this? We cannot appear weak before our international visitors, and openly obsessing over some dark wizard everyone believes is dead will be perceived as weakness."
"You sound like Dumbledore." She had a grim feeling in her guts that, regardless of what Snape claimed, Voldemort's plans were going to come off without a hitch, unless she found a way to put a hitch in them!
At dinner she got a letter from Gringotts, which indicated they had completed their investigation of her heritage and would be awaiting her presence at eleven AM the next morning, at the Hog's Head Inn like before. "More forewarning than I had before, I guess." She rolled her eyes and went to see Snape. "Sir, I heard from Gringotts again, they want to see me in Hogsmeade tomorrow morning. Can you escort me?"
"So long as you refrain from using foul language."
"I'll try, sir." It was a struggle to keep from rolling her eyes until she faced away from Snape; she really doubted anything would ever clean her mouth out, not after all the points she'd lost because of it.
She spent the evening working through the holiday assignments, and went to bed after her usual routine. Pansy joined her in the shower, still acting all put-upon about it even after all this time.
In the morning she got dressed and had breakfast, and joined the study group until it was time to head to Hogsmeade. "Don't start dueling without me, guys."
Draco gave her a concerned look, but shrugged it off. "No promises."
She met Snape at the doors and they walked out, enjoying the rare spring sunshine gleaming down on them. "Perfect Quidditch weather."
"Mm. Were it any other year you would be leading your team in practicing hard, would you not?"
"Of course I- wait, my team?"
He made an impatient gesture. "Do not pretend there would be any other option for team captain without Flint in the picture. Perhaps the young Mr Malfoy, but he lacks your charisma."
"That reminds me, they were giving me crap for being a shoo-in for prefect a while back. I told them there was no way I'd make the cut."
"You presume to know the minds of the staff?"
"Wh- I mean, there's no way I'd make prefect! After everything I've done, and all."
"And what specifically have you done that bars you from being considered for the duties of prefect?"
"Besides my incurable swearing habit? And my habit of disrespecting people who haven't earned respect? And my habit of practicing the Unforgivable Curses at every opportunity?"
He fixed her with a mild glare. "Are you deliberately discounting your habit of taking charge in adverse situations? Not to mention your academic record and your social standing, of course."
"Look, next year is OWLs, and I fully intend on getting a full schedule again, so I won't have time for that stuff!"
"Then you will simply have to learn better time management skills. Your friends are not wrong, after all; of everyone in your year, only yourself and Mister Malfoy possess the prerequisites that I seek in Slytherin prefects."
"What does social standing have to do with anything, anyway?"
"This is Slytherin, Miss Potter, social standing is everything. I am half certain I would have a revolt on my hands if I didn't at least try and make you a prefect."
"Ugh!" She rolled her eyes again. "Whatever, let's keep going."
Notes:Happy New Year, everyone!
Chapter 60: InheritancesSummary:Hazel learns how she came to have Gaunt heritage, and of her connection to Voldemort.
Notes:Take heed that this chapter contains discussion and reference to historical rape and cover-up of same.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextThe Hog's Head Inn hadn't changed a bit, Hazel was certain the grime in the windows hadn't grown any thicker since her last visit. Like before, the sign said closed, but they went inside and found Griphook and Gnashfang waiting for them.
Griphook nodded as they approached. "Heir Potter, Professor Snape. I suggest you sit down, what I have to reveal is not for the faint of heart."
"Alright." She sat down across from them, and Snape flicked his wand to cast a few privacy charms before looming behind her shoulder like before. They waited for Aberforth to bring drinks, then Griphook placed a sheet of parchment on the table.
"The relevant portions are highlighted, Heir Potter."
She picked it up and looked it over; it was a family tree, her family tree. Her father's side was no surprise, an unbroken male line of Potters going back six generations, but her mother's side…
"Morfin Gaunt." She traced the connection with her finger, muttering under her breath. He had apparently had a child with Lynnette Evans, who was a Muggle girl if she was reading these notations correctly. And their child, Edward, was a Squib who had married a Muggle woman named Sonia Evans nee Haddock, and those two had her mother and her aunt.
Looking farther back, she caught a few other names belonging to Squibs, on both the Evans and Potter sides: Norbert Longbottom, Lydia Black, Alfred Malfoy.
"Morfin Gaunt is my great-grandfather. What's so awful about that?"
Gnashfang spoke in a rasp. "What this parchment does not reflect is the nature of the relationships. Morfin kidnapped and raped Lynnette, and modified her memory; she had a Squib child afterward, and her family was forced out of Little Hangleton. They settled in Cokeworth where Edward eventually met your grandmother."
"So where's the connection to Voldemort?"
Griphook produced another family tree, more focused on the Gaunts. Though in their case the tree was more like a bush. The other family, Riddle, was much healthier and more diverse. The final entry: Merope Gaunt, Morfin's sister, had a child with Tom Riddle, and said child had been named Tom Marvolo Riddle. "So Voldemort is my…"
"Third cousin, twice removed. You would be his first cousin, twice removed." It was remarkable how little judgment she could hear in Snape's voice, she thought to herself.
Gnashfang had a sip of his drink. "A significant revelation, as you can see. You understand why we wished to speak of it in person."
It was all vaguely horrifying, and she wondered what the implications could be even as she forced herself to move on. "Voldemort and I are both products of magical coercion and rape, and there isn't even a direct patrilineal line from either of us to Marvolo. So how am I the Gaunt heir and he isn't?"
Griphook cleared his throat. "The Dark Lord died, Heir Potter. And one strict rule of Gaunt inheritance is that death is final, even if it isn't. So regardless of the lack of patrilineal succession, you are the Heir, and he is not."
She glanced up at Snape. "And the Ministry has no say in this?"
"By custom, it is much easier for Gringotts to handle matters of inheritance. All the necessary materials are already on-site, as it were, not to mention any physical inheritances themselves." His attention flicked to the goblins. "You have not yet informed the Ministry of these developments?"
Griphook nodded. "Indeed not. Heir Potter should make that decision for herself."
"I'd rather not let everyone know how closely related to Voldemort I am," she said firmly. "Bad enough to be an Heir of Slytherin. Keep this to yourselves for now, alright? Once he's no longer a threat I'll feel more comfortable going public with it."
"We expected you would decide as much. Rest assured we will carry out your wishes in these matters, Heir Potter."
"Good." Eager to discuss something slightly more cheerful she changed the subject. "Those business decisions we made last year, are they bearing fruit as of yet?"
Gnashfang smirked. "Indeed they are, you can expect a thirty-percent increase in passive income by the beginning of summer. We can leverage your ownership stake in these companies at any time for more direct rewards as well."
"Well, if I ever need a new broom, I'll know what to do." At this rate she wouldn't ever have to do her own shopping, she realized. She could just send orders to the companies she controlled, pay shipping and taxes, and have everything sent to Grimmauld Place. Not bad for a fourteen year old girl! "Was there anything else?"
"Not on our end, no." The two goblins gathered their paperwork and stood up. "Until next time, Heir Potter."
"Indeed." She stood up as well, bowed and turned to leave. Snape dismissed the privacy charms and joined her. Outside, she took a deep breath of fresh air, untainted by goats. "What do you suppose all this means, sir?"
"It would have no more or less meaning than you choose to assign it, Miss Potter. That said, you are wise to keep it close. I would continue to do so if I were you."
"I plan on it, sir." They set off across the village, heading back for the castle. "Do you think Voldemort is aware of this connection?"
"I strongly doubt it. He once believed very strongly in the importance of blood and lineage, and if he had even an inkling that Lily Potter had the blood of Salazar Slytherin in her veins he would have tried much harder to spare or recruit her."
"Would the Dursleys be safe from him too? Since Petunia would have just as much of his blood as Lily did."
Snape thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. "Petunia would be a Squib at best in his eyes, and just another Muggle at worst. In which case, carrying Slytherin's blood would be a target for his wrath, not a shield."
Not a very nice thought, she reckoned. "We should probably do something to keep them safe, then."
"The best thing would be to not let this news escape containment, but failing that I am certain the Headmaster has some contingency in place."
Hazel knew better than to ask, so she kept it to herself as they were approaching the doors. "Thank you for escorting me down to the village today, sir."
"It was no trouble. What are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"Homework, practice, maybe a little flying. Or maybe I'll make a new girlfriend~"
She could swear Snape rolled his eyes, but he was looking away from her at that moment. "You sound like your mother."
"Yeah, I heard from Remus and Sirius that she was pretty shameless back in the day." The thought made her laugh out loud. "How did Remus put it? It didn't matter who or what you were, if she wanted you, she was having you!" Then she had another thought, and her laughter tapered off. "Sir, did she… did you-?"
"No!" The denial was swift and sudden, and she was taken aback by the force of it. "No, we were only ever friends. That was all I ever wanted from her."
"O-Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."
He shook his head and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "No offense taken. Rest assured, Miss Potter, I never looked at your mother that way, or any girl for that matter."
"So do you like men, then?"
"This is not the time or place for such a discussion. Return to your plans, Potter." He gave her a nod and swept away, leaving her feeling confused and dissatisfied.
Then again, the entrance really wasn't the best time or place for a professor to discuss their sexuality with a student, was it? She shook her head, put aside her feelings about what they had learned, and went to lunch, where she found Hermione sitting with the Slytherins. "What's up, are they giving you shit again?"
"No, there's no one over there, all the Weasleys went home for the holidays."
Pansy giggled. "And the rest are too boring to bother talking to, is that it?"
"I wouldn't put it so crassly. But you aren't wrong."
Hazel looked around, wondering what seemed off. "Where are all the Durmstrang students?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Karkaroff's got them all cooped up on that ship of theirs. Something's got him spooked, but no one knows what it could be."
That was a lie, everyone knew it was because of Death Eater things and the recent business with Crouch and his son, but Draco wasn't about to say it out loud.
"So, Granger! Have you and Krum done anything funyet?" Pansy raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"Wh- No? He's seventeen, I'm only fifteen. It'd be weird for us to be shagging."
"Have you snogged yet, then?" Daphne was leaning forward in her seat, an eager expression on her pretty face.
"At the Ball, sure, but other than that he's been a perfect gentleman. I'd like to, but he thinks I should be a bit older before we take things any further."
"I don't blame you, though I wouldn't let that stop me." She turned away with a shrug, looking for better gossip.
Hazel could see them losing interest in the subject, and had to silently applaud. By playing it off as just another schoolgirl crush on the famous Quidditch star, Hermione had deflected their interest in gossiping about her. She lowered her voice and turned back to her lunch. "Well played."
"Whatever are you talking about?" Hermione did the same. "It's true though, I would like to do more with Viktor, but he wants to wait. For now we're perfectly happy helping each other study."
"Good for you." She didn't really want to think about straight sex, to be honest, so she shrugged it off. "You turn sixteen this summer, right? You'll be good to go then."
"September, actually."
Hazel spent the rest of the break with Luna and Pansy, or in the library, or down with Hagrid, reading up on anti-creature jinxes and spells and talking the big gamekeeper into spilling a few tidbits. She had learned that the maze would have a boggart, an acromantula, a sphinx, and one of the few surviving Blast-Ended Skrewts; she could deal with a boggart and an acromantula, and she learned the sphinx would take a riddle to get by so she studied classical riddles too.
As for the Skrewt, well, she didn't tell Hagrid but she didn't see any reason why the Cruciatus Curse wouldn't work on it. She had gotten away with it before, after all.
When school came back she got bored of preparing for the Task and decided she would sit her exams anyway, and started studying for those too. "Draco, lend me your exam revision, would you?"
"What? Why? Aren't you exempt from exams this year?"
"I am, but that's stupid, so lend me your revision already." Bad enough she had to drop three classes, she was dreading the amount of revision she'd have to do over the summer to make up for it.
"It's still April, I don't have any revising yet."
"Of course you don't. 'll check with Hermione then."
Hermione was happy to help her revise for exams, and even made up some quick-study guides to help her catch up on what she missed during the year. Krum was there too, naturally, and they whiled away the afternoons and evenings after classes studying and revising away.
On a Friday night in April, as she was fast asleep in the dorm, a sudden heat in her ring woke her up; she jerked upright and reached for her wand, but a high-pitched whisper cut her off. "It's Dobby! Dobby is having the very dark books Mistress Hazel asked for!"
"Oh! Get on the bed, quickly." She shut the curtains and cast a few privacy charms in a single swish of her wand, then lit the tip. "So?"
"Dobby did not read them, only peeked through for Horcrux words." He placed a stack of three books on the bed. "The one in the middle seems to have the most information. Would have been sooner, but Master Sirius was coming in and saying no bad books for Mistress Hazel!"
"Fucking Dumbledore. Well, you did good, Dobby. Give yourself an extra sickle in your pay this month as a bonus."
"Thank you Mistress. Good night!" Dobby disappeared again, and Hazel studied the books themselves. Magick Moste Evile, Secrets of the Darkest Art, and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Even if just one of them had the specific information she needed, the others would no doubt come in very handy.
She put the books away and settled back for sleep again. As much as she wanted to dip into the Dark Arts right then and there, it was best to do so when well rested.
Notes:Tuesday was awful and I wound up not posting. Sorry about that! I'd post double to make up for it but these next chapters need some revision, so, sorry again!