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CONTROVERSIAL CLAUSE 159 REPEALED!

OWL SYLLABI REVERTED TO ORIGINAL FORMAT, CLAIMS CARROW!

EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER 22 TO REMAIN IN EFFECT!

Harry sat on his chair, idly sipping his orange juice, watching the madness unfurl all across Hogwarts as the effects of his latest stunt took root in wizarding Britain. Six months ago, had someone told him that he’d actually be reading the Daily Prophet enthusiastically, he’d have asked him if he had inhaled one of Neville's potions. Then again, six months ago, he wouldn’t have done what he had just orchestrated. Both Daphne and Fleur had been quite thorough in demonstrating their pleasure at what they called the new and improved Harry Potter.

Still, he knew better than to be overconfident. After all, today was Halloween, or the Let’s-Fuck-With-Harry-Potter day, as he had begun to associate it. It was practically a custom by now, and fitted right in place with Draco Malfoy’s biannual visit in the Express, and the Defence Instructor trying to kill him.

So far the day was off to a good start, but Harry didn’t want to jinx it. He had private classes with McGonagall today, and she had asked him not to miss it by any means. Post that, he had a night session booked with the Workshop. Apparently Halloween, or Samhain, if he was being theologically correct, was a festival of the ‘dead’ and Professor Sinistra wanted to see if the auspicious astrological event had any effect on his Death powers. After that, he had an evening planned with Daphne, perusing through tomes inside the Chamber of Secrets, and in general spending time with his fiance.  All in all, it was going to be a fairly busy day, and hopefully, keep his mind off the relevance of this day in the life of the Boy-Who-Lived. There was also the… big event due later, which honestly, he didn’t want to think about too much.

Downing the contents of his mug, before perusing through the contents.

MUTINY AT HOGWARTS! A CELEBRATION OF HOUSE UNITY OR A SINISTER HAND AT PLAY?

By RITA SKEETER

Yep. He decided. Now everything was alright in the universe. He’d have been terrified if Skeeter of all people didn’t have something negative to say about him.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry has borne witness to something that was last seen over a hundred years ago, when Phineas Nigellus Black, Headmaster of Hogwarts in 1980-81 term, banned Quidditch, resulting in an all-house mutiny against the Headmaster. This reporter was rather shocked to find out that something just as prolific and shocking transpired within the halls of Hogwarts in response to the actions taken by the Defence Against the Dark Arts Instructor, and newly-coined High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, Dolores Jane Umbridge.

From the sudden and precipitous mutiny amongst the students, it can be concluded that there was a growing dissatisfaction among the student audience about Professor Umbridge’s teaching methods, particularly her stressing on the new Ministry-approved syllabus. The students had given the new professor two months of time before her actions sparked this newest revolution.

Or so, it looks like.

But this reporter hasn’t gotten to where she is by merely  looking at cold, hard facts. The key to successful journalism is to identify the words said in subtext, and the insinuations left unsaid. And what I did find out, dear readers, puts an entirely different spin on this story.

“Our classes were going fine for over an entire month,” says Pansy Parkinson, “but then Potter came in, challenging Professor Umbridge, denigrating her work in front of everyone. Draco (Malfoy) voiced his support for the professor, as did I and a few others. Potter used dark magic to defeat us, and walked out. The rest of us were afraid of facing Potter, especially after what happened in the summer.”

[For a quick recap of Harry Potter’s association with the murder of thirteen purebloods, go to Page 3]

This reporter found it especially enlightening that out of the four people who spearheaded this mutiny, three of them — Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones, and Hermione Granger, were close associates of Harry Potter. Miss Greengrass, as dear readers will remember, was in the news for her sudden betrothal to the Boy-Who-Lived. Several students have claimed that they have seen Potter sauntering the corridors with Miss Bones from time to time. Is the Boy-Who-Lived charming young ladies of Ancient Houses to do his bidding? Or are these fine ladies looking forward to scoring with Wizarding Britain’s Number One Bachelor?

Readers will of course remember muggleborn Hermione Granger has been part of the Boy-Who-Lived’s inner circle since her first year, until her recent rejection of the Boy-Who-Lived’s affections in an attempt to woo the international Quidditch superstar Victor Krum.

“Half the students are terrified of him,” claims Marietta Edgecombe. “And the other half are in awe of the deadly magic he used. He summoned a demon in the middle of the class. It was… terrifying. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“(Daphne) Greengrass is acting as his voice in Slytherin House. She’s trying to shift the student support from the Ministry to Potter.,” claims Draco Malfoy. “No doubt Bones and Granger are working for him too. We trusted the Ministry to protect us, and now, we hear that they are taking Clause 159 off. If something happens, who’ll take responsibility?”

“Enjoying it, are we?”

He looked up, and found a freshly bathed Daphne Greengrass sauntering towards him, wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of short pants. Watching him stare, she curled an eyebrow.

“Uh, that’s my shirt, you know.”

A small smirk played on her lips. It did amazing things to them.

“It was comfy, if a bit oversized. Don’t think you’re getting it back.”

Before he could retort, she pushed the paper off him and sat down on his lap, pulling the mug from his hand to take a sip herself. It was like Daphne had made it her mission to break all notions of personal boundaries, and would often sit on his lap, kiss him or initiate displays of affection. Honestly, there were times when Harry thought that the idea of disappointing her father was the only reason she had not done so in public.

“Good morning. I didn’t expect you’d be up this early.”

The two of them had spent a long time in the Chamber of Secrets, with him reciting page after page from the tomes, while Daphne sat beside him, correlating the information and making notes. Only unlike before, she had chosen not to return to the Slytherin dorms, and instead decided to spend the night in his room.  He couldn’t remember exactly who started guiding whom to the bed, but he did recall lying beneath her, and revelling in the delicious sensation of her body pressed against his as they made out. The next thing they knew, they had been there for over two hours before Harry had called it a night and gotten her to transfigure his couch into a bed. Knowing his luck, he’d probably cause the poor thing to explode like a freaking porcupine.

“Ready for the big day?” she asked. “Dad should be arriving soon, with the rest of his team. We ought to get ready before that.”

And that was that. The big event. Joshua was supposed to come to Hogwarts today, accompanied by a team of curse-breakers and extractors. Harry was supposed to take them down to the atrium of the Chamber, where the basilisk carcass lay. Knowing his luck, he’d likely end up adding Professor Dumbledore and half the Hogwarts staff as well.

It was why he had woken up that damn early, and gone through his pro-forma activities, just to keep his mind engaged and away from thinking about what was going to follow soon.

“When are they arriving?”

Daphne cast a quick tempus. “In about three hours.” She grinned at him giddily. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

Harry arched an eyebrow. “What’s the big deal? It isn’t like I’ll be allowing them access to Ananta-Shesha’s lair. I made it a point to seal it before we left last night.”

“Not that,” said Daphne, “Harry, don’t you see it? They’ll be taking out the giant basilisk. Dad’s bringing all kinds of people with him. For all we know, there’ll be some guests too, and reporters. Can you imagine how big this is going to be? Boy-Who-Lived’s victory over Salazar Slytherin’s thousand-year-old basilisk. You’ll have to give interviews about what happened, and talk about the Sword of Gryffindor. And with all the talk of donating close to half of it to Hogwarts, it will be news. Basilisk ingredients are super rare, and from a creature that size? Forget Britain, the world-media will be talking about it for weeks.”

“Good to see that at least one of us is excited about it,” said Harry with a lopsided grin.

“Prat!” Daphne scowled, and began to push herself off him.

Harry snorted, and pulled her back by her waist, happily accepting her glare. He knew how excited she was about this entire thing from the start and now that it was reaching the climax, it was no wonder that she was feeling giddy.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, cupping her face as their faces drew near. “I just… It’s Halloween and I just don’t have a record of anything good happening on this day. That all these people are coming here, and all that, it’s just making me a bit… jittery.”

“Harry,” Daphne said, touching his chin. “Nothing is going to happen. I know you’ll be fantastic, and you’ll impress a lot of people. And after today, the world will know you for a new deed. Harry Potter — Basilisk-slayer,” she finished with a flourish.

Harry rolled his eyes, letting her have her fun. His eyes couldn’t help but crawl back to the front page of the Daily Prophet, at another headline, one that was less a product of his machinations and more of an omen that things might not have changed as much as he wanted.

DOLORES UMBRIDGE TO BEGIN HER ROLE AS HIGH INQUISITOR! HOGWARTS STAFF TO UNDERGO SCRUTINY!

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Much like Daphne had prophesied, it was a big event. Bigger than anything Harry had imagined. Hell, it felt bigger than any of the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament and they were fighting for Eternal Glory between three magical schools. As informed in the previous night’s dinner, every single student had shown up for breakfast, despite it being a Sunday. Harry noticed that the Head table felt a bit longer than usual, though he couldn’t see any new faces amidst them.

Given that it was a Sunday, which translated to a late breakfast, the students were rather shocked to find Albus Dumbledore stand up, accompanied by McGonagall.

“Given the efficiency of the Hogwarts rumour mill, I imagine some of you might already know this,” said Dumbledore after a well-cast Sonorous charm. “Today, Hogwarts is going to host a great many guests to conduct an event of extreme significance, both to our recent past, and our near future. As most of our students will remember, back in the 1992-93 term, there were a series of petrifactions happening all over the school, under the guise of a certain ‘Heir of Slytherin’. Students will also remember that one of our own students, Miss Ginerva Weasley, was taken into the Chamber by this perpetrator, pushing situations to a dire end enough to call for a temporary closure of Hogwarts.  It was only thanks to the valiant actions of Mr. Harry Potter, who with the help of Mr. Ronald Weasley, discovered the mythical Chamber of Secrets. Mr. Potter battled the perpetrator as well as the horror that dwelt within, and returned safely with everyone safe and sound.”

The entire hall had fallen silent. Harry looked at Ginny, and found her looking down at the floor, her fists clenched, with Lavender, Parvati and Hermione sitting next to her, whispering words of support. He looked at the staff table, at the clenched expression on Umbridge’s face, before his attention returned to the Headmaster who had started speaking again.

“In response to a proposal submitted by Mr. Harry Potter and validated by the Hogwarts Board of Governors, today, we are hosting an expedition to the Chamber of Secrets. According to the Magical Beast Slaying Act of 1808, Mr. Potter is under full rights to claim the beast’s carcass and any fortune that might result from it for himself. He will be leading a team of specialists, as well as members of the Board of Governors, the school staff and a few esteemed guests to the Chamber, where the specialists will be harvesting the basilisk carcass, and bringing it out of the Chamber. And while I say that, allow me to welcome our esteemed guests… ”

As he said those words, something shimmered in the air around the staff table, revealing two new figures. The first was a tall wizard with brown hair and hazel eyes, looking like someone in his sixties. The man made a funny little bow, and sat down. The other was a dark-haired gentleman, speckled with shades of grey, with a friendly face and looked to be in his late fifties. He had a thin french beard, and sharp hawk-like eyes, which sparkled with life.

And right away, Harry recognized the man. This was —

“Please give a round of applause for the world-famous magizoologist Newt Scamander, and the great Master Alchemist, and my dear friend and mentor, Nicholas Flamel. Mr. Scamander, being an international magi-zoologist, has been sporting enough to lend his expertise in the harvesting process. You will also be glad to know that Mr. Scamander has sportingly agreed to be a visiting lecturer at Hogwarts for the remainder of this term.”

Harry blinked. Newt Scamander? The one who had written first-hand experience about training a runespoor, and the person Harry had asked Dumbledore to help him establish correspondence with at the start of the term? That Newt Scamander? And he was going to be a visiting lecturer for the rest of the year? Harry didn’t know whether to feel giddy about finally getting to meet the person he was looking forward to, or wonder how to avoid or worse, apologise to Nicholas Flamel for being the stupid sod that ended up destroying his famous Philosopher’s stone.

“My mentor Nicholas Flamel, of course, needs no introductions. There is hardly anyone in our world that does not know the name of the Immortal Alchemist. Nicholas is our biggest purchaser, who has already offered to purchase sixty percent of the carcass for one million and seventy thousand galleons.”

Harry’s breath stopped for a second. His stomach did an odd thing. It didn’t help that the entirety of the student population was looking at him like he had just discovered fire.

A million and seventy thousand galleons.

As in, he was never too excited about the concept of money. For someone that had grown on hands-me-downs, his approach towards money had mostly been limited to saving as much as he could for a rainy day. He had always made it a point to spend as little as he could, knowing that his vault of gold was all he had to last for himself until he got himself a proper job after Hogwarts.

Being adopted by Sirius, and learning to take control of his finances had been a large change in his life. Still, a million galleons? It was so much money that it almost didn’t have a real meaning, which meant something on its own.

“You will be happy to know that Mr. Potter has magnanimously donated forty percent of the total proceedings to the Hogwarts trust. Out of that amount, a sum assured of one thousand galleons shall be offered as compensation to every living individual that had been petrified by the basilisk.”

“WHAT?” asked Hermione, turning to Harry with disbelief mixed with happiness. “Harry, you didn’t have to…”

Harry just smiled.

“A sum of five thousand galleons shall be offered to Miss Ginerva Weasley as compensation for her sufferings, which I’m certain, were severe. A sum of five thousand galleons shall be offered to our gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid, as compensation over being framed guilty for the original ‘Heir of Slytherin’ attacks in 1942. And finally, a sum of five thousand galleons shall be offered to the remaining family of the late Myrtle Warren, original victim of the ‘Heir of Slytherin’ attacks in 1952,” continued Albus Dumbledore. “Given that muggleborns were the main intended victims, an amount of fifty thousand galleons shall be sequestered directly to the Hogwarts muggleborn and halfblood trust —”

At first, there was silence in response to that announcement, but then applause of Dumbledore and the declarations begun from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Houses, quickly followed by Ravenclaw and Slytherin House, who were likely all confused, but in Daphne’s words, eager to curry favour with the rich and utterly dangerous Harry Potter. For his part, Harry just ignored the applause in favour of breakfast. He was indulging himself a little today, doubly so because Daphne had come over to Gryffindor table to eat with him.

“ — and a new hat-stand for the Sorting Hat, and a brand new golden pouch and a lifetime of sunflower seeds for Fawkes, my phoenix, for both of their contributions to the cause.”

This time Harry joined in. Fawkes would definitely be thrilled.

“Just you wait,” Daphne murmured. “Everyone is going to be so sorry they suspected you of entering your name for the Triwizard for a piddling thousand galleons.”

Harry snorted, but said nothing.

Up at the lectern, Dumbledore continued.

“The remaining amount of money, which I’m certain is quite large,” said the man, arousing more chuckles from the audience, “will be donated to the Hogwarts Trust for the maintenance of school expenses for the long term. Mr. Potter has also graciously funded a team of curse-breakers, headed by Mr. William Weasley, to thoroughly inspect the castle, and identify the malicious curse on the Defence position, that prevents us from having a proper Defence Against The Dark arts professor for longer than a year.”

This time the entire hall exploded in cheers. Despite House rivalries, everyone hated the fact that their DADA professors were always changing, and half the time, barely competent at best.

Harry glanced at Ron. The grinning redhead was looking back at him in surprise, probably thinking that he had arranged all of it. Truth be told, he would have preferred it if someone other than Bill had been leading the mission. Not because he had any doubts about his competency, but because of the unresolved tensions between him and Fleur. He knew that there was no way Fleur would be skipping on the detour, and could only hope that the two would conduct themselves professionally.

And with that, Harry wondered if he had stepped into a mirage world where Harry Potter was afraid of others blowing things out of proportion.

“For that reason,” said Dumbledore, “students are asked to stay in their respective dormitories, or in the outer courtyard. If you have legitimate reason to get out, seek the aid of a Prefect. Be warned that myself, along with professors Snape, McGonagall, Babbling and Vector will be joining Mr. Potter for his detour into the Chamber of Secrets. As such, Professor Burbage and Professor Sinistra will be substituting for the Heads of House Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively.”

The response wasn’t particularly warm for this one, but it was polite.

“Ah well,” said the man. “With all of that out of the way, I shall leave you to enjoy your breakfast. The expedition from Gringotts is soon to arrive along with representatives from the Board of Governors, and the DMLE. Suffice to say, we are taking account of all possible security issues. With little effort, we will finally be able to get rid of the heinous curse inflicted on the Defence position.”

Harry softly banged his head against the bench. One would’ve thought that someone like Albus Dumbledore knew not to challenge Fate so blatantly.

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An hour later, Harry and Daphne had been called down to the Great Hall, only to find Bill Weasley standing with the rest of his team, and waving at him. Bill introduced him to his partner, a British-American woman with honey-blonde hair and a heart-shaped face called Caroline Rakepick, a slightly obese wizard with brown hair going bald named Bernard, and a goblin named Sharptooth. Caroline was actually an animagus that could transform into a  rattlesnake. She was learning to speak Parseltongue without having to transform into her animagus form, but it was a work in progress. Bernard was an arithmancer and skilled in ward analysis, Sharptooth a runologist, while Bill was the ward-breaker, or in his terminology, deconstructor. Bill had been rather interested in what Harry had been up to recently, and not so subtly inquired about Fleur, but Harry avoided it deftly.

There was another team, led by a middle-aged man of Indian origin, who Harry recognized as Ishan Patil, a specialist in harvesting magical creatures and more importantly, Parvati and Padma Patil’s father. On a different note, the man was a polyglot in several classical Indian languages, as Daphne had told him when she had made him write him a letter, seeking translation help for the books inside Ananta-Shesha’s lair. After all, language translation charms were limited by the expertise and fluency of the original maker, and there was always a margin of error in them.

“Dad!” He heard Daphne yell, and turned around to his left to see Joshua arrive, with Sirius and a third person that he couldn’t recognize. Harry excused himself and rushed to Sirius and gave the older man a hug which Sirius returned with equal enthusiasm.

“It’s so nice seeing you in person, Padfoot.” He said. “I thought you wouldn’t be coming! Joshua said —”

Sirius barked out a laugh, and ruffled Harry’s hair. “I wasn’t supposed to. But Amelia decided to switch my team with another for this mission. Never misses a trick, that woman,” he laughed some more. “And so I got sent as the DMLE Representative instead. Also, something about being your Regent and proxy while you’re stuck at Hogwarts as a student. Personally, I think she’s bonkers. I’ll just let Joshua do all the haranguing and enjoy the sights.”

“You do that, Black. Let the adults deal with adult things,” said Joshua, before turning to Harry and giving him a nod.

Harry nodded back.

The crowd was already becoming quite big, especially with Professors Babbling, Vector, Mcgonagall, Snape and finally Fleur joined the group. Harry turned and saw Dumbledore walking towards them with Newt Scamander and Nicholas Flamel in tow.

“So Newt,” Dumbledore introduced them, “This is Harry Potter. Harry here has been following your footsteps and wanted me to write you a letter of recommendation. I thought this expedition might be a wonderful way to introduce you two.”

“Er… hello, sir,” said Harry, feeling a little self-conscious. He hadn’t thought very much beyond the idea of corresponding with the man. What did you talk about anyway? Hello sir, I have a moulted runespoor and I’m a parselmouth. Could you give me advice on making it big and scary without perpetuating the Dark Wizard stereotype?

“Harry Potter,” said the man with a slight stutter. “At long last! Yes, Professor Dumbledore told me all about you. Your idea of exploring the potential of Parseltongue on a moulted runespoor, casting aside centuries of superstition is very intriguing. Do you, um, do you have the runespoor at hand?”

Harry observed how the man didn’t actually make eye-contact with him for more than a flickering second. It was like dealing with an autistic person, though his interest in Hecate and Harry’s work was genuine. He moved with the sort of exaggerated caution of someone who was several sizes larger than normal, keeping his hands and arms close to his body. He even spoke a little bit softly, as if apologising for the resonant baritone in his voice.

“I, yes,” said Harry. “Though she’s a handful. I put her in a separate location away from the students. She can be a little… temperamental, and people react a bit extremely to her.”

“Yes, yes. Like I always tell Dumbledore, there are no strange creatures —”

“Only blinkered people,” Harry finished, much to Newt’s surprise. “I, read your works, Sir, I mean, Professor Scamander.”

“Oh my, that’s adorable,” Daphne said, smiling. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Please, call me Newt,” said the man, looking slightly embarrassed himself. His expressions told him that he was no better at taking praise than Harry was. “I’m not made to be a professor. Merlin’s beard, where are you pushing me into, Dumbledore? At this rate, you’ll even saddle me with an office.”

Newt looked embarrassed. Daphne just looked amused.

“Ah, yes, I forgot,” said Dumbledore, stepping in. “Working in an office is Newt’s greatest fear. But you’re a visiting lecturer, Newt. Can’t have you living in that suitcase of yours now, can we? What would Tina say?”

“She’d be happy that I haven’t changed at all, Dumbledore.”

“Brian,” interrupted Nicholas Flamel. “Might I request some introductions for this old man?”

Harry had to bite his tongue at that, lest he speak out something foolish.

“Ah, forgive me, Nick. This is Harry Potter, and on his arm, is his betrothed, Daphne Greengrass.”

The man nodded, and briefly shook hands with each of them.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” said Harry. “I’m really so—” he paused midway, internally cursing himself for the near slip of his tongue, before he took a steady breath and forcibly settled himself.

“Yes?” asked the man.

“I mean, I’m really sorry, with, you know, what happened with the stone.”

The man’s eyes glowed with unrestrained intellect, as he gave Harry a full-body glance, as if analysing him. It felt eerily similar to the Headmaster’s penetrating blue-eyed stare. He shifted his gaze slightly towards Harry’s right, and flicked his fingers, as magic shimmered around them, almost like a veil. It took him a second to realise that everyone except Daphne, Dumbledore and Newt Scamander were looking away, talking to themselves, as if the five of them weren’t even present, almost like a notice-me-not charm, except that nobody was even looking around for them.

Harry could feel the subtle magic almost touching him from behind, while Daphne looked around, trying to understand what just happened.

“An occlusion bubble,” said Flamel. “My wife’s invention. For as long as we are within it, no one will notice our presence, or absence. One might even say that this ward keeps them from thinking about the caster while the bubble exists.”

“Woah…” murmured Daphne.

It really was fascinating. Harry wondered what Fleur would think of this ward. The closest he could relate to was an aversion ward, with certain aspects of the Fidelius charm. That the alchemist had done it with a casual flick of his fingers left him feeling utterly humbled.

“I apologise for casting it without permission,” said Flamel, in a tone that made him feel he was deeming him worthy of his time. “I felt we were reaching… sensitive topics. Now, what were you saying, Mr. Potter?”

Harry released the breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“I just… wanted to apologise for what happened back in my first year. I mean you trusted Professor Dumbledore with the stone, and if not for me, the stone…”

“Harry,” said Dumbledore. “I believe I have told you this. Only someone that wanted to find the stone, but not use it, could find it.”

“Yes, but if I hadn’t been down there, the stone would’ve been inside the Mirror. If not for my stupidity…”

Dumbledore grimaced at his words. “Harry, you underestimate the valour of your own actions. And you will remember that Nicholas and I both decided that it was better to destroy the stone, than keep it.”

“But without it, uh —”

“Before you so subtly try to ask me when I’m going to die,” said Nicholas, “let me assure you that me and my wife have enough Elixir to put our affairs in order, as I believe, Brian might have told you. Besides, the Stone’s purpose is now served. It soothes this shrivelled heart that there will be no further need to ensure its wretched existence upon our world.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. Something about the man’s words told him that there was more to the Stone than the Elixir of Life or transmuting lead to gold.

“You say that as if the Stone was a bad thing, sir.” Daphne pointed out.

“My dears,” said the man, “when you’ve lived for as long as I’ve lived, you’ll recognize that at the end of it all, magic is all about equivalent exchange. You give a little, you take a little. Knowing what you know about the Stone, perhaps you should revisit the question at your leisure?”

He gave a pointed look at Harry as he said that.

“But enough rambling about this old man’s glory days,” said Flamel, “I have been hearing wonderful things about Britain’s newest Warlock. Tell me, is it true that you have been working to become a craftsman of a brand new thaumaturgical discipline? I believe you call it… Death?”

Harry nodded.

“Wonderful. It’s been quite some time since anyone has introduced a paradigm shift to our world. I have kept in touch with Brian here about your workshop.” He waved his hand and Harry felt the ward dissipate. It was fascinating how nobody even reacted to their sudden presence, as if they were always there.

Weird. Fascinating, but weird.

“After this is over, I look forward to seeing your research.”

“And I your input,” he bowed slightly in thanks.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentle wizards,” he said, smiling benevolently at the gathered crowd. “Thank you  all for coming today. We all have the honour of descending into Slytherin’s fabled Chamber of Secrets. Our primary objective there is to recover the basilisk carcass from the Chamber, after which you will be asked to perform a cursory inspection of the Chamber, just to ensure there are no other dangers lurking in the shadows. Also, on behalf of the school, I’d like to thank Harry Potter for his generosity.”

There was a small round of applause that got Harry blushing. He was getting better at accepting praise from others, but there was still a long way to go.

“That said, I must remind everyone, that is the Salazar Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets. There is no saying that the basilisk was the only protection inside its vaults. It is possible we might face enchantments and bewitched artefacts that could turn out dangerous. As such, I’d request all those underage to remain with an adult at all times, and allow the curse-breaking squad to lead the way.”

Harry exchanged an amused glance with Daphne. That he was being chaperoned by an adult while he held the wards to the very Chamber they were visiting was a little hilarious. Besides, he knew, more than anyone, exactly how lethal the Chamber could be. He didn’t know if the spectre he faced in his second-year was unaware of the true enchantments in the Chamber, or if he needed to turn corporeal to enact them. Either way, he was insanely lucky to have ended the spectre before such a thing had come to pass.

In hindsight, it fully explained how Dobby thought it was better for him to be sent home, wounded and broken, rather than stay at Hogwarts when that was unleashed. Harry remembered how horrified he was when he found out about it. Ananta-Shesha’s words had been apt.

It was indeed a Containment. Of Magic. The Worst Kind.

He hadn’t quite come clean with Daphne about the real reason for the Chamber’s existence. It had been easy to sell her the idea that this place hoarded ancient knowledge of forgotten magical disciplines. That she was overwhelmed with finding out more about blood curses was enough to distract her from everything else.

She had tunnel vision like that.

But Harry knew. He knew exactly how lucky the world was that Salazar Slytherin worked for the benefit of the school, and not against it. In fact, the more he came to know about the Chamber, the more he was sure that perhaps Tom Riddle never deciphered this particular portion of the Chamber, or if he did, he never managed to awaken Ananta-Shesha. The world would have been a far, far worse place with the Secrets of the Chamber under Lord Voldemort’s command.

Still, part of the curse-breaking expedition was to find out exactly where the archaic defences of Salazar’s time stood against the advances the magical world had made in the last millennia. He knew it was an unfair bet, since almost all of Salazar’s enchantments were carried through by the power of Family Magics, but magical research had come a long way since then.

Or at least, that was what he thought.

“Well then,” asked Dumbledore, “Tempus Fugit, as they say. So, shall we proceed?”