Author’s Note: Thanks very much to my Beta, Letomo. The following ways of notation may be found in this story. This is excluding whatever I need to represent chatting, texting and stuff like that. And you can thank Twilightwanderer for the Abbott and Costello. Speech:
“Who’s on first.” Thought:
*What’s on second.
#I-don’t-know’s on third.# Thanks to Jazzibear for recommending this tale. Please review, it’s the only way in which I will learn what you think and can address what you wish to know. This is the final chapter in this re telling of the Chamber of secrets, which I hope will bring some closure. Thanks for reading. Chapter 12: Endings
“Merlin, he walked that far with these injuries?” Poppy Pomfrey was waving her wand over Ron, directing Snape as to what potions needed to be administered or brewed. He complied, without argument. He’d deposited the bits of Lockhart in a bowl and cast a stasis charm on them.
Hermione was crying in Minerva’s arms. “I want Mum and Dad! I want my Mum and Dad!” Minerva was soothingly stroking the girl’s hair and Luna, who had been brought at Harry’s insistence, to help comfort Hermione, was crooning an old lullaby.
Harry and Hagrid were being seen to by Filius and Silvanus, after they had both been cursorily inspected by Madam Pomfrey, and declared basically fit. Ginny was crying, hugged tight by her parents.
Fred and George Weasley stood silently by the door, an odd look of respect on their faces as they looked at Ron’s unconscious body on the hospital bed.
Percy was sitting in a visitor’s chair, Penelope next to him, their fingers entwined and their hands dangling between the chairs.
Albus Dumbledore, unusually grim faced stood in the Infirmary, looking at his wounded pupils. “Miss Granger, I’m afraid your parent’s can’t come here. They wouldn’t be able to look past the wards to see the School, I’m afraid.”
“Couldn’t they use Spectrespecs? Daddy says he thinks that they should allow Normals to see magic, if we can see things through them that we normally can’t see…” Luna asked, before gently rubbing Hermione’s shoulders.
Dumbledore exchanged glances with Minerva and Filius. The old wizard shrugged as if to say that their guess was as good as his. “Miss Lovegood, that might just work. Do you have a pair or two of those on hand?”
Luna nodded. “Daddy publishes one issue with a complimentary pair each year; I have a stack in my trunk.”
“Miss Lovegood? If you would be so kind as to fetch them, I will then go and see if I can bring Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Meet me at the Main Gates, if you would be so kind.”
Luna looked at Hermione. “Hermione…I’m going to help Professor Dumbledore get your Mummy and Daddy…Will you be alright with Professor McGonagall?”
Hermione sobbed. “I want my Mum and Dad!”
Minerva looked at Luna. “I’ll take that as a yes. Albus, if the parents’ can’t come here, we’ll take her to them, understood?” Her tone brooked no argument.
Albus Dumbledore nodded. “Quite well. Miss Lovegood?”
Luna was gone already, sprinting down the hallways to the Ravenclaw tower.
Luna arrived at the gates, breathlessly, placing two pairs of cardboard spectacles in the Headmaster’s hand. “Sir, I think it might go better if you call them ‘Normals’ than ‘Muggles’…”
Dumbledore blinked at the apparent non sequitur and then strode out of the gate. “Excellent suggestion, Miss Lovegood.” He twisted on his heel and appeared in a small shrubbery in a little park in the wealthy suburb where Hermione Granger’s parents lived. He went up to the door and rang the doorbell.
Jean Granger opened the door. A man who seemed to be predominantly purple and green robe and hairy whiteness stood before her.
“Mrs. Granger? My name is Albus Dumbledore.”
Jean Granger froze. “What’s happened to Hermione?”
“She was attacked, Mrs. Granger. May I come in?”
Jean wordlessly stood aside, closing the door behind the old wizard.
“Hermione is physically fine…but she wants and needs you and your husband.”
Norman Granger had joined his wife, his face grim and worried. “What happened?”
“I will tell you, but first I have a request. Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, when you were told about Hogwarts, you were told it was impossible for you to see the school. I realize this may sound and look strange…but could you put on these spectacles?”
He held out the Spectrespecs and both of the Grangers looked at him as if he was an idiot. “I realize they look strange, but they allow wizards to see things we normally can’t…So one of our cleverest pupils suggested it might allow normal people to see magic…”
Jean Granger grabbed one of the pairs and put it on, Norman did the same. Dumbledore waved his wand and a line of magic flowed from the tip. “Did you see that?”
Both Grangers nodded. Dumbledore beamed. “Excellent! Then with your permission, we will Side-along Apparate. You most likely will feel ill, sick afterwards, but it is the fastest method of travel. Please take hold of my arm, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger.”
They appeared in front of the gates seconds later, both Grangers looked more than a little green around the gills.
Luna shot to Mrs. Granger’s side. “Hello, I’m Luna, Luna Lovegood and Hermione really wants to see you, if you’re her Mum and Dad?”
Mrs. Granger shook off her nausea and nodded. “Take us to her.”
Harry had told his story and Hermione hers. Ginny had been firmly scolded after telling her tale and been told that it was not
the end of the matter. Ron had not awakened to tell his. A ragged house elf, clutching a sock, was sitting by Harry, who was on a chair against the wall between the beds, looking at his friends.
Ginny Weasley was firmly ensconced in her mother’s arms, as Molly Weasley sat by her youngest son’s bed. Ron was sleeping, exhausted by his injuries and their subsequent healing. Arthur sat at his other side, his hand on Ron’s upper arm
Hermione Granger was sleeping, emotionally exhausted, in the bed next to Ron, her hands held by her parents, whose faces were a mixture of anger and relief. Both of the older Grangers wore strange, multicoloured and oddly shaped spectacles that detracted rather from the seriousness of their expressions and the situation.
Cornelius Fudge looked in on the scene with a mild expression on his face. “Well, all seems to have ended for the best.” He smiled at Albus Dumbledore. Kettleburn and McGonagall, who were standing beside the Headmaster, frowned.
“Albus, Minerva, I need to speak to Minister Fudge for a minute, do you mind?”
The two staff members shook their heads and left.
“Well? What did you want to talk about, Kettleburn? I have better things to do than talk to you.” Fudge said coldly.
“Oh, I think not, Fudge.” Kettleburn glared at him. “You see, Fudge, I happen to know who pressured to the Board of Governors that Lockhart be appointed here. Not even Malfoy would consider a suspected pederast for a teaching position.”
Fudge opened his mouth to protest but the old man held up a hand. “Don’t even try, boy. I saw through you the day you stumbled upon ‘The Griffin ate my essay’ as an excuse for not doing your work. You still make up excuses for not doing your work, but now it’s more like ‘There was no homework and the Griffin is dead.’” Kettleburn tapped the fingers of his remaining hand on his artificial arm as he crossed them, glaring at Fudge.
“You, boy, and your Ministry, have work to do. You will find Lockhart, and you will punish him, no matter how embarrassing it might be. You will confiscate his goods and use them to pay reparations to his victims, all his victims. You will officially clear the name of Rubeus Hagrid and name Tom Marvolo Riddle as the murderer of Myrtle Jones. And you will reveal Riddle was that wanker, Voldemort. You will also pay Hagrid a decent compensation for all the years he’s been a suspect.”
Fudge huffed. “And why would I do that?”
“Oh, I won’t reveal anything recent. Just…school boy stuff. ” Kettleburn buffed his nails and smiled nastily. “Amazing what a mermaid can tell you if you ask nicely.”
Fudge paled. “You wouldn’t!”
“You had a pederast appointed as a teacher. You wouldn’t believe what I’m willing to do, Fudge. Your boy on the Board of Governors is gone already. I expect the official apology to be mailed to Hagrid tomorrow at the latest. And Fudge…Albus is a good man, who doesn’t think he’s good enough to be Minister, I on the other hand, am a complete bastard, and I won’t miss a minute of sleep if you do something stupid enough to force me to kill you. Horribly.” He casually drew his wand and fingered it.
Fudge swallowed, his eyes on the thick, short wand in the other man’s hand.
Kettleburn grinned evilly. “Baobab, eight and a half inches, Banshee hair. The only one that Olivander ever made. I killed a score of Grindelwald’s lackeys with this, and a lot of Riddle’s boys. I never liked you, Fudge. It will not make me at all
unhappy to deal with you, or with any bully boys you think can match me. I went wand to wand with Grindelwald, and I’m still here…”
Fudge swallowed again, this time with difficulty, his face a pasty white. “It will, of course, be the Ministry’s pleasure to announce the innocence of Mr. Hagrid, and to reveal the guilty party.” Kettleburn nodded and made move with his hand as if encouraging the Minister. Fudge continued. “W-we shall also make sure that Lockhart is revealed for the child raping scum that he is.”
“Very good, Minister. I knew we’d come to an agreement...I suggest you leave now. You have much to set in motion.” Kettleburn watched with satisfaction as the younger man took off at as near a run as his corpulent body could manage.
Filius Flitwick was rummaging through the contents of Lockhart’s trunks, aided by a Senior Auror by the name of Moody, who was nearing retirement but was very eager to help track down Lockhart. A set of leather notebooks contained the interviews with the people who had really done the deeds Lockhart claimed. Another contained names and pictures of his other, younger, victims. It also contained a key to a Gringott’s vault and nearly six hundred Galleons in coin, as well as dozens of robes and outfits. A lot of the contents of the trunks could be sold and used to give some form of compensation to his victims. * At least there’s enough for a new wand for young Mr. Weasley.*
Severus Snape rang the bell of the modest house. He was wearing an overcoat that would draw no attention in either of the two worlds he frequented.
The door was opened by the smaller of the two Watchers, Robson.
Robson stood aside and Snape entered. Just then there was a bang, of a door being thrown open and a shout from upstairs. “I don’t want to be the Slayer! I hate it! I don’t wanna! I wanna be normal!!” Thudding, small footsteps resounded and another door slammed. Snape raised an eyebrow.
“Did I come at an inopportune time?”
“No time would have been opportune. Ellie…Ellie refuses to shoulder her destiny.”
“And you do not wish to send a child like her to her death.” Snape answered quietly.
“Understandable.” Snape took a small box out of his coat and handed it to Robson. “ I fear the rest of him got away.”
Robson opened the box and guffawed. “Is anyone after him?”
“Yes. And one of my colleagues cast a spell on him. Punio Construpator
, I punish the Rapist, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it…”
There was knocking upstairs and a man’s voice asking, pleading Ellie to open the door.
Robson looked up at the noise and then back at Snape. “Punio…that’s err…a very dark spell.”
“Yes. I was a bit surprised myself. He’s a very gentle man. I would call it justice, however.”
“Some compensation will be coming her way. Not much, but a little.” Snape sneered. “The Ministry of course will deny any culpability.”
“You’re welcome.” Snape left and Apparated out as soon as possible. He stalked into Hogwarts, into the library, nodded curtly at Irma Pince and went deep into the restricted section and returned with an ancient volume. He noticed it hadn’t been checked out since he had done so in his seventh year. He took the book to his chambers and did not emerge until breakfast the next day.
Ron woke up, his eyes blearily focusing ion the person by his bed. “Mum?” He shot upright. “ Mione! Is ‘ Mione alright? And Ginny?”
“Ginny is fine, Harry, Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn saved her. Hermione is fine too; she’s showing her parents the castle.” His mother soothed, pushing him back into the pillows.
“Did he…did Lockhart.” Ron asked with a fearful expression on his face.
“No, professor Snape and Professor Flitwick saved her and you as well.” She smoothed some of his red hair of his forehead.
“Snape?” Ron asked incredulously.
“Professor Snape, Ron.” Molly said severely. “And yes. You may not like him very much, but he did.”
“Oh. So when do I get out?”
“Not for another day at least. A lot of the power of healing comes from within. You…you were badly injured and you…you almost died, Ronald Bilius Weasley! Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” Molly sobbed and hugged him to her chest.
“I almost died?”
“Yes. It was most Gryffindorish of you.” The sneering voice came from the doorway and Snape stood there, pale and tired looking. “I am sorry to disturb you, but it is most urgent...Mrs. Weasley, can I speak to you for a moment, alone?”
Molly rose and went behind the curtain with him. After a few minutes she returned and sat by Ron again, holding his hand. Snape billowed out of the room, tucking a small vial away as he left. “He’ll send an owl to your Father.” She rubbed her arm and looked thoughtful.
“Mum? D-did you get my wand back?”
“Yes, but it is worse than before. But we also got some money in compensation from Lockhart’s vault. So you will be getting a new one. Your very own.” She ruffled his hair again. “Professor Dumbledore gave both you and Harry a hundred and fifty points and Hermione fifty.”
“Oh…Is Hermione really alright.”
Molly smiled. “Yes, love, she’s really alright. Now I think you need some more sleep.”
Ron settled back into his pillow and did just that, his hand held by his mother. His mother loved him, and he knew that.
The door to the church opened and a man walked in. The priest in front of the altar looked up, surprised. “Severus?”
“Darius. Are you really two millennia old? And a Lightning Warrior?”
Darius almost rolled his eyes. “Yes. I am. And?”
“Can I have some of your blood?”
Darius blinked. “Why?”
“Let me show you…”
“Professor Flitwick?” Luna asked, fidgeting with her bookbag.
Flitwick looked up from his desk and smiled broadly. “Miss Lovegood. How may I help you?”
Luna took a very deep breath. “I want to know about bloodwards.”
Flitwick’s smile faltered. “What? Miss Lovegood, how do you even know about their existence?”
Luna gave him a sad little smile. “Because I wasn’t asleep when you and my father were talking about them in St. Mungo’s.”
Flitwick sat back, remembering that day, two years ago when Soleil Lovegood, who had been Soleil d’Alban, his favourite student, had given her life to protect her daughter. He remembered discussing Bloodwards and spells with Xenophilius, to keep the man’s mind off the fact that his daughter might still die, off the fact of the torn and bloody body cold and dead in the Wizard Morgue below. He looked at the pale, nervous girl and made up his mind. “Very well. I will tell you some general facts. Not how to cast them.”
Luna shuddered. “I wouldn’t want
to know how, not for a dozen more years at least. Thank you, Professor.”
Rubeus Hagrid looked at the parchment. The Ministry and Wizangamot letterhead. The Ministerial seal. The signature of Cornelius Fudge. And official declaration that he was innocent, had always be innocent and that he was being paid five thousand Galleons for the fact that he had been deprived of a chance to become a full wizard and had lived under suspicion for fifty years. A hundred Galleons for each year…It was honestly more than he was expecting…But then he had never expected anything… What should he do?
There was a loud banging at the door. “Rubeus! Open up, boy! It’s bloody cold out here!”
Hagrid hastened to open the door. Dumbledore and Kettleburn stood outside. “Gennelmen! Come in! Errr? Tea?”
Dumbledore nodded and so did Kettleburn. Hagrid made tea and put down some pastries. Kettleburn bit one. “Rubeus, did you bake this?”
Hagrid beamed proudly. “Yerse, I did!”
“Right. I’ll be teaching you how to cook then, among other things.” Silvanus murmured to himself, while probing his teeth with his tongue to see if he still had all of them, and undamaged.
Albus grinned. “Hagrid…I received an owl from Minister Fudge that you have been fully cleared of any wrongdoing in the affair of the murder of Myrtle Jones. You are to be awarded the Order of Merlin, third class, for your heroism in defeating the Basilisk. And I’m here to make you an offer.”
He looked expectantly at Hagrid who had become quite flustered. “Wha’ever you say Professor.”
“Silvanus here is feeling his years and wants to take it a bit easier, so he’s requested an Assistant Professor to support him. He thinks, and I agree, that you would be excellent for the job.”
“Finest bit of Snake wrangling I’ve seen in my whole life!” Kettleburn agreed heartily, while trying to dissolve his cake in his tea.
“Now, the Ministry is also offering to pay for your rehabilitation, so that means professor Kettleburn will be taking you to Diagon Ally tomorrow to buy a new wand. And he’ll teach you to Apparate as well.”
Hagrid looked from the one to the other, as if unable to believe what they were saying.
“And he has kindly offered to be your primary tutor so that you can become a fully qualified wizard. You will be taking certain classes, private if you wish, or with the students, whatever you prefer, preparatory to taking your OWLS and NEWTS.”
Hagrid took out a large, red handkerchief and blew his nose with loud, trumpeting noises. “Thank yeh, professors. I neve’ though’…”
Kettleburn’s tea and rock cake had turned into a single, soggy mass, which he ate with evident pleasure. “Good taste, bit hard. Now Rubeus, if you are agreed?”
Hagrid nodded, blowing his nose again. “Yerse. Please.”
Dumbledore beamed. “Oh, wonderful. Silvanus, I’ll leave you to discuss the details with Hagrid. Rubeus, congratulations. Congratulations indeed! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to recruit a new Defence Teacher for the rest of the year. Hmmm…Silvanus?”
Kettleburn shook his head. “No, thank you, Albus.” He rubbed his chin. “How about we all take a few weeks? Will do us good to get out of the rut and each of us has different specializations, Pomona knows ways of handling plants I never heard of. “
“Excellent notion! Rubeus, may I put you down for a slot of teaching too?” Hagrid nodded, stunned and Dumbledore patted the huge man on the shoulder affectionately, did the same with Silvanus and left.
“Now, then Rubeus, how much did they offer you in compensation?”
LLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDPLLDP Dear Daddy, Normal people can see magic when they wear Spectrespecs, just like you thought! You asked me to tell you if I ever thought of something to help make money. Well, you invented Spectrespecs, and you can sell them to the normal parents of magical children who can then use them to see magic! It will make it a lot easier to understand magic for them, don’t you think? And you can make money from it! You remember I told you about Myrtle? She’ll be lonely over the Hols once I’m gone, will it be alright for her to come haunt us? Oh, and you might want to warn the Gnomes in the Weasley Garden that Ginny is going to be punished, but she was very silly, trusting a diary, and she couldn’t even see where it kept its brain! (See my full report for The Quibbler, it’s not as interesting as the report on Ottoline Flitter fairies, but it will sell papers I suppose. We may have enough to go to Norway, even!) I got a hundred points for Ravenclaw for helping with the Chamber of Secrets, two hundred for telling the Headmaster about the Spectrespecs and another fifty for suggesting to the Headmaster we might use The Chamber of Secrets for parties. The House Elves are very happy, they say cleaning it and fixing it up properly will take years! There’s also a free house elf here, do you know someone nice with Malfoy Blood? The Gryffindors got three hundred and fifty points for fighting the Basilisk, but they lost two hundred for all the parties they threw and for acting like Gryffindors. So Ravenclaw is in the lead! Love you and miss you very much, your Moonchild.
Olivander appeared out of the back of the shop and smiled up at the huge bearded man, with the indescribably happy and childlike expression on his face.
“Rubeus Hagrid. It is good to see you here buying a wand for yourself. Now, your last one was sixteen inches, oak, with a griffin tail feather core…I don’t suppose you still have the pieces?”
Hagrid took out a worn wand, carefully joined together near the middle with two double dove tail tenons , carefully inlaid and polished smooth.
“You did this yourself?” Olivander asked while running the wand through his hands. “Well done. The wand is as whole as it may be…However, the Griffin feather was damaged, and the core’s joining to the wand wood disrupted…Let’s see what we have for you…Oak, I still think, and firm rather than supple…Eighteen inches, oak, unicorn tail hair…”
Severus Snape rang the doorbell and was let into the house by Robson, who looked frightened, angry and disgusted.
“Mr. Snape…this is not a good time.”
“May I ask why not?”
“There are some people here…Ellie…”
“Does not want to be the Slayer. Yes. Which is why I made this.”
Snape took a potion from his pocket and held it up, reverentially. “In duo Partes
…one of the rarest potions in the world. It has not been brewed in more than a thousand years…It will remove the Slayer from Miss Tavistock.”
Robson gasped. “What? How is that possible?”
“According to the notes, the Slayer is a part of, yet separate from, the girl it inhabits. The potion may also be given to vampires, but is only likely to kill them, since without the demon they would not have a motive force, or animus.” Snape explained.
“And if it doesn’t work?”
“Forgive me for saying this, but are they not going to kill Miss Tavistock?”
Robson swallowed. “Come upstairs with me, we need to convince the Legate.”
Snape followed the shorter man up the stairs and was led into a study.
A graying, dapper tweed clad man, one he had never seen before, sat in a chair with an air of authority. Burgoyne, looking sad and broken, sat opposite him. The unknown man eyed Snape with some interest. “I assume from the descriptions you are Severus Snape?”
“Yes? And you are?”
“Quentin Travers, Legate of the Watchers Council. Why are you here?”
“Why are you?”
“Miss Tavistock refuses to fulfill her destiny. Neither Mr. Robson, nor Mr. Burgoyne are willing to take the necessary steps. If need be, I will.” The man answered calmly. “As Mr. Robson no doubt explained to you. Now, Mr. Snape, why are you here?”
Snape put the potion on the desk. It sparkled blue and silver in the light of the desk lamp. “This is a potion called In Duo Partes
, it… “
“Impossible! The ingredients are legendary! The brewing process so difficult, only a true Master could manage it.”
“Until some months ago I would have agreed. I will not reveal the sources of my ingredients.”
“Understood…you swear by your magic that this is, to the best of your knowledge, the In Duo Partes
“Yes. I will make a wand oath, if you want.”
Travers picked up the bottle. “I assume she must drink this?”
“Yes. But the effects won’t be all pleasant.”
“She will live. Burgoyne…John. Go give her this.” Travers said gently.
“Hang tradition! If we had this potion for every unsuitable Slayer, for every battle weary one, do you think I would not use it? Do you think I enjoy having to kill children to safeguard the world? Give her the damn potion!”
Burgoyne nodded and left, hurriedly. Snape eyed the suddenly rather less forbidding looking man across the desk. “I cannot make it often, the process is delicate and the ingredients, rare.”
Snape pursed his lips. “Each has to be made for each Slayer, each creature, specifically.”
Suddenly Travers looked very old. “It wouldn’t work, would it?”
“Not unless I had access to…” Snape shook his head. “No, no the ingredients would not be available.. This was a special case. The girl has only been a Slayer for days, which allowed me to substitute a less powerful ingredient for one that no longer exists. To make it even marginally safe for another Slayer, it would always have to be administered within a week at the most.”
There was a horrible scream from the other room, old, and other worldly. It turned into a far more girlish one, one with which Snape was very familiar. “Does she remember what Lockhart did?”
“Yes. Sometimes Slayer resistance to magic can be very inconvenient.” Travers said sadly.
“Once the potion takes hold…I am not a great supporter of Memory charms, but considering Lockhart has already been condemned, and her testimony is not needed.”
Travers pursed his lips. “We need to ask Burgoyne. I must admit in this case I would be in favour, she does not need the memories of being a Slayer, or being attacked.”
“I will ask Mr. Burgoyne.”
“No. I will. I need to congratulate him on adopting his daughter still.” Quentin Travers smiled slightly and leaned back in the luxurious chair. “But we will give them a few minutes.” End Note: The tale of Luna Lovegood will be taken up again in Luna Lovegood and the Shaggy Dog, the first chapter of which will go up next Wednesday, October 12th.