Echoes of Destiny: Harry and Bellatrix's Second Chance

"I'm afraid that your new trick is getting rather old," Bellatrix told Harry. She was lounging on a couch, basking in the heat of a fire brought into existence by the Room of Requirement. Harry's projected image had been walking around the room for half an hour as Harry tested its capabilities. Bellatrix had spent the time flipping through various books that the Room of Requirement had provided her for her time next to the fireplace.

Harry frowned at her-or rather his image did. "You have no idea how useful this spell could be in a duel or while spying."

"Oh, I have an idea," Bellatrix said. "It's just that you should be able to twist it into more useful practice. Does the image projected have to strictly reflect you?"

"Well apparently not," Harry said. "The image is walking, but I am not."

"I assumed that," Bellatrix said. "Can't you make yourself look different? Can your projected image duel as if it were you?"

Harry sighed, and the image disappeared. Promptly, the real Harry appeared standing close to Bellatrix's couch. "I'll look into it, but I'd rather become accustomed to the abilities I already have."

"All right then," Bellatrix said. "Now that you've become competent with the spell I assigned to you, I have a new one."

Harry sighed. "Have you even been working on casting a patronus?"

"I've given it a few tries," Bellatrix said offhandedly, dodging Harry's inquiry. Quickly, she moved on to pressing her agenda. "But that's beside the point. Your talent and power are too valuable to be wasted. If you're sick of working on the image projection spell, it's time to move on. You can come back to it later. I've found a very useful, though rare spell that might be up your alley. Didn't you say the core to that wand is a phoenix feather?"

"Yeah, why?"

Bellatrix handed Harry a small book. "Try the spell on page seventeen."

It appeared that the book's cover might have once been leather, but time had degraded it to the point of being recognized only as a substance browner and harder than the sheets of paper held within. Gingerly, Harry cracked open book to and attempted to cipher the ancient language and runes on page seventeen. "Phoenix fire?" he asked.

"Yes," said Bellatrix. "An alternate means of transportation. Consider it. No one thinks to ward against phoenix fire, and to be truthful, I don't think anyone can. Furthermore, it sounds like it is much smoother than even apparition. There's also the element of style to be considered. Appearing and disappearing in bursts of flame would be impressive."

"Well, when you put it that way," Harry said slowly. "But, it kind of sounds too good to be true."

Bellatrix took the book back from Harry. "The image projection spell also seemed beyond belief. Even I had doubts," she admitted.

Harry chose not to respond to her confession. Instead, he focused on the feasibility of the spell. "What does the book say?"

"It says the spell's creator was obsessed with phoenixes. The power of their feathers, the healing properties of their tears, their ability to carry heavy objects, etc. He was convinced that the phoenix embodied the noblest properties of the light-as opposed to the dark. He discovered the spell and used it often. However, when he attempted to teach it to others, he discovered that very few wizards or witches were capable."

"How few?" Harry sighed.

"One or two while he was alive. A handful of others after he died," Bellatrix said. "Each of them had some affinity or connection to phoenixes. I reckon a phoenix feather wand might do the trick."

Harry shrugged thoughtfully. "It might." There's also the time I was healed by phoenix tears and Fawkes's apparent approval of me, he thought to himself. He held up his yew and phoenix feather wand. "All right, I'll give it a try. What's the incantation?"

"Well," said Bellatrix, "it doesn't quite have one. The spell's creator seemed to think it was more of a mental exertion. Imagine the fire surrounding you. You are the fire. You are travelling. Then you are the fire, and then you are Harry again."

Harry groaned. "Give me the book." Bellatrix surrendered the book to him and Harry perused the details about the spell, its creator, and the specific instructions for its casting. "It seems related to the image projection spell," he commented. "I'm seeing a lot of the same principles. The difference is that instead of just projecting my image, I'm going all the way."

"In a blaze of glory, no less," Bellatrix said, a quirky smile on her face. "Ready to give it a try?"

"Yeah," said Harry, suddenly feeling quite confident. "I can actually see myself doing this." He handed her the book, held his wand out, and closed his eyes.

"Great. I'll watch," said Bellatrix. She stepped back. "Try to aim for somewhere inside this room so I can see."

"Obviously," Harry said, trying to focus his thoughts on the new form of magical transportation. His mind slipped into the thought pattern he used for the image projection spell, though he resisted the urge to release his magic into that particular spell. Remembering that he needed to involve fire, he imagined the fire surrounding himself-not just any fire though, phoenix fire. He reckoned that as soon as he felt the fire, he'd then try to appear with the fire on the other side of the room. He stood still, eyes closed, thoughts focused on being enveloped with phoenix fire.

He felt nothing, and then suddenly… cold and wet. About a hundred gallons of cold water sluiced over him, almost knocking him to the floor. Gasping, Harry opened his eyes and found Bellatrix pointing her wand at him, her eyes betraying a hint of shock.

"What did you do that for?" Harry demanded.

"You were on fire!" Bellatrix retorted.

"I think I would have known if I was on fire," Harry grumbled.

"I think I know fire when I see it!" Bellatrix declared. "Apparently you forgot the whole transportation idea and nearly cremated yourself."

Harry looked down at his sodden robes and cringed. "I didn't forget about the transportation. I was waiting until I felt the fire." He began to use his wand to cast drying charms. "There's no way I was on fire. I would have felt it."

"Harry," Bellatrix said, "if the guy who invented this spell felt the fire, he probably wouldn't have continued inventing the spell. Maybe if you didn't close your eyes every time you try to learn a new spell, you would have noticed the fire."

"Maybe you're right," Harry conceded reluctantly.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm right. Let's see you try it again. This time, keep your eyes open, and when you see the fire, focus on moving to the travel destination."

Harry was about to reply, but was cut off when a clock chimed midnight. He grinned triumphantly. "Well, I'd love to stay and continue setting myself on fire, but I do believe that is our cue to move onto the real purpose of this evening." He sheathed his wand in an arm holster and moved toward the door. Next to the door sat a small cage containing an unconscious rooster. "I hope our friend here recovers from your stunning spell, Bellatrix." Harry picked up the chicken cage.

Bellatrix joined Harry at the door to the Room of Requirement. "Of course he'll recover. Are you going to tell me what we're doing, now?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Might as well," Harry said, pausing to collect his thoughts. "The dark lord happens to be the heir of Salazar Slytherin. When he was a student at Hogwarts, he opened the Chamber of Secrets. Do you know what that is?"

"Every good Slytherin knows what the Chamber of Secrets is," Bellatrix answered.

"Great," said Harry. "Tom opened the Chamber, killed a girl, and in the uproar that followed, was forced to abandon his plans to rid the school of the Muggleborn students lest he be caught and brought to justice."

"Interesting," said Bellatrix, prompting Harry to go on.

"The monster placed in the Chamber by Slytherin and later used by the dark lord is a basilisk," Harry declared.

Bellatrix looked down at the unconscious chicken. "Of course. I should have guessed."

"You know about basilisks, too, I take it," Harry commented.

"I was born in a magic family and thus have had the advantage of a magical upbringing," Bellatrix said. "The question, though, is how do you intend to get into this Chamber that supposedly only the heir can open? And of course, how did you come to know all of this about the Chamber?"

"When I was at Hogwarts, the Chamber of Secrets was opened," Harry said. "The dark lord had created a journal that he left behind. The journal was sentient enough to independently possess a girl that had the misfortune to come across it. My friend and I busted into the Chamber, saved the girl, and killed the diary."

Bellatrix frowned. "How did you… kill the diary?"

"Stabbed it with a basilisk fang," Harry said.

"Interesting," Bellatrix murmured. "I think we need to find out more about this journal. It will still be extant in this, the past, wouldn't it?"

"Of course," said Harry. "But if we go down and kill the basilisk now, that won't matter anymore. That's why I want to kill the basilisk while I'm still at Hogwarts."

"I don't know," said Bellatrix. "That journal sounds like an above-average dark artifact to me. It could have multiple uses. But, moving on. How are you able to open the Chamber of Secrets?"

This was a secret Harry was not anxious to reveal, but as he had reflected on the eventuality of revealing it to her this night, Harry had realized that he was not overly concerned about sharing the secret with her. She had proven to be on his side. "I'm a parselmouth," Harry said. "Any parselmouth can open the Chamber."

"Are you really?" Bellatrix said, surprise and shock evident in the tone of her voice.

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, trying to assess her reaction.

Bellatrix looked off into space and nodded to herself, quietly thinking. "That bodes well for our future against the dark lord. Are there other skills he has that you might also possess?"

"Eh, possibly," Harry said, not wanting to get into a discussion concerning his connection to Lord Voldemort.

"Right," Bellatrix said, appearing to not be overly interested in speculation. "I guess we're ready to start. Where is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry smiled. "You don't want to take any guesses?"

"I've heard so many theories that I just don't believe any of them anymore," Bellatrix said. "Just tell me so that we can get going already."

Harry held open the door to the Room of Requirement and followed Bellatrix as she walked out. "It's in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he said.

Bellatrix put her hand over her mouth to stifle hysterical laughter. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom? That's hilarious. But wait. She was the student who died, wasn't she?"

"Yes," Harry acknowledged, gesturing down the hall toward where they should be heading in order to reach the bathroom as quickly as possible. "She accidentally got killed when the dark lord opened it one day and set the monster loose."

"Well, I hate to say it," Bellatrix said quietly, "but she may have been the intended target. She is rather annoying."

Harry winced, a well of sympathy rising in his emotions on the behalf of Myrtle. "Let's not tell her that."

"Why not?" Bellatrix asked as they ascended a staircase. "Maybe she'll get angry enough to flush herself down to the lake. It's not like we need her hovering around watching us do our work."

"She'll never realize it, but I do owe her a few favors," Harry said, thinking back to her help in finding the Chamber and with the Triwizard Tournament.

"Oh, please," Bellatrix scoffed.

Not wanting to explain any further, Harry contented himself to silence. In short order, the couple found themselves outside of the infamously haunted bathroom.

"I can see why you've waited for nearly everyone to go to sleep," Bellatrix said, pushing open the door and walking into the darkened bathroom, Harry following close behind. "A guy walking into a girl's toilet would raise some eyebrows."

"Who's there?" came a girlish voice.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something snide, but Harry held out his hand and forestalled her. "It would be best if Myrtle remains unable to identify us to anyone who might ask."

"What if ghosts can see in the dark?" Bellatrix whispered back.

"I don't think they can," Harry said, handing the caged chicken to Bellatrix. "Stay back in the darker shadows, and I'll handle this."

"I said, who's there?" Moaning Myrtle declared petulantly. She floated out from her stall and squinted, trying to use the moonlight coming through the windows to see Harry.

Harry drew his wand and quietly placed some charms on himself to obscure his face and disguise his voice.

"You can hurt me; I'm dead," Myrtle declared.

"You might call me a friend," Harry said, his voice coming out as a raspy whisper as he turned toward the sinks. He knelt down and eyeballed the familiar faucet, quickly finding the small snake that marked the entrance to the bathroom. Doing his best to pretend that it was a living snake, Harry spoke to it. His speech came forth from his mouth as a hiss. "Open."

A clank sounded behind the wall and the sink dropped from view. Myrtle gasped in astonishment. "It was you!"

"No," said Harry. "It was not I."

"Then what are you doing?" Myrtle demanded.

"I'm here to kill the monster. In a way, I'm avenging your death. Now, if you would be so kind as to give me a little privacy, I'll be on my way." Turning his attention away from Myrtle as if she was already gone, Harry withdrew a very small broom from his pocket and enlarged it. Glancing up, he saw that Myrtle had drifted back to her stall. Surprised at his luck, he motioned for Bellatrix to come out from the shadows. They both mounted the broom, and Harry gently hovered the broom down the long pipe as Bellatrix held onto the caged rooster.

"Nice broomstick," Bellatrix commented.

"Borrowed it from Quidditch shed," Harry explained.

"Did you ever play?" Bellatrix asked.

"Yes," said Harry. "I miss it."

"Interesting," said Bellatrix. "I can't say that I play, but I've watched a few games. What position did you play most often?"

"Seeker," Harry said as he felt his feet make contact with the floor. As he remembered from his original visit to the Chamber, the floor was quite grimy and covered with skeletons of small animals.

Bellatrix dismounted the broom and surveyed what she could see of their surroundings. "I had expected the Chamber of Secrets to be a little bit more impressive," she said as Harry used his wand to light up the tunnel system they were now standing in.

"This isn't the chamber proper," Harry explained. "It's a little way down the passageway here. I think we're safe, but it might be best if we keep our eyes down and listen carefully for any movement. If you hear anything, close your eyes."

"Does the basilisk run loose?" Bellatrix asked, a hint of concern appearing in her voice.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. At least, it isn't supposed to. From what I understand, it has a holding place inside a big statue of Slytherin."

"You'd think Slytherin would be smart enough to do run it that way, but what about the dark lord?" Bellatrix asked.

"No clue," Harry said. "When I talked to the shadow of the diary, it claimed that the basilisk didn't come unless called. So I think we can assume that's the rule to go by."

"Wonderful," Bellatrix sighed. "Let's get moving. I don't really want to spend all night down here."

Harry led the way to the main opening of the Chamber. The glinting jewels that made the eyes of the carved snakes guarding the entrance made it easy for Harry to imagine that they were indeed real. In response to his command, they slid away and opened the Chamber of Secrets to view. The Chamber was dark, so Harry used his wand to cast several bright orbs toward the ceiling. They hovered, casting a glowing light upon the snake statues and that of Salazar Slytherin himself.

"Very slimy, but very impressive," Bellatrix declared. "It's curious that he would go to such efforts to create a room that no one but his heir would really see. That is, unless Slytherin expected this to become the school headquarters. Or perhaps the center of some ritualistic worship."

"It's a sign that he was completely crazy," Harry replied.

"You have a point," Bellatrix acknowledged, still surveying her surroundings with curiosity. Her eyes lighted on the statue of Slytherin. "The snake lives in there? Great. How did you want to go about killing it?"

"I reckoned I could just open up the entrance to where the snake lives and then get the rooster out and have it crow," Harry explained.

Bellatrix frowned. "Let's think about this strategically, Harry. If the door to the snake's hidey-hole opens and it instantly hears the rooster crow, it will die perhaps instantly."

"Yeah, that's the point," Harry said

"Do you want to climb into the statue to confirm its death?" Bellatrix asked. "What about if we want to harvest potion ingredients later? That would make getting to the snake's body very difficult." Bellatrix said. "How about you open it up, we let the snake slither on out, and then we have the rooster crow?"

"Are you forgetting the deadly nature of its eyes?" Harry asked.

"There's lots of statues behind which to hide," Bellatrix said.

"Oh, very well," Harry said, giving in to her plan.

After a great deal of preparation, they were ready. Bellatrix had revived the rooster and temporarily silenced it while Harry had scouted a hiding place behind one of the statues far from Slytherin's statue. In addition to making sure the snake statue was large and substantial, Harry had enlarged and transfigured a number of stone into walls which provided a sort of bunker in which Harry, Bellatrix, and the rooster could hide.

"Can you open the statue from inside the bunker?" Bellatrix asked as she and Harry crowded in and confirmed that there was room enough for them to stand and maneuver with the chicken.

Harry strained his neck and peeked around the walls. "I can't even see the statue from here. I think I can just go up there, say the words, and then run back here."

"That's risky, Harry. What if it jumps out and attacks you instantly?"

"Don't you think it might at least wait to ascertain who I am and what I want before killing me?" Harry asked.

Bellatrix shook her head negatively. "It's a snake, Harry, and a very intelligent one at that. If this dark lord is so smart, he's bound to have taken precautions against this asset being turned against him."

"Then what do you suggest?" Harry asked, feeling a little bit cross.

"Try your image projection spell," Bellatrix told him. "If it doesn't work out, we don't lose anything."

Harry shrugged and drew his wand. He pointed the wand at the floor and muttered the incantation. Magic whispered in its arcane, though silent way, and Harry felt his presence gliding across the Chamber of Secrets to a position in front of the statue. He came to a halt, and his form materialized in front of the statue. Appearing as if he really were in front of the statue, Harry looked up into its eyes and spoke in Parseltongue. " Speak to me, Slytherin, Greatest of Hogwarts Four!"

Slytherin's mouth opened, and Harry stood transfixed, staring at the dark opening. Abruptly, he felt someone poking his arm. Reflexively, he looked down at his side before realizing he wasn't really standing there. Quickly realizing that it must be Bellatrix, he ended the spell and found himself looking at Bellatrix's face.

"Don't be stupid," she hissed.

"Sorry," said Harry.

"Tell yourself that you're sorry," grumbled Bellatrix, quite obviously trying to strain and listen for sounds of the basilisk exiting its hole. "You're the one that could have gotten killed."

"So, you were able to feel me even though you couldn't see me?" Harry asked, curious about her being able to poke him while he was using the image projection spell.

"Yes, now be quiet," said Bellatrix as she shifted the struggling rooster into a position from where she could remove the silencing charm.

Harry and Bellatrix stood quietly, straining to hear for any sign that the basilisk had entered the chamber through the statue. A number of odd sounds could be heard, but neither Harry nor Bellatrix were sure whether it was the basilisk.

"Make it some bait," Bellatrix said in a deathly still voice. She pointed Harry's attention down to a small rock that would make a good transfiguration candidate.

Harry nodded, pointed his wand at the rock, and transfigured it into an unusually large rat. Before the newly-created rat could gain its senses, Harry pointed his wand and banished it away from their position in the makeshift bunker. A very loud thud signified that it had collided with a column or statue.

The rat began squealing loudly, and then they heard the basilisk roar. They then listened as the basilisk slithered, lunged, and roared while the rat squealed and squeaked.

"I would have thought the rat would die nearly instantly, what with the basilisk's eyes," Bellatrix said, a frown on her face.

"Well, maybe the rat has been lucky and has avoided looking into its eyes," Harry theorized, remembering clearly that Filch's cat had been one of the basilisk's victims during his second year at Hogwarts. There was no chance that the rat was immune to the basilisk's stare. "Are you going to let the rooster crow or are we going to completely sacrifice the rat?" Harry asked.

Bellatrix looked at Harry flatly. "It was a very ugly rat, Harry."

"I can't really say I'm fond of rats either," Harry admitted, as another roar and squeal, followed by a sickening crunching noise marked the end of the transfigured rat's life.

Bellatrix smirked, pointed her wand at the rooster, and then removed the silencing charm. Despite this, the rooster chose to remain silent. "I think you bought a defective rooster, Harry."

"They're supposed to crow whenever there is light," Harry complained.

Bellatrix glanced up at the glowing orbs Harry had used to light the chamber. "Try some normal fire," Bellatrix suggested, "or something more like sunlight, anyway. Either that or transfigure another animal. Maybe a pig, this time." A sound that sounded like it might be the basilisk's scales sliding over the stone floor of the chamber became louder. "Hurry!" she urged.

Harry conjured a very large fireball and lobbed it up in the air. The rooster stared at the fireball and then finally crowed, making the Chamber of Secrets sound vaguely like the friendly barnyard it wasn't. The basilisk shrieked, and Harry and Bellatrix were forced to cover their ears. The basilisk's death cries continued for nearly a minute before a thud marked its falling to the floor.

"Mission accomplished," Harry declared. "Let's go take a look."

Bellatrix put a hand on Harry's shoulder and held him back. "I think it would be better if we stayed here for a few minutes," she said. "We can't be sure that it's completely dead, you know. There's also the possibility that it might still spasm or that maybe its eyes are still capable of killing or stunning."

Harry winced. "With that logic, we'll never be sure whether it is safe to come out or not."

Bellatrix pointed to another small pebble. "Transfigure us a pig, Harry. We'll set it loose. If it can wander around the chamber for a while without anything bad happening, we'll call it good."

"Good plan," Harry said. He transfigured the rock into a pig of normal size and tried to set it loose. It was reluctant to move from the bunker until Bellatrix cast a few stinging charms at its rump. She also decided to send the rooster away, though it, however, was happy to leave the custody of those that had imprisoned it for the past day and a half.

Harry cast a few cleaning charms at the nasty floor and then sat down. Bellatrix followed suit and was soon leaning against the wall of their makeshift bunker with Harry. "How long do we have to wait, do you suppose?" Harry asked.

Bellatrix shrugged. "I don't know. I'm sure we can find something to talk about that will help the time pass quickly."

"Sure," Harry shrugged.

"Great," said Bellatrix. "Let's talk about our upcoming marriage."

Harry closed his eyes and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Realizing that it was futile to debate with Bellatrix, he opted to adopt the strategy of forcing the ball to her court. "Yes," said Harry, "tell me about our marriage."

"Don't be sarcastic, Ashworth," Bellatrix said. She contemplated the subject for a few moments and then started talking. "The biggest issue that we need to keep in mind is the fact that you may already be magically recognized as the proverbial Lord Black. Or at least, 'a' Lord Black if not 'the' Lord Black."

"I thought our lack of what might be described as a romantic relationship was the issue," Harry reminded Bellatrix.

Bellatrix looked at Harry with an arched eyebrow. "Do you need another kiss, Harry?"

"I'm fine," Harry said, looking away. Her offer was strangely tempting and at the same time, slightly repulsing. Young Bellatrix had supplanted many of Harry's memories of the older, more wicked, version of Bellatrix. However, old and wicked Bellatrix was not a memory easily erased, nor were the impressions the original Bellatrix had left on Harry. There was also the fact that romancing students was completely against the rules for Hogwarts staff members.

"Anyway," Bellatrix said, "the last thing we need is you signing a marriage contract that could curtail any privileges you might already have. On the other hand, the marriage contract could formally give you an unimpeachable identity in our society and confirm your being an English subject. You would of course take the Black surname, unless of course, your real surname is better."

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure it doesn't especially matter."

"I see," Bellatrix said, frowning. "Well, anyway, it's very fortunate that my father has become Minister of Magic… thanks to your manipulations."

"Your uncle's manipulations, actually," Harry corrected.

"I think you underestimate the effect you've had on our world," Bellatrix said. "You may be older than I am, but I still predate you. Thus, I still know more about some things than you."

"Yeah, whatever," Harry said, turning his attention from her and straining to hear any sounds signifying that the pig and rooster were still alive. A faint 'oink' from the pig confirmed its status among the living.

"As I was saying," Bellatrix continued, her voice rising just enough to draw Harry's attention back to her, "my father, the Minister, will be able to pull strings. It's just a matter of you manipulating him and my uncle. They already want to give you a position in the Ministry. It won't be hard for you to manipulate them into getting you quickly promoted through the ranks. You have knowledge about the dark lord that no one has. You'll quickly prove your value. I wouldn't advise going into Magical Law Enforcement, though. I'm sure the work is rewarding, but climbing their career ladder will be tough. Don't get me wrong, you'll certainly become Minister of Magic no matter which department you start in, but I'd like that to be before you're fifty."

"Yeah, okay," Harry said, only half listening to her drone on.

"As for what I can get out of my father," Bellatrix continued, pressing past Harry's obvious disinterest in the conversation, "I reckon we could get the contract negotiated and the marriage solemnized before I start seventh-year. Summer is always ideal for weddings, and we'll have enough times to consult the goblins about your unique Black status-without my family knowing what we're doing."

Harry did a double take. "What? Are you saying we should get married this summer? They don't just let random Hogwarts students get married to former professors. And what about there being even a hint of a romantic relationship?"

"My mother is going to cause trouble for sure, though," Bellatrix said darkly, ignoring Harry's shock and statements of protest. "You're not known as being rich, nor known as being an especially prominent pureblood. Not like the Lestranges, anyway." She was silent as she ruminated upon the subject of her mother.

Harry no longer wanted to participate in the conversation, but he could also see that she was dwelling on some unhappy thoughts. "So, trouble with your mother?"

"She's a piece of work," Bellatrix said, "she and my aunt."

"I see," said Harry, thinking back to the portrait of Sirius's mother he had confronted on numerous occasions. "I always got the feeling that you weren't on the best of terms with either of them." He couldn't really say that was entirely the case, but as he thought back, he could see where he might have inferred the fact.

"You have no idea," Bellatrix grumbled.

"What did they do," Harry asked, half in jest, "beat you?"

Bellatrix gave him a very annoyed look. "The pig and rooster seem okay. Let's go look at our kill." She stood and wandered around the walls Harry had transfigured toward the basilisk.

"I'm sorry," Harry called, backpedaling as he made to follow her, "I guess that's not that funny. I'm not trying to make light of bad parents or anything. You know, my aunt and uncle raised me and they were total jerks." He rounded the wall and found Bellatrix poking the dead basilisk's head with her foot.

"Yeah, it's dead," Bellatrix said. "Its eyes are even glazed over, too, so we probably don't need to worry about that."

"Wonderful," said Harry, surveying the corpse.

Bellatrix sighed. "We got a small fortune in potion ingredients here, but I just don't have the desire to deal with it tonight."

"It's a highly magical creature," Harry said. "It'll keep."

"Good point," Bellatrix nodded. "We can leave the chamber open down here and rig the bathroom entrance to open for non-parselmouths who have the specific password. I'll come down here when I have the time and motivation to do disgusting work."

"Awesome," said Harry, beginning to be very grossed out after staring at the dead basilisk. He didn't want to have anything to do with cutting it up and turning it into ingredients for anything.

"Yep," said Bellatrix. "Grab the pig and chicken, and we can get out of here."

"You don't want to leave them here?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "They'll probably cause trouble if we leave them."

It took a little maneuvering, but Harry and Bellatrix were soon in the bathroom and being eyeballed by Moaning Myrtle. "Did you kill it?" she asked, squinting at Harry and Bellatrix in an attempt to ascertain their identities. She was unsuccessful, however. They had cast disguise charms on themselves as they had flown the broomstick up the pipe.

"Yeah," said Harry, "it's dead, but let's keep it a secret for now. In fact, let's make you the chief guardian of the secret. Do you think you're up for it?"

Bellatrix snorted, apparently finding the conversation amusing. She didn't participate because she was busy casting a number of charms on the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets so that she could open it herself later.

"Of course," Myrtle said, her eagerness clearly reflected on her face.

"Great," said Harry. "Now, the only people you can tell anything about what has happened tonight are people who already know that the monster has been killed. They can't guess that it's dead, they have to know that it's been killed."

"Right," said Myrtle. "Killed. I promise to keep the secret."

"I think that concludes our business here," Bellatrix said as the entrance to the pipe closed up at her command. She kicked the pig they had levitated up the pipe with them and nudged it toward the entrance, the chicken under one of her arms.

Harry waved goodbye to Myrtle and followed Bellatrix as she exited the bathroom with the animals. They were soon standing out in the dark, empty corridor. Bellatrix handed Harry the chicken. "I think it's up to you to dispose of the chicken," Bellatrix announced. "Maybe you can give it to the gamekeeper… or the house elves in the kitchen."

"All right," Harry said, accepting the chicken. "What about the pig?"

"I'll take care of it," Bellatrix said to Harry.

"What are you planning?" Harry asked, curious as to why Bellatrix would want to keep a pig.

"If you keep your ears open, you might hear about it tomorrow," Bellatrix said.

Minerva McGonagall rode the stairs up to Albus Dumbledore's office, deep in thought. When she found herself facing the door to the aged headmaster's office, she knocked and entered to find Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. Alastor Moody sat in a chair in the corner, lounging casually.

"Professor," Alastor said by way of greeting, standing and nodding.

"Minerva," Albus smiled, proffering the bowl of lemon drops. "Thank you for coming."

"I was intrigued by your invitation," McGonagall said, accepting a lemon drop and taking one of the many seats that had been set up around the office. "Before more of your guests arrive, I wondered if I might ask a question."

"Of course," Albus said, spreading his hands, signifying his acquiescence.

Minerva leaned back in her seat. "Do you know of any way that a male student could get into the female dorms in Gryffindor Tower by somehow bypassing the protections?"

"I personally know of no way," Dumbledore said. "Why?"

"This morning," Minerva declared, "Miss Evans woke to find herself cuddling a pig."

"A pig?" Alastor asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," Minerva said dryly, "a full-sized pig that licked her face and made disgusting pig noises, causing her great distress and consternation."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled, "How extraordinary."

"How disgusting!" McGonagall said, correcting the headmaster. "The usual suspects have denied everything, citing the fact that they are completely unable to enter the female dorms. Unless it can be established that it is possible for males to get up there, they'll walk free."

Dumbledore shrugged and looked toward his office door expectantly. Almost immediately, a knock sounded, signifying the arrival of another person. "Enter," Dumbledore called.

The door opened to admit a man who appeared to be of a similar age to that of Dumbledore himself. The headmaster smiled warmly. "Elphias, how good of you to come. Minerva, Alastor, this you may or may not know is Elphias Doge. Elphias, this is Minerva McGonagall, my deputy, and Alastor Moody, an auror held in high esteem."

Elphias smiled. "Their reputations precede them."

Before he was seated, another knock sounded, marking the arrival of Caradoc Dearborn. Introductions resume and before they had concluded, Emmeline Vance arrived. Before long, Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon arrived. With their arrival, each of the chairs in the headmaster's office became occupied, and introductions were complete.

Conversation ceased as Dumbledore stood and held up his arms to signify that he wished to speak. He smiled at those gathered. "Friends," he said, "Alastor and I have asked each of you here because of your talents, your reputations, and your personalities. More importantly, we've asked you here because we know that each of you is the sort to do what you view as being right." Dumbledore scanned the faces before him, trying to gauge the prevailing atmosphere. Some of the guests looked curious, others seemed resigned, and others were thoughtful.

Dumbledore took a breath and continued. "I think I would be correct in saying that each of you has observed in the past months, even in the past year, the increasing lack of peace and civil order our country has witnessed. The rising generation is unruly and walking on the edge of disaster. The Ministry under various administrations is partly to blame. Because of its corruption, many of these problems have been left unchecked. Because of the corruption of previous administrations, the self-styled Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has been able to seize the reins of the government."

Caradoc Dearborn's eyes widened slightly, and he coughed with surprise. "Are you suggesting that we rebel against Minister Black?" he asked, disbelief and outrage evident in his voice.

"No, I am not," Dumbledore said sharply. "I am merely stating the facts."

"Then, please, continue," Emmeline Vance said.

"In the time since being installed into office, Minister Black has been busy," Dumbledore continued. "Davian Prewitt has been appointed Director of Magical Law Enforcement, and his budget has been substantially increased with emergency funds. Minister Black's proposed budget for the upcoming year shows that Director Prewitt's funding will not only continue, but increase."

Marlene McKinnon shook her head sadly. "What is he up to?"

"War, quite obviously," Ephias Doge declared.

"But against who?" Dorcas Meadowes asked.

"That is the mystery," Alastor Moody growled. "That's why we're here."

Dumbledore sighed resignedly. "It is not entirely a mystery anymore," he declared.

Alastor looked at Dumbledore with surprise. "I didn't realize you had gotten to the bottom of the matter already."

"I apologize, Alastor," Dumbledore said solemnly. "I only came across my information very recently. I assumed that telling you tonight along with everyone else would suffice, seeing that I have been very pressed for time in the days since my discovery."

"Continue, by all means," Moody said, dismissively waving his hand to signify that he was not offended in any way.

"By way of background," Dumbledore said, "I would call your attention to the appointment of Director Prewitt to his current position. One would assume that if a Black wished to wage a morally questionable war, he or she would appoint someone else to that key position. Yet, Minister Black chose Prewitt. This led me to the question of why . My conclusion is that the Black family knows something about our present difficulties that I do not."

Caradoc shook his head slowly. "That may be, but discovering their motivation will not be easy."

"But it is slightly easier than you would think," Dumbledore told the group at large. "As a part of their attempt to manage the situation, Orion Black has arranged for a young man named Harry Ashworth to temporarily assume a teaching position at Hogwarts. Mr. Ashworth is somewhat cognizant of the inner workings of the Black family."

"I see where you're going," Marlene McKinnon said, nodding.

Dumbledore nodded. "You are as perceptive as ever, Marlene." He shared a small smile with Alastor. "I recently had the opportunity to confront Mr. Ashworth and make some inquiries."

Dorcas held up her hand to interrupt Dumbledore. "Is this the same Ashworth who made headlines during the Christmas holidays for breaking up a public disturbance?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, confirming Dorcas's thought. "After I pressed Mr. Ashworth quite firmly, he finally saw fit to admit what it is that has the Black family so stirred up-and may I note, stirred up enough to go against their grain and boldly insert themselves into Ministry politics."

"Well, what is it?" Emmeline asked.

"It has come to the attention of the Black family that another dark lord is on the rise," Dumbledore announced in a quiet, deliberate voice. "Even now, they are preparing the Ministry's defenses to wage war against this nameless dark lord."

Professor Dumbledore's announcement was met with exclamations of surprise, shock, and disbelief.

"Surely it isn't so," Minerva breathed, her horror quite obvious.

Once the noise in the room settled enough for Dumbledore speak, he addressed the comments of doubt and disbelief. "Ashworth's information only confirms what I should have logically concluded," Dumbledore said. "It all makes sense. It explains everything odd that has happened of late." He then went on to make the case for the dark lord's existence."

"Well?" said Caradoc after Dumbledore finished making his proof of the dark lord's existence. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Move carefully," Dumbledore said, "but surely. I support Minister Black's effort to defend from and put down this dark lord, but I fear his efforts may not be enough. The Ministry's experiences with prior dark lords serve as testament to that thought. I propose that we start a private association, the purpose of which will be to oppose the dark lord and provide assistance to those wishing to bring him down. I think we might suitably call it the Order of the Phoenix."

Moody watched as the last of Dumbledore's guests departed the headmaster's office, leaving him and Albus alone. It was then that he spoke to the aging headmaster who was in the process of sucking on a lemon drop. "I think the meeting was a success," he declared.

Dumbledore nodded, biting down and finishing off the lemon-flavored candy. "Indeed. I only hope the Order can prove useful. It won't be enough for those employed by the Ministry to make a career of fighting the dark lord. It must become the hobby of as many people as we can recruit."

"Are you going to recruit, Ashworth?" Moody asked, half in jest. "He certainly seems to know more than anyone about our situation, excepting the Black patriarchs themselves."

"No," said Dumbledore, "not recruit, though perhaps exploit as a source of information and as a connection to Minister Black."

"You're the one who has been so willing to think the best of him," Moody said, pointing out the irony of the situation. "Wouldn't you want to bring him in the Order and give him a chance to prove himself? He could become quite an asset to the Order. He's slimy, but that could be useful for us."

Dumbledore frowned. "When I extracted the information about the dark lord from Ashworth, he did his best to leave me thinking that he was naught but a pawn of the Black family, his fortune tossed upon the winds and waves of their politics as he tried to do what was reasonable for everyone and for his survival."

"What's wrong with that?" Moody asked.

"On the chessboard, I think he ranks much higher than he would have me believe," Dumbledore observed, reaching for another lemon drop.

"Ashworth! Ashworth!"

Harry blinked groggily, as he was woken from a deep sleep. Squinting, he reached for his watch on his bedside table and checked the time. It was four o'clock in the morning.

"Ashworth!"

The loud voice seemed to be coming from his main sitting room. Rolling out of bed and slipping on a bathrobe, Harry hurried into the bedroom to find Romulus Malfoy's head floating in the fire, its flames burning green. As soon as Romulus caught sight of Harry, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Ashworth," he said urgently, his eyes meeting Harry's. "You must come to Cygnus's office at the Ministry immediately!"

"Why?" Harry asked, his heart beginning to race. "What has happened?"

Romulus sighed, and looked away from Harry, almost as if he didn't believe what he was about to say. "Orion is dead. It looks like he died in his sleep; but Harry, I'm not convinced."