Tears of a Basilisk

Journal entry the fifteenth.


The sweet taste of success. I am almost to the point of complete and utter exhaustion, but I have at least another month before I have to do anything on the bloody rite. With all modesty, damn I'm good. I don't think that I could have pulled this off without the memories and powers from both Harry and Salazar, so in a strange way I suppose I have Dumbles to thank for aiding me in this, hastening his own downfall by a considerable margin.


Now that everything is squared away at the moment, I find that I am at a loss with what to do with myself. I really do not want to get involved in any student activities, and I can't really play too many gigs one after the other. Sylvain's been trying to get me to go out more often, and as much as I value our friendship he's been getting on my nerves. I think I should humour him, but where should I go. There aren't any major events that I'm aware of, and I want to shirk the spotlight a bit. Wait, I know, I've got to check but that would be perfect. Back when I walked as Salazar, there would be Council gatherings at about this time every year.


What is the Council, many might wonder. Well, first of all, humans are not the only intelligent sociable beings to walk the planet, they just have opposable thumbs standard. The Council was formed long before I was born, and was a way for representatives from various magical creature communities to gather and share information, form strategies and alliances for whatever conflict might be happening, and have a bloody good time. If I haven't missed it, I could easily attend as a Druidic representative at least. Of the humans, only those of Druid stock are permitted in the council because of their generally neutral standing and respect of balance. Wizards and muggles need not apply, any that show up will likely be invited to dinner. This doesn't sound too bad, except that the human would be the main course, maybe appetizer and dessert as well f there are enough of them. Half or cross-breeds might be accepted if they pass registration, that's left to an individual basis.


Yes, that would be perfect, all other creatures would respect the status that my robes reflect, and my past will not come up. Throw in my status as one of the only true Bards to exist, and I'll be quite the VIP. Hell, by now I'm probably related in some way to a good number of representatives anyway, it will be a family reunion of sorts. I wonder if the Naga-im will send a representative. That would be wonderful if they did, I'd love to catch up with them. I'll ask Sylvain to ask around about that, it would get him off my back for a bit. I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with Dobby's good-natured but smothering attention, throw in a super-protective basilisk who uses his time as pseudo-Hedwig to keep a close eye on me and it's a bit much.


Well, that was a good bit of rambling and train of thought writing, methinks 'tis time to move on with my saga. Let us see, in the last round I decided to cover some time as Harry, so we shall move on to the age of the Founders. It seems that no truthful account of the early days of Hogwarts had survived even to the Renaissance. I'm glad in a way that Rowena isn't around to witness the tragic loss of all the records that she painstakingly gathered and recorded, it would break her heart. For such a large tale, I think we should start at the beginning, which is usually a good place to start anyway.


As a merry band of performers, rogues, occasional thieves, and such, we wandered around much of Europe at the time, far more than most Dark Age denizens could ever dream. Along the way, we practiced our various skills and trades, but by far the most important, yet most secretive, skill we traded was magic instruction to various wizards and witches we would encounter. Most of these had no idea what they were or why they were able to do what they could, so we provided a valuable resource. In many ways, this is when Hogwarts was founded. I refer to Hogwarts as a castle and sanctuary at times, but that's only due to the amount of care we poured into its construction. Really, Hogwarts is the concept that people can learn about their magic in a safe environment, without fear or prejudice. The school as it stands today is just the logical extrapolation of that concept. The spirit of Hogwarts, after centuries of belief and acceptance, is tied almost exclusively to the physical castle, but it's not strictly necessary.


After a few years of wandering, we grew to desire a more sedentary life. Not a soul among us wanted to stop with our magical instruction, which quickly became our main function and tradeable skill, so we pondered the situation for some time. It was Rowena, naturally, that came up with the concept of a school exclusively for magic-users. She was the only one of us that ever went to a formal school, Helga and Godric were briefly home-educated and I was group-tutored for much of my early life, so the thought of a school wasn't immediately apparent to us. Once the idea formed, it seemed like a natural conclusion. From our travels and exploits we were each sitting on a sizable hoard that we had stashed with the goblins. Interesting fact for you dear readers, Gringotts used to be an exclusively goblin bank, and the only reason that they agreed to store our money for us was my familial connections through the Naga-im side.


Now that we had an idea of what we wanted to accomplish, the most difficult part lay in front of us: finding a suitable location tolerant of magical messing-around. By this point, we had explored much of Europe as well as our own isles, but we could not think of a place that fit our admittedly strict criteria. Ultimately it was Helga that found the present-day site of Hogwarts, she was the most magically sensitive and intuitive of the troupe. We trusted her judgment, so we all sat down to work out our strategy for not only getting a castle built, but the blueprints, goals of the finished school, potential staff and students. That took ages, but was well worth it. The fruits of our labours stands still to this very day while our immediate opponents of the time are all long gone. It saddens me when I see the lack of teamwork prevalent throughout the student body, and even the professors. If only they knew how closely we all cared for each other and the extreme levels of trust and support we demonstrated, things might be different. Eh, I don't have enough energy to waste on what-ifs, even if I do have some free time.


Ah, a song that just came on reminded me of all the fun I had last night. The brothel prank was all I could have hoped for and more. Some of the people were just walking down the street completely naked and not caring in the least. One guy tried to get on his motorcycle and rev it up completely starkers. There was much screaming and whimpering that followed. Yet another naked man, whom was obviously extremely intoxicated, stumbled into the pub where I was watching the fiasco and tried to feel up everyone in there, myself included. He actually did wonders for my reputation. When he approached me, the first thing he did was grab my crotch. I was too busy laughing to stop him, and the wide eyes when he succeeded in his mission, coupled with the “Holy Mother of God” he uttered and appreciative whistle made everyone in the pub look at me with awe. Of course I gave them all my classic smirk and pushed the drunk, naked, and by now highly aroused man to the floor. He followed me when I tried to leave, so to get him off my case, and to relieve a bit of stress, I let him give me a decent blowjob in front of the pub. Poor guy, he was desperate to do so, and I do give to charities after all. It wasn't the best I'd ever had, but it was enough for the moment, and he was so happy that he didn't even jerk himself off before stumbling down the street. I wonder what eventually happened to him. Maybe I'll check the papers.


Sylvain just returned from his hunting (he has grown to love his owl form so much that I gave him the ability to switch back and forth. Apparently it's far easier to fill himself up in owl form, far less food needed), so I think I'll propose the idea of heading to the Council. My only trial coming in the near future, if I do head off to the gathering, is trying to convince Dobby that he needn't accompany me. For a supposedly subservient house elf, he has a stubborn streak a mile wide. I'd rather slam my head against the wall than try to argue with him, so we'll see what develops there.


Bloody crow. Merlin-blasted bird. I found the answer to my question, birds do not get hangovers. At least, if they do, they don't show it. The first thing we all heard when we woke up, seeing as we all passed out in my chambers the previous night, was an unnaturally loud, shrill cawing. That might have been not so bad, except the bloody bird did it RIGHT. BY. MY. EAR. Needless to say, I was not amused. A small, insignificant part of me almost pities the first class I had today, I will confess that I was in an understandably fowl mood, pun intended.


For the first time since I began this trial of endurance, I know something of an event that he references, even if by a different name. I always heard of this Council as the Dark Revel, and for those wizards who have even heard of such a thing, it is usually viewed as a gathering of evil nasties that go bump in the night. Of course, nothing is ever that black and white, but the public refuses to believe that simple concept. Individuals can be intelligent, reasonable, and insightful, but people as a group are idiotic, gullible, panicky creatures that should be kept away from pointy objects.


I digress, let me resume with what little I know about the Dark Revel. According to wizard lore, which seems to hold many gross inaccuracies and oversights, the Revel is a gathering of Dark creatures at certain times of the year, and is a source of potential allies that dark wizards can draw from. Of course, there is no documented case of anyone ever heading to the gathering and returning in one piece (I found one notable exception in the 1600s where the wizard returned tied to the back of his own horse. He was still alive technically, but his tongue was cut out and limbs all removed. Attached to him was a note stating that the group of wizards should send someone with a little more meat on their bones and leprosy-free) , so most of the information comes from secondary sources. I hope that, at some point, he covers his time with the Council if he managed to go. To have a reliable primary source of information would be invaluable. Progress is being made with the whole Dark creature legislation at the ministry, for all his faults Lucius is doing quite well in the Minister of Magic role, but any information would aid in the process. I think that Harry would be proud that many of the old restrictions have already been overturned, and true legal equality is within reach.


I will kill that bloody bird one of these days. I can't even be left alone to jot down a few notes, it is currently flying around the room, occasionally diving down, grazing my head, and returns back to circling while doing that highly annoying bird-laugh. I'm even starting to see things, I swear that bird just executed a perfect Wronski feint while attacking a stack of books on my table. Sleep deprivation plays tricks on the mind, after all. I think I'll cut this short, I can't take it right now. I will chase that bloody bird out of my quarters by any means necessary, even if it means breaking out my old broom, which is currently a dust magnet in my closet. So help me, I will not be outsmarted and terrorized by something that, according to Dumas, can be added to a rich stock to improve colour and flavour. At this point I would even settle pointing it towards another victim. Ah, that idea has merit. Let it chase one of the other professors, or even any of the seventh years. How to pull this plan off, that is the question. I should be able to resolve this to my satisfaction shortly, and perhaps I could get a decent night's rest.