Tears of a Basilisk

Journal entry the second





I hope I won't have to resort to using a dicta-quill. Ever since that annoying bug Rita Skeeter I haven't been able to stand the sight of them. If my hands get too shaky to write clearly, I might have no other option. Hm, I could always try to make a spell for it, like voice recognition software for computers. Anyway, since this is the second entry, let us chat about my second year. The events leading up to that point, my stay with the Durstleys and first year, are fairly minor in comparison, and I will cover them anyway throughout the journal. My second year at Hogwarts started out much like the first, ie I was bewildered and in a state of perpetual confusion. Having grown up thinking magic involved top hats, rabbits, and pulling money out of various body parts, I was naturally in a state of culture shock. Of course, no one noticed or cared and treated me like some type of imbecile because I had no knowledge of the nuances of the wizarding world. I was used to that by this point, so I tuned it out while giving them the reactions and answers they expected. It does no good to anger people who know more about your past than you, and who have power over your continued existence. I knew right away Lockhart had even less magic than the top hat-rabbit magicians that would perform at Dudders' birthday parties. Kept that tidbit to myself, since showing an argumentative side and/or showing that I wasn't one of the sheep after all would have made my life even harder. I know that I sound like a pure Slytherin, well, the Hat was more right than it knew in its desire to put me in that house, but I would likely have died very quickly in that house at the hands of the traitorous public, so after much arguing and persuasion I got the Hat to put me in Gryffindor. How did I do that, you might wonder? I just convinced the Hat that putting the ultimate Slytherin in Gryffindor would fit with the archetype, get to know one's enemies in their own den.





I digress, the real drama in my second year started when I began hearing the basilisk. Yes, I knew it was a basilisk, and I've known I was a Speaker since I was five. We had some interesting conversations, the basilisk and I. He told me that someone, a red haired girl with a possessed look in her eyes was going around hitting people with stunning and petrifying spells, blaming it on "Slytherin's Monster". Sylvain, that would be the basilisk's name, was concerned that someone, especially the students, might get seriously hurt or killed, and asked me if I would help him find out how the girl, who I deduced to be Ginny Weasley, was being controlled, and by whom. Turns out Sylvain was right, it was only a matter of time before the possessor escalated. I had the presence of mind to follow Ginny in secret, and that is the only reason that Colin Creevey lives to this day. I saw that Ginny certainly wasn't in the driver's seat of her own body, but I was still shocked to hear her lips begin to utter the Killing Curse. Unable to stop the curse from leaving her wand, I instead jumped in front of Colin and took the full force of the amateurish but still powerful Avada Kevadra. Disbelief, I'm sure, is all over your expression, so I shall reveal yet another one of my secrets: Due to my heritage, which even then I was partially aware of through my own research, I am one of the only creatures to have an immunity to the killing curse. I won't reveal how I found this out, at least yet, it's fairly inconsequential at the moment. With Colin now out of death's way, the Ginny creature looked confused that the curse disappeared into seeming thin air (thank you invisibility cloak), and resorted to the petrifying spell. I knew that I had to talk with Sylvain about this latest development, so I started looking around for an entrance into Slytherin's chamber. I did this in between schoolwork and classes, chatting with Sylvain in my spare moments when I had some time to myself.







Things went fairly calmly for a while, I kept following Ginny and talking with Sylvain, until the fateful day of Lockhart's dueling club. It was great to see my dear Professor Snape hex that man back to the 8th century, but things went downhill from that point. When I was called to duel Draco, I was apprehensive on how I should act. From my research, I knew battle spells that would shame most Aurors, but completely trouncing the Malfoy heir seemed like a phenomenally stupid thing to do. What little pride I had left at that point balked at letting him beat me, so I was still lost in thought when Draco sealed my fate in the eyes of the public by casting Serpentsortia. Distracted as I was, I forgot that Speaking was viewed as evil in these days, and my constant exposure to Sylvain, who is a wonderfully smart, sarcastic, entertaining person, I Spoke to the poor summoned snake, who was confused and disoriented enough to try attacking a human out of self-defense. That was my last unintentional foolish act, any other actions of mine that seemed foolish or stupid were actually calculated to have that effect. I was used to not having humans on my side, but the next few months were extremely trying. I almost hexed those traitors Ron and Hermione with their constant hate-spewing on snakes, Slytherins, and Speakers in general. That incident, as horrible as it was, did have one positive aspect: it revealed to me the person who was controlling poor Ginny, who along with the twins are the only Weasleys to have brains of their owns. The person was not the specter of a young Tom Marvolo Riddle, as the official version states, but none other than the oh-so-great meddling old coot, Albus Dumbledore. Shock, disbelief, yes, yes, I know, it's hard to believe, but true. It was all a setup to give me another chance to act as the "Saviour of the Wizarding World", although my being a Speaker threw him for a loop. When I found this out, rather than take the action most would expect of a Gryffindor, accusing the man and trusting that the wheels of justice would turn swiftly and bring the guilty to justice, I decided to play along. Knowing what he was up to gave me the ability to manipulate the situation to my own desire, giving me the chance to break free of his direct control by altering aspects of the game.





According to his version, I took Ron and Lockhart into the Chamber after figuring out where it was, where Lockhart was accidentally obliviated and a tunnel collapse separated us. That much is largely true, except Lockhart wasn't accidentally memory-charmed. It felt good to finally hex that prat. I caused the tunnel collapse as well, I didn't want to meet Sylvain face to face with the Weasley brat tagging along. So I entered the Chamber, where I found Ginny passed out but otherwise well and a very concerned Sylvain hovering over her. He told me that he had found her unconscious near the Chamber entrance in the Forbidden Forest, so he brought her into the chamber hoping that I would arrive soon. I know that in this narrative I have stated my general distaste for humans, and it may seem strange that I would want to rescue one at personal risk. However, she is not only a human, but a Hogwarts student, which makes all the difference to me. Anyway, what neither of us had realized was that she was basically one big booby trap, for when I touched her arm to see if she was still okay, her body was still in Dumbledore's control. She reflexively stabbed me in the arm with a poisoned dagger, and not just any poison but none other than basilisk venom. At this point, according to the official version Fawkes (who in reality was nowhere in sight) healed me with phoenix tears and carried us all to safety after I killed the big nasty snake. Heh. In reality I laid there, dying of the concentrated venom with a near hysterical basilisk trying to help me and a young girl who had apparently fulfilled her mission and was now unconscious, but free of the possession.





Even though, for a brief amount of time, the venom was killing me, there was no way old Dumbles could have foreseen the results of his actions. When most creatures are under extreme stress, quite often abilities that they were unaware of kick in. Mothers can lift cars to save their infants, warriors can still fight even though their injuries should be fatal, and so forth. In my case, it awoke several of my non-human-magical creature heritages., in addition to unlocking memories and knowledge that no one would expect me to have. Yes, I am not wholly human, and very proud of that fact. Yes, both James and Lily Potter were fully human. Do the math yourself. I suppose that my Speaking scared old Dumbles to the point where he thought it would be better to get rid of me entirely, rather than try to continue the "Saviour" guise. No one would believe that a Speaker was the hope of the Wizarding World. Anyway, my newly awakened blood gifts quickly neutralized the venom, and I realized in that moment what my role would be in the upcoming years. My path was made clear to me, and never once did I hesitate. Once I calmed Sylvain down, we sat and decided what story I should present to good ole Dumbles. Using my new gifts, I transformed Sylvain into a phoenix that could be Fawkes' doppelganger, we gathered the humans together and the 'escape', as well as following events, went according to the official version. Not much happened after that, even going back to the Durstleys' was tempered by Sylvain's visits, and our occasional outings of which the Order was completely ignorant. Restraining him from eating the horse, whale, and walrus was tricky at times, especially since I was tempted myself. But things went as they always did, and I think that is it for this entry. If I'm up to it, I might tackle the entirety of third year in the next entry, but it wasn't nearly as eventful as year four, which I'll most likely have to split up into two entries.







Everything I thought I knew was thrown into sharp relief as the lies they are with the irrefutable but curious truths written here. What magic can turn a basilisk into a phoenix, with all the phoenix gifts, and what creature heritage did he have? I am transcribing his journal as I read it myself for the first time, only adding a few impressions and reactions of my own, so I have no idea what gifts and powers he had. I can't help but wonder, even with the journal and few notes left behind, what knowledge and skills died with him, never to be recalled. More tragedy added to this already tragic tale, in which we are all characters. Apparently he thought higher of myself than I thought, surprising to say the least considering how I treated him over the years. I do not doubt a single word that he has written, the tale he tells, combined with his final moments, is enough to show the official accounts of events and the people involved as the fallacies they are. I will take this task up tomorrow, it is past late and I know that my sleep will be haunted by a boy young in physical age only, enduring trials that would have killed or broken most everyone. I've exhausted my supply of dreamless sleep, and dare not brew any more, so the shadows that haunt my sleep will have free reign to torment my dreamscapes. I wish I could say that I didn't deserve it on some level, but that comfort is denied to me. I deserve far worse.



-S.S.