White Heather for Protection

Slithering Serpents

Lying on the floor was a deathly still Justin Finch-Fletchley, staring vacantly. Floating next to him was an abnormally shadowy Nearly-Headless Nick.

Heather grasped her brother's hand tightly and looked away from the ghastly sight. Her gaze happened to land on a trail of spiders scuttling away. Too shocked to ponder the oddity, she made an aborted attempt to step away.

But they couldn't just leave them like this. Her brother was of the same mind and he cast a Mobilicorpus on the stiff Puff. Heather didn't know what to do with the ghost. He couldn't be moved with spells and she didn't want to risk touching him.

In the end, they decided to focus on the still-living student and sprinted towards the infirmary with him hovering behind. They could afford to leave the ghost for later.

~~~

They were brought into the Headmaster's office. Whether as key witnesses or prime suspects, Heather didn't know.

The office was, as yet, empty of all but Fawkes. She had met the phoenix familiar the last time she'd been called to this office - to explain the whole Quirrell debacle. The bird had been in his full glory then. Now, he looked like a decrepit mass of fluff. Burning Day was soon upon him; perhaps it would even be today. Maybe they would be able to witness it?

Heather hummed soothingly at the fidgety old bird. The phoenix settled down into his nest of shed plumage and tried to warble in tune with her. Even wobbly and breathless, the phoenix song brought forth feelings of joy and serenity.

Hadrian gasped in awe. Fawkes had erupted into brilliant golden flames during his song, as if giving a farewell performance. The melody somehow still carried on until all that was left was a mound of ashes.

Hadrian's eyes shone excitedly as he watched the phoenix die in preparation for his rebirth. "Wow, that was amazing."

"Indeed, it always is."

Heather and her brother turned around to see the Headmaster sitting at his desk as if he had been there all along.

"Wondrous, isn't it? Burning only to rise from their ashes," the aged wizard said, eyeing the tiny chick Fawkes shaking soot from his body.

At their murmurs of agreement, the Headmaster beamed kindly, blue eyes twinkling. "Now, on to business, shall we? Truly unfortunate, what happened to Mr Finch-Fletchley. Could you tell me what happened?"

Heather let her brother explain, from the chat with the badgers to encountering the petrified boy and ghost. She was content to observe the Headmaster. As expected, his face gave nothing away, placidly curious.

"That is...most worrying," Professor Dumbledore said after Rian was done. "Thank you for your discretion. It was most helpful in preventing panic among the students."

It also had the distinct advantage of preventing others from accusing her brother of wrongdoing. At least the Headmaster wasn't as foolish as that.

Staring solemnly at Hadrian, the other wizard asked, "Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary lately? Anything at all?"

Heather turned her head slowly to the right, appearing to observe Fawkes. Her brother took it as the refusal it was and conveyed his absolute cluelessness.

~~~

Oh, Heather didn't doubt that Albus Dumbledore was a good man - his phoenix was living (and dying and living...) proof of that. But good didn't equate saintly or pure. What was good on the whole wasn't necessarily good for her Hadrian. She didn't trust the old wizard not to use her brother as some sort of tracker for the serpent if he found out about the voice only Rian could hear.

For Slytherin's Monster was definitely a serpent of sorts. It was only logical for Slytherin to have a familiar he could communicate with. What had really confirmed her suspicions, though, was what Hadrian had said to her the other day.

{Rip...tear...kill...sssoo hungry...}

He had unknowingly spoken Parseltongue, repeating the words as he'd heard them.

What kind of serpent was the crux now. There were several snakelike creatures known to wizardkind.

Naga was the first that came to mind. Half-human, half-snake. Highly poisonous and very long-lived. But they could not petrify.

Then there were gorgons. Monstrous females with snakes for hair. A single gaze upon one would turn the victim to stone. Closer, but in this case the petrified were all still flesh and blood, not granite.

Next, of course, was the basilisk. Widely considered the king of serpents, it was a humongous snake hatched from a chicken egg that was incubated by a toad. Aside from its extremely potent venom, it had a literally deadly gaze. Yet, no one had been killed.

If it weren't for a few key considerations, Heather would have dismissed the idea out of hand. The fleeing spiders, the killed roosters. Those couldn't be mere coincidences.

Heather wouldn't let Headmaster Dumbledore shepherd Hadrian into hunting a Merlin-be-damned basilisk.

Somehow, all the victims had escaped with their lives (or afterlife) intact. All they needed was a Mandrake Restorative Draught. Perhaps the basilisk was weakened, trapped for centuries as it had been. Perhaps it was old age, it was probably well beyond its life expectancy by now. Whatever the cause, Heather would take no chances. The basilisk was growing in strength.

It was time to ensure Hadrian knew certain spells. She would make sure he could do them wandless - and bound - if necessary.