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  This chapter was edited by Gdiusx. Check his works on HP and ASOIAF, I highly recommend them.

  “Yes, Missy Grungy, Leeney, and the others work here of their own freewill, no one is forcing us. With no wizard or magic pce, we go mad and die. No, Missy Grungy, we would rather not be paid, and Leeney doesn’t know what you mean with benefits.” The elf replied in the most deadpan voice it could muster after answering the same question so many times now.

  Harry groaned as Hermione continued asking the same sets of questions with only a slight difference for the fourth time in the past hour. Although his groan could have been because of the second serving of delicious mash that he had just finished. On the side was a pte with an entire skeleton of what must have been an enormous trout, cleanly eaten.

  “Oh, y off already, Hermione. The poor elves have better things to do than repeat themselves to you. What exactly is the issue here?”

  Harry finished his mash and gulped down an entire gss of lemon juice before looking for his favourite treacle tart, finding it next to a pot of tea and an empty cup.

  “But-but, this is almost like svery!”

  Harry was already stuffing his face, though, and was seriously wondering why he was so damn hungry!

  “Svery? They get a roof under their heads, and they get paid in magic. As far as I know, they are not being bought or sold like cattle and can leave any time, Isn’t that right Leeney?”

  “Yes, Harry Potterer, sir,” the elf bobbed its little head happily, and Hermione scowled.

  Before Harry could swallow his bite, a commotion was heard. He and Hermione looked over to see an elf wrenching a pte of biscuits from another elf while elbowing him to the side and rushing over to their table. Harry smiled at the familiar face.

  “Harry Potter! How could you not tell Dobby you be hungry?” The elf sounded almost indignant as he pced the pte of biscuits next to his untouched tea. “Dobby be your personal elf, sir. If you be in need of anything, anything at all! Harry Potter must call Dobby!”

  The elf had his hands on his waist as he gred indignantly at his master, much to Harry’s amusement.

  Hermione had a bnk face, but Harry could see her lips and eye twitching.

  .

  .

  .

  “So, since when did you have such a voracious appetite?”

  “Since yesterday, it seems. I’m on my way to Madame Pomfrey to see if she can find out why,” Harry replied as they made their way up the marble staircase to the second floor.

  “You do that, then. Please make sure that you are alright, Harry?”

  He could feel the concern and vulnerability in her voice and gave her a one-handed side hug, “Don’t worry about me, Hermione. I’m actually feeling better than ever. Why, have you not noticed my ck of gsses?”

  “I did notice, but I had other things on my mind,” she muttered absentmindedly. “What happened?”

  Harry let go as they stopped as they reached the second floor. “That is what I am about to find out. If someone can tell me what is happening to me, it would be Madame Pomfrey. Afterwards, I’ll head on to where we discussed. Are you certain you don’t want to come?”

  “Positive. I spent a few weeks too much there, and I have no desire to go to that pce. If you are te, have Dobby leave me a note, will you?”

  “Alright, but please don’t forget to look into what I asked you.”

  “I will, don’t worry. See you then, Harry.” Hermione turned towards the library while Harry made his way to the Hospital Wing.

  ***

  He finished expining again to Pomfrey as he pulled back his shirt after she finished examining him.

  Poppy Pomfrey was an old woman Harry knew. How old was up to debate. Just that she looked at least thirty-five. Yet, with wizards, you never knew. Dumbledore looked to be in his sixties but was 111 years old if he remembered correctly.

  The school nurse waved her wand around, casting silently like Dumbledore did, and frowned.

  “Did you feel completely calm during your talk with the Headmaster st night?”

  “Not really, I was a bit emotional, I reckon.”

  “Did you feel tired and fatigued?”

  “I did, yeah. It was only after I ate I felt full of energy.”

  “And the hunger pangs?”

  “Since yesterday, I ate a lot of food in the Headmaster’s office and even more earlier, in the kitchens.”

  “How many servings have you eaten since then?” Looking at his confused face, Pomfrey added, “One serving is a standard filled bowl or pte.”

  “Errrrr, at least seventeen normal-sized servings with mostly meat, I think,” Harry replied, and he felt his cheeks redden.

  The school nurse only squinted her eyes for a moment.

  “I do not believe there’s anything wrong with you, Mr Potter,” she nodded to herself.

  “But eating so much is not normal, I don’t think I can keep it up all the time,” he protested.

  “There’s nothing to worry about, Mr Potter. It is unclear to me why or how, but you’ve entered a state of rapid growth, and your body is in dire need of sustenance. You’ve pulled up at least an inch since st night. But the changes all seem to be benign so far, so it’d be wise to let it run its course,” she concluded thoughtfully. “Of course, if there is any change for the worse, you should immediately come to me!”

  He let out a relieved sigh and nodded. It might be problematic to keep eating like that forever, but in Hogwarts, he had a practically endless supply of food.

  “What about my eyes?” Harry asked.

  “I have a good idea about that,” she hummed. “Not much is known about basilisk venom, but if I had to wager, it started destroying your eyes, possibly with whatever was ailing them. The phoenix tears neutralized the venom and restored them, thus granting you good eyesight.”

  “That simple?”

  “It only sounds simple, Mr Potter, but it is not. Even with Phoenix tears, Basilisk venom should not be so easily cured, especially after running in your body for so long. I already told you my only theory. But this is all just a conjecture, basilisk venom is not exactly a substance studied in the medical field. Not to mention that if the Basilisk was truly a thousand years old, it’s possible that it somehow mutated during its lifespan. I can do some more testing if you wish.”

  “Alright,” he agreed, curious to know what was happening in his own body.

  Pomfrey rummaged through a supplies bag Harry had not noticed before and finally held an empty vial in her hand

  “I’ll take seven drops of blood. Hold out your hand like this.”

  As he followed the instructions, she ran her wand over his forearm, cutting the skin open. A few crimson drops fell into the vial, and with another wave of her wand, his wound was healed. She brought another vial and shoved it to his face.

  “Now fill this one with spit. Thank you. I will ask you to wait here as it will take me some time, Mr Potter,” Pomfrey informed him before she headed towards her office.

  Harry stood on the bed, alone, uncertain of how long he must wait. He looked at his watch, yawned, and decided that a nap would not hurt. Ghost could use some company.

  ***

  Hermione tried to ignore the gossip of the older Ravencw girls at the nearby table, in vain. They were too loud. Several books were scattered books in front of her, one of them, House-Elves & Self-Hatred Volume 1, already closed and set to the side while she perused Transformation Through the Ages in an effort to find an answer to Harry’s question on self-transfiguration. Hermione was curious about why he needed to know that but refrained from asking, as it was only one of the various inquiries Harry asked her help for. Hermione would rather not annoy him, especially after their conversation.

  He was no longer as meek or shy as before, not that he wasn’t stubborn when he wanted to. Then there was this small but persistent feeling that he had become dangerous and was not to be crossed lightly. Harry had grown bold, confident, and hardy but was still her friend. While it was certainly jarring, Hermione did not dislike the change.

  She threw a gnce at the girls and saw one of them holding the morning edition of the Prophet, with the main page headline rge and clear for all. She could even read the first paragraph of the article if she squinted.

  Murder in Hogwarts! Dark Lord, Gilderoy Lockhart! Governors ousted, and Dumbledore’s returnBy: Randall Amorim

  Dreadful tidings come from our beloved school. As our readers know, there have been attacks targeting muggle-born students in Hogwarts since All Hallows Eve of st year. Sources say that the attacker always left a message written in blood about the legendary Chamber of Secrets opening.

  I would like to remind our dear readers that the Chamber of Secrets was supposedly built by Sazar Slytherin to hide a monster that, according to legend, would cleanse the castle of those of tainted blood. There have been four attacks on students thus far, three of them muggle-borns and one half-blood.

  These attacks were enough incentive for Hogwarts’ Board of Governors, led by Lucius Malfoy, to oust Albus Dumbledore from his position as Headmaster. Exactly three weeks ter, the truth was finally revealed about the perpetrator behind the attacks, yet the cost was dire. It is with great regret that we announce the murder of a pureblood student by Gilderoy Lockhart. That is right, readers, the newly assigned Defence Against the Dark Arts professor personally chosen by the board of governors, was the perpetrator behind the attacks all along.

  It was revealed that Gilderoy Lockhart was, in fact, secretly a dangerous Dark Wizard. Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had this to say;

  “Gilderoy Lockhart did not accomplish any of his accimed achievements. They were all stolen by him through the illegal use of the obliviation charm. Lockhart would convince the witch or wizard who did the deed to tell their story before wiping their mind. Then he would publish them in his books as if they were his own. After having the DMLE comb through-

  The page was listed before Hermione could finish, but she threw another gnce.

  We are not aware of the exact specifics of how Dark Wizard Lockhart pnned to fabricate his next adventure, but considering his rapport with the School Board as well as Mr Malfoy’s suspicious ousting of Albus Dumbledore that resulted in a student’s death, it is easy to—

  She sighed inwardly and looked away. It seemed that Harry was right, and the minister did, in fact, cover the whole thing up.

  Was her trust in the teachers and authority figures mispced? Dumbledore also knew about this cover-up and kept silent. And how could Hagrid be carted off to prison without a trial just like that? But then she remembered how her father often compined about corrupt, lying politicians at home. It seemed that the wizards were not so different from the muggles in some ways, after all.

  Hermione sighed again and returned to her research, but her distracted thoughts haunted her.

  Objectively, she knew that deferring to adults who were supposed to know better was the wise thing to do. But did they truly know better? Was it even a question of knowing better than children?

  She realised that it wasn’t! It was a question of… interests and priorities! That cold, cruel line of thought made her grimace. Despite wanting to believe the contrary, there were ample examples and proof of it. Her recently departed friend was the worst of them. Hermione wasn’t half as close to Ron as she was to Harry, but he was still one of her preciously few friends.

  While it was true that Ron and Harry broke the rules, could they have truly abandoned Ginny to die? If they didn’t care to help others, wouldn’t Hermione be killed by the troll in the vatory on the first Hallow’s Eve? And could she even bme them? Especially since they did get a teacher to come along…

  She felt sick with herself for cheering for Lockhart and believing his vain image. All those hours spent studying his many books in detail, wasted in vain!

  Hermione sighed sadly before returning to the passage about Metamorphmagi. It was just a paragraph about people naturally gifted in self-transfiguration to the extreme. It was not exactly what Harry was looking for, but it was simir enough. Believing that would suffice for now, she closed the book and moved to the next book, Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans, while also keeping A Legal Compendium 198 nearby, searching for answers on House Elves.

  Harry woke up in the Godswood again. He wondered if there was a way to tell the time here, and immediately a rge stopwatch appeared suspended in the air. Timer already running in the first minute.

  He immediately went to Ghost, who had his tongue wagging and tail thrashing so much that the ground would have been indented if it were real, and just colpsed on top of him in joy. He lost track of time on how long he spent pying around with Ghost before he decided to check the stopwatch. It’s already been 45 minutes since he arrived.

  Harry turned towards the pool and looked into it, and frowned; a thin amber line trying to reach the water's surface. It was a familiar colour, yet he could not recall where he had seen it. When he moved his hand near it, it struggled even harder to break out of the water to reach him.

  Curious and feeling confident in the safety of his mind, Harry plunged his hand and grabbed it… only for his entire perspective to change drastically as he saw himself flying underneath the clouds and the sun as he sped towards an unknown destination.

  He was soaring over the roiling green hills, flying freely. Yet the flight was not without a purpose, the destination was the marble building with the grumbly two-legged long ears, who never gave treats or rewards. Not only that, but he was filled with near boundless energy as he streaked through the sky, and his sight was superb, as he could see the smallest details on the marked bark of a tree below. At that moment, a feeling of danger rapidly approached, and he spun, dodging a loathsome hawk, then-

  .

  .

  .

  “Mr Potter! Wake up, young man!”

  Harry jerked awake and nearly fell out of bed. He hurriedly stood and noticed Madame Pomfrey looking at him in exasperation.

  “What time is it?” How long was he asleep? It felt like he only spent a quarter of an hour since he touched the pool. And what was that amber thread he held? He felt like he was flying in the skies. It was…exhirating! Even more than flying on a broom.

  His train of thought was interrupted by Pomfrey, “It's almost three-thirty, young man. I’ve been trying to wake you for some time now. Come, sit down, so I can expin what I discovered.”

  ‘So for every hour I spend in the dreamscape, two would pass here?’

  Harry sat again on the bed, “You’ve been working on my blood for so long?”

  “Of course not, I was done in ten minutes, but I thought you could catch some sleep. You did have quite the ordeal, Mr Potter.” Madame Pomfrey sat in front of him and pced a few papers on the side table.

  Harry felt warm inside at the consideration of the matronly woman, “You always have been my favourite member of this school’s staff, Madame.”

  He gave her a cheeky grin, to which she merely smiled, “And I truly do hope I do not have to see you here again. Otherwise, I might just have a bed exclusively for you.”

  “I shall make no promises,” he chuckled.

  “Now,” she grabbed the papers, “I’ll spare you the technicalities and get straight to the point. Your body has become immune to all manners of poisons and venoms.”

  Harry was shocked.

  “Well, isn’t that good?” He scratched behind his ear in confusion. Why didn’t she sound too pleased?

  “Oh, it is certainly good news. The problem is, I believe your blood has also made you resistant to potions.”

  “How so?”

  “Last night, I gave you a Pepper Up, a Calming Draught, and a Blood Replenishing potion,” Harry nodded as his stomach began to twist from anxiety. Or maybe hunger? “From what you told me, I can safely assume that none of these potions fully worked as intended. You were still emotional and fatigued. Although the Blood-Replenishing Potion could have worked, you haven’t really lost enough blood to tell, and I only gave it to you as a precautionary measure. It could have worked, or it could have had a different reaction altogether, such as making you hungry.”

  ‘Just my luck,’ Harry thought glumly. “Does this mean that healing potions won’t work for me? If I ever break my arm or suffer from blood loss, will potions do nothing then?”

  “Things are not so dire, my dear,” Pomfrey patiently reassured him, “you will merely need much bigger dosages than normal to get the same result or much stronger potions. For your time in school, nothing will change for you, as I will be preparing your potions regardless. For when you are out of school, however, I recommend working diligently on your potion skills if you want to brew your own potions, as well as investing in better brewing tools.”

  “Tough chance with Snape working here.” Harry sighed, to Pomfrey’s amusement.

  “I shall not comment on Severus’ teaching skills, yet he is still one of the finest potion makers in the country. If you do not see hope in potions, then you may want to hire the services of a potioneer to brew you whatever potions you will need. Here,” she handed him an official-looking parchment, “show this to whoever will be your personal potioneer, they will understand how to adjust their brewing process and what ingredients to use. I must warn you, though, it will cost you a pretty knut.”

  Harry nodded under her serious gaze, folded the parchment, and pced it in his robe’s inner pocket. Maybe get it minated to keep it safe, or find some spell to preserve it?

  “One st thing, Mr Potter. I tested your blood against some disease samples, and it appeared to be immune to it. I suspect that with enough blood, it could have even cured it. I doubt that your blood has become a Panacea, but at least I am sure that you will be very resistant to diseases. The same tests were done on your spit sample, with simir results. Not sure how that will transte to when you are snogging a girl, though I am sure it won’t be anything harmful.”

  Pomfrey said that line in as deadpan a voice as she could while Harry blushed furiously. Eventually, she broke out in ughter, much to his chagrin.

  “I will be sure to come to you, Madame Pomfrey, should I encounter any problems of such nature,” Harry replied with a cheeky lilt, making the nurse ugh harder.

  It took her a whole minute to calm down, and Pomfrey wiped her eyes, stood up, and collected the parchments. “Now, will there be anything else, Mr Potter?”

  Harry wanted to ask if his blood could be a potion ingredient but decided against it. No need to seem like he is offering himself as a test subject. The image of Snape chasing him down with a knife to be chopped up and thrown in the cauldron sent shivers down his spine. Harry shook his head and stood up.

  “Thank you for allowing me to sleep here, Madame. And thank you for all your help.”

  “It was my pleasure, dear. Make sure you eat enough until the hunger goes away. And you have my condolences on the loss of your friend, Mr Weasley.” She added sadly.

  Harry nodded and left the infirmary. He felt restless and full of energy, he also had a sword to recover.

  ***

  After a quick trip back to the dorms to change into something expendable, packing the rgest of his cousin’s trousers in his backpack along with his dragon hide gloves, then picking up his broom; Harry finally ventured back to Myrtle’s bathroom, unseen. The cloak did an exceptional job concealing him from unwanted attention.

  Thankfully, Myrtle was nowhere to be seen, and the entrance to the Chamber was still closed after he swung by st night following his conversation with the Headmaster.

  ‘Open’

  The sink expanded into a tunnel, and Harry wondered who would hide the entrance to the Chamber in a girl’s bathroom. As he mounted his broom and descended carefully, Harry could feel a slight hum in his ears as he descended. As soon as he did so, a strange urge swelled inside of him. He needed to be in the Chamber as if something fateful was waiting for him there. He was also getting hungry again.

  He quickly arrived at the location of the rockslide, past the shed skin of the snake. The Minister and his Auror seemed to have done an excellent job clearing it up, but they must have been stumped by the door. He couldn’t even find a speck of blood. Why didn’t the minister mention the shed skin? More for him, as the skin seemed like one of these rare things that could be very useful for potions or the such.

  Harry was too distracted by the humming in his ears to contempte more, though, as he continued on.

  Finally, he arrived at the door to the Chamber. Another hissed command, and a short walk ter, Harry was standing in front of the Basilisk’s enormous carcass, with the sword sticking out of its maw.

  As he stared at the giant snake, his hunger pangs reached a crescendo. There was magic at work here. Ever since Harry awoke after sying the Basilisk, he had felt a small connection to this pce, but it had been too dull, too muted, and he had been too distracted to acknowledge it. Every fibre of his being screamed at him that this was the right choice. That this was his right. Magic itself was demanding that he consume his sin foe.

  He could barely hold himself from rushing at the snake and slicing a piece to eat raw. He would not deny his very being from the feast in front of him, but he would do it on his own rules.

  Then his stomach grumbled again, whittling away his already wavering resolve. Harry tensed for a moment before striding towards the sword and pulling it out with a single motion. He warily circled towards the side where even the smaller, softer scales of the belly resisted the blows of the silvery bde, but with the hunger urging him on, he managed to cut a rge line and gorged out a bloody piece of meat atop his sword.

  “Incendio,” Harry held the stream of fire, and beads began to pool on his brow from the exertion. It took a handful of painfully long minutes until the smell of roasted meat finally hit him. Ignoring the slightly burnt outside, he greedily bit into the roasted flesh.

  It was bliss. The taste was heavenly, and he immediately started feeling rejuvenated. He quickly swallowed down his morsel, yet his hunger was far from satiated. A second piece followed, and before Harry knew it, he had eaten at least half a dozen.

  Finally, Harry managed to stop himself from cutting a seventh piece long enough to recollect himself. He had eaten enough for now, why not have the rest properly cooked?

  After a moment of hesitation, he pced the silvery bde on the ground, noticing that it was pristinely clean, holding no traces of soot, oil, or blood.

  A rge kill, and it would be a waste to leave it like this. A pity he didn’t have the tools to skin or preserve all of it…

  But wait, weren’t House Elves basically the wizarding equivalent of stewards?

  “Dobby!”

  The elf popped in and flinched at the massive snake corpse with the rough cut on its side. He recollected himself quickly enough and turned to his master, “The Great Harry Potter has called for Dobby?”

  “Yes, Dobby, I will need your help in butchering and dismantling this carcass. I know how to butcher it, but I will need tools. Moreover, I would like to know if there are special potions to help in tanning the hide. For a snake this size, I will need an entire pool of specific materials to do it, I would also rather not hang it in the sun for all to see. Some sort of preservation potions and crystal jars as well to secure the organs. Do you know where to procure such items?”

  Dobby had produced a muggle notebook from somewhere and hastily scribbled down, “Dobby knows, oh great snakekiller Harry Potter, sir. But Dobby will need gold, sir.”

  Well, wasn’t that neat? Harry had expected the elf to point him towards some stores or pces where such tools could be procured, not to acquire everything for him instead.

  “How much do you think it will cost, Dobby?”

  At this, Dobby fidgeted and appeared distraught.

  “Dobby not sure, sir. Snake is bigger than anything Dobby worked on before. But Dobby can ask for the necessary measures for dismantling a dragon to get an idea.”

  Harry smiled genially at his elf, “You do that, Dobby. Make it quick, though, and any gold you require, you can take from my trunk. The cost is irrelevant as much as getting started on this snake.”

  Dobby nodded his head, his ears fpping around, “Dobby will do his best, Great Snakekiller Sir can count on him.” With that, the house-elf popped away.

  A smile formed on Harry’s lips; his new retainer was already proving far more useful than he expected. He looked around the massive Chamber and mounted his broom again. Flying had always been a wondrous feeling for him, and now even more. His trusty broom seemed to hum in agreement.

  It was time to do some exploration.

  ***

  Harry was exploring a few small rooms hewn directly into the stone, possibly Sazar Slytherin’s private quarters or workshop. Although he wagered that Riddle had found these as well, especially since they weren’t particurly well hidden. He was staring at a particurly intricate snake carving when a loud pop signified Dobby’s return.

  It took him a few seconds to rush back into the main Chamber and find Dobby unwrapping a rge leather roll twice his size on the floor over a rge tarp.

  “The Great Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has managed to acquire all that sir asked of him.”

  “Good job, Dobby. You have done well. How much did it all cost then?”

  “Only sixty-three Galleons, sir. Dobby had to strike a hard bargain and even use his old bad master’s tricks. The shop owner wanted over a hundred Galleons, but Dobby would not be fooled.”

  Harry gawked, sixty-three Galleons? He had never spent so much in his life. He couldn’t recall how many pounds a galleon was worth, but considering these were gold coins, it would still be a significant expense for mere tools.

  Nevertheless, he would have still endured it even if it was twice that cost.

  “You have done wonderfully, Dobby. I really do not know what I would have done without you.”

  There was no need to spare any praise, especially since the elf seemed to be eager to do his best. Dobby’s big eyes shining brightly were a sight to behold.

  Harry checked the tools and picked a skinning knife. It was well-banced, razor-sharp, and made of exceptional steel but was nothing compared to the sword that y on the ground. He definitely needed to figure out a sheathe and a belt to strap it on. Yet looking at the titanic carcass, the skinning knives would not be enough.

  After rolling up his sleeves, Harry picked up the sword again and id it on the tarp. He then had Dobby prepare the jars with the preservation potions to pce the ruined eyes in. Even mangled, Harry had a feeling he could make a stew out of them. His stomach grumbled as if in agreement with the idea.

  After dislodging and preserving the eyes, complete with their optical nerves, Harry’s gaze moved to the dagger-like fangs but decided against removing them. It would ruin the whole aesthetic of the skull, which would make for a fine trophy.

  An hour of hard work ter, Harry was finally done with the entire head of the snake. The venom was safely stored, and even the tongue and the punctured brain were preserved; he would waste nothing. Jon could have skinned, butchered, and quartered an entire deer in half the time, but Harry was only now done with the head after decapitating it with the sword —which took multiple swings with his weak, childish body— while Dobby offered to help him with the rest of the body.

  Bless that elf for his prodigious use of the animation charm. Harry could, at most, animate a single knife, and delicate tasks like skinning were beyond his meagre control for now. He’d be forced to do it on his own, which would take tens of hours of tiring work. However, Dobby had half a dozen of them working alongside him and was progressing well so far.

  The Basilisk's hide was incredibly tough and magically resistant, but its innards were not. Starting from the decapitated neck, Dobby was slowly but efficiently skinning the snake, the charmed knives pushed up the skin while the elf would cut around it. It was simply impossible to make an entire clean cut of the hide, as the snake was too massive, and they would need to somehow lift it from the ground. Hence, Harry decided to cut the hide into smaller pieces. Normal knives did poorly, so he used the silvery bde, which managed to slice through the snakeskin, albeit with great difficulty. However, the cut pieces were still much rger than any moose pelt or anything else Jon hunted. He should easily have more than enough hide to fashion himself enough coats, trousers, gloves, hats, and boots for a lifetime. Maybe even the sheath for the sword?

  “Well done, Dobby,” Harry praised, gasping for breath. Cutting the hardy hide had tired him greatly, and his stomach was groaning with hunger again.

  “It is my honour to help, sir. Dobby lives to serve,” it seemed that the work had started to take a toll on the elf as well, his movements had slowed down, and beads of sweat rolled from his brow.

  “It’s time for a break, Dobby. Grab the meat and meet me in the stone quarters”

  ***

  Apparently, his new retainer was a superb chef. Too bad Dobby said he couldn’t eat the Basilisk meat and settled for some odd shroom stew. Too poisonous for him or something. Harry disagreed, he had never in his life eaten something so delicious!

  The house elf had cleaned a part of the kitchens quickly enough. After a small scuffle with a Doxie nest and borrowing some spices and utensils from the Hogwarts kitchens, Harry quickly started receiving serving after serving of meat. Braising, stewing, pot roasting, pan searing, grilling/broiling, pan frying, roasting, and stir-frying…Dobby did them all, with some sides of veggies and garlic bread courtesy of the kitchen elves. Harry’s hunger did not seem so easily appeased this time; the brain and eyes were not spared and disappeared into his belly in the form of delicious stew and soup, respectively.

  Harry might have been finally satiated after eating enough to feed two dozen men, but there were tons of meat to spare still, and they were far from done with the Basilisk. Thankfully, he now had a steward for the job.-

  “Dobby, do you know a way to preserve the rest of the meat?”

  “Yes, the Greatest Harry Potter, sir! Dobby saw a storage room here! Or Dobby can use the meat room to smoke it instead?”

  “A storage room?” He wondered out loud.

  “Yes, the one with runses, sir! Magic makes things go bad slower. What shall Dobby do?”

  That sounded fascinating! Harry was gd he had yet to choose his electives for next year, now, he would definitely pick Ancient Runes. And Jon had some basic knowledge of First Men runes that he learned as a child. Perhaps they would work here?

  “Put a quarter in the storage room and smoke the rest,” he decided.

  Dobby busied himself, and Harry returned to exploring the rest of the complex.

  The next room he entered greeted him with the rancid smell of rot and decay. It looked like it had been a small library; a few half-rotten shelves barely hung to the wall, while decaying wood was littered on the floor, along with worn, mouldy pieces of parchments whose ink had long faded. The only peculiar thing was the rather new oaken table in the middle, along with a single chair. A leather-bound booklet y alone on its surface. Harry cautiously opened it and scowled. The familiar handwriting was now seared into his brain, the journal was written by Tom Riddle.

  Should he simply destroy it? Voldemort’s old diary had proven very dangerous, did Harry want to take a risk with his journal?

  After a moment of hesitation, he cautiously opened a random page. Nothing malicious happened, and he realised that this might just be a simple journal and curiously inspected the inked words. It was a messy, disordered read, it seemed that Riddle had only jolted stray, seemingly irrelevant thoughts from time to time. But one particur line caught Harry’s eye.‘As, I discovered the Huntsman’s rebirth too te. After a multitude of calcutions, the optimal moment that would provide the biggest benefits is the 13th birthday.’

  A snort escaped his lips, but he couldn’t feel that this sounded familiar. Harry had a vague impression of what Voldemort was speaking about, but it was little more than a faint feeling at the back of his mind. He had a feeling that Ghost devoured more than whatever was in his scar. Something to explore for ter.

  The remaining two rooms had nothing of note, and Harry returned to the butcher’s work. Brimming with energy, he lost track of time until Dobby popped away and returned with a message from Hermione. It did not feel like it, but apparently, hours had already passed. Dobby stubbornly continued on the dismantling while Harry threw one st look at their work. Most of the organs were already harvested and preserved, including the heart, the most precious part of most beasts. The heartstring was a surprise but a welcome one.

  “Don’t forget to take a break,” he reminded Dobby.

  “The Great Harry Potter sir is too generous!” The elf happily bobbed his head. “Dobby will prepare snake organs for the next meal!” It was time to see what his friend was up to. After a shower to wash off all the grime and blood, of course.

  Fudge has already worked his way to turn this fiasco to his advantage, throwing Malfoy under the proverbial bus in the process. Looks like dear Lucius failed to damage control. The death of a pureblood student is simply too big of an event to hush up.

  You guys have no idea how tough it is to stop myself from turning this fic into a “Dobby fixes everything” kind of fic. Nevertheless, Dobby is quite the plot device for making life easy.