Harry Potter and the Dovahkiin

"All the copies of Hogwarts: A History have been taken out," she said, barely looking up as he approached. "And there's a two-week waiting list! I knew I should've packed my copy, but noooo, Lockhart's books took up too much space."

Ben blinked. "You mean to tell me you voluntarily left behind Hogwarts: A History?" He whistled. "That must've been painful."

She ignored him, flopping down into the chair next to Harry and Ron.

"Why do you need it?" Harry asked.

"The same reason everyone wants it," Hermione huffed. "To read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?" said Harry quickly.

"That's just it—I can't remember," Hermione admitted, chewing her lip. "And I can't find the story anywhere else."

"Why didn't you just ask me?" Ben said, sliding into the seat next to her.

Hermione gave him a sceptical look. "You know about the Chamber?"

Ben feigned offence. "Of course I do! I know everything about Hogwarts."

Ron snorted. "Go on, then. Enlighten us, oh wise and all-knowing one."

Ben smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Well, legend has it that Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders, had a bit of a disagreement with the others over, you know, mudbloods—"

Ron winced. "Don't say that."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Point is, old Salazar wanted a stricter admissions policy. The others told him to get stuffed, so he packed his bags and built a secret chamber under the school before leaving. Very normal behaviour. He also left behind a monster that only his true heir could control—because, obviously, no school is complete without a built-in death trap."

Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances, but Hermione looked intrigued. "And you believe the legend is real?"

Ben shrugged. "Oh, absolutely. This school has ghosts, sentient staircases, and a poltergeist whose entire existence revolves around being annoying—why wouldn't there be a secret chamber somewhere?"

Hermione frowned. "But if the Chamber is real, someone would have found it by now."

Ben gave her an approving nod. "Ding ding ding. Fifty points to Gryffindor. Someone did open it—fifty years ago. A student died. They caught someone, expelled him, and the attacks stopped."

"Who?" Harry asked sharply.

Ben leaned forward, lowering his voice dramatically. "Hagrid."

Ron choked on air. "HAGRID?!"

Ben smirked. "Oh, relax. He didn't do it. They just blamed him because he had a giant pet spider—still alive, by the way—named Aragog." He wiggled his fingers ominously. "Very spooky."

Ron looked horrified. "Hagrid had a giant—you know what? No. Nope. Not dealing with that. I've already seen one spider the size of my head this year, and that was too many."

Ben grinned. "Well, good news, Weasley. This one's way bigger."

Ron paled. "That's not good news!"

Hermione, ignoring Ron's distress, frowned. "But if the chamber was opened before, that means someone is opening it again now."

Ben let out a mock gasp. "Oh no! It's almost like there's an Heir of Slytherin running around! What a shocking and completely unexpected development."

Ron, still shaken, gave him a flat look. "You know, if you keep acting like a sarcastic git while half the school thinks you're the Heir, I won't feel bad when someone hexes you."

Ben grinned. "Oh, don't worry, Weasley. I can take it. And besides, between me and Harry, I think there's no doubt that I'm much more resilient."

"You do know I'm sitting right here, right?" Harry asked, looking slightly offended.

Hermione shook her head, deciding not to entertain their antics. Instead, she handed Ben the roll of homework parchment and got up to leave the library.

As they headed out, Ron shook his head. "I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony."

"But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff," he added with a grimace. "I wouldn't be in his House if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home."

Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly. The Sorting Hat's voice echoed in his head:

You could be great, you know… Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that…

Ben caught the look on Harry's face and, without warning, grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him into an empty broom cupboard.

"Oi—ow! What's the matter?" Harry protested.

Ben shut the door behind them. "Potter, listen to me and listen very carefully."

Harry, startled by his serious tone, gave a cautious nod. "Go on."

"You must not get involved with this Chamber business. You must not," Ben said firmly.

"Why not?" Harry asked, frowning.

Ben exhaled through his nose. "Look, right now there are a few stupid people who think you're the Heir of Slytherin 'cause you're, you know, Harry Potter—defeated the Dark Lord and all that. But if people find out you're a Parselmouth—"

"A what?"

Ben blinked. "A Parselmouth. You can talk to snakes." 

Harry furrowed his brows. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Ben gave him a flat look. "Come on, mate. Why do you think Slytherin's house symbol is a snake? He was a Parselmouth too. And it's not a coincidence that you're the only one who could hear the monster—it's a giant freaking snake."

Harry's stomach clenched.

"So what's your point? I bet loads of people can talk to snakes," Harry argued. "They can't all be Slytherin's descendants, right?"

Ben sighed. "It's not a common gift, and it's not a good look. The wizarding world is… let's just say, quite prejudiced in certain ways."

Harry stared at him. "Why are you telling me this?" His voice was guarded now.

Ben raised a brow. "Do you think I'm accusing you of being the Heir?"

"…Are you?"

"Oh, Merlin, no. You couldn't hurt a fly, Potter, let alone kill someone," Ben said breezily.

"Gee, thanks," Harry muttered. "Not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."

"Don't mention it." Ben smirked. "Look, I know what's going through your mind: 'The Hat wanted me in Slytherin. I can talk to snakes. Am I really evil? Could I actually be the Heir of Slytherin?'"

Harry's eyes widened. "How'd you know about the Hat?"

Ben waved him off. "I know everything. And I know you're not the Heir, or evil, or some closet Slytherin. So don't waste time brooding over it, alright? I don't want you running off trying to solve this mystery yourself. That's Dumbledore's job—let him do it."

Harry studied him. "Does that mean you know who the real Heir is? Did you see something?"

Ben flashed him a mysterious grin as he pushed open the door. "Maybe. But you don't have to worry about that."

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd of students coming out of Charms, leaving Harry staring after him.

-End of Chapter-

Slytherin left behind a giant monster, and all I'm leaving behind is a desperate plea to check out my Patr!on. One of us clearly had a worse long-term plan.

Ben: Trust Me, Bro (But Also, Don’t Investigate This Chamber Thing)

Harry: "You know something, don’t you?"

Ben: "Nope. Bye."