Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

It's a beautiful summer at Malfoy Manor. The day after returning from Hogwarts, I'm reading in the sun, and I overhear a conversation between Narcissa and Lucius on the balcony overhead.

"He seems like such a normal child sometimes," Narcissa says quietly, looking down at me. Not quietly enough, as I can still hear her. I pretend not to notice and continue to stare at my book.

"And yet at other times, I wonder why no one seems to have noticed that he's not normal," Lucius says. "Aside from the fact that the fools seem to think that he's evil."

"It just seems strange, if it's all just a mask," Narcissa says. "I can understand keeping it up around others. But we know his secret. Why does he act like a child even around us? Does he not trust us even now?"

"I have to wonder sometimes," Lucius says. "I've watched him casting spells. He's above his level, to be sure, but I don't think his inexperience is entirely feigned at times."

This is bad. They're starting to suspect. I've been trying to stay ahead of the game, but there's only so much I can do. Sooner or later, they will realize that I'm not from as far in the future as they think I am. I'm not that powerful and experienced.

"Are you going back to teach at Hogwarts next year?" Narcissa asks.

"Certainly not, no matter how much Draco begs," Lucius says. "I refused to even accept an official appointment or a salary. I have no interest in falling prey to that curse."

"You got to spend more time with Draco, at least," Narcissa says.

"It wasn't without its benefits, I'll admit," Lucius says. "It's delightful to see how well he's doing with his magic."

"What did Harry wind up doing with that dagger, anyway?" Narcissa wonders.

"Nothing, so far as I know," Lucius says. "Severus returned it to me and suggested I keep it somewhere safe, so I put it away in the hidden room in the basement."

My ears perk up at that. "Strange," Narcissa says. "After going to all that trouble and sneaking it into the school..."

"Perhaps he had a change of plans," Lucius says, sighing. "He keeps many secrets. I wish I knew exactly what his plans are. The Dark Lord never kept me apprised of his plans, either, but I owe no allegiance to this young man. Still, he has brought no harm to Draco, and I think it does our son good to have a friend who can be a real equal."

They head back inside after a while and I casually resume reading. I feel a little guilty about eavesdropping like that. And yet, what's this about that dagger? Now I'm curious about the Malfoys' basement. They have hidden rooms? What else might they be keeping down there?

So, I take a quick nap in the evening, and that night, while everyone is asleep, I take the opportunity to sneak downstairs and look around. "Lumos," I murmur, and shine my wand light around the place. I'm wary for traps and dangers, but I doubt they would have put anything too terrible where Draco could have stumbled into as a child. Now, in the places where a child couldn't have readily stumbled into, that'll be another matter entirely.

Where might a hidden room be found down here? There's a wine cellar, some storage space for boring, mundane items, and another room that's currently empty. I look around for secret doors, tapping at every wall with my wand. I check the floors for good measure, too, and behind and underneath every bit of junk.

I spend around an hour searching, before it occurs to me that it probably has a password required to open it or something. Hmm, what's the Malfoy family motto? I don't remember, but I thought I saw it on a banner upstairs somewhere. I go up and look around. Aha, there it is. Sanctimonia Vincet Semper.

I return to the basement, and start tapping every surface and murmuring, "Sanctimonia Vincet Semper." After another hour of that and getting nowhere, I wonder what I might be missing. Perhaps I'm supposed to tap a specific series of bricks or something. It's a pity that the house-elves have kept even this part of the house spotlessly clean, or I might have just looked for recent footprints in the dust leading to a blank wall.

Come to think, there was a wall that seemed a little suspicious. I head over to one side of the storage room. Yes, there's something not quite right about this wall. I knock on it, and it sounds different from the other sections of wall. But how to open it up? I try poking at the strange wall in various patterns in combination with the family motto.

Then, finally, there's a soft click and the wall swings outward as a door. What was it that did it? Ah, I think that was a sort of S movement. Wonderful. Now to see what treasures the Malfoys are hiding in here.

I shine my wand light around the old room. It's much larger than I would have expected it to be, no doubt enlarged by magic. And it contains shelf after shelf of interesting artifacts. Remembering my first unfortunate excursion into Knockturn Alley, I'm careful not to actually touch anything for the moment. Not until I've gotten a good look around first.

A suit of black armor, a sword, books bound in leather and silver, a skull that seems eerily as though it's watching me... There's the ritual dagger, sitting on a shelf. I ignore it for now, however. It's not why I really came down here, anyway. I could spend all night in here just looking at everything. But now that I've found the way in, I have all summer to explore the Malfoy house's secrets. I don't really intend to outright steal from them, after all. Just look. And maybe borrow.

A week later, I'm poking around the secret room at night again. I've only died twice to mishandling cursed objects, so I'm taking care to take a nap before coming down at night. I don't want to have to relive the entire day again.

This night, however, I spot something that catches my attention. Tucked away in a corner of the hidden chamber, I find a thin, fairly mundane looking book, but I recognize it immediately as anything but. It's Tom Riddle's diary. What's it doing here?

Putting everything else in the room out of mind for the moment, I grab the diary and head straight back upstairs to my room, excited. I put it on my desk and pull out a quill to write in it.

"Hello," I write. "My name is Lexen Chelseer."

It takes a few moments for the words to appear, but sure enough, they do. "Hello, Lexen Chelseer," the diary reads. "I am Tom Riddle. How did you come by this diary?"

"I found it in the secret room in the basement of Malfoy Manor," I reply.

"I see," Tom Riddle writes. "What is your relationship with the Malfoys?"

"They're good friends and allies," I write back. "I am currently a house guest at Malfoy Manor over the summer."

"Do they realize that you have removed this diary from their secret room?" Tom asks.

"No," I reply. "I have many secrets. I'm not willing to trust them with all of them."

"Who are you, really?" Tom asks. "How much time has passed since this diary was created?"

"This will take a bit of explaining, I think," I write. "It's been around fifty years, I think. And as for me, well. I'm a time traveler. During the year before I returned to the past, someone has opened the Chamber of Secrets and unleashed a basilisk upon Hogwarts. It wound up killing half of the teachers and a number of other people in the process."

"So did you come back to try to stop it, then?" Tom asks me.

"Not precisely," I write back. "Although Hogwarts being shut down is an undesirable outcome all in all."

"Indeed," Tom agrees. "So what do you intend, then?"

"Tell me," I write. "Aside from, obviously, a giant basilisk, what exactly is in the Chamber of Secrets? I didn't really have much chance to look around last time."

"Salazar Slytherin's private library," Tom replies. "As well as a small storeroom of old relics. You want them, don't you? But you are not of the correct bloodline, are you?"

"I'm not a Parselmouth," I answer. "My ancestry is that of the Dragon's Blood. So, dragons, but no snakes, I'm afraid."

"But you are a pureblood at least, yes?" Tom asks.

"Of course," I write. "Well, so far as I know, anyway."

"So far as you know?" Tom wonders.

"Yeah," I reply. "My family used to be really obsessive about the whole blood purity thing, marrying cousins and all that. Up until my great-grandmother refused the marriage that had been arranged for her, produced an heir with the most powerful wizard she could find who was only remotely related to her at best, and then married a Muggle and bore five Squibs that everyone tries to forget about. My mother and grandmother subsequently also looked for powerful wizards. I assume that my father and grandfather were purebloods, but I really don't know, as I haven't seen their family trees or anything. But I do know that they were really powerful."

"I think I get the idea," Tom replies. "So, tell me. If you were to gain access to the Chamber of Secrets, what would you do?"

"Study, learn everything I can, gain power," I write back. "See if there's any interesting artifacts that I might be able to do something with." And kill that basilisk at the first opportunity I get.

"I see," Tom answers. "And what would you be willing to give for that opportunity?"

I think on that for a long moment. "I don't care what happens to me," I write. "But I will not allow my friends to come to harm, nor do I wish the school to be shut down. Anything aside from that... is negotiable."

"And who are those who you would call your friends?" Tom asks.

I frown a little at that. I don't really like the sound of that. But, I reason, if it will ensure that those I really care about will remain safe... it just seems like it's inviting bad things to happen to anyone I don't mention. I tap at my quill for a moment and start skritching out names. "Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco Malfoy. Neville Longbottom. Hermione Granger. Severus Snape. Rispy." I pause for a moment, and then add. "And Luna Lovegood. If anything happens to any of those, I will be very, very angry."

"Tell me about Hermione Granger and Rispy," Tom suggests.

"Hermione is a Mudblood," I write. "We call her Ravenclaw's secret heir. She's the best witch in my year. Rispy is a free-born elf. He's the most violent and bloodthirsty little shit I've ever run across."

"I see. Very well," Tom replies. "I promise that I will do whatever I can to protect your friends, then."

"So, can you get me into the Chamber of Secrets?" I ask.

"I can," Tom answers. "I will, however, require a bit of your blood in order to establish the necessary magical connection, since you are not of Slytherin's bloodline."

"Of course," I write. I open a drawer in my desk and pull out my potions knife, and slice open my palm, allowing several drops of blood to spill onto the open page and sink in. "Episkey," I murmur, pointing my wand at my hand and closing the cut.

"Excellent," Tom replies. "That will be sufficient."

"Thank you," I scribble. "I'll let you know when I'm back at Hogwarts, then. I should sleep now."

"Good night, Lexen Chelseer."

I tuck the book away into my bag of holding for safe keeping, and go to bed. I can't help but have a nagging feeling of worry about the deal I just seem to have made.

Three weeks into July, I receive a letter from Dumbledore. "Stormseeker," he writes. "After last year's debacle, it behooves me to ask you about the next person who has applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. His name is Gilderoy Lockhart. He seems like an experiencd and capable fellow, but you no doubt have access to more information than I do in this matter. He doesn't have any terrible secrets that would cause him to be a danger to the students, does he?"

I snort softly in amusement and write back, "Headmaster, Lockhart is useless, but harmless. The students won't learn much with him teaching, but at least they won't be in any serious danger because of him, either. Hire him if you can't find anyone better." I pause and frown at the paper, before adding, "Make sure to tell him that he can only put one course book down as a requirement for his class. Preferably one he hasn't written himself."

Satisfied with that, I give my reply to Solomon to take back. I'm going to have to figure out what I intend to do with Lockhart this year. I would really rather not bring him in on the conspiracy this time.

"Come on, Harry," Draco says. "Put the book away. You can finish it later. We're going to Diagon Alley for our school supplies today! I swear, you read as much as a Ravenclaw."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," I say, closing the book and shoving it into my bag of holding. I've emptied most of it out to make room for new purchases, however.

"You haven't even been interested in practicing Quidditch with me," Draco complains. "How am I supposed to get picked for the house team if I don't practice?"

I snort softly. "Quidditch is honestly the least of my concerns. Besides, you've got Crabbe and Goyle."

"Yeah, but they're only good for getting practice dodging Bludgers," Draco says.

"What's a Bludger?" I say disinterestedly.

"How can you be my friend if you know nothing about Quidditch?" Draco wonders.

"By helping you whenever you need it, keeping you safe from harm, and supporting you as much as I can," I say.

"Well, support me in Quidditch, then!" Draco says.

"Tell you what," I say. "If you get picked for the team, I'll go to every game you play wearing green, and cheer for Slytherin."

Draco grins broadly at me. "Thanks, Harry."

"Are we ready to go, boys?" Lucius says, entering the room.

"Coming, Father!" Draco says enthusiastically.

We take the Floo over to Diagon Alley and proceed to collect the supplies that Draco and I will need in the upcoming school year. Judging by the book list we got, it appears that Dumbledore took my advice and put his foot down about Lockhart demanding that every student in the school buy the full collection of his books. Instead, the same Defense book is listed that was used in the previous year, which I already have anyway since I bought all the current school books last year.

"Oh, look!" Narcissa says out of Flourish and Blotts. "Gilderoy Lockhart is doing a book signing today! Isn't that splendid? He's such a handsome chap, too."

I look at her incredulously. It was bad enough to see Molly Weasley doing that, but I had expected better of Narcissa Malfoy! "Narcissa..." I say quietly. "Muffliato."

"What is it, Harry, dear?" Narcissa says.

"You do realize he's a Mudblood, don't you?" I say. "And furthermore, he's a complete fraud whose only real talent is Obliviation?"

"What?" say all three Malfoys in unison.

"But I thought he was a pureblood..." Narcissa says, frowning.

"Probably did some Obliviation to convince people of that, too," I say.

"How do you know he's a Mudblood?" Lucius asks.

"Long story," I say. "Suffice it to say that he admitted that while I was threatening him at wandpoint. After kicking his ass. In my second year. Oh, by the way, he's our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year."

Draco groans. "I knew it was too good to last."

"Be prepared for a lot of self-study if you want to get anything done," I say with a snort. "Hopefully Snape will keep the Dueling Club going so that the year isn't a complete waste of time on your part."

I cancel the privacy spell and we head inside. I don't mention to them my suspicions that the Hogwarts teachers might have gotten so horribly slaughtered by the basilisk was because Lockhart tried to 'help' them.

Sure enough, the minute Lockhart spots me, he exclaims, "Ah! If it isn't Harry Potter! Come over here, Harry. Let me get a picture with you!"

"I'm afraid you'll have to speak with my agent, Mr. Malfoy, about licensing fees for my likeness," I say lightly.

Lucius gives a small grin of amusement and says, "For you, Mr. Lockhart, no less than fifty galleons for a photograph with Harry Potter."

"That's preposterous!" Lockhart exclaims. "It would be a privelege to be seen with me! Between the two of us, we'd make the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow, for sure!"

"I tend to prefer that if I make front page news, that it be for more than merely walking into a bookstore," I reply.

"But I have a splendid announcement to make today!" Lockhart says. "Dear Harry Potter here came into Flourish and Blotts just to purchase my new autobiography, Magical Me--"

"No I didn't," I interject.

"Little did he realize that he would soon be getting the real magical me, as his new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!" Lockhart finishes.

"By the way, I'm going to turn your classes into 'naptime, part two', to follow up History of Magic," I say with a smirk.

"How rude!" Lockhart says. "You clearly don't appreciate all the wonderful things I have done in my life. How I cured the Wagga Wagga Werewolf, how I defeated the--"

"I've read all your books," I say. "I won't recommend anyone else waste their time bothering with them." I address the crowd with that last bit.

Lockhart sputters. "Obviously, you have allowed your own fame to go to your head and blind you to the accomplishments of others!"

"Draco, you got your books?" I ask.

"Yeah," Draco says.

"Let's get out of here, then," I say.

As we're heading out, Narcissa says, "That was a little over the top, Harry."

"But damn funny," Draco adds, snickering.

The Weasleys exit the shop in a cluster shortly behind us. "I always knew that Potter boy was a bad seed," Molly says. "How he humiliated poor Mr. Lockhart!"

"But, Mum--" Ginny says.

"No buts, Ginny," Molly says. "Stay away from him. I don't want you associating with the likes of him."

Ginny pouts, and casts what might be an apologetic look in my general direction for a moment before Molly drags her off to the next shop.

"You're awfully popular with the Weasels," Draco says.

"Public opinion is an awfully fickle thing," I say, shaking my head a little and sighing. It still seems a little strange, seeing those who I once embraced as a second family hating me, and instead being close to those who once hated me.

"Is there anything else we need to look at, boys?" Narcissa asks.

"Let's go look at brooms!" Draco says excitedly. "I'm going to need a fast broom if I'm going to play Quidditch this year!" He practically drags the rest of us off himself toward the broom shop.

"We don't even know if you'll be picked for the team yet, Draco," Lucius says, following after Draco.

"I better be!" Draco says. "If I can't have you as my teacher, I want to at least play Quidditch." He goes over to gaze at one of the brooms. "Look at that! It's the brand new top of the line Nimbus 2001! Isn't it magnificent?"

"It's a broom," I say flatly.

"Oh, come on, Harry, at least pretend to be excited," Draco says.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, chuckling softly and shifting my attitude quite deliberately. "Oh, Merlin! That's an amazing broom! I bet it's like, really fast and stuff! It's totally awesome!"

"Now you're just forcing it," Draco says, laughing aloud. "Father, can I have it, please?"

Lucius sighs and gives a small smile to his son. "Very well, Draco, if that will make you happy, then I will buy you that broom."

Draco clings to his father in a sudden, tight hug. "Thank you, Father!"