Chapter 45. A Bit Of History

Waking up early in the morning on the first day of the weekend, I let out a large yawn, confused as to why I was awake. The strange elevation of my heart, made me think perhaps I had a nightmare I couldn’t quite remember. I glanced at Val’s tank, watching him coiled up inside his water dish, his head resting against the side of the glass as he slept. I couldn’t help but chuckle, slowly getting out of my bed so as to not wake him.

Yesterday’s explanation of the Chamber of Secrets still stuck in my mind from last night. The feeling of apprehension and unsureness of the enigmatic Chamber as well as the one responsible for opening it. I instantly shook away the splinter in my mind, pointing me at myself, and got dressed.

I left the Slytherin dorms in a rush, the wind whistling by my ears as each hurried step brought me closer to the one that might know more. The halls were nearly empty, the only students I saw were those in groups and pairs, none wanting to be left alone through these large halls. I could tell they all looked towards me with distrust, not as another fellow student, perhaps one they might have disliked, but now as a suspect for the attack. A wide gap created by those I walked past accompanied hushed whispers of malcontent.

With every glare, every hushed murmur, I felt more and more sick at the possibility of them being correct. Without a word, I just walked faster, bridging the gap between jogging, while trying to seem as uncaring as I could. After making it at the entrance of the school, I ducked behind the main staircase, sitting back on the bench I had discovered just a year prior.

I looked up at the familiar oil painted horizon, my gaze drifting towards the foreground, the sleeping image of an old man snoring in his wooden rocking chair. I gulped, and took a breath, preparing myself for the question I would soon ask. “Lucas Peterson…” The old man suddenly spoke, freezing me in place with shock as he leaned his head back further into his chair.

“The teachers have asked me about you…” He continued, turning his gaze back over to me, his old eyes peering through me. “I’ve heard of the recent events… The Chamber of Secrets has a new heir…” I squirmed in my seat, his serious expression filled with calm rage, a torrent pulled in control of the masterful wizard. He then suddenly grinned, scoffing at me before turning away. “It’s too bad these old ears have heard very little about the Chamber.”

I stuttered in confusion, wondering if he thought I was guilty or not. “Can you tell me what you do know?” I asked, Merlin rocking in his chair slowly, facing away from me as he spoke. “What is it you would be looking for when you found it?” I paused, unsure what I could do if it truly was myself while sleep walking, a condition I sometimes had during nights of magical release. ‘It shouldn’t be me, it can’t be me. But if it is…’

With an answer I looked back up, now seeing Merlin staring at me again, making me jump at his silent gaze, before shaking away my surprise. “I’d stop the creature itself, removing it as a tool for this madness.” Merlin silently stared at me for a few moments, before slowly turning his chair around, his hands placed on his lap, interlaced fingers tapping away at his knuckles while he rocked back and forth. “It has been labeled a monster… Could you slay such a beast…? Or would you falter in your distress…?”

My breath caught in my throat, the very idea never once coming to my mind. Of all the creatures I had seen and met, none could not be reasoned with. “You must not  think of your own life while planning such a task…” Merlin muttered, raising his brow while leaning far back into his chair. “You must think of those that will remain after your actions…” I bit my lip, Merlin’s wisdom shaking me to my core, opening my eyes to what I had ignored. After some time, I nodded, silently accepting his words while I continued to ask him questions. “What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?”

Merlin took a deep breath, his fingers now gently resting on his knuckles against his lap, his gaze moving past me and into the far distance. “When I was first a student here… I was praised as a prodigy of the next generation…” He suddenly began speaking about himself, his half closed eyes almost inside the past itself. “Salazar’s generation. I was his student you see…” As Merlin continued explaining his story, I felt as if I was there along with him, the imagery in my mind culminating together to form the imagery in my mind.

In a personal training and research ground, built under the guise of the boat house, a young Merlin glanced behind him to check for any prying eyes. After his communication with Muggles had been revealed, his previous friends and confidants all but abandoned him. Looking back at the wall, his muscle memory placed his wand in the perfect spot, and waved it. With uninterested eyes, ones that had seen this very phenomenon plenty of times, he lowered his wand as the brick he touched slowly turned into a serpent.

It slithered down the wall, before its tail, curling around a chain, rattled the chain it was connected to. The young Merlin waited a few moments, before holding the stone snake in his hand, and placing the tip of his wand into the snake’s mouth. With every burst of energy from the tip of Merlin’s wand, the snake rattled its tail in response. With two rattles, he turned the snake upside down in his grasp, and removed his wand, trailing all down the snake’s belly, listening to the chain rattle faster and faster as he continued before abruptly coming to a stop when his wand reached the wall.

The snake was pulled back in by the chain, and reformed itself into a brick while the rest of the bricks began morphing and slithering into a mass of snakes, wriggling about. Merlin held his breath before closing his eyes and pushing himself through the writhing mess of stone creatures. On the other side he shivered with a sigh, glancing at the stonework behind him, morphing back into a solid wall. “Always hate that part…” He muttered, looking back ahead at the dimly lit stone staircase that led further down.

As the young Merlin descended the moist stone steps, the sound of hissing emanated further below, the sound of his teacher. At the base of the stairs, laid a large wooden door, a lit torch on either side illuminating the craftsmanship of the royal design of Salazar’s house. A Snake coiled around the shield of Hogwarts, other snakes running along the edge of the door to accent it against the gray granite.

“Master?” Merlin asked, knocking on the door. The sound of hissing, froze mid-sentence. A few seconds of silence, followed by cushioned footsteps leading their way to the door before it flew open. There stood a much taller man that looked to be in his late 50s, dressed in dark robes with glittering gold accents, and a single Slytherin pendant adorned around his neck. He looked down at Merlin, raising a brow with his judgmental gaze while placing his hands behind his back to look down closer at the young boy.

“So have you come to renounce those bothersome rumors surrounding you?” He asked, walking back inside the dark room. Merlin nervously followed behind, glancing around the personal room Salazar had made himself to study in peace. Beakers,  bubbling cauldrons, vials, all filled with dubious liquids of all sorts of colors and smells. Open books and unfurled parchments laid strewn about over desks and chairs.

However, amongst all the mess, laid a single carved out portion of table, candles lit all around a box with a sheet neatly placed over top of it. Salazar stood in front of it, his back turned towards Merlin, waiting for Merlin to speak. Merlin cleared his throat, trying to gain the last semblance of courage he had, despite not being a Gryffindor. “The rumors are true… Master.”