F&L: Chapter 64

I sat outside Headmaster Dumbledore's Office, frowning at the carved door as Harry met with the Headmaster for whatever meeting he was having. The Elderwood Door with its carved image of Merlin sleeping beneath the tree stared back at me, and I couldn't help but heave a sigh at the whole situation. Things had been going so well, only for this stupid issue to crop up and wreck everything. I had the knowledge of what was going on. I should share it, shouldn't I? Meta-lock Drawback be-damned. If being able to skirt round the edges of that using the Sight was good for anything, it had to be this, didn't it?

I frowned, looking at the image of the sleeping Merlin carved into the door. He'd had the power of foresight, too, hadn't he? He'd done his best to steer events toward a decent course, but it hadn't stopped Camelot from falling, or stopped Merlin himself from being trapped beneath that tree by Nimue. Human nature made guiding events away from the foreseen path tricky at the best of times, didn't it? That seemed to be the lesson to take away from Merlin, Arthur, and Camelot, even if the actual sequence of events that ended Camelot was still shrouded in secrecy and myth, even to Wizardkind.

"Did you try to let people know about how things would play out, Old Man? Just cut to the chase, only for nobody to believe you like a medieval Cassandra? Is that why you tried steering events at a remove?" I questioned.

If the image of Merlin sleeping beneath the tree could hear me, it made no sign. I suppose it was too much to hope for the Door, the only part of Hogwarts Castle that seemed like it might still be from the original structure, to have the same sort of magic that portraits did. At least, if the Door did have that sort of magic, then the spell Merlin was under was still far too strong for my woes to wake him because I got no answer.

"I suppose I shouldn't have bothered asking the question in the first place, huh?" I queried to myself.

Once again, the image made no move to answer or wake up. Merlin didn't even so much as roll over in his sleep at my musings. I was starting to feel just a tad foolish. What was I even doing? There was no indication other than age and a vague gut feeling that the Door was anything more than a historical relic. I sighed, shaking my head.

"Right. Listen to me talking to myself. I sound like a complete nutter." I muttered.

"Oh, you never know. The Wisdom of ages gone by can be a powerful thing. Take it from someone who understands." Came a voice from my right.

I turned to see the ghostly form of a fat, tonsured Monk emerging from the floor of the landing, phasing through the stone of the floor like it was nothing. He wore the robes of a Benedictine Friar. I knew this to be the House Ghost of Hufflepuff, the Fat Friar.

"Is that so?" I asked.

"Of course, why do you think I took my Orders at Jarrow, even after graduating from Hogwarts and being taught by Helga Huffflepuff herself?" Questioned the Fat Friar.

"Bede?" I queried.

"Exactly. The Venerable Bede trod the same road I did, both Wizard and Monk, more than two centuries before Hogwarts even existed." Nodded the Fat Friar.

"I see. You're saying I ought to look to one who's been in my position beforehand for guidance?" I asked.

"It couldn't hurt, Young One." Offered the Fat Friar.

"Anyone who's been in my position beforehand is either long dead or wants nothing to do with me. I'm afraid your advice isn't great for my situation." I admitted.

"Yet one lies there, carved on the Headmaster's Door, to hear you mutter of it. Tell me, what has you comparing your situation to the Greatest Wizard ever to grace these isles? It seems it must be quite a heavy burden to be compared to one like Merlin." Questioned the Fat Friar.

"It's some fairly heavy stuff. Are you really sure you want to know?" I queried.

"It has been some time since I last had to take confession, but I remember how to keep confidence, if that's what you're worried about?" Asked the Fat Friar.

"I wouldn't care to have my confession heard anyway. I'm a Pagan, you see." I grinned.

"Well, I won't hold it against you, Lad. Now, tell me what's on your mind." Chuckled the Fat Friar.

"I'm on the horns of a Dilemma, Sir." I began.

"Oh, come now. You can call me Brother Leofwine, you know. I never stood on Ceremony in life and have yet to do so in Death." Encouraged the Fat Friar, apparently really named Brother Leofwine.

"Well, Brother. It's sort of a tricky situation. I know something is happening and is going to continue to happen. The issue is that due to certain restrictions, I'm unsure if I can share the knowledge. Even if I can share the knowledge, doing so instead of trying to resolve things with a lighter touch might cause events to spiral out of control even further than they currently have." I sighed.

"You speak of the Oracle's Conundrum, Lad. You fear that sharing the knowledge too widely may cause your visions to be fulfilled." Mused Brother Leofwine.

"Or cause them to be defeated at the cost of events going completely off the rails." I nodded.

"Do you fear charting a course into the future without a map?" Questioned Brother Leofwine.

"Normally, no, but there's more at stake here than just this. I can't afford to be putting out extra fires over the next couple of years from me being an idiot and rushing in hastily." I shrugged.

"Such is often a risk. I imagine it is one even Merlin himself wrestled with." Nodded Brother Leofwine.

"Do you think so?" I queried.

"I would imagine so. I cannot know for certain, of course. Camelot fell more than one-hundred-thirty years before even the Venerable Bede's birth. I would imagine that if anyone truly knew the course of events post-fall, it would have been the House of Gryffindor, who themselves were descended from Arthur, via his nephew Gawain. However, that family is also long dead." Admitted Brother Leofwine.

"So what advice do you have for me, then, Brother?" I asked.

"I cannot truly offer any advice save these two pieces. I was no Seer in life, after all. I imagine that if I had been, I would have foreseen that the penning of my Herbology Treatise would have me defrocked and executed for heresy. However, I can say that, firstly, I urge you to follow the course of action you believe will do the most good for the least amount of harm, and secondly, that such worries may be premature. After all, you yourself claimed to not know whether or not you could even share your knowledge." Advised Brother Leofwine.

"That is a very good point. I have no clue whether I can even share the information or not. There's no point in worrying about it until I know whether or not I even can tell anyone." I blinked.

"You sound surprised. I'll have you know that, contrary to my House's reputation, we do have our fair share of good ideas." Insisted Brother Leofwine.

"No, it wasn't that, Brother. I simply was not expecting to hear such sound advice from a ghost. The Slytherin Ghost doesn't tend to involve himself in the affairs of the living." I pointed out.

"Yes, the Bloody Baron is something of an anti-social spectre, isn't he? I suppose I can't fault you for that. At any rate, I believe that the Headmaster will be ushering you into his office for a chat shortly. I hope my advice helped." Opined Brother Leofwine.

"It did, thank you." I nodded.

"Glad to hear it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off." Beamed Brother Leofwine.

Then he phased back down into the stonework of the landing with a ghostly shimmer, leaving a touch of ectoplasm behind on the stonework. A quick scourgify took care of that, before the ancient, carved elderwood door to the Headmaster's Office opened and Harry came walking out. He nodded at me, and I nodded back at him, before Headmaster Dumbledore stood waiting for me in the doorway. Getting up off the bench I was sitting on, I followed the Headmaster into his office, past tables full of silvery doo-dads and whirring artifacts. I could just about make out some of the runes on a few of them, as some had been scribed in Sanskrit, Ogham, Futhark, and even one or two in Oscan. That was a damn sight better than I could make out the last time I'd been in here.

Headmaster Dumbledore led me over to the alcove where he kept his desk and sat down in his chair. I noticed Fawkes looking far more beleaguered as I sat down in the chair provided opposite his own. The poor Phoenix looked more like a buzzard, given how bare of feathers his head was, and his snores seemed ragged as he slept. It had to be close to his burning day now, poor little guy. Surely he could use the sleep instead of having Headmaster Dumbledore and I talking about things not three feet away from his perch? I worried we might wake him up, especially if it turned out that I could share my Meta-Knowledge using my Sight to skirt past the Meta-Lock Drawback.

"Thank you for coming, Blaise. Can I offer you a Dairy Milk Button?" Questioned the Headmaster, holding out the ever-present sweets tray, this time filled with chocolate discs.

"No, thank you, Headmaster. Is Fawkes all right? It seems awfully close to his burning day for us to be having a conversation so close to him." I answered.

"Suit yourself. As for Fawkes, it's true that his burning day is coming up on seven months away however, I would venture to guess that he is sleeping so soundly you would have to set off an amplifying charm in here to rouse him. Have no fear on that account, though frankly, your worries about my Familiar are heartening to hear." Responded Dumbledore, setting down the sweets tray and folding his hands in front of him.

"Why is that, Headmaster? Surely you don't believe that I'm the Heir of Slytherin? How can I be? My Family isn't even from here." I queried.

"I assure you, Blaise, the thought hadn't crossed my mind. I'm simply heartened to hear such concern for those in poor health from my students. It speaks well of the sort of Wizard you will become." Deflected Dumbledore.

"As opposed to becoming like your Old Friend Grindelwald, you mean?" I asked, pressing the point home.

"You know, for a twelve-year-old, you are quite suspicious." Sighed Dumbledore.

"It had to be said, Headmaster. After the talks we had last year." I shrugged.

"I suppose it does bear repeating. Every now and then, just to make certain you're still on the right path. However, there is the matter of the students who saw you in the Second Floor Corridor. Most Students would have been at breakfast, after all. Especially if they hadn't eaten yet that morning. Curiosity is a Ravenclaw Trait, not a Slytherin one, after all. Rumors are already beginning to circulate." Intoned Headmaster Dumbledore.

"And a Lie can run around the world before the truth has its boots on, eh?" I questioned.

"Indeed. Paraphrased though the quote might be, it's apt here." Affirmed Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Well, rest assured, Headmaster, the Truth has its boots on. If need be, I can use it to give the lie a swift kick." I informed.

"Is that so?" Questioned Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Yes. Luna Lovegood in First Year Ravenclaw can corroborate my story. We discovered the ruckus about the message at the same time." I confirmed.

"There are some very high stakes here. Somehow, the Board of Governors has caught wind of this. By lunchtime this afternoon, Lucius Malfoy had already gotten them to schedule a meeting for next week." Explained Headmaster Dumbledore.

"I'll bet Draco's behind it. He scarcely does anything without mentioning his father." I scoffed.

"Be that as it may, are you certain that Miss Lovegood's Testimony will be taken for fact by the Board?" Queried Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Luna's a Seer, like me. Honestly, she's even a bit better at it than I am. I doubt I could have gotten one over on her even if I were lying about things." I admitted.

"Good enough. That should be enough to convince at least some of the Board." Nodded Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Why tell me this at all? I'm still just a second-year student. I can hardly be expected to help you plan a strategy for meetings with the Board of Governors, can I?" I asked.

"Because you are involved, no matter how much I wish that weren't the case, because your Sight gives you a unique insight, and because you are quite possibly the most Mature Second-Year I have ever met." Answered Headmaster Dumbledore.

"I'm actually kind of at a loss for words about the trust you're showing here, Headmaster." I blinked.

"Truly, today is a day for firsts, then." Smirked Headmaster Dumbledore.

I blew out a sigh at that. What was I supposed to say to this? It seemed like the Headmaster had finally gotten over his suspicion of me and was willing to show me enough trust, at least in matters that involved me in a non-direct way, that it was actually sort of touching. Honestly, everything I knew of the man said he wouldn't normally be this forthright with me. Did I truly remind him of Grindelwald that much that he'd be willing to extend a similar measure of trust to the one he'd extended to Grindelwald when they had both been my age? Before Grindelwald had gone insane, looking for more and more power, to the point where he'd touch off a major Wizarding War?

It made me feel a touch awkward, actually. Here he was being forthright with me about this, but I was still keeping things back from him out of fear of the Meta-Lock Drawback. Maybe that was even his angle here. Maybe he was showing me trust because he wanted to get me to open up about what I knew from my sight. I knew he wasn't able to read me without initiating an active Mind Probe at this point, but that didn't mean he didn't have decades of experience with persuasion to fall back on, even without the Mind Arts. The worst part was, could I really even still afford to keep holding that info back out of spite?

The answer was obviously not. After all, now with Lucius Malfoy using the opening provided by the Diary and Chamber of Secrets to try and launch an Inquiry via the Hogwarts Board of Governors or some such thing, plus the issue with the Chamber and Diary itself, as well as Lockhart being an actual threat, things were a lot more dangerous than they had been the first time around. I would have to tell him what I could, even if he were actually manipulating me to do just that and not showing genuine trust in me. I stood from my chair, shaking my head as I prepared to test whether or not my Meta-Lock Drawback would kick in on the fly.

"I'm not who you need to worry about, Headmaster." I intoned, steeling myself for potential issues.

"Indeed?" Questioned Headmaster Dumbledore.

"No. There are a few things you ought to be aware of that I haven't told you yet." I affirmed.

"Is that so? In truth, I had wondered if you would tell me at all. You realize that even without the Mind Arts, I still have a talent for reading people, yes?" Queried Headmaster Dumbledore.

"You knew?" I asked.

"My dear boy, you may be exceptionally gifted, but you're still far too young to fool a man of my experience." Chuckled Headmaster Dumbledore.

"All right. Here goes nothing." I muttered.

Then I opened my mouth to begin telling the Headmaster about what I knew of the Chamber of Secrets, the Diary, the Basilisk, and Lockhart, only for pain to flare up in my head. It felt like someone had just jabbed an icepick in my skull, and I seized up before I could speak more than a single syllable. The Headmaster's Office wavered for a moment as my vision swam, then I toppled to the floor, knocking over the chair I'd been sitting on as I did so.

The last thing I heard before my vision went dark was the Headmaster calling for Madame Pomfrey. . .

XXXX

Flashes of events flickered through my mind as I watched on, helpless to do anything, caught in the throes of a vision. Faces I only slightly recognized as Prefects, one I recognized as Miss Hunt from an Earlier Vision, one I knew was Gemma Farley. Another Seventh-Year, not a Prefect, I recognized as Rhys Maybury, who was a Seventh-Year in my House, alongside a number of other Seventh-Year Girls from all four houses, along with even one or two Sixth-Year Girls. Their faces flashed through my mind as I watched them form a Dueling Club along with a number of Seventh and Sixth Year Boys. The Scene shifted as I watched the Boys be unceremoniously kicked out of the Club on the agreement that this would be the NEWT-Level Girls Dueling Club. The Boys went to form their own Club, before fading from my Vision entirely.

Through it all, I saw Lockhart in the background, grinning and scheming something. Using the NEWT-Level Girls Dueling Club as a base from which to do various things. I saw him send some of the Girls to steal things for him from their fellow housemates. Not trinkets, either, but things like Family Grimoires, Expensive Potions Ingredients, and so on. I saw him send others to stalk the Hallways, looking for something or someone, though I had the sneaking suspicion I knew exactly what they were doing. Other times, I saw him draw girls close for an embrace, which, if I'd not been a disembodied consciousness right now, likely would have made me gag from the sheer power imbalance and age difference of a man in his forties sleeping with seventeen-year-old girls.

The Vision shifted again, Lockhart in the Chamber of Secrets, a dead Basilisk, alongside several dead Seventh Year Girls, lying on the floor. Ginny Weasley was likewise stone dead, after Lockhart had killed her and destroyed the Diary with a powerful acid. He had his remaining Thralls looting Salazar Slytherin's secrets to the bedrock, while others harvested the corpse of the Basilisk for material components for rituals and crafting. I saw them vaporize the remaining evidence with mass spellfire, then march one-by-one out of the Chamber, with Lockhart as the Pied Piper.

The Vision shifted again, Dumbledore on trial for gross negligence. Clearly, the Wizengamot felt he was too old to hold his positions any longer. Not only was Albus Dumbledore forcibly retired from his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts, but he was also stripped of his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot as well, a Vote of No Confidence being held at the behest of Lucius Malfoy via some catspaw in the Wizengamot. Lockhart was long gone, his remaining Thralls having graduated and living abroad with him as he greedily devoured what knowledge Salazar Slytherin left behind, living like a King. However, Albus Dumbledore was made to pay for Gilderoy Lockhart's misdeeds.

The scene shifted once again, a darkness overtaking Britain as the return of Voldemort was made inevitable by the ascension of Lucius Malfoy and the ignominius disgrace of Albus Dumbledore. The shadow spread out until no corner of the British Isles was left untouched. Then the shadow spread further afield, to France, to Norway, to the Low Countries, and so on, becoming a tide that was only stopped when half of Europe had been reduced to ash and uncounted millions lay dead, all for the greed and lust of Gilderoy Lockhart, as events spiralled overwhelmingly out of control. In the end, the Muggles had gotten involved and launched the Nukes once things had gotten so bad that cover-ups were no longer available. Europe, both the Wizarding and Muggle Versions of it, would perish in flames and radiation.

As the vision came to an end, I understood now exactly why I was being shown this. It had started with Lockhart achieving his aims step-by-step for this year and ended with the destruction of countless lives. This was what would happen if I played this wrong. Things would spiral out of control from Lockhart's Victory to unintended consequences for Wizarding Britain, to the desolation of Europe in Nuclear Flame.

"So he understands." Came a voice from nearby.

"Somewhat, at least." Allowed another voice.

"There is a reason you've had a block placed on your knowledge, Boy." Intoned a Third Voice.

"Fortuna may smile upon him." Opined the First Voice.

"But none know better than we." Pressed the Second Voice.

"How unpredictable things can get." Insisted the Third Voice.

I turned my mental consciousness about and beheld three Women, dressed like Ancient Greek noble ladies. One had a spindle, the second had several sticks marked as lots in one hand, while the last had a pair of shears. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, the Moirai or Fates. If I'd been in my body seeing this sight, I would have shuddered at the implications. As it was, the light of my mental consciousness flickered a bit, simulating the same feeling.

"If you wish to try and break our Geasa to share your knowledge." Began Clotho.

"Heed our words and know them to be truth." Continued Lachesis.

"Prepare for unforeseen consequences." Finished Atropos.

Then the vision faded as I felt myself being drawn out of the vision and brought back to the land of flesh and blood. . .

XXXX

I bolted upright, taking a deep, gasping breath as I did so, suddenly keenly aware that I was no longer in the Headmaster's Office, but the Hospital Wing. Light was filtering through the windows as dawn broke over the mountains of the Highlands of Scotland, and I realized that I had been unconscious for the whole evening and night right up until dawn. As it felt like Vulcan was banging away at his anvil on the inside of my head, I let out a groan, reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose. My groan, however, must have been audible from outside the small room I'd been situated in, because the door opened and Madame Pomfrey entered.

"You're awake. Stay still while I cast a few diagnostic charms." Nodded Madame Pomfrey.

Over the course of the next ten minutes, Madame Pomfrey cast a number of Diagnostic Charms on me, just to be sure. From her muttering as she did so, she was checking everything from possible internal injuries all the way down to something as small as my blood pressure. By the time she was finished, she let out a sigh, frowning as she did so. That couldn't be good, but I had to ask what it was anyway. Her response didn't tell me anything I hadn't already figured out, though.

"It's the damndest thing. There's nothing physically wrong with you, and whatever flare-up your magic had in the Headmaster's Office has subsided. As far as I can tell, you should be all right to head back to your Dorm. Whatever you did to cause your magic to go all higgeldy-piggeldy, I'd advise you not to do it again anytime soon, however. It's not good for your developing magic." Answered Madame Pomfrey.

"So I'm all right, then?" I questioned.

"Aside from a bruise where you hit your leg on the corner of the Headmaster's Desk when you fell, yes. Just so long as you don't push things too far today, you should be all right." Nodded Madame Pomfrey.

"So am I free to go?" I queried.

"The Headmaster is on his way. He wanted to have a word with you when you woke." Informed Madame Pomfrey.

"And here I am." Came Headmaster Dumbledore's Voice as he entered the small room.

"I'll just give you two a bit of privacy, then." Remarked Madame Pomfrey, exiting the room.

Soon, it was just Headmaster Dumbledore and I left in the small Hospital Room in the Hospital Wing. I felt slightly uncomfortable, as I realized I was lying in just my boxer shorts, much to Headmaster Dumbledore's amusement as he realized I'd found that out.

"I assure you, my boy. It's nothing I haven't seen before." Chuckled Headmaster Dumbledore.

"That doesn't make it better, Headmaster." I sighed.

"Indeed. However, you gave us quite a scare. I've only seen the like once before. You are under a Geasa. A powerful one at that, ancient magic akin to the curse laid on Cassandra." Intoned Headmaster Dumbledore, gravely.

"Only, instead of no one believing me, if I even try to share anything important in real terms, I get knocked out. I'd almost take Cassandra's Curse over this." I grumbled.

"I'm sorry, My Boy. You seem to have a destiny about you. One that it seems an Old God or two has taken an interest in. It is the only reason I can think of for such powerful Geasa. I wish I could say that I could balance out that information with better news, but I'm afraid I cannot." Sighed Headmaster Dumbledore.

"What happened?" I asked, my headache and my nakedness suddenly forgotten as I bolted out of the bed I'd been placed in.

"Luna Lovegood was found petrified near Ravenclaw Tower two hours ago. It seems that the rumors are true. The Chamber of Secrets truly has been re-opened." Informed Headmaster Dumbledore.

I could only groan at that. Not only was Luna Lovegood the alibi that the Headmaster had been planning to use with the Board of Governors, but she was a friend of mine. There was absolutely no way he could deny that the Chamber had been opened to the Board and claim everything was fine now. Was this a punishment levied by the Fates for my attempts to cheat the Geasa? Retribution for Hubris like some Greek Myth? If so, I think I hated it. Unfortunately, stewing in anger at the Fates wouldn't get anything done. I had to focus on the task at hand. Stop Lockhart, then stop the Basilisk and save Ginny. Still, it truly was the cherry on the shite sundae that had been yesterday.

Hopefully, I wouldn't be in for another of those days for some time again, now. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we have the next chapter. In it, we get Blaise meeting with the Fat Friar and being given some advice that isn't the greatest in his circumstances, as was just seen. At the same time, we also see Dumbledore beginning to open up and be a touch more forthright with Blaise than he ordinarily would have been. Whether that's out of genuine sentiment or as a sort of manipulation tactic is irrelevant. Either way, it wound up with Blaise triggering the Meta-Lock Drawback and getting a visit from the Fates. I drew a bit on the Wyrd Sisters for the whole prophetic warning in turn for my depiction here, though I stop short at Rhyming, at least for now.

At any rate, the next chapter will be another timeskippy chapter that has Blaise continuing with his life in Second Year. He'll be trying to snoop around the new Dueling Club that Lockhart is setting up on weekends as well, now that he's seen what it could lead to. Though the main part of his investigation will have its own chapter.

Stay tuned. . .