Work Text:
With Umbridge it never was easy. One wrong word and youd get hurt. It was a silent agreement the entirety of the student body held as the rumors of scars crawled out from her office. Harry knew of those all too well, especially since he was the main star in all of them. Now they were starring his wrists, from the bloody quill.
The whole thing made Harry begin to look back on his past years in Hogwarts. Quirrell, the Basilisk, the whole Azkhaban thing, the Tournament.. And the Dudley's every summer break to top it all off. Itd be nice to have a place to hide away in-. The Chamber of Secrets.
Harry stopped in his tracks at the thought. It was late evening, the classes have already ended and he was walking from the Grand Hall to his dorm room. Instead he takes a turn down one of the less populated corridors and takes out the Marauder's Map to check if anyone is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
Its could work, technicaly speaking. Its in Hogwarts, he could go there almost anytime, you can only use parseltongue to get it which as far as he's aware, he's the only speaker around here. Sure, there's still the dead basilisk, but that can get cleaned up, as well as the rest of the chambers. He's not asking for much, just a hiding spot away from everyone, away from people calling him a liar, away from people trying to hurt him.
He hides away the map and makes his way to the bathroom. There's no one inside, not even Myrtle as she seemingly has floated to somewhere else in the castle. He walked over to the sink. "Open." said Harry. The sinks moved and former a stairwell underground. He quickly walked down before anyone could catch him. Once in the chambers he could tell immediatly that someone was already there. Not that it was subtle or anything. The whole place was clean, there were new ramps attached to the walls that the water from the pipes poured into and further down the corridors. There was no water or dirt on the floor and walks anymore, even the foul smells from before were gone. Additionaly, through the chambers spread an echo of someone flipping book pages and the clink of a cup.
He warily took out his wand and started walking towards the source of the sound. The more and more he walked towards the main hall the more decorations appeared. Vintage rugs, paintings of nature and still life, lamps, all in shades of blue, although mainly pale.
When close enough to the sound he pressed his back to the wall and peeked behind it. Right in front of Salazar Slytherin's sculpture, which was itself fully restored to its prime, was a sofa with a few pillows propped up on it, a coffee table with a teapot and a half full porcelain cup, another, much larger rug i'm comparison to others, a stacked full bookshelf on the right and a armchair on the left. All vintage and in pale blue. It almost reminded him of Umbridge, except if her taste was of a vampire with a future brighter than his, instead of a crazy car lady. What caught his attention the most though was the woman sitting on the armchair. She looked to be in her mid-thirties. She had pale skin, round, blue eyes, high cheekbones and błonde hair with white streaks braided in a milkmaid braid. She was wearing a fairly simple blue dress loosely inspired by those from 1900s, as well as bright blue heels. She was very much busy reading a book, either ignoring or simply not noticing him staring.
After a few minutes od contemplating he came out, pointing his wand at her. "Who are you?" The woman jumped slightly, startled, quickly bookmarked her book and looked up at him. "Who are you?" said the woman. She didnt sound particulary mean or wary, just geniuenly confused. Harry shifted from leg to leg, then walked a few steps closer. "You dont know who I am?" he said suprised. She looked him up and down. "No. And to answer your question I'm Mallory Gaunt. Would you like some tea? Its grey." He ignored her proposition. "How did you get on here?" Now it was her turn to look suprised. "You dont know who I am?" Harry shook his head no. "I mean- I'm a Gaunt. The parseltongue trait runs in my family. We're quite well knows for it. Or we were before-... Youre a parslemouth too I assume, or did someone come with you? And oh, put away that wand already. Do I look dangerous or mean in any sort of way? I'm sat down, just drinking some tea." Harry looked between the wand and her, then slowly put it back and stepped closer. "I've never met another parslemouth before. Besides Voldemort I mean. How did you get into Hogwarts?" Mallory looks at him like he's stupid. "You have Windows with no sort of glass of crates in them. I simply borrowed a broom from Hooch, not that she knows, and flew right up inside. Its propably still lying around there somewhere." She talks about it slightly condescendingly while she takes out her wand and points it at the teacup. "Geminio." The teacup splits away into two and she takes the teapot, pours the liquid into the second teacup. The boy stares at the cup for a second, then shrugs and sits on the sofa. He looks over at her a bit judgingly for her manner of speaking. "Why did you come here?" She moved the cup closer to him. "This feels like an interview but fair enough. I originaly discovered this place on accident when I was a student here myself. I used to come here to get some rest from the social stuff, some eyes off my back. I'm a fairly quiet person by myself so I never caused much issue to the basilisk. I was too busy with my studies to decorate this space in any way at the time though. I only came back here one or two years ago. My cousin started making a huge fuss about Hogwarts, that some kid destroyed his diary. I mean, its a bit foolish on his part to leave something like that here and expect none of the children to get their grubby little hands on it. But either way it did remind me of the chambers so I figured Id visit. What a shock it was when I saw the poor reptile dead! Such a beautiful beast it was, do you know who did it? Or did you not even know there was a basilisk here? Either way, I cleaned it up, sold some parts off, gifted some other ones to a few friends of mine that I know like that sort of thing. A few cleaning spells, smuggled in some furniture. Its quite nice now, dont you think? What brings you here?" Harry started to feel a bit dizzy from the speed at which she was talking, slack jawed at the dots he was connecting. She mentioned that parseltongue runs in her family and so it was genetic. Her cousin also left a diary in Hogwarts that has been destroyed, also wasnt Voldemort's mother a Gaunt? Merope Gaunt, was it? Now with the alarm bells fully blasting off in his head he looked up from the teacup and at the woman. "I came to escape from stuff too. ...Sorry if this might be a bit straightforward, but is your cousin Voldemort?" She pauses mid sip, clears her throat and puts the book away on the coffee table. "He is. And before you ask, no, I dont agree much with his beliefs. I dont particulary enjoy muggles as I've had nothing, but bad experiences with them and theyve caused me some grief. But I dont particulary enjoy most people regardless of blood status do I consider it fair enough. I've never acted on my dislike." That did calm some nerves. If she didnt agree with what he's doing then likely she isn't talking with him either. "So youre not too close?" "Oh, no. We're fairly close, at least from the way I see it. In all honesty the purity thing is the only thing we dont see each other eye to eye on. I havent seen his face in years as there was quite a mess on his side, but we write quite often. I send him things he might need or deem useful, he sends me any books or clothes he thinks Id like back. He's the one who taught me dark magic and history of it. I also borrowed lots of books from him back when I was little. He might be nad at all kinds of live including familiar, or empathy. But Im not too good at it too. I just wish he'd stop treating his soul like a charcuterie board and get a therapist once in a while. I doubt any would take him in now after the things he's done but god knows he needs one." Now the boy was properly stressing. A relative of Voldemort. On good terma with him and on talking terms. If she figures out who he is she'll likely tell on him to Voldemort. He's trurly been running from one enemy to another.
He scoffs at her. "Why? Why associate yourself with him even after all the things he's done? He's killed thousands if not millions of people. He killed my parents, he tried to kill ME." Mallory squints and looks at him again, muttering something under her nose. "Tried to- Oh wait, youre that Boy Miracle theyve been trying to set up to kill Tom, right? What a small world! And what opportunities for nicknames. I'm calling you..." She props up her chin on her palm. "How about Death²? You've died once already and youll die again when youre old and wrinkly." He stared at her dumbfounded for a second, then frowned. "First off, dont call me that. Second, youre not even the SLIGHTEST bit upset that I'm the guy that Voldemort has been trying to kill for the past 13 years??" The woman pours herself more tea as she thinks for a second. "Youre his problem, not mine. And as to answer your earlier question... My parents and grandparents all have instilled in me a great loyalty to my family. Its stronger than ever nie that theyre gone. Family was all I had when I was a little girl. The places I grew up in were build by my ancestors, the books I've read, the paintings, clothes, everything. The smell of history was in the air at every step and it was almost intoxicating knowing that I was apart of it. Its partly why I love History of Magic so much. Even the school I went to was founded by one of my ancestors, and after him another founded Ilvermorny. Nostalgia is in my blood, Harry and my lungs are filled with things I've lost a long time ago. Voldemort as you call him and as he calls himself is the only living, breathing remaint of that history I have left. His circumstances might have been vastly different from mine but he's still my cousin. My morał compass broke and for as long as he's the only family I have the arrow will always point his way." She gets up, pick up the book from the coffee table and slowly walks to the bookshelf to put it back. Her eyes grow cold and almost disgusted with the world around her. "...I lost my parents in the war too. Not to Tom but to aurors. For all the light their proclaim their side to be in theyre still humans. And like humans they maul, bite, scrap and scruff at each other and those around them till is nothing left. My parents did no wrong, they were civilians. They only reason theyre dead is cause your precious little Ministry decided that the best course od action on that day would be to bomb the area-..." She clenches her fist as she stares at one of the books on the shelf. Then abruptly turns to look at Harry. "Have you ever read Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky?" Harry looks a bit startled by both her admission and the sudden change od topic. "No, why?" Mallory takes the books and hands it to him. "Its a book about a man who kills his neighbour on basis of his own egoism, generał dislike of the public towards the neighbour and monetary issues caused by her. The entirety of the book shows him suffering the consequences of his actions. He hallucinates, has nightmares, falls sick from stress. He even essentialy throws out and away all the things he stole from the woman, i'm fear and paranoia that someway somehow someone would discover them and sens the investigators on his doorstep. People tend to interpret the book as a paychoanalisys of human nature. As much as I agree with the sentiment all it caused for me is further disdain. The aurors. Do they feel sick? What about the Shining Light Dumbledore? Does he ever hallucinate? He fought on a war. He's sure to have killed a person or two, self defense, or not. I wish theyd all feel sick, to the core and further. Becouse I did. I remember. I remember quite well actually. Orphaned at 9 years old, the little thing I was, my grandparents dying top from grief. And not a single little recompensation for the loss, for the pain. If this is how your Good side acts then I want nothing to do with them. Cause its YOUR side that have claimed to feel sick is to be humane. And as much pain as the Dark has caused at least theyre honest in it." Harry frowned at her and put away the book on the coffee table. "We're not liars. I get that you were delt a nad hand but you cant just group us all based on a few assholes. So what, you hate us becouse some of us 'lied' to you but youre just fine with death eaters murdering and torturing people left and right?"
Mallory scrutinizes him for a moment. "Tom says he'll hurt people for power and he hurts people for power. Albus has lied about things while also doing the exact same act as Tom. He's hurt you for one." Harry shifts unconfourtably in his seat. "Like what? What has he lied about?" She sits next to him and sips her tea. "He lied about this place being the safest in the world. If he lied about something as grand as this then what other things could be be lying about?"
The boy scoffs with no real fire behind it, deflates a bit, leaning against the back of the sofa. Then he finnaly takes his tea and drinks it.