Jörmungandr

An Appetizer

The Chamber of Secrets did not smell like human shit.

Hermione was very grateful for that fact.

It smelled of loch water and moss. Old, ancient stones. Earthy air and a wave of humidity. She had been here before, during the battle of Hogwarts—and several futile subsequent ones that still lead to the same disastrous result. It had been cold, rough hewn stone and old, well-worn bricks, smoothed by centuries of a slithering snake.

Today was different.

Because of course it was.

Everything in this time was fucking different. Wrong. Tom Riddle had ruined it.

The small tunnel that led to the Chamber of Secrets was a conservatory just as lush as Tom's room, the fussy snake. Plants and hot, wet air. Small floating lights bobbing around the ceiling feeding the greenery. Keeping the countless snakes warm. They were dimmer here, now. An enchantment to make them turn with the night and day, no doubt. The sun was setting as she stood, breathed in the thick air, watched for the slight movement of snakes in the underground cavernway.

She caught one, occasionally, out of the corner of her eye as she walked down the slowly darkening corridor. But the most unrepentant snake was Ashezha. Slithering in and out of the plants and trees, the dirt and burrowed-in roots splitting stone. As eager as a puppy exploring somewhere new.

It was adorable. In it's own way. Innocent and playful.

Her foot kicked something. A clang as it rolled down the stone. The spyglass that doubled as not a portkey. Must have fallen when she had opened the door. Hopefully, Missy would not choose this time to rob the place. That would be terribly inconvenient.

Hermione had a wild moment of regret making it. As if it were a mistake planted that would grow like a weed and be trouble for her later.

Maybe. But that would be later.

Now she needed to know if Tom kept his heirloom down here in the dark with the snakes.

There was no tugging yet, no unspooling of her soul. She followed the snake further into the chamber, passed sloping branches and wide-leaved ferns, thick patches of moss in the underbrush. Vibrant green snakes sleeping on vines, brown and sandy ones darting underfoot.

Until she came to a door.

Ashezha slithered to the entrance, the same as with the sink, and spoke quickly, excitedly. Maybe not a puppy exploring a new space at all.

Maybe a naughty child, sneaking somewhere forbidden.

"You will not tell on me," Hermione ordered.

The snake paid her no mind. Just watched the slowly turning tumblers of twinned, emerald-eyed serpents unlatch themselves from the door. A rhythmic thunking as it unlocked.

Well, it could not be more troublesome than the raven, Hermione rationalized. That bird seemed determined to get her into trouble. Ashezha only seemed to want to pissed off Tom Riddle. Hermione could use that? She did not know how, but maybe she could—

The door stopped moving.

The room was quiet.

The door drifted open a sliver and Ash darted through the gap.

Hermione pulled out her wand and followed her into the Chamber of Secrets, the forged suns setting behind her.

The unraveling was immediate.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, before she even got a look at the Chamber proper, Hermione felt her heart unspooling, pulled like a thread of fabric in her bones, her flesh and blood and all the things she was made of. Across the crack in her chest, across the split in her soul. She had to close her eyes against it, find peace in the dark.