The Legacy of Salazar

A Word With The Baron

"You really should see Snape," Hermione said, and Merlin had to grudgingly admit she was right.

They were walking down to dinner, having met up with Hermione in the library beforehand. But he wasn't hungry. The very idea of food brought with it a wave of nausea. It wasn't just the headache anymore, though that was still an excruciating factor. He felt drained, exhausted. Draco hadn't been sugarcoating it when he said the Gryffindors would be out for blood. They didn't attack him outright—worried about getting petrified he supposed—but the jeering, hissing, and promises to prove his guilt weighed on him. They dogged his steps all day, hands clamped around their wands as though ready to hex him the minute he spoke Parseltongue. Fun times.

They reached the Great Hall and at the idea of sitting there while his head pounded and his stomach clenched as another swell of hissing burned in his ears, Merlin made up his mind. "Yeah, I'm going to see Snape," he announced. "I'm not hungry anyway."

And he turned on his heel, making a beeline for the dungeons. He thought he heard Draco and Hermione call after him, but Merlin ignored them. He was tired of this, tired of the ache behind his eyes.

Merlin went to barge into Snape's office as he normally did when he was met with a locked door. He pushed against it for a moment and was about to blast it open with magic when he groaned. Of course, Snape was at dinner with everyone else. That's why his friends had tried to call him back. It was so obvious he should've thought of it. Merlin brought his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes.

Get a grip.

"And why aren't you at dinner, Merlin?"

Merlin gave a little jolt and turned to see the Bloody Baron. Merlin gestured to Snape's office with a grimace. "Looking for Snape."

"Ah." The ghost was silent for a moment. "I was hoping for a word..."

Merlin shrugged and pressed his back against Snape's door, letting himself slide to the ground. He'd have to wait until after dinner anyway. "Now's good."

"You are skipping dinner?"

Merlin shrugged again, and though the Baron raised his eyebrow, he didn't press the issue. Instead, he drifted closer to Merlin, glancing once up and down the corridor. "It's this Chamber of Secrets situation. I remember when it was last opened."

Merlin stared at him. "Of course you do!" he sighed and rubbed his temples again. Why hadn't he gone to find the Baron right after Halloween? Somehow it'd slipped his mind.

"Are you well, Merlin? I must say you look rather ill."

"Why I'm here, but anyway," Merlin said, shaking his head. "What happened last time?"

"It is complicated," and the Baron shifted uncomfortably. "You recall that as a ghost I need not concern myself with daily events?"

Merlin deflated. "Well, what do you have? Who opened it at least?"

Baron looked rather surprised. "Why, Tom Riddle, of course. But you knew that."

Merlin nodded. "I suspected. It's good to have confirmation."

"Yes. He opened the chamber while he was a student here. Dreadful business, I tell you. I didn't find out until after the fact, however," the Baron admitted. "At the time, Rubeus Hagrid was blamed for the attacks."

"What? You're kidding!"

"I wish I was. The lad has always had a bad habit of fostering dangerous creatures, and Tom used it to his advantage. He was a Prefect at the time. He framed Hagrid, but following an investigation, Dumbledore was able to acquit him. Still, he had been attempting to raise an acromantula in the school—I'm not even sure how he acquired the thing—and was expelled for endangering his fellow students. Though, I'm sure not everyone at the ministry is convinced of his innocence."