The Legacy of Salazar

Staff Meeting

Even the screech of nails on a blackboard would've been better than listening to Gilderoy Lockhart whine about how Merlin had skipped out on his detention. The insufferable Professor had shown up at his office at half-past six, with a pout that ought to have belonged to a four-year-old child. He then proceeded to pace back and forth in front of Snape's desk, robes giving him the appearance of a golden peacock while he attempted to educate Snape about the need for discipline.

The irony was not lost on Snape.

When Lockhart mentioned that he'd expected Merlin to show up right after dinner, even though he hadn't given the boy a time, Snape rolled his eyes. "If you did not give Evans an exact time and place, he would not be obligated to show up."

"But how could I, what with him avoiding me?" Lockhart grumbled. "I must've tried to catch his eyes a dozen times during breakfast and lunch. Never looked my way. And the moment I went out into the entry hall, he'd vanished."

"Off to his other classes, no doubt."

Lockhart gave him a disparaging look. "He knew he had detention," he complained. "I worry that all this fame has gotten to young Merlin's head. You should have heard the tone he used when he spoke to me. No respect. Probably my fault, I was too easy on him before. He's convinced that he can solve this Chamber of Secrets business alone."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did he tell you this?"

"Yes!" Lockhart said, waving his arms. "I tried to tell him I was very close to catching the Heir myself, but would he listen? That boy—"

But whatever that boy was, Snape wouldn't find out. Professor McGonagall's voice cut across the rest of Lockhart's sentence, magically amplified. It rang in the small office as if she were standing right before him. "All students please return to your dormitories. All teachers to the staff room—immediately."

Snape stood up at once; free to ignore the remainder of Lockhart's drivel. Had another student been attacked? But if so, why were they being asked to meet in the staff room? Foreboding settled in his veins like ice and he swept out of his office without a backwards glance at his fellow professor. He could hear Lockhart prattling along after him, and increased his pace until they were almost sprinting down the corridor—one way to eliminate getting dragged into another conversation with Lockhart, who seemed to want to discuss the possible meeting with a tone far too upbeat for the occasion.

By the time he'd reached the staff room everyone had assembled. Professor McGonagall looked pale, pacing back and forth at the far end of the room, her lips the thinnest he'd ever seen. Professor Spout was doing her best to hide her tears, sunk low in her chair. The Headmaster stood statuesque out of McGonagall's path, the twinkle in his eyes replaced by something far darker. Unease shuddered across Snape's limbs. He came to a stop in front of his chair, unwilling to sit down.

"Well now," said Lockhart, bounding along inside behind Snape with that glowing smile of his. "What is all the fuss about?" He didn't seem to notice the general despondency of the room or the way every eye narrowed with intense dislike when they landed on his person. Or he willfully ignored it—he shot a jovial wink at Minerva who looked ready to throttle him with her bare hands.

The Headmaster responded before she could act on it. A shame, Snape inwardly thought. "It seems that the Heir of Slytherin has abducted two students."

Snape's gut gave a terrible lurch. "Who?" he asked.

"A note was left on the wall, just beneath the first one," Dumbledore continued as if there'd been no interruption. "Pomona was directed to it by a group of Hufflepuffs on their way to a study group. It reads, their bodies will lie in the Chamber forever."