Harry Potter and the Scabbard of Excalibur [AU]

Hallowed Be Thy Hurricane, Thy Sword, Thy Blade

After promptly sharing their secrets - most of which Geist was fine with, requesting only that Harry inform Neville of an ability to call upon the Dark Lord's memories, as opposed to having a part of his spirit embedded in his psyche - the determined Hufflepuffs went on an ardent campaign of seeking out the remaining rings.

There wasn't a single ring anywhere in Dumbledore's office or its vicinity. Neville had confirmed this by disguising his examinations of the office as visits to faithfully report on investigation 'progress.' However, even knowing this, Harry decided to confirm - he'd brought up the Headmaster's office in a casual conversation with Professor Hagrid, and when the part-giant's thoughts naturally strayed towards its password, Harry utilized his Legilimency in order to snatch it away. After that, it was a simple matter of waiting for the Headmaster to leave school on Ministry business, and Harry went into the office at night, wearing the Cloak of Invisibility. There was indeed no ring anywhere.

After Geist's encouragement to open the Chamber of Secrets and recover what might potentially be the ring of Slytherin, Harry went into the second-floor female bathroom, under the cover of the Invisibility Cloak - keeping his eyes on the target and not staring at any of the girls surrounding him. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was down an empty corridor that was out of sight, and which most girls sort of assumed led to nowhere, due to unfinished construction. After repeating a set of hissed syllables in Parseltongue under Geist's careful guidance, a part of the wall opened up to admit Harry, allowing him to descend using a circular staircase.

"Is this seriously the only entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?" At this point, Harry was not hormonal enough to get easily embarrassed by walking into a girls' bathroom, but the experience of doing such a thing - especially in such a clandestine manner, in the middle of the day - was still a little harrowing.

It's the only secure entrance that I know about, Geist answered dryly. If you wanted the ones with deadly monsters, traps, and puzzles, you should've told me.

Harry descended the darkened steps with a glum expression. His path was sparsely illuminated by irregular torches; the light was unevenly distributed, but present in sufficient quantity that he was never completely blind as to where the next step was.

"Can you remind me why I'm doing this alone?"

The Invisibility Cloak can't fit several people under its concealing aegis. Also, Neville could get the wrong idea by hearing you speak Parseltongue. That's considerably difficult to explain, even if you have my memories.

After several minutes of walking down, deeper into the chalky, untreated atmosphere of the dungeon levels, and then underneath what might've been the Black Lake judging from the water-dripping cracks in the ceiling, it started to feel like Harry was about to reach the deepest part of Hogwarts. He started to hear cave sounds; a gentle stream running far away and the echo of rocks creaking and cracking under subterranean pressure. At this point, Harry felt safe that he wasn't being followed and that probably no one noticed his presence down here.

He removed the Cloak of Invisibility and promptly cast a Charm he'd learned in his free time. Its effects weren't much different from a standard Wand-Lighting Charm, but instead of being attached to his wand, the orb of luminescence orbited around him. If anyone was hoping to ambush him, they'd fire a spell at the light and miss.

I can feel it. We're getting near.

Ahead, the caves opened up; stalagmites and stalactites hanging around a darkened entry like the teeth of an enormous, stone beast. A single waterfall of murky water descended through a crack in the rocks, feeding into a natural underground pond. It reflected the white light floating around Harry's shoulders, casting wavering, aqua-blue patterns like amplified images of cells over the walls of the cave. The ancient, magical primordium here was deep and strong, dense and heavy like the earth in comparison to the surface's intangible mystical wind; suffusing every inch of stone, and every breath of air; the environment felt imposing and larger-than-life.

A single, nervous inhalation and Harry could feel an invigorating sensation in his lungs, then in his body; a paranormal shiver, almost like the magic in the oxygen unbonded from its material substrate, flooding into him as an electrifying, wakening jolt of vivacious power.

Slowly and carefully, Harry approached the rotund gate leading into the Chamber of Secrets. It was made from dark iron and studded with snake iconography; its lock consisted of seven steel cylinders kept in place by an inanimate snake. A single phrase in Parseltongue commanded the snake to animate and move, unlocking the door.

Excellent. Now- Geist's voice was drowned out by overwhelming torment.

Harry stopped and hissed, doubling over. His forehead scar burned up like a cosmic pulsar, with a sudden, drumming, berserk pain - a mind-consuming pain without reason, rhyme, or restraint - one that repeatedly flared with abrupt, knifelike agony, making him wince in something resembling a dancing cadence. Absently, Harry touched a hand up there, fingertips numb and tingly as though ants were marching across them, and pulled it away to see marks of fresh blood on his fingers; red, wet, greasy, and slimy. His scar was bleeding profusely, as though someone had aggravated and scratched open the wound; a blood waterfall emergent from a crack of lightning.

Something is... wrong, Geist remarked, his voice uncannily weak, slow, and absent; as though he were speaking from another room. It started to fade away into some outer void. Something... feels wrong.

An agitation that Harry couldn't quite describe in detail filled him - a sensation that was pure, explicit danger rendered into information that could be perceived by the mind on a conscious level. His breath hitched repeatedly, lungs unstable; creeping anxiety hammered and forged into mounting fear.

"Hey there, kid," said the raspy voice of an old man. A bolt of scarlet light formed in the entrance to the Chamber then sparked and hissed as it accelerated in his direction.

A hundred lessons of dueling training kicked in, within a hundredth of a second. His nerves sharpened, adrenal instincts engaged. Harry didn't bother with elegant flicks, but rather, swatted the incoming red petard aside with a full-arm Deflection Charm. He replied, lips moving automatically, wrist twitching in movement on its own, "Flipendo!"

A translucent bolt of kinetic energy shot in the approximate direction of the foe. A mild curiosity was apparent in his voice, as he answered, "Protego," and stopped the Knockback Jinx, dispersing its mighty force into nothingness. Nothing happened; no more attacks, no more spells or shuffled movement - a moment of silent repose.

As Harry quickly, desperately recovered his stance, into one prepared to attack and defend in equal measure, the scar was still twitching and surging with a sensation like someone was pouring napalm into it and pulling on it. Harry and the inexplicable attacker stared each other down, barely able to make one another's figures.

"Who are you?" Harry finally asked.

A dark, bitter chuckle came from the darkness. The man emerged from the Chamber's doorway, and Harry's eyes drank in his strange silhouette. The unknown individual wore a tattered gray robe. Resting on its chest was a faded badge with the mark of a hooded skull crossed by five, spiked wands. Aside from the robes, he was virtually mummified; covered in so many rolls of bandaging that making out his skin color was impossible under the lighting conditions of the cave. The only visible parts of his face were a psychotic, energized grin and widened bloodshot eyes, sadistically crinkled.

"Me? I'm a wonder a hundred years in the making," the man said, pointing a wand in Harry's direction with his arm slightly bent at the elbow - Harry frowned, because that was an indicator the man was trained in dueling and combat; enough to know such a stance would counter-act a Disarming Charm rather well.

Harry readied himself to defend against whatever spell the man decided to use. However, no incantation came. Nothing happened.

Suddenly, the unknown man stumbled back a step, looked up at the ceiling with sudden tears in his eyes - glinting in the strange half-darkness of the cave - then started to laugh maniacally, voice profoundly hoarse.

"Stupefy!" Harry cried out.

A ruse - one hand kept in extension, the man's wrist moved to cast a spell with his wand, seemingly without thought, in order to protect him. A see-through disk of energy formed in front of the bandaged man, its color a brilliant, translucent white-blue. It was a powerful Charm.

"Expelliarmus. Impedimenta!" Harry attempted to no avail, every spell crashing against the shield and dispersing promptly. He'd attuned his shield to energy-based Charms. A different approach was needed; Harry's vision was poor, but he managed to see an opportunity.

"Flipendo!"

A stalagmite detached with a pop and then clattered from the ceiling alongside the debris of small rocks. The man's eyes widened as the demise came from the same ceiling he'd been staring at, instead of facing Harry. There wasn't enough proper time to move his wand or to re-attune his Shield Charm. There was, however, more than enough time and space around him to dodge - and in doing so, expose himself to further attack; a part of the plan that Geist had posited. However, rather than doing any of that, the man's grin widened alongside his eyes as the stalagmite came, standing rooted to his spot, as though adamant to see what might happen should the falling projectile land.

He managed to let out a single, full, 'ha' in the half-second of time before impact, then screamed with his entire throat and body when the stalagmite smashed into his face, squashed his eyes, and pierced deeply into an eye socket. Somehow, by some miracle; perhaps wizard endurance or something more, it didn't kill him on the spot. The bandaged man stood there, a cave-bound picture frame of horrific gore placed in reality, the constant rhythm of his exhilarated and exhausted breath like a shuddering metronome; not unlike Harry's own raggedness caused by the animated agony spearing through his scar.

Harry's entire body was overwhelmed by numbness; a knot of trepidation laced in his stomach, pushing away at his internal organs as if prodding him to vomit.

No amount of after-hours combat training in an elegant Charms classroom, or grim memories of bodies carted away under tarps could've prepared him to see that amount of blood spread over a human face. He stepped back, horrified to see as the man's hand went up to his eyelid, spreading over the cheek, where blood trickled down in a stream.

The bandaged man clutched the stalagmite; then, with a slow, gradual application of force, like a syringe entering one's arm in reverse, began to pull it back. He screamed in fresh torment as this happened, only to breathe and then spit out a wad of bloodied saliva once the stalagmite was removed. He defiantly tossed away the heavy rock, its tip covered in dark fluid, and stood there, breathing and potentially considering the fact he'd lost an eyeball to a fallen cave-stone.

And then, as though the whole event and its conclusion was nothing more than a simple circus show with excellent visual effects, he again burst into a maddened laughter. Harry was equally terrified and confused, while the bandaged man spoke through his genuinely delighted laughter: "My eye! Hahaha! I'll never see again! Ha-ha-ha-ha!"

His laughter cut out suddenly, like someone pressing a button on a tape recorder.

"You're good, kid," the bandaged man said in an unamused tone. Then, in a frank, honest voice, "Incredible, even."

"Impedimenta!" Another rayburst of translucent force, simply to distract the man, as Harry reached into his robe's interior pocket and pulled out several, rune-scribed rocks. He scattered them around in a single throw, and then, on impact with the floor, the rocks expanded and sprouted additional igneous mass, growing into boulders. After a mere second of growing, the imperative rune of Saturn kicked in and enabled the secondary array, launching the man-sized boulders in a sequence of one-by-one attacks, giving Harry enough time to slip on the Invisibility Cloak while the bandaged man's eyes were occupied on responding to the attacks.

As soon as the entire thing was over, split and cracked pieces of rock surrounding him, the bandaged man chuckled in merriment. "Hiding, are we? How smart, boy! I'll give you five points! Five points to Hufflepuff indeed... However, there is a critical fact you didn't account for - Revelio!"

A streamer of pale cyan light rose above the man's head. It hovered for a second, then dissipated like mist. The bandaged man looked up in brief, sincere confusion, then gently tapped his wand as if checking to see whether or not it worked correctly.

"Ahem, Revelio." He repeated the spell, with identical results. A little frustrated by the event, the man grit his teeth and looked around. "Hmm..."

Realizing that combat wasn't about to restart - at least, not immediately - Harry started to walk past him, intending to strike unexpectedly from the back. Alternatively, if Harry was able to get close enough, he'd be able to apply a knock-out rune directly to the unknown wizard's nape.

The man, in the meantime, raised his hand and transformed a part of the floor into a fine, gray dust. He cast yet another spell, one that conjured a mighty gust, blowing the dust over the cave. Magically, none of it settled on Harry, blowing past - and somewhat, even through - him, as though the cloak's surface was dustophobic.

The bandaged man looked confused and stupefied, seemingly concluding that Harry was no longer present, having escaped at some point. He moved from his spot, in a sudden, rapid jog, in the direction of the stairs. Harry felt a mote of hesitation, uncertain whether to fire an attack in the man's back, or ignore him.

In the end, Harry allowed him to flee, or pursue a nonexistent enemy, or do whatever he was hellbent on doing. He'd taken a whole stalagmite to the eye - possibly the brain - and was relatively unphased, physically or psychologically, so Harry was glad that he wouldn't have to continue fighting him. A true freak of an opponent.

After entering the 'Antechamber' of Secrets and closing the gate behind himself, Harry slowly pulled off his Invisibility Cloak. Once the bandaged man left Harry's vicinity, the bleeding and pain in his scar dulled, then stopped completely. After that, Geist's presence slowly slithered back into Harry's consciousness, as though waking up.

Harry, on pure instinct, all but slammed his memories of the encounter into Geist's lap.

"I have several questions," Harry said. Uncharacteristically, he swore, "First, who the fuck was that?"

I haven't the faintest. An Azkaban escapee, potentially. That's an Azkaban prison uniform that he was wearing, Geist explained, then further specified: The robe, not the bandages. I'm assuming those are a... personal touch. However, no one's escaped from Azkaban in a heck of a long time, and even should he indeed be an ex-convict, it doesn't explain what he's doing in Hogwarts, in the Chamber of goddamn Secrets. And why, for that matter, your scar had such an adverse reaction to his presence. And why he's seemingly immune to dying to high-velocity rock impact right to his fucked-up head. Why did you allow him to escape?

"Are you kidding!?" Harry asked, in true affront. "You said it yourself, Geist! He didn't even seem to care about the hole in his face! I am not you - I'm not some prodigy in fighting terrible monsters. I am not dueling someone like that, especially to the death, if I can help it!"

Alright, calm down - point taken. Still, you made eye contact with him at several points; any clues?

Harry shook his head, feeling Geist's disappointment and sharing it. "Occlumens. Stupidly powerful, too - he didn't bother with standard occlusion techniques. Attempting to read his surface thoughts was like trying to read a stone wall. When I pressed further, I sensed an enormous mind with lots of memories, but its contents were so jumbled and moving around so rapidly I couldn't catch anything. Whatever brand of insanity he's got, it's pretty damn intense. How come the Basilisk didn't kill him?"

The Basilisk doesn't really leave her nest unless to hunt for sustenance, and it's under strict orders from me to not hurt or bother people. She wouldn't willingly do anything to hurt him, even if she was completely aware he'd managed to enter this place somehow. Whatever. It doesn't matter - we're in here now, and he's gone. Hopefully, he'll be spotted by the wards and someone will apprehend him.

"I doubt it."

Me too. But what can we do?.

---

All things considered, you haven't performed too badly, managing to evade and distract a foe using your accumulated skills - although, you get the feeling that your opponent wasn't fighting you seriously.

Now, however, you are in the Chamber of Secrets. 'Home, sweet home,' Geist says.

What do you wish to do?

[ ] Just Reclaim the Ring - Apparently, the artifact that Geist believes might be the Ring of Slytherin is gently resting on a plinth in a trophy alcove at the northern side of the Chamber of Secrets - which, itself, is more like a castle wing in size, than a single chamber; a bit of a misnomer, there.

Anyway, simply pluck the ring and leave as fast as possible. No point lagging in here, especially when that freak might decide to return anytime he pleases.

[ ] Moderate Exploration - Alongside the above, locate the Basilisk and speak with her, as an intermediary between her and Geist. Mainly, check up on her health and give her new orders to eat any potential intruders; yourself, obviously, excluded. Maybe also look around at some of the more interesting features.

[ ] Full Exploration - It's the weekend right now, so you might as well help yourself and stay here for a couple of hours, see what the legendary Chamber of Secrets has to offer. Neville might get worried about your disappearance, though.