19 March 1993, Hogwarts
In the heart of Hogwarts, where the towering spires and ivy-clad walls held centuries of enchantment and secrets, Albus Dumbledore sat in his office and stifled the urge to blast the whole thing into oblivion. It was only the soothing whispers of the light that calmed him enough to objectively analyze his situation.
To say that Albus Dumbledore was frustrated would be an understatement. He was already exhausted; having barely gotten any sleep ever since the whole fiasco with the Chamber of Secrets, which ended up with an unconscious boy who lived and a muggleborn student who had her soul displaced into a diary somehow. He had to call in the Unspeakables for that, and in the event that they couldn't help, Albus could use Ms Granger to increase control over the child of the prophecy by dangling a potential cure in front of him. He honestly didn't know if he could do it, and even if he could, it would take a significant amount of time. Time that he wouldn't waste unless it helped him and his cause.
As for the attacks, Albus knew that Tom Riddle had to have something to do with them. The headmaster always tracked down the heritage of every attending student, to either collect them or profile them as threats. He even went to every muggleborn's home to make sure they didn't have any hidden magical heritage.
So, yeah, he knew that no one in the castle had any connection to the Gaunt family, and that just left Lord Voldemort as the main suspect.
To be perfectly honest, the entire situation was baffling. If he hadn't heard young Neville's tale about what happened, he never would have guessed it. Unfortunately, there were many holes in his story, the glaring one being that there was no sign of the Chamber of Secrets in the Undercroft. He had checked himself, and there was no snake engraving, no sign of magic at all, really.
He had ended up checking if the boy's memories were manipulated in any way but found no sign of mind magic. The boy was convinced that he was right, but everything else pointed to it not having happened.
What a baffling little mystery…
A knock distracted Albus from his thoughts and with a wave of his hand, his office's door opened, revealing the boy of the hour, a potential clue in the whole mess. Harry Potter was a student known for his cleverness, his cunning, and his maturity, that's not to mention his prodigal talent when it comes to magic. He was one of his most promising recruits, probably as a spy in the Dark, or maybe even a frontline fighter if war breaks down when Tom inevitably returns.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began, his voice as gentle as he could make it, "I'm glad that you took time out of your day to speak with me."
"It's nothing, headmaster. But I will admit to being curious about the reason you asked me to be here."
"Well, as you probably know, young Neville was found unconscious, next to Hermione Granger, in a secret room in the castle. Fortunately, he woke up earlier today, and I have to say that his account of the events that transpired. Events that include you, Mr. Potter."
Young Harry's eyes widened, his expression a masterful blend of surprise and innocence, "I don't know what you're talking about, headmaster. I remember vividly staying in the dormitory the night he was attacked."
"And normally, I would be sceptical, but if you are involved in what happened inside the Chamber of Secrets, it is imperative that I know what happened. The safety of our students is paramount."
The boy frowned slightly, "I was under the impression that you returned in a purely ceremonial manner, and not fully as the headmaster."
"That would be the case, but it seemed that the Board was eager to get me back, with Mr. Longbottom having disappeared on the exact night I was suspended in. They practically ran to stop my suspension; some even said some very unsavoury things about a certain Lucius Malfoy. Oh, where was I? Ah, right, what happened in the Chamber of Secrets, Mr. Potter."
"I don't know," young Harry answered with a shrug, "It's quite the tale, isn't it? A hidden chamber beneath the castle, a monster controlled by the Heir of Slytherin, a boy heroically slaying the monster with a sword. Seems almost unbelievable…"
"And how did you know about the sword?"
"Ron Weasley has a big mouth. He talked to Longbottom and kept bragging that his friend killed a Basilisk of all things. Hard to believe, isn't it? That a student with less than two years of magical education could somehow slay a monster that massacred hundreds of beast hunters at the same time, and without even using magic. Although, I didn't know that Longbottom said that I was involved in any way…"
Damn, that Weasley boy. It took a few hours for Albus to keep things together, and it was more than enough time for rumours to spread. Merlin knows that very few things stay secret in Hogwarts, "A very good point, but I am curious as to why you believe that this tale to be false. I remember you saying previously that you were sure that the beast was a Basilisk."
"Perhaps it is a Basilisk… And the whole reason why I haven't said anything about it is because I don't have any proof, just guesses."
"Are you saying that Mr. Longbottom is lying?"
Harry's shoulders slumped, his expression morphing into practised vulnerability, "I don't know what happened to Neville, but I can say for certain that I have no part of whatever adventure he experienced. I was in my dormitory, the night he was found. I don't think anyone with a fraction of self-preservation instinct would willingly fight a Basilisk. I don't know what to say, other than that it's not me. Maybe Longbottom imagined it all?"
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