6.

"I think you drove my father insane, Tom." Eric Nott says the next morning, after the daily post had delivered a rather large parcel and a letter to him. Tom raises a single eyebrow in question, curious but also far too hungry to waste time verbally responding. He hadn't had much of an appetite the night before and is suffering for it this morning. The other boy gestures at the letter in his hand, giving it a light backhanded flick. "His letter is just full of rants about how he's certain Marvolo is a name he knows but he can't remember why. He's sent me a bunch of books he thinks might have what you're after and would like to know who Marvolo is if you figure it out."

"It's a good thing it's the weekend." Cessair comments after taking one look at the parcel. It hasn't even been open yet and it's clear there's a substantial number of books inside. Tom pities the bird that had to carry it here.

"You can have these as long as you like, Father says. He hasn't read most of them in a while." Eric continues. Rather than open the parcel, he just passes it over the table to Tom. There's barely enough space on Eric's side, let alone his, and the books end up sitting on the chair beside him. They almost reach his chest. "If it's not in there, he'll send you more. He just didn't want to... overwhelm you."

This earns a few amused reactions from those around him.

"Your father's definition of overwhelming must be overwhelming in itself." Tom glances back down at the books once more. He does have quite a bit of reading ahead of him.

"He just gets excited about wizarding families. They're so interconnected and some of the drama in the history can get pretty heated."

"Well, thank him for his excitement."

Hours pass as Tom flicks from one book to another. Eric wasn't lying when he said the wizarding families tend to find themselves in the centre of drama. While they frequently marry one another regardless of relations, that doesn't stop them from fighting with other families over everything from inheritance to blood. Some families' pureblood status are affirmed in one book, then disproven in the next, all depending on how the author felt about the family in question. However, there is not one mention of a Marvolo in all the books he's read. The day is dragging on, most students are preparing for a trip to Hogsmeade, and Tom remains.

He picks up the next book, one on older wizarding families. Everything else he's read so far has had a focus on the modern families. He'd assumed, if Marvolo was his grandfather's name, then he would have more of a chance of finding him in something more recent. Perhaps he'd assumed wrong.

He barely gets through the introduction when he's interrupted. Interruptions during his reading have been rare so far, as he'd chosen a rather secluded alcove overlooking the grounds. With most students more focused on their outing, the traffic through the corridor had been minimal. Until now.

"Hello, Tom!" A far too jovial voice calls out. Tom looks up from his book to see the half-giant Hagrid approaching him. Despite being younger, the boy is already almost twice the size of him, dwarfing all his classmates. It was what caught Tom's attention first, as it does most people. But, where most people saw an oddity, some great oaf that quickly because a source of jokes, Tom saw someone who was an outcast just like he was. An outcast who, more importantly, has a surprising knowledge of magical creature. There were benefits to befriending someone of his size and knowledge, even if it had been a risk even associating with him at first. These days, Tom is popular enough that he doesn't have to worry about that anymore.

"Hello, Rubeus. How are you?" Tom asks, as if he hasn't just been interrupted from some of what could easily be the most important reading of his life. The younger boy doesn't seem to notice the book in his lap, or the stack beside him.

"Good! It's good ter be back at school, don't you think?" Tom just nods. This is one thing they definitely agree one — a strong preference for school over home. Tom doesn't know what Hagrid's home life is like. He knows he has a father from the occasional reference to him and that their relationship seems to be fine, but that's all. He doesn't ask, because one wrong question and he'll be listening to the half-giant's entire life story. Tom suspects he just likes Care for Magical Beasts. "Oh, what're yeh reading?"

"This one is A History of Important Wizarding Families. It's about, uh, exactly what the title says." Tom answers as he glances at the cover again.

"Is that for History?"

"No, it's personal reading."

"Yeh've got a strange taste in personal reading, Tom." Hagrid comments and Tom can't blame him. At least this book has been slightly interesting as, like Eric had said, wizarding families love their drama. "Anyway, I have ter go. I've got detention again."

"So soon? What did you do this time?"

"They caugh' me wrestling trolls. I was out after hours, so I deserve it." Tom can't help but let out an amused chuckle at the thought of Hagrid wrestling trolls. At this point, it hardly surprises him — the boy has a reputation for getting into extraordinary situations — but it doesn't make it any less unbelievable. "If yeh want an actually interesting book, I'll lend you my book on reptiles later."

"That would be nice. Thank you, Rubeus." As the younger boy continues on, Tom open his book back to where he'd paused. He rereads a sentence about how families are constantly changing, especially with shifting views on blood purity, and lets out a soft sigh. Unless by some cruel twist of fate, he really doubts Marvolo is going to be mentioned in this preface. He flicks forward, skipping the introduction, and opens on a chapter about Arthurian families. While Merlin is not known to have any children, Morgan le Fay had a short line that died out due to the suspicions that they too were Dark wizards. There have been rumours of descendants to either family, but most claims have been found to be unsubstantiated. The rest of the families in this section are much smaller, names Tom doesn't recognise, and there is no mention of a Marvolo.

The next chapter is the founders. Unlike Merlin and Morgan, the founders generally had far better luck at securing their lines. The Gryffindors, now Pertingers, had moved to America to teach at Ilvermony and settled there. Hufflepuff turned to Smith, with the current heir being a Madam Hepzibah Smith. Ravenclaw had a shorter line, ending abruptly one generation later.

With a sigh, Tom pauses to rest his eyes, rubbing them tiredly. He's been reading for so long, all the words are starting to blur together. Some of the pages are interesting — or would be more interesting, were he not so intent on finding one singular name — but he doesn't understand Mr. Nott's passion for wizarding families. He doesn't think he could dedicate his life to something like this.

Out on the grounds, students are starting to head off to Hogsmeade. Tom wishes he could go with them. Instead, he turns to the page on Slytherin.

Of the four founders, Slytherin's line suffered the worst. So desperate to keep themselves pure, they interbred with one another far more severely than some of the other obsessed families. And when they weren't interbreeding, they were wasting their inheritance, each generation acting as if they were as rich as the last. It didn't take long for them to lose it all, until all they had were a few heirlooms, an ability to speak with snakes, and a violent disposition. This piques Tom's attention as hope begins to blossom in his chest; he's learnt that speaking with snakes isn't a common ability, but he's never determined how uncommon it is. If it's a common Slytherin trait, then perhaps his lineage is greater than he thought — even if the current descendants leave much to be desired. Flicking through the pages describing the Ilvermony founder's fate, Tom finally lands on the section naming the current descendants.

The Slytherin (Gaunt) line is continued by: Morfin Gaunt (F: Marvolo Gaunt † , M: Desdemona Gaunt †) and Tom Marvolo Riddle II (F: Tom Riddle I, M: Merope Riddle † ).

Tom can't believe it. Not only is his grandfather's name there, but his as well. He has family. Poor, inbred family, but there is someone out there. Two, in fact, if the crosses are anything to go by. All this time, they could have realised Tom had family if someone had just bothered to research his name. Unless they did, and his family simply didn't want him. With the importance they clearly place on blood purity, his mother must have been disobeying them all by marrying a muggle. While it doesn't explain his father's absence, it would certainly explain why this Morfin Gaunt would have no interest in him. Regardless, anger bubbles away inside Tom. Someone has, yet again, failed him.

Discovering he had family was supposed to be a triumphant moment, but all Tom feels is upset and abandoned. It was easier believing they were all dead — even his father who, while he had no reason to believe it, had died enough times in his dreams to count. Now he's barely better than Lux.

Though, unlike Lux, Tom is a Slytherin. That alone should hopefully carry some weight amongst the others. They might be willing to overlook his abandonment if they realised he was the heir to Slytherin. And being a Slytherin isn't without its gifts — as Tom rereads the page, he discovers Salazar had an inclination for leaving his descendants with things to continue his work or separate themselves from the rest. Apparently, somewhere within Hogwarts, it's rumoured he even left a chamber, its contents a near mystery. One particularly arrogant descendant had decided to flaunt his knowledge of the chamber, describing the library and study inside in great detail. He was disowned soon after for spilling secrets.

Tom Marvolo Gaunt, heir to Slytherin, Tom thinks to himself, testing the words in his head. It's not perfect and still carries some potentially troubling reputations, but it's a clear improvement from his previous status as 'unknown orphan'.

With one mystery solved, Tom is now faced with a new one: the secret chamber. He realises, closing this book, that he has more reading ahead of him.

*

Dillion must have gotten into another fight. As Tom enters his Transfiguration classroom, he passes the boy leaving; the Ravenclaw walks past with an incredible limp and a permanent grimace on his face. Tom has never met a Pureblood so quick to resort to physical violence. He would have thought having grown up around magic would make it easier for Dillion to remember he has a wand.

The relative peace of the classroom is quickly disturbed with the crashing of multiple chairs. Tom turns to see Dillion at the centre of it, lying amongst the chairs as he struggles to get to his feet. There are two Gryffindor boys standing above him, but the way neither go to help him makes Tom suspect they don't mean well. This is only confirmed when he overhears one of them say, "Can't even walk properly. It's not wonder your parents don't want you."

"At least I'm not a borderline squib, Michaels." Dillion retorts, slipping on one of the chairs he'd been using as support. This response clearly upsets Michaels who, much like Dillion, seems prepared to resolve this with his fists. But, before he can attack the Ravenclaw, Dumbledore makes his presence in the classroom known.

"Michaels, Lux, that is enough." He calls out, stopping the fight before it can really begin. It certainly stops Michaels and his friend who, now under the watchful eye of Dumbledore, back off and go to leave. Dillion, on the other hand, seems to be undeterred by the professor's presence. As most of the attention moves away from him, the Ravenclaw wordlessly fires off three spells before Dumbledore even has a chance of disarming him. By the time his wand is flying from his hand, Michaels is writhing on the ground as a rash grows over him and his friend's legs have turned to jelly. Michaels screams in agony, as if he were under the Crutiatus curse but all his symptoms suggest a stinging jinx. Every time he moves, it's as if his body is glued to the ground.

Dumbledore's first priority is clearly to reverse whatever spells they're under — which takes him two attempts, a feat on Dillion's behalf that even impresses Tom.

Dillion, as he watches the scene, looks as though he might faint. All his weight seems to be resting on the table he's using to support himself, entirely body shaking. For a few seconds, his eyes close and Tom is certain he's about to fall again. But, as Dumbledore's attention turns to him, the Ravenclaw's eyes open and he looks up at the Transfiguration professor wearily.

"I said that was enough, Lux." The man says softly. By now, Dillion's silent outburst has gathered the attention of students both coming and going, likely cutting Dumbledore's lecture short. "Fifty points from Ravenclaw for not listening to your professor and attacking two of your classmates."

Dillion doesn't say anything. He just glowers at the older man.

"Now get to your next class before you're late." As Dillion leaves, storming off as best as his limp will allow, Dumbledore watches him go with a thoughtfully concerned look. The sort of look one might give an animal while deciding whether or not it's dangerous, mixed with the pity teachers get for their 'troubled students'. Tom recognises that look, one he's received far too many times from the professor. No matter how charming he acts, no matter how good his grades and behaviour are, Tom will never be anything more than the scary orphan to Dumbledore.

There had been a time, briefly, when Tom might have almost considered Dumbledore a father figure. Dumbledore had done very little to earn such a title, but he had fit the role of a potential parent. He had come to Tom, accepted him for what he was, and offered him a place away from the orphanage. The glimmer of hope that has blossomed up in Tom had been enough for him to once again grow desperate for any kind of parental affection. He had worked hard to become the top student in Transfiguration just to earn the praise of Dumbledore, answered all the questions in class, and did whatever he could just to have a few seconds of the man's attention. This lasted a year before Tom realised Dumbledore's detachment remained unchanging.

He did, however, discover that Dumbledore was rather suspicious of him. He didn't have to do anything, simply be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the professor would treat him as if he had done something wrong. This led to a brief period in second year where he would go out of his way to put himself in such situations. Never enough to incriminate himself, always enough to get Dumbledore's attention. But it got boring after a few months and he went back to behaving. At least then he could feel like he was spiting Dumbledore by giving him absolutely nothing to be suspicious of.

"Alright, class, we've started off with a bit of excitement but now let's settle down." Dumbledore announces after ensuring the two Gryffindor boys were fine, as the rest of his class settles down at their desks. Tom takes a seat at the front alongside the other Slytherins. On his right, however, sits one of the Hufflepuff girls. He can't remember her name, but he's certain he'll find out later. Dumbledore sure does love ensuring everyone gets a turn at volunteering, whether they like it or not. "Today, we will be making things vanish. A vanishing spell is likely one of the harder spells you will face during your O.W.Ls, so expect to practice it a few times before you are able to cast it successfully."

At the front of the class, Dumbledore demonstrates on the spell on a snail, causing the unsuspecting creature to suddenly disappear. Tom dedicates every detail of the incantation to memory as he prepares for the challenge. He may no longer seek Dumbledore's attention so desperately, but he still prefers to be the top of the class. There's satisfaction in beating whoever is Dumbledore's favourite, usually a Gryffindor — or, in this case, probably a Hufflepuff. The professor doesn't seem fond of Slytherins.

"Now, we will see who has done the reading. Who can tell me where vanishing objects go?" Dumbledore asks with a humorous smile on his lips, looking out at the hands that rise amongst the students. Tom's hand is one of them. There are very few things Tom enjoys more at the orphanage than reading a new magic book from cover to cover until he's memorised the contents. "Miss Mulberry?"

"It disappears, sir." The girl responds rather dryly.

"You are certainly not wrong, though I suspect you are simplifying it just a bit. Five points to Hufflepuff for doing the reading before class, however." Dumbledore is far too liberal with his points. Tom is almost tempted to find some reason to punish a Hufflepuff later, just to steal those points away. "Tom — can you expand on Miss Mulberry's answer?"

Tom had once thought his first name basis had meant some kind of special treatment. These days, he suspects Dumbledore does it on purpose, knowing Tom doesn't like his name. Perhaps Tom will create a new name, one Dumbledore is too scared to say. One all witches and wizards fear to speak. Then he will have control over his name again.

"It goes into everything and nothing, as the spell sends it into non-being." Tom answers almost word for word, switching it up only because he knows Dumbledore prefers it when students don't regurgitate their textbooks verbatim. The professor nods his head, but there's none of the warmth Mulberry received for her barely adequate response.

"Very good," is all Tom receives. No points, no smile, nothing.

When it comes time to practice the spell on their own snails, Tom accidentally explodes his snail in his anger. He sits there, staring at the slimy remnants, simmering. He knows exactly where he went wrong — the theory was there, he was just a bit too forceful with his magic. A little more care and the snail would have simply vanished, exploded into even smaller pieces so the carnage wouldn't be as noticeable. Except, when he looks up, he sees Dumbledore watching him in concern.

Dumbledore thinks he did it intentionally, is all Tom can think as he makes eye contact with the man. It's clear he must suspect him of something, but his inability to read the professor means Tom has to fill in the blanks. Dumbledore already thinks of him as the bunny-killing, child-traumatising orphan (neither of which were his fault), why not snail killer as well?

Tom manages to make the snail guts vanish after two tries. It's less tries than anyone else, but he's unsure whether its form might have affected that. Dumbledore certainly seems to think so as he comments, "Smaller, inanimate objects tend to be easier than larger, alive objects, but it's a good start."

Tom wishes he could make Dumbledore vanish.

After their break, Tom has Divination with Dillion. The younger has beat Tom to class, already waiting outside with his friend. Unlike the rest of the class, he's sitting on the ground, legs stretched out in front of him while the Ravenclaw girl he's so often with stands over him. In fact, quite a few students have beat him. Tom had been so engrossed in his reading — which didn't provide many answers on where Slytherin's chamber is — that he'd almost lost track of time entirely. It was only his friends' departure that pulled him from his studies.

"You should have seen Dumbledore's face!" Dillion exclaims, clearly regaling the events from Transfiguration. There's far too much laughter in his voice. It's a good thing Dumbledore isn't here, or he might actually have reason for concern. "I thought he was going to expel me."

"You shouldn't be so happy about that." The girl scolds, nudging his leg with her shoe. This receives a sharp hiss of pain as he pulls his leg back, rubbing it gingerly. As the door to the classroom opens and students begin climbing out, she helps Dillion to his feet. "Expulsion goes on your record. It wouldn't look good if you wanted a ministry job."

"I don't want a ministry job," is Dillion's retort. He sounds unnecessarily bitter about this. However the conversation ends there as the Ravenclaw boy notices Tom, raising his hand in silent greeting. Once they've made it into the classroom, they split off into their pairs and take a seat. Following Dillion, the pair find themselves in the same seats as last time, much to Tom's dismay. He'd prefer somewhere closer to the centre, but clearly the younger has different ideas.

"What did you do to your legs?" Tom asks, curiosity getting the better of him as he watches the boy rub his legs once again. Dillion looks confused as to why Tom is asking such a question as if he'd forgotten he's been walking with a limp all day. Then he shrugs.

"I had detention with Pringle. He knows how to make a spell hurt." Dillion explains, stretching his legs before tucking them under the desk. They rest near Tom and the brunet can just tell by glancing at them that they're expensive. A dotted pattern decorates the toes and the stitching is what Tom suspects might be an unorthodox white. "I'm almost certain he's enchanted the wounds so they hurt more than they should, but I don't know."

"You ought to be more careful." This makes Dillion grin, amusement clear on his face. Tom doesn't like it.

"That's what Solas says." He answers, giving a name to the Ravenclaw girl's face as he nods in her direction. Then, as the professor begins moving to the front of the classroom, his attention moves to their teacher. Tom is still looking at him as he watches focus settle over his expression, the calmest he thinks he'll ever see Dillion. Of course, this only lasts a few seconds before the brunet decides he wants to play with the crystal ball once again. As he looks into the ball, he asks, "Should I be more careful?"

The crystal ball remains unchanging.

"I'll take that as a no." Dillion decides, earning an eye roll from Tom.

"Let's get to it, guys. It's a Monday, perfect day for getting into trances." Professor Mancio announces, receiving silence almost immediately. Today, he's dressed in a monochrome shirt and pants combination, both blue, and looks as muggle as ever. Tom briefly wonders if he is a muggleborn. It would certainly explain his choice in fashion. "Today, we're going to practice some meditation. One of the most important aspects of divination is getting into the mindset. You're going to get useless dreams if you go to sleep stressed; but if you take some time to clear your mind, you might get something of substance. On that note, has anyone had any interesting dreams since our last class?"

A few hands rise. Tom's doesn't. He still hasn't dreamt once, though his dream journal would suggest otherwise. He wrote what he would think is an absolutely phenomenal story about a tea party with a giraffe last night, which apparently means upcoming hardships and an inability to achieve his dreams at the moment. The textbook really has an explanation for every little symbol.

"Let's here some." Mancio says before pointing at one of the students with raised hands at the front.

"I dreamt I was drowning." One boy responds simply.

"And what do you think that means?"

"I shouldn't go near the lake." This earns some quiet chuckles from across the classroom, including Dillion. As he hears the amusement from the rest of the room — even the teacher — Tom forces himself to chuckle along with them.

"Possibly. It might also mean you're currently afraid of committing to something." Mancio continues and the boy shrugs. "Anyone else? Dillion — what did you dream about?"

"I dreamt there was fire everywhere and I was burning alive." The calmness in Dillion's tone, contrasted with what he's saying, is almost unsettling. Almost. He describes his dream as casually as if he were describing the weather. "It was fine, though. I wasn't scared or in pain. Just on fire."

"We have water and fire. I'm sensing an elemental theme here." Mancio comments, looking between his two volunteers. "What do you think your dream meant, Dillion?"

"The book says fire is either a symbol of change or passion, usually, and that my calmness probably means it's a positive change."

"Very good." The Divination professor claps his hands together once before he begins pacing, moving from one side of the class to the other. "Today, we're all going to relax. We want to find what helps us settle into a meditative state and turn our brains off. So, we're all going to get on the floor now and lie down." When no one moves, Mancio urges the students forward, "Come on. On the floor."

Slowly, students begin moving from their desks and onto the space in the front of the classroom. Tom gets up before Dillion, taking a few steps forward before stopping. He's not grateful for the younger's choice in seating as it places him in the corner of the classroom. If he's going to be trying to relax, he'd rather not be exposed. Dillion lies down with far more ease than Tom, closing his eyes before the older boy has even lied down.

"You can close your eyes, leave them open, whatever is going to get you relaxed. The important thing is you free yourself from as many distractions as possible." Mancio explains as he navigates his way through the students, separating friends that seem more focused on the novelty of being on the ground than the ask. "If you manage to see anything while doing this, excellent, but it's not the end of the world if you don't. Much like the dream journal, this is just practice."

"Sir, what are we even doing?" One girl asks, before bursting into embarrassed, quiet giggles.

"Good question. Once you're all settled, I'm going to walk you through getting into a meditative state. The goal is to, essentially, almost fall asleep. 'Almost' being the key word — don't actually go to sleep." Tom sees Mancio pass over him. He looks rather tall from this angle. "With any luck, you'll entered an altered state of consciousness and you might get a vision. The important thing here is simply entering the state. Now, if you want, close your eyes. Let go of your surroundings and focus on yourself. All that matters now is you."

As Mancio's calm voice walks them through their breathing, Tom allows his eyes to close. He follows the directions, breathing in and out every time the professor says. Deep breath in. Hold. Deep breath out. Eventually, he stops listening to the professor entirely, following his own pattern. And then, after a little longer, he stops even hearing the professor.

Tom feels detached from his body, floating. It's a new sensation, something simultaneously calming and wrong-feeling. He doesn't know what to make of it, but doesn't give himself any opportunity to contemplate it lest he pull himself out of whatever state it is. Behind his eyes, all he can see is darkness. Not the deep red shadows of his eyelids — darkness. It's the same empty, pitch black he's met with when he dreams. This sparks some frustration that he can't even escape while meditating. Even now, he's incapable of dreaming.

The darkness continues onwards for what feels like forever. While Tom doesn't move, he feels as if he's moving through the darkness. He breathes in; he breathes out. The darkness continues to cloak him. It's like it's some living entity, simultaneously sentient and insentient. This feels different to his dreams. There are hushed whispers all around him now, growing louder with each step he takes forward. The darkness shifts, shapes taking form within the darkness, and he finds himself on the second floor of Hogwarts. The feeling of being close to a discovery rests in his gut, even though he doesn't know what he's looking for.

Tom's trance is interrupted abruptly and violently. Right as he's certain he's about to reach an answer, a scream breaks through the silence and jolts him back into the classroom. He sits up suddenly, eyes wide open, as he looks to the source of the screaming — a Slytherin girl, still lying down. Her body rises and contorts as if fighting against her and Mancio rushes to her. He doesn't wake her, only places careful hands on her shoulders to keep her steady.

The girl's screaming begins to form words, repeating like a broken, tortured record, "THE DARK LORD HAS RETURNED! THE DARK LORD HAS RETURNED!"

It's only once her screams dissolved into unintelligible sobs again that Mancio makes any effort to pull her from her trance. He speaks slowly, softly, too softly for Tom to hear from where he's sitting.

"Wonder who the Dark Lord is..." Dillion muses aloud, still lying on the floor. Tom glances down at him briefly as the scene begins to settle, the girl now awake but shaken. Tom lacks an answer. He assumes from the title alone that it is related to the Dark Arts, but his studies into those have been limited by the library's contents. None of them have made any mention of a Dark Lord.

There's a sharp prick in Tom's finger and he looks to discover blood is now forming from a small scratch. He brings the finger to his mouth, hoping that might solve that problem.

"I think we had better spend the rest of this lesson revising tasseomancy. I think we could all use some tea." Mancio announces, helping the Slytherin girl back to her seat. Once she's seated, he begins moving around the students, to the front of the class. "That, however, was an excellent example of the sort of trance we are trying to enter — if a rather upsetting one for Miss Hinde. Ten points to Slytherin."

As they return to their seats, Dillion asks, "Did you see anything when you were meditating?"

"Just darkness." Tom answers, deciding to leave out what he actually saw. He's not sure what it meant, if it meant anything, and he doesn't want to accidentally reveal something to the younger before he even understands it. The brunet stares at him for a few long seconds, before nodding his head.

"Yeah, me too." Something in the way Dillion says that makes Tom think it's not true.

Dillion chooses not to disclose that, in the darkness, he had seen something. Someone. For most of it, he had thought he was going to fail another divination exercise — he had been staring at darkness, probably the back of his eyes, for minutes. But then, the darkness turned into shadows, and from them stepped none other than the boy sitting across from him.

As if heralding Tom's arrival, all Dillion could hear were Hinde's screams of, "THE DARK LORD HAS RETURNED!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I keep getting a little too invested in info-dropping bits and pieces of lore or magic that have almost 0 importance. Who needs to know I made up a Gryffindor descendant that moved to Ilvermony? No one!

With any luck, the content of the chapters will improve once I stop trying to avoid timeskipping to explain how he's found the chamber in like two chapters