"Harry Potter- Ravenclaw"Chapter 154: Rumors of the Chamber
Snape continued in his trademark icy tone, "Shall I notify The Daily Prophet for you as well? Oh, and one more thing—I need some help..."
"I'd better start labeling my cauldrons, just to make sure the only thing I ever find over the fire is a cauldron... not a hair curler."
Lockhart's smile seemed frozen in place, his raised hand stiff as a cured Spanish ham.
A silence followed—awkward, but so ridiculous it was almost impossible not to laugh.
Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, as if considering tying it into a bow.
The stern lines on Professor McGonagall's face softened; her lips twitched upward in the faintest hint of a smile.
Flitwick glanced around and noticed that even the magical photographs on the walls wore identical expressions—embarrassed and ill at ease.
He ducked his head, shoulders trembling as he tried to hide a chuckle.
Sprout coughed several times, finally regaining her composure.
Hearing Snape's biting sarcasm, Harry puffed out his cheeks, struggling not to burst out laughing.
Ron looked much the same, but he couldn't hold it in—he let out a series of snorting giggles.
Snape arched an eyebrow at the noise. "It seems Mr. Weasley still has something to say..."
That was all the cue Harry and his friends needed. They flung open the door and bolted, calling back, "Good night, Professors!"
...
Back in the office, only Filch remained truly heartbroken, and the other professors were quick to notice.
Sprout was the first to speak. "I should get back to the greenhouses—those Mandrakes need extra care if we want Mrs. Norris restored quickly."
Professor McGonagall gently gathered up Mrs. Norris. "Filch, I'll take her to see Madam Pomfrey."
Filch nodded numbly. "Professor McGonagall... I'll come with you."
Dumbledore gave Lockhart a polite nod. "Thank you for the use of your office, Professor Lockhart. We'll be on our way."
Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Snape turned a corner and ascended a different staircase.
As they climbed, Dumbledore asked again, "Nothing at all? No clues?"
Flitwick shook his head. "I tried listening charms and only picked up ordinary noises. I even used tracking spells—no magical residue at all."
Snape added, face still like stone, "No sign of Dark Magic, either."
"Could it have been an Animagus?" Flitwick mused, frowning.
"Wyzett's done some remarkable magic on that 'siphon tube'—no one's ever tried anything like it before."
"From what I know about Animagi, at his current stage, Wyzett should be able to sense anything unusual."
"Usually, it's a second heartbeat, but it's possible he might pick up on other oddities as well."
"Why not just ask him directly?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "He's not like Potter—he won't keep secrets from us."
"That's quite true," Flitwick replied, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Apart from his reluctance to rest, he's the least troublesome student I've ever had!"
"In that case... let's speak with him tomorrow," Dumbledore agreed. "Filius, how is Wyzett progressing with Weather Charms?"
"He's mastered the basics," Flitwick said. "We're focusing on building a solid foundation before moving on to influencing the weather itself..."
"To use emotion to shape the weather takes years of understanding. I haven't taught him that yet..."
"I know he can control himself, but I can't help but worry. If he ever lost control... well, it could be dangerous."
...
Dumbledore lingered in conversation with Flitwick and Snape for a while longer before returning to his office.
He laced his fingers together, gazing at the ever-aging Fawkes, lost in thought. At last, he raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
A silver phoenix burst from his wand tip, then shrank down until it was no larger than his palm...
On the way back to their common rooms, neither house could keep quiet.
Ravenclaw and Gryffindor swapped information, sharing everything they'd picked up.
Ravenclaw students supplied actual books as evidence to prove—or disprove—the existence of the Chamber.
Gryffindor contributed wild rumors. They weren't backed by any facts, but they were certainly entertaining—and sometimes downright frightening.
Wyzett didn't join in directly; instead, he listened carefully, hoping to pick out any useful details from the sea of stories.
Unfortunately, every rumor the Gryffindors told, he'd already seen in its original form in the library.
In truth, stories and rumors about Slytherin's Chamber only began spreading in earnest in the late seventeenth century.
A major event in the wizarding world at the end of that century changed everything:
In 1698, the various Ministries of Magic signed the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and wizards began to withdraw from Muggle society, constructing a hidden world of their own.
For the few pure-blood families of the time, this was seen as a humiliating concession to Muggles.
That resentment soon turned into open hostility, and anti-Muggle sentiment spread through the pure-blood community.
These families expanded the notion of "pure wizard," developing the theory of pure-blood supremacy—claiming that only pure-blood wizards were truly superior.
To justify their beliefs, they quoted Salazar Slytherin's works, arguing for the existence—and superiority—of pure-blood wizards.
The Ministry of Magic tried to debunk these ideas, but their efforts did little to curb the spread.
The pure-blood families insisted the Ministry was suppressing wizards, leading to their eventual downfall.
Such conspiracy theories found fertile ground, and "pure-blood supremacy" quickly gained followers.
With the spread of these beliefs, busybodies began inventing all sorts of tales about Salazar Slytherin, and the legend of the Chamber of Secrets became the most popular of all.
A hidden chamber, unknown to the other founders, was the perfect blend of mystery and wizarding tradition.
...
The conversation was lively all the way back, but when the Ravenclaws finally reached their common room, they felt more exhausted than usual.
They'd even compiled a reading list, planning to visit the library first thing in the morning and borrow every book they could find.
Wyzett had contributed several titles of his own.
After bidding Luna goodnight, Wyzett made his way to the dormitory, washed up, and got ready for bed.
But as he sat down, he noticed something on his pillow—a tiny Patronus.
It was a phoenix, exquisitely crafted and no bigger than his palm.
Wyzett asked cautiously, "Headmaster Dumbledore?"
As if in response, the phoenix spoke in Dumbledore's gentle voice, "Wyzett, if you have time, please come to the hospital wing at noon."
The Patronus didn't fade. After a brief pause, it added, "Come after your afternoon nap—make sure you get some rest. What's coming next... will take quite a bit of energy."
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