"Harry Potter- Ravenclaw"Chapter 193: Caught Red-Handed?
"A Chamber entrance that only opens to Parseltongue... No wonder no one ever found it back then," Professor McGonagall remarked with awe. "I'll go down first!"
Before the words had even left her lips, she shrank rapidly. In the blink of an eye, she had transformed into a small tabby cat and darted into the pipe ahead of them.
"Bubble-Head Charm! Night Vision!"
Wyzett cast the Bubble-Head Charm, enveloping himself in a shimmering membrane, then leapt in as the second to enter.
With the Night Vision Charm active, he could just make out Professor McGonagall up ahead.
Unlike his own awkward sliding, the tabby cat that Professor McGonagall had become was astonishingly agile—she moved as if the pipe were a level corridor, springing gracefully forward and quickly vanishing from his sight.
If she were just an ordinary tabby, there was no way she could manage that, Wyzett thought as he slid along.
This effortless movement through the pipes... not a speck of grime on her fur... She must be using magic, he reasoned.
Which meant—could an Animagus cast spells while transformed? Or did it grant some unique magical abilities?
...
He had no idea how long he slid, but finally the steep pipe leveled out, and Wyzett tumbled out onto a floor littered with bones.
He looked around, but saw neither Professor McGonagall in her human form, nor the tabby cat Animagus.
Tabby cats were certainly good at hiding—Professor McGonagall must have used that advantage to scout ahead.
Wyzett didn't rush forward. He slipped quietly into a shadowy corner of the cavern tunnel and waited for Dumbledore.
While waiting, he repeatedly practiced communicating with the Commandment shell, making it appear and vanish at will—determined not to let anything go wrong when the time came.
He only stepped forward when Dumbledore slid out of the pipe as well.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I think Professor McGonagall has gone ahead to scout," he reported.
"Indeed." Dumbledore gave a gentle smile and flicked his wand lightly. "This place could use a bit of tidying up."
As he spoke, the countless bones scattered over the ground began to tremble, then slowly floated up, following his steps as if tugged by invisible strings. Like a master puppeteer, he conjured two swirling rivers of bones.
Dumbledore walked on, light-footed.
"Wyzett, when you delved into Dobby's memory, was the 'fulcrum' you used fear?"
"And when you established that fear, the image you chose—was it the Voldemort you saw last year?"
"That's right!" Wyzett answered honestly. "At the time, since Dobby was terrified of Voldemort, using his image was the most efficient way."
"Efficient, and it left a mark that won't soon fade." Dumbledore pressed on, "Did you ever look through Dobby's memories?"
"I never got the chance... Didn't we find the Chamber entrance that night?" Wyzett replied. "Then we explored the real Chamber, and after that... I ended up in the hospital wing."
"Indeed! A great deal happened that night." Dumbledore nodded, then shifted the topic. "Wyzett, what do you think of the Malfoy family?"
Wyzett hesitated, unsure what Dumbledore was getting at. "The Malfoys? Which part? Draco... or the family's history?"
"Draco, perhaps?" Dumbledore stroked his beard. "You two seem to have crossed paths?"
Wyzett thought back. "Well, we're not in the same House, so we've only met a few times... At least, he's always been friendly to me."
"Friendly, hm..." Dumbledore murmured. "That's a promising start."
...
A glow appeared around the bend ahead—Professor McGonagall was returning, her wand lit with Lumos.
"We need to hurry. That girl is nearly at the door."
Dumbledore asked, "A girl? Could you tell who it was?"
"I couldn't see clearly... I kept my distance to avoid suspicion," Professor McGonagall replied, shaking her head. "But I'm certain... she's not a Gryffindor."
"Most likely a Slytherin, then," Dumbledore sighed. "Let's go."
When they reached the Chamber doors, they found them already open, swirling with eerie, cold green light. A lone figure was just vanishing into the gloom.
Dumbledore murmured, "You two, stay back for now—let me handle the immediate danger."
He raised his wand and, with a gentle flick, sent the rivers of bones behind him forward. They surged into the green mist with a faint clatter.
Inside the green haze, hurried footsteps echoed, followed by a string of hissing:
"Speak to me, Slytherin! Greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"
Wyzett immediately recognized the Parseltongue.
"Headmaster Dumbledore! The Basilisk is coming! I heard the command to summon it!"
"Thank you for the warning... Let me see..." Dumbledore's expression grew grave as he swept his wand.
"So, the trigger is at the mouth of the cave... Another mechanism that only Parseltongue can activate. Fascinating..."
A thunderous rumble echoed from deep within the Chamber, and the low, familiar whisper Wyzett knew all too well returned:
"Kill..."
It was followed by a torrent of rapid, snapping clicks—like a hailstorm—filling the Chamber.
A wave of immense magical pressure radiated from Dumbledore, making Wyzett's hair stand on end.
But the pressure lasted only two breaths. Dumbledore's stern expression faded, replaced once more by his usual, twinkling smile.
"It's quite a beast, but easier to handle than I'd imagined... I daresay Hagrid would be delighted."
"Though it's far too dangerous—even for Hagrid, looking after it would be a challenge."
He flicked his wand again, and the swirling green light vanished, replaced by a bright, gentle glow that illuminated the entire Chamber.
The first thing Wyzett saw were two towering bone-armored giants, each nearly as large as the statue of Salazar Slytherin himself.
Together, the bone giants had pinned down the Basilisk's massive body—especially its head, with its deadly eyes completely covered by bone.
The Basilisk was monstrous, easily over fifteen meters long, its emerald scales shimmering with lethal menace.
In front of the bone giants stood a delicate bone cage, imprisoning a girl in school robes.
She gripped a notebook tightly, her body radiating a violent, almost visible aura—like someone overdosed on Confusing Concoction, her reason all but lost, her expression twisted with madness.
"Pansy... Miss Pansy Parkinson..." Professor McGonagall frowned slightly. "It's actually her?"
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