"Harry Potter- Ravenclaw"Chapter 194: The Commandment: ?
Veins bulged across Pansy's face, twisting her features into a mask of rage. She hammered desperately at the bone cage, her hands already streaked with blood.
"So what if it's me?" she spat, her voice venomous. "You're all sinners—every last one of you at Hogwarts!"
"Sinners who dragged this school into the abyss! I'll purify Hogwarts, cleanse it of Mudblood filth!"
Wyzett noticed that while Pansy was facing Dumbledore, her burning gaze was locked on him, overflowing with hate.
And from the Basilisk came a chilling, venomous whisper: "Want to kill… the taste of food… so hungry…"
Still baring her teeth in a grotesque snarl, Pansy kept struggling, but now a hiss slipped from between her clenched jaws: "Wait for my command. Kill the smallest one! He'll taste the best!"
"Tasty… tasty… I want to eat…" The Basilisk fell silent at her words, clearly awaiting her order.
It was obvious: when Dumbledore had seized control of the Basilisk earlier, Pansy had managed to issue her own command—telling it to bide its strength.
"I promised I'd be back soon," Wyzett said quickly. "Headmaster Dumbledore, the Basilisk still has fight left in it."
Pansy didn't hesitate a second. She let out a piercing, hissing shout: "Kill him!"
But Dumbledore was faster. He snapped his wand up, aiming at the two armored bone giants.
With a thunderous staccato—like a downpour of bones—the giants seized the Basilisk again, pinning it down just as it reared to strike.
The Basilisk howled in anguish. "Hungry… I want to eat… I want to live…"
"Miss Parkinson, it seems you haven't learned your lesson—making the same mistake your father did," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling behind his smile. "I haven't lost my magic."
"Controlling a Basilisk is still well within my abilities." He glanced at Wyzett. "Since you promised to be quick, let's not keep anyone waiting."
…
"Right!" Wyzett didn't hesitate. He raised his wand and cast Ancient Magic: Enhanced Nox—"Nox!"
A vast black bubble shimmered into existence, swallowing the Basilisk and both bone giants whole.
He squeezed his eyes shut. With the help of Ancient Magic: Self-Molding (Devil's Snare Form), the Devil's Snare within him guided his movements, letting him climb nimbly up the armored giants and onto the Basilisk's head.
In his mind, a serpent appeared, coiling into the shape of a question mark.
A flash of insight. Instinctively, Wyzett spoke the incantation: "Nauthiz!"
The Basilisk, mid-struggle, froze—its vibrant color draining away in an instant, turning to the cold, gray-white of stone.
This gray-white wasn't mere shadow; it was untouched by the darkness of Enhanced Nox. It boiled and surged like living mercury, rushing toward Wyzett as if to swallow him whole.
Memory surfaced—Salazar Slytherin's lessons: two keys—Ancient Magic, and communication.
His Obscurus core pulsed violently. Wyzett gripped his wand like a dagger and drove it into the Basilisk's skull.
Silver-blue light burst like fireworks. A flood of memories crashed into Wyzett's mind—the Basilisk's entire life, from hatching to centuries of slumber beneath Hogwarts…
The fragments swirled together, forming a lock. To complete the Commandment, Wyzett would have to find the key.
…
"Communication…" Wyzett murmured, then switched to Parseltongue, hissing softly: "I'm here to finish the contract—the Commandment of Petrification…"
Though its body was frozen, the Basilisk's mind responded, faint but resolute: "I want to live… to survive…"
Wyzett frowned, hissing again: "We've caught the Heir. You can live now."
At the word "Heir," the Basilisk's thoughts stuttered, then resumed their mantra: "I want to live… to survive…"
To live… but for what?
For survival alone?
For the Heir?
To fulfill the command to cleanse Hogwarts?
Tracing it back—
Salazar Slytherin had bred the Basilisk; only after its birth could it live for survival's sake.
The Heir was Slytherin's descendant.
The cleansing of Hogwarts was Slytherin's command.
Wyzett raised his wand, pressing the tip to his temple, drawing out a silvery strand of memory—his meeting with Salazar Slytherin in the mirror realm.
"See? I've met Headmaster Slytherin!" he declared, letting the memory drift down and merge into the Basilisk's head.
"To live…" The Basilisk's voice faltered, then whispered a name: "Salazar… Salazar Slytherin… my… master… my only master…"
…
The gray-white faded from the Basilisk's scales. Its body relaxed, no longer struggling, draped over the bone giants as if in utter repose.
"Salazar Slytherin… my… master… my only master…"
A wave of emotion washed over Wyzett. He'd always thought the Basilisk was all instinct—kill, hunger, survive.
But now, he realized: instinct alone couldn't sustain a creature for a thousand years.
He exhaled softly. "I'll take you to him… Just as you've seen, I know where Headmaster Slytherin is."
As the Basilisk calmed, Wyzett felt the Commandment shell in his mind shift.
The gray-white that had left the Basilisk now filled the Commandment shell, transforming it—making it whole.
The Wizard's Practical Combat Guide fluttered open, new content appearing:
Commandment: ?
Magical Properties—Suppression, Binding, Intensity… Guided by Ancient Magic, the Commandment manifests magic related to "?"…
Just as Wyzett had guessed, the price of the Commandment had already been paid by Voldemort. The book's pages showed no further cost.
…
Outside the black bubble, Pansy's mocking voice rang out: "I don't know why he went in there, but give it up! Not everyone can command it!"
Wyzett pressed his wand to his throat and cast the Sonorus Charm:
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed…"
"Looks like everything went smoothly…" Satisfaction colored Dumbledore's voice.
With a faint tremor, the two armored bone giants collapsed, scattering into piles of bones…
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