"A Basilik?" Professor McGonagall said incredulously. "I'd like to let you know, Mr Renshaw, Basilik's haven't been seen since-"
"Professor, please - read this," Blake said, thrusting a book he'd found in the library under her nose. McGonagall quickly scanned the page, her eyes widening comically.
"But, even still, Mr Renshaw, how can-"
"Myrtle Warren was the muggleborn student that died the last time the Chamber was open, wasn't she, Professor?"
McGonagall froze.
"How did you-"
"I spoke to her - she's a ghost, after all. I asked her about the circumstances of her death. Apparently, she heard hissing outside the toilet stall door, and when she went outside to tell the intruder off, the last thing she saw was - and I quote - "a great, big, yellow pair of eyes". I asked her if they were like a snake's - she said yes."
McGonagall was visibly shaken now. Blake continued.
"So, the textbook says that Basilik's can kill with just a glare, but then the question is why were Flich's cat and Colin Crevey spared, along with the other muggleborn students from when Myrtle died - and I know why. Professor, do you remember that night that the cat was petrified? It was wet, and there were puddles on the floor from Myrtle's bathroom - the cat saw the eyes indirectly! And Colin must've seen them through the camera! That's the only explanation, it's the only thing they all have in common!"
McGonagall stared at the boy before her for a second, unable to comprehend what she'd just heard and read.
"I - I will take you to see the Headmaster, Mr Renshaw. He will decide the outcome of your … theory."
"Thanks, Professor," Blake said, relieved. He was glad that he was one of McGonagall's favourites - it certainly had its perks in times like this.
The student and teacher silently made their way to the Headmaster's office, and Blake vaguely rehearsed what he'd already told McGonagall. He doubted that he would need to convince Dumbledore - hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew, and this was yet another test for Harry.
Speaking of Harry, Blake felt pity for the Boy-Who-Lived again. He seemed to have a bad case of bad timing, and being found at the site of the petrified cat, and then also having a 'motive' (although it was a shoddy, completely unrealistic motive) to petrify Colin Crevey, was very unlucky. I'd not be surprised if after the next petrification - if it happens - Harry is the one to find it, or is somehow related to it.
"We're here," McGonagall said. "I shall speak to the Headmaster for a moment - wait here, Mr Renshaw. Lemon drop!"
Blake heard hushed voices through the door, but nothing he could discern.
McGonagall shakily exited a few moments later, telling him he could go inside.
"Blake," she stopped him before he could enter. "Yes, Professor?"
"If you have found out what it is - if it is a Basilik… I, the Headmaster, and all of Hogwarts owe you a great debt, once again it seems."
Blake smirked, before smiling gently.
"We'll see, Professor." McGonagall nodded, before disappearing back down the stairs to her study.
Blake inhaled deeply. Don't make eye contact. Don't let him read your mind. He entered the room.
Dumbledore sat at his desk, that casual, grandfatherly smile adorning his face, looking as he'd known Blake would come to see him that very day.
"Hello, Blake."
"Hello, Professor Dumbledore."
"So, Professor McGonagall tells me you believe the cause behind the attacks is a Basilik?"
"Yes, sir."
"Certainly a plausible theory. I trust it."
Blake narrowed his eyes. "You already knew?"
"I had my suspicions, of course, but no solid evidence. Do you?"
"No, but the Basilisk theory is the most plausible one so far - surely taking measures to warn students should be the priority?"
"We have done so, Blake. Teachers patrol the corridors constantly, students are advised to stay vigilant-"
"That's not enough, Professor!" Blake's voice raised slightly, interrupting the Headmaster.
"Is this another test for Harry? You hope that he's investigating this, don't you? You're testing him, so he can be ready to defeat Voldemort!"
"Blake, there's things that you don't understand, and that you will in time, but-"
"Professor, respectfully, if you need a test for Harry, do it in your own time! Where it's safe, or at least where other students aren't at risk!"
"And so what do you propose to do, Blake?" Dumbledore asked suddenly, interest and intensity peaking in his eyes.
"Warn all students about the danger again - tell them not to go out unless strictly necessary, and place mirrors around every corner so that students aren't surprised, or at least they can be petrified rather than killed outright. Tell them if they hear slithering - or anything that something that doesn't seem right - report it to a teacher. Amass as much information as possible on the given information, and pinpoint exactly how the Basilisk operates and moves around, and if there's a person behind this - wait!"
Blake suddenly paused.
"There was a person that framed Hagrid last time, right? You were at Hogwarts, weren't you, Professor? Who was it? Whoever that person is - he could be Voldemort!"
Blake looked at Dumbledore eagerly, but the man before him just looked at him sadly. Blake's heart sank.
"You know his identity, don't you? His real name. Why haven't you made it public?"
"There's a reason, Blake - and truthfully, I can promise you that once you learn it, you will understand. You just have to trust me."
Blake's impatience grew. So, you let me find out it's a Basilisk and that Voldemort has or had something to do with it, all so that I'd be put into a position where I've got no other option but to trust you. And you're probably testing Harry too, considering you know what he's like.
"So, you won't do anything, Professor?" Blake said quietly, meeting Dumbledore's eyes. I'm not letting him see what I'm thinking. Not anymore.
"I have done everything I can, Blake. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts," he said, his voice taking on a bit of steel. "The students and staff here are my top priority, and-"
"My little brother is in danger of his life, Professor." Blake spoke softer than ever now, but something in his voice made Dumbledore warier than he'd been in a long time.
"Perhaps you do have valid reasons, but the fact remains that Connor is unsafe. So is Hermione, and Harry, and anyone else that's not a racist pureblood. If you, as the Headmaster, won't do anything, then I will."
"And what do you plan to do then, Blake?" Dumbledore challenged.
"I'll advertise to everyone what the monster of the Chamber of Secrets really is - even if there's no evidence, a rumour like that will be believed, and whoever this Heir of Slytherin is, Voldemort or not, will have a much harder time petrifying or killing anyone. Best case scenario, it flushes the Heir out, he or she does something stupid, and we catch them. Worst case scenario, they retreat completely, no casualties caused."
"And what of the Chamber and Heir in the worst cases scenario? How do you plan on finding them if the Heir retreats completely?"
"I told you, Professor. You can play your games if you really need to, but I can't - I won't stand around and let my brother be a part of it."
Dumbledore sighed.
"How noble, Blake. Perhaps in another life, you would've been sorted in Gryffindor."
What's he trying to say?
"But, I'm afraid we've come to a disagreement."
Dumbledore stood from his chair, and for once, the old man's eyes weren't twinkling like they always did. No, they were filled with a cold, desolate ice, and in that moment, Blake understood how so many had died under Dumbledore's leadership.
"I can't let you do that."
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