Yes—Arthur was absolutely certain this had been Draco's doing.
Those two lackeys of his—whose brains were clearly only used to store food—could never have come up with something as elaborate as beating someone while covering their head with a sack.
More importantly, Arthur himself had recently "casually" mentioned to Draco the dirty trick Ron had suggested to Harry. With that in mind, Draco going after Ron came as no surprise at all.
What did surprise Arthur was that Draco hadn't done it personally this time.
It seemed that after Snape's guidance, the boy had finally learned something.
Letting underlings handle this sort of thing was the correct choice. After all, as long as he wasn't personally involved, even if something went wrong, it wouldn't come back to him.
Of course, that was only true if your subordinates weren't complete idiots.
Unfortunately, Draco's two lackeys looked like idiots even at first glance.
And sure enough, Draco entered the Great Hall with the two of them trailing behind.
The moment one of the lackeys saw Ron's battered face, he pointed at him and laughed.
"Boss, look—what you told us to do is all taken care of!"
"Yeah," the other chimed in eagerly. "If Filch hadn't been about to show up, we could've hit him a few more times."
Draco slapped his forehead in silence.
He'd forgotten to tell these two morons to keep their mouths shut.
Still, since it was already out in the open, Draco wasn't the kind of person who dared to act but not admit it.
Before Ron could even question him, Draco spoke first.
"Weasley, how does it feel to be ambushed? This is the price for you telling Potter to smash my face."
"You—how did you know about that?!" Ron snapped, anger and shock mixed together.
Naturally, Draco wasn't about to sell Arthur out—but he still glanced at him instinctively.
That single glance didn't escape Ron's notice.
Ron stared at Arthur in disbelief.
Arthur could only shake his head helplessly. Draco's lackeys were pig teammates—but Draco himself wasn't much better.
"Arthur," Ron said stiffly, "you sold me out?"
"'Sold you out' is a bit much," Arthur replied calmly. "You never said it was a secret. And Draco is my friend."
Strictly speaking, Arthur's relationship with Draco was actually closer than his relationship with Ron.
Arthur and Ron were, at best, ordinary friends. They'd never even hung out together properly. Even that book Ron had received—Eipede—had only been given for Harry's sake, and the twins'.
Draco, on the other hand, came looking for Arthur every few days during the holidays. Over time, it was only natural that their friendship deepened.
So in Arthur's mind, Draco's priority was obviously higher than Ron's.
Ron was left speechless.
Arthur was right—he'd never asked him to keep it confidential.
"Hmph! Being friends with Slytherins—this is a betrayal of Gryffindor!" Ron snapped, throwing out the accusation before storming off in a fury.
"Ron! Ron!"
Harry called after him, but Ron didn't even turn his head as he left the Great Hall.
"I'm sorry, Arthur," Harry said apologetically. "Ron doesn't think before he speaks. Please don't take it to heart."
Harry didn't fully understand why Arthur and Draco were friends either, but he respected Arthur's choice.
And to be fair, Draco didn't seem that bad—somehow, Harry and Draco just naturally clashed every time they met.
Harry had only taken Ron's advice because Draco had been pestering him nonstop.
He hadn't expected Ron to end up being beaten because of it.
Harry cared deeply about Ron. After all, Ron had been his very first friend at Hogwarts.
Arthur could see what Harry was thinking.
"It's fine," he said lightly. "If you want to go after him, go. I'm not bothered by this."
Harry nodded and quickly chased after Ron.
Once Harry left, Draco finally stepped forward.
"Sorry," he said awkwardly. "Looks like I caused you trouble."
Arthur waved it off. "It's nothing."
To Arthur, this really was nothing. His relationship with Ron had never been close enough for him to worry about Ron's feelings to this extent.
In Arthur's eyes, Ron's words were simply childish.
No matter how bad the relationship between two Houses might be, they were still students of the same school—not mortal enemies. Calling this "betrayal" was laughable.
When Arthur had gone out night-roaming with Ranni and Hermione before, he'd even seen students from different Houses dating each other.
Only someone as immature as Ron would judge people purely based on personal likes and dislikes. In Ron's worldview, Slytherins were probably all villains.
Arthur didn't dwell on the incident. To him, it was just a minor ripple in everyday life.
...
That night, Arthur returned to the Chamber of Secrets.
He'd thought long and hard about it. If Slytherin had truly left behind a legacy, then it almost certainly had something to do with this place.
The chamber looked exactly as it had the first time Arthur entered it—serpentine statues lining the path, with Slytherin's massive stone face at the far end.
It was hard to imagine that Slytherin had chosen such a sunless place as a secret classroom.
Darkness alone would've been manageable—candles could solve that.
But the real problem was that the chamber was surrounded on three sides by water. It was damp and freezing. Anyone staying here for long would probably develop rheumatism.
Arthur scanned the chamber before his gaze settled on Slytherin's stone face.
He'd always been curious—what exactly had Slytherin been thinking when he designed his own mouth as the Basilisk's entrance?
Didn't it feel strange to have a Basilisk constantly slithering in and out of your mouth?
More importantly, the outer chamber alone was already spacious enough for the Basilisk to live in.
Why go through the trouble of hiding its nest behind the statue?
Unless… there was more back there.
Arthur extended his mental power—and sure enough, something behind the statue was blocking his perception.
After a moment's thought, Arthur directly used Sectumsempra to slice Slytherin's stone face clean off.
There was no way he was crawling through Slytherin's mouth.
Who knew what kind of grime the Basilisk might have rubbed all over that entrance over the years?
Using a Levitation Charm, Arthur moved the face aside, revealing the space behind the statue.
It looked just like the hidden area beneath the girls' bathroom entrance—except there were even more bones scattered across the floor.
No guessing required. This had clearly been the Basilisk's doing.
This was probably its original feeding ground. Once the bones piled too high, it must have moved closer to the chamber entrance.
Aside from the dense layer of remains, there were two bookshelves.
Time and dampness had taken their toll—worms had infested the shelves, and the books were completely rotten.
This was almost certainly Slytherin's true secret classroom.
Arthur even spotted something resembling a blackboard on one of the walls.
At the very center of the room stood a raised platform, and atop it was a life-sized statue of Slytherin himself.
Arthur was speechless.
Just how narcissistic did you have to be to make this many statues of yourself?
Stepping closer, Arthur noticed an octagonal indentation in the statue's chest—one that looked extremely familiar.
Wasn't this the exact shape of Slytherin's locket?
Just as Arthur had suspected, Slytherin's true legacy had never been the Basilisk.
He took out the locket and placed it into the indentation.
The moment it fit into place, the emerald set in the locket flared with green light.
Glowing patterns spread across the statue's body, converging toward its eyes—until the entire statue looked almost alive.
No—more accurately, it became alive.
The statue stepped down from the platform and walked toward Arthur.
"You are the one who has activated my legacy?" it asked.
Arthur didn't answer. Instead, he muttered, "Do you four founders seriously have zero creativity? One by one, it's always animated statues. Don't tell me Hufflepuff's legacy is another statue too."
The statue didn't respond—only repeated its question.
"You are the one who has activated my legacy?"
"Wow," Arthur said flatly. "This thing's a low-grade AI—emphasis on the low."
Arthur's words seemed to trigger something.
"Due to my hasty departure," the statue finally replied, "I did not leave much intelligence behind. I can only provide simple responses."
That explained it.
No wonder it felt like a malfunctioning chatbot.
Apparently, Slytherin had left Hogwarts in anger over irreconcilable differences with the other founders—so much so that he hadn't even had time to properly refine this animated statue.
Even so, Arthur still tried his luck.
"Did you really leave Hogwarts because of ideological differences?" he asked.
The statue answered flatly, "My memory does not contain information on that subject."
So much for that.
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