Chapter 305: The Chamber of Secrets
Inside the pitch-black pipe.
A black cat melted seamlessly into the darkness.
As it slid downwards, its bright green eyes carefully scanned the maze of branching pipes that forked in every direction.
The tube beneath it twisted and turned relentlessly, steeply descending, coiling ever deeper.
Sean knew he had already dropped far below the castle—deeper even than the dungeons used for lessons.
Until—with a dull **thump**—the cat lost control and tumbled across the floor in several ungainly rolls.
Halfway through the tumble it became a bespectacled young wizard again.
"…Don't knock my glasses off."
Sean said suddenly.
Snowy, who had been clinging to his shoulder and pawing at the spectacles, immediately froze.
They followed the tunnel around bend after bend.
Sean's expression remained calm throughout. Only occasionally did he glance at the plan map—first at Ginny in Gryffindor Tower, then at Harry, Ron and Hermione pacing anxiously on the second floor.
At last he rounded one final corner and found himself facing a solid wall. Two enormous serpents were carved upon it, entwined, their eyes set with large, glittering emeralds.
"Hiss… hiss…" (Open.)
Sean had always felt that magic was vast beyond comprehension. Parseltongue—an ability not especially remarkable in itself—had kept the Chamber of Secrets hidden for a thousand years.
It was much like the way phoenixes were drawn to Dumbledore blood. No one could say what other secrets this land of magic still concealed…
With a low grinding sound, the serpents parted. The stone wall split down the middle and slid slowly aside, vanishing into the walls.
Sean raised his wand in his left hand—its tip glowing steadily—and carried the Sword of Gryffindor in his right. He stepped inside.
For a moment his own silhouette seemed to overlap with the memory of a certain close-combat mage from another life.
Beyond the stone wall lay a long, dimly lit chamber.
Tall stone pillars carved with twisting, coiling serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in shadow high above. Long, sinister black shadows stretched across the green-tinged mist that filled the entire space.
Sean felt a faint tension. He scanned every corner. The little alchemical toads were waiting just ahead—they had been quietly monitoring the Basilisk for some time, waiting for him to arrive.
Following the route marked on his plan map, he walked until he stood level with the final pair of pillars.
Then he saw it.
A statue as tall as the chamber itself loomed against the far wall—Slytherin himself.
An ancient, monkey-like face. A thin, straggling beard.
And coiled at the statue's feet lay the enormous Basilisk.
Its body gleamed with the vivid, venomous green of a deadly serpent, its girth as thick as an oak trunk.
It had been asleep.
Now,
it was awake.
One of the little alchemical toads leapt onto Sean's arm. His wand flared with fierce light, making the silver blade of the Sword of Gryffindor gleam razor-sharp.
…
Meanwhile, on the first-floor corridor.
"I heard it! 'Kill… kill the one who sees…'"
Harry's face drained of colour. He pressed his ear to the floor and caught the faint, unmistakable hiss of Parseltongue.
The night was utterly still. Only that tiny sound—and the pounding of his own heart—reached him.
"Think—Hogwarts has something that's a snake… and very dangerous…" Hermione whispered urgently, not daring to move in case she disturbed Harry's concentration.
"We have to tell Professor Dumbledore—"
She spoke the words almost automatically.
"Hermione, *every* snake is dangerous…" Ron's voice shook. "And if Sean didn't say anything…"
The corridor was dark. About twenty spiders were scurrying frantically along the walls, desperately trying to squeeze through a narrow crack in one of the windows.
A long silver thread hung down like a rope—they had evidently climbed up it in haste, intent on escaping outside.
"Have you ever seen spiders behave like this?" Hermione asked quietly while they waited for Harry.
Ron had retreated several paces, clearly fighting the urge to bolt.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked again.
"I—don't—like—spiders."
Ron's voice was tight with tension.
"I never knew that," Hermione said, genuinely surprised. "You've handled spiders so many times in Potions…"
"Dead ones I don't mind," Ron muttered, carefully keeping his eyes away from the window. "It's the way they move…"
Hermione actually laughed.
"What's so funny?" Ron snapped, irritated.
"You should know—when I was three, Fred turned my—my toy bear into a great ugly spider because I broke his toy broomstick. If you'd had *that* happen to you—if you were cuddling your bear one minute and the next it sprouted loads of legs and…"
He shuddered and couldn't go on.
Hermione's expression suddenly became deadly serious.
"To the library!" she cried. "I think I've read about this snake!"
She dragged Harry up from the floor and the three of them hurried away.
In the library—
It had closed long ago and should have been deserted. Yet a book suddenly slid from a shelf, as though an invisible hand had taken it down.
"Have you found it, Hermione?" Harry whispered.
Hermione stood frozen, speechless.
"Hermione?" Ron called urgently.
Still no response.
It took both of them to pry her fingers open and pull the old library volume free.
Harry opened it at once. Ron leaned in beside him. Together they read:
[In our country there roam many terrible beasts and monsters, but the strangest and most deadly of all is the Basilisk, also called the King of Serpents.
This snake can grow to enormous size and live for many centuries. It is born from a cockerel's egg, hatched beneath a toad.
The Basilisk kills in a most terrible manner. Apart from its deadly fangs, its gaze alone brings instant death to anyone who meets its eyes.
Spiders flee at the mere sight of a Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy…]
"So—Hogwarts has a Basilisk? That's the danger Dobby warned about… the voice I keep hearing is *it*…"
Harry was horrified by his own conclusion. Ron looked equally pale; he was clamping his mouth shut to stop himself screaming.
"Where did it come from? What did Sean mean by 'open'? How are we supposed to help?"
Harry's questions tumbled out in a frantic rush, his mind blank with shock.
But no one had answers.
"Harry, listen—if Sean has discovered the Basilisk, he won't just leave it alone. He always insists on facing danger by himself," Hermione said, her voice trembling, almost tearful.
"We have to tell the Headmaster—"
…
The Basilisk.
Also called the King of Serpents.
Petrifying gaze. Deadly venomous fangs. Colossal body. Every aspect of it screamed danger.
Yet Sean simply stood there, gazing calmly back at it. His wand had gone dark—but the six little alchemical toads hidden around the Chamber suddenly blazed with light.
The Basilisk seemed enraged. Its massive body slid heavily across the dusty floor, then reared upward.
It never finished rising.
The ground beneath it abruptly changed shape.
[You have practised Material Transfiguration once to the standard of an Adept in the Master domain. Master-level proficiency +10]
The creature hissed in fury and lunged forward—only to falter again.
Two enormous dogs had clamped their jaws around its body.
Two dogs. Six heads. All wearing spectacles. Utterly bizarre.
The Basilisk thrashed violently. The entire Chamber shook.
Sean's eyes fixed on the ceiling. Cracks spread rapidly across the stone.
Huge chunks of rock plummeted, striking the Basilisk's head. It writhed madly but was soon dazed and reeling.
Sean gave it no respite.
The instant the rocks landed he was already at its side, sword in hand.
The Sword of Gryffindor shone pristine and deadly silver.
But the Basilisk finally recovered its senses. Far larger than any three-headed dog, it flung Snowy and Tila aside without difficulty.
Sean took one measured step back. An Adept-level transfiguration completed almost instantly.
The Basilisk's counter-attack was interrupted again—the floor beneath it sank another deep section.
Sean was already tiring. He swept his wand; stone crawled up the serpent's body like living chains, locking part of its length in place.
Another downward slash of the wand.
The two three-headed dogs leapt again. Sharp stone spikes dropped from above, striking the Basilisk's head.
"Time for Dark magic…"
Sean's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Impedimenta!"
The Basilisk's struggles slowed dramatically. Its bloodied body—already battered by stone and spikes—stiffened further.
Only its head managed to twist aside at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the sharpest cones.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Both spells cast instantaneously, layered atop the transfiguration. The Basilisk finally froze completely.
It could do nothing as the three-headed dogs tore into it.
Sean was exhausted. Three Master-domain transfigurations had drained him. His sword hand trembled faintly.
"Still… a bit forced…"
He stepped right in front of the Basilisk. Through the Refraction Spectacles its strange gaze was clearly visible.
Even with protection, meeting its eyes for a split second made him momentarily stunned.
The Sword of Gryffindor sliced cleanly across its body—yet did not strike to kill.
Sean sheathed the blade, downed several potions in quick gulps, and suddenly heard the panel chime.
[You have gained the favour of the magical creature Basilisk to the standard of a Master. Affinity +300]
Sean: "…"
He had expected only to confirm certain ritual details by observing the creature. He had not anticipated this unexpected bonus.
The Sword of Gryffindor seemed to carry some special power. After the tail was cut, the entire Basilisk grew markedly weaker.
Sean fired several Stunning Spells in quick succession, then had Snowy—transformed into a cockerel—perch atop its head. Only then did he allow himself to relax slightly.
Killing the Basilisk would have been simple.
Taming it…
was not especially difficult either.
While Voldemort's influence was still weakened by the Soul Relic, Sean had just enough time to perfect the Basilisk Biscuit.
The only thing that puzzled him was how rapidly the affinity had risen after the defeat.
He had never seen affinity climb so quickly.
For a moment he wondered whether he had unconsciously spoken Parseltongue.
Then a possibility occurred to him. He drew a book from his bag:
[The Basilisk is an artificially created creature. The first recorded Basilisk was bred by "Herpo the Foul"—a Greek Dark wizard who spoke Parseltongue.
After repeated experiments he discovered that a cockerel's egg, incubated by a toad, would hatch into a serpent of extraordinary and deadly power.]
A Dark wizard…
Which meant the Basilisk was very likely a product of Dark magic.
He opened his own panel again:
[Wizard Sean Green. Dark Arts Talent: Gold (Dark Arts Disciple title already bestowed). Note: Ordinary wizards are rated Green.]
[Evaluation: You are a genius in the Dark Arts rarely seen in history. The Dark Arts will embrace you of their own accord. You are a born king of Dark magic.]
[Impediment Jinx: Master-level (1000/?)]
[Full Body-Bind Curse: Expert-level (1000/9000)]
[Reductor Curse: Expert-level (2000/9000)]
…
For the first time, Sean thought that occasionally embracing Dark magic might actually be…
He shook his head sharply.
No. Better not.
In the Chamber of Secrets.
The Basilisk lay motionless. Only the Sword of Gryffindor still gleamed.
A single fang dropped free.
Sean picked up the Basilisk fang. His gaze was deep and unreadable, like the sea at night.
(End of Chapter)
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