As Professor Flitwick rushed into the Great Hall, his face a mask of terror, Harry understood that the situation had escalated from bad to worse. Despite the staff's efforts to contain the panic, hushed murmurs about a student being abducted and the closure of Hogwarts carried through the air, audible to those close to the professors' table.
The definitive moment came when Dumbledore announced that classes were canceled and instructed everyone to return to their dormitories, awaiting further instructions. However, Harry felt compelled to step forward and reveal that he and his friends had at least a theory regarding the location of the Chamber of Secrets. He waited for the other students, guided by prefects, to exit the Great Hall before approaching the professors' table.
"Is there something you need, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, all eyes on Harry as the entire Hogwarts staff present turned their attention to him.
"Not exactly a need, but I believe I may have information that could help mitigate the current crisis." Although it sounded a bit arrogant, no one, not even Snape, dared to challenge him at that moment.
"And what might that be, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired, his twinkling eyes sparkling with curiosity. Harry shot him a glare at his familiar address but chose to focus on his answer instead.
"As you may have heard, my friends and I have been investigating the Chamber's mysteries." Several professors, including Dumbledore, nodded in acknowledgment. "While we lack concrete proof, we think we've pinpointed the likely location of the Chamber's entrance." Harry paused for effect. "Unfortunately, we also suspect that there are protections in place to prevent 'unworthy' individuals from entering."
"Please, share your insight with us, Mr. Potter," Professor Sprout urged, edging closer, eager to learn more.
"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is likely hidden in the girls' bathroom on the second floor, the one haunted by Moaning Myrtle, who we believe might have been the student killed by the basilisk fifty years ago when the Chamber was last opened." Dumbledore chuckled softly.
"What else would we expect from the most cunning wizard, Salazar Slytherin, than to hide his Chamber in a place no one would think to look?" He shook his head. "However, I'm afraid you're correct; there must be safeguards in place to ensure that only someone of his blood can enter. Absent a way to procure that blood, our only option is to seal the entrance." His tone shifted to a grave one. Madam Pomfrey, who had chosen to dine in the Great Hall today, scoffed.
"I find that hard to believe. Despite his dubious character, Salazar was a potions genius and likely understood that blood-based locks in a bathroom were... less than ideal. He probably employed a different method for determining who can enter his Chamber—specifically, anyone of his bloodline who can speak Parseltongue." The medi-witch asserted.
"That doesn't aid us, given that the last known Parselmouth was the Dark Lord himself," Snape retorted bitterly. Harry steeled himself, preparing to disclose his secret.
"No, it actually does help, as I know of another Parselmouth," the young Potter stated. "But I need you to swear on your magic not to share the following information without my express permission." He paused momentarily before adding, "And I will swear an Unbreakable Vow that I am not the 'Heir of Slytherin' attacking Hogwarts." There were subtle murmurings of calls for his arrest over his ability, but Dumbledore swiftly quelled them. After the vows were exchanged and a general plan formulated for entering the Chamber, Dumbledore instructed the house heads to inform students to remain in their dormitories while the remaining Hogwarts staff, alongside Harry, made their way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, their group had gathered at the entrance of the girls' bathroom, with Professor McGonagall still absent, having yet to return from Gryffindor Tower. Harry noted the presence of Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Snape—all renowned for their dueling prowess. Surprisingly, Lockhart was also present; Harry expected him to flee at the first hint of real danger.
What caught Harry off guard was the presence of Bathsheba Babbling, the Study of Ancient Runes professor. She was a slender woman in middle age, possibly striking in her youth, sporting fashionable glasses and robes better suited for an office than an adventure. Yet her expertise in runes suggested a formidable defense, albeit not against a basilisk's deadly gaze.
At last, Professor McGonagall arrived, closely followed by Ron Weasley. Harry had anticipated Ron's arrival—after all, it was his sister the 'Heir' had kidnapped—but he still hoped their head of house would stop him from following them into the Chamber.
"Minerva, are you sure it's wise to bring young Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore inquired, his gaze fixed on the Transfiguration professor.
"I'm not thrilled about it; I'd prefer he stayed in the dormitory. But he insisted on coming to rescue Ms. Weasley," McGonagall replied. "Regardless, we're all here now. Shouldn't we proceed?" Professor Babbling shook her head.
"While we all want to ensure the school's safety, let's not forget we are up against a thousand-year-old basilisk, with a hide resistant to even the strongest magics. And we can't overlook its fatal gaze." Dumbledore nodded solemnly.
"Indeed, entering without preparation would be utter folly..." Harry raised his hand, catching Sneap's glare, which indicated disapproval of any interruption during his potions classes.
"If I may? While a basilisk's hide is quite resilient to magic, it's not invulnerable to physical attacks," Harry offered, drawing raised eyebrows.
"And you suggest someone approach the basilisk and stab it with a sword?" Snape sneered. "You are even more arrogant than your father, if you believe that will work." Dumbledore raised a hand.
"Severus," he admonished. Then he turned to Harry. "So, what is your proposal, Harry?"
"While my interests lie elsewhere due to my career path, my cousin has a keen interest in firearms. I understand that a .50 caliber round from a Barrett M82 can penetrate up to thirty millimeters of steel... I doubt the basilisk's hide is more durable than that." Harry stated.
"Fascinating..." Dumbledore mused. "But to slay the beast with a rifle, you'd need to aim. While aiming, you'd be vulnerable to its gaze."
"True, but considering the basilisk resides in a hidden chamber, it likely has adapted to darkness. A powerful flash of light, like Lumos Solaris or perhaps Maxima Lumos, should be sufficient to force it to close its eyes for a brief moment." Dumbledore considered this for a moment before nodding.
"That could work... I'll award you fifteen points for Gryffindor for your idea." Harry nodded back before adding,
"Since the rifle is rather heavy and has considerable recoil, it would be prudent to charm it—though not the bullet, of course—to be featherweight and add a cushioning charm to its stock." Dumbledore nodded, having already contemplated a similar approach himself.
"Now, Harry, if you're able, please share the memory of the rifle with me..." the headmaster said as he drew his wand and gently pressed it against Harry's temple. "Just concentrate on the thought." Harry complied, though he nearly lost his focus when he felt a cool sensation extracting itself from his mind. Lifting his gaze to Dumbledore's wand, he noticed a silvery strand dangling from its tip.
"This is a copy of your thoughts regarding the rifle," Dumbledore explained, pressing the wand to his own temple, absorbing the memory with ease. "I see..." He murmured after a few moments, then began a series of complex wand movements. Seconds later, a rifle appeared. Its color and proportions might have been slightly off, but the essential firing mechanism was intact. Once he confirmed there were no errors, he added the featherweight and cushioning charms before whispering "Geminio!" duplicating the rifle four times. "These should only last a few hours, but that should suffice for our mission." After checking the copies' integrity—something Dumbledore had learned from war experience—the duplicates were distributed to everyone except Lockhart and Ron.
"Now that we're prepared, let's confront the beast," Professor Babbling urged. The others nodded in agreement, and led by Dumbledore, they entered Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Once inside, the ancient wizard cast a series of intricate scanning charms, ultimately revealing an abnormal concentration of magic flowing from one of the sinks forming the column at the center of the room.
"The entrance must be here," Dumbledore stated. With a determined nod, Harry approached the sink, casting a Muffliato charm to prevent anyone unbound by a confidentiality oath from overhearing his words in Parseltongue, and began inspecting the sink. After a few minutes, he discovered a small snake engraved on the tap's surface. Imagining it as a real serpent, he commanded it to unlock the path to the Chamber.
"Open," he hissed. To his astonishment, the sinks began descending into the floor, uncovering a large hole that led into a massive pipe. Dropping his Muffliato charm, he turned back to the professors. "I believe I should go first, in case there are more locks like this on the way." Though there were hesitant nods among the staff, no one wanted a student risking himself before them. Yet, Harry raised a valid point.
"Very well," Dumbledore agreed, taking a deep breath as Harry prepared to slide down into the pipe.
~/ *** \~
'So they've arrived... A bit earlier than I would've preferred, but what can I do?' Tom marveled with a mix of satisfaction and annoyance as he sensed someone entering his Chamber of Secrets. 'Who would have thought they managed to find a Parselmouth... Who could it be?' He tapped into the meager energy he pulled from the unwitting girl who once wrote in his diary to get a read on the wards safeguarding the Chamber. 'Potter? How dare he lay claim to the noble gift of my ancestors!' Initially, he considered inviting the boy to join his cause, but now the plan had changed; Potter would die for his affront to the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin.
Concentrating more power drawn from that naive girl into the wards, he attempted to seal the entrance. He wanted to take Potter down one-on-one, without the meddling of that irritating old man. Unfortunately for him, the secret gate in the pipe, meant to keep undesirables out, took time to seal, allowing two more to slip in.
'Ah well...' Tom rationalized. 'One of them is a useless fool who teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, while the other is a blood traitor. They won't pose a threat to me.' Now, all he had to do was wait for Potter to make his way into the inner Chamber, where he would take pleasure in ending his life. The basilisk would most likely do the job; he still had about two hours before he could manifest completely—an unfortunate drawback of having started the ritual prematurely.
~/ *** \~
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sighed as he sensed a shift within the pipe where Ron Weasley had just entered... It seemed the 'Heir' had some dominion over this section of the castle while he himself did not; the Chamber's wards were not a part of Hogwarts' defenses.
"It appears our opponent has ensnared them in his Chamber. Unfortunately, we may not be able to breach his barriers in time to save them," he grimly informed. The expressions of all the professors, Snape included, darkened. "Nevertheless, we must do all that we can to dismantle these wards and assist our students." With that declaration, Dumbledore beckoned Professor Babbling to follow him before they both descended into the pipe.
~/ *** \~
On the opposite end of the pipe, the circumstances worsened. Just as Lockhart was getting to his feet, Ron Weasley barreled into him, sending them both tumbling onto the filthy ground with enough force to break Lockhart's wand and dislodge Ron's, still held together by generous amounts of spellotape. Simultaneously, the magic surrounding them activated, sealing the sole escape route they had.
"It seems this adventure ends here," Lockhart declared, shaking off Ron as he stubbornly attempted to rise. "I really should thank the 'Heir' for sealing the entrance; no one will know what transpired here!" he proclaimed, puffing his chest at the thought. "I'll take a little piece of skin back to the school, telling them I arrived too late to save the girl... and how you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body... Say goodbye to your memories!" The once-unraveled DADA professor raised Ron's wand, aiming it at both boys. "Obliviate!"
If circumstances had been different, Lockhart's plan might have succeeded, but he had forgotten the condition of Ron's wand. Instead of erasing the boys' memories, the wand exploded in Lockhart's grip, likely disfiguring him permanently. Magic surged off in multiple directions; one bolt struck Lockhart in the shoulder, evaporating a chunk of flesh that sent him collapsing in agony.
Instinctively, Harry dove left to evade danger. Unfortunately, this choice resulted in the collapse of the ceiling, blocking his way back to safety. With an internal sigh, he adjusted the rifle on his back, conjured a small light at the tip of his wand, and steeled himself to traverse toward the heart of the Chamber of Secrets. Deep down, his instincts screamed for him to escape this foul place, yet he pressed on...
Soon he reached the end of the dim and grimy corridor, which culminated in a wall constructed of large granite blocks. At the center of the wall stood a circular door crafted from an unrecognizable metal, conspicuously lacking any visible knobs or locks. Instead, two iron snakes rested opposite the hinges. Assuming the possibility of other exits beyond this door, Harry deduced he had to force it open.
"Open," he commanded the snakes in Parseltongue. To his surprise, they began slithering around the door's perimeter, and the sound of bolts shifting echoed through the air. Once the snakes returned to their original positions, the massive door slowly creaked open, revealing a corridor illuminated by eerie green torches. Bracing himself for the unknown, Harry stepped into the hallway.
This new corridor was shorter than the previous one, barely thirty meters long, leading into a vast Chamber four times the size of the Great Hall. Multiple archways lined the walls, and a massive visage of Salazar Slytherin loomed at the opposite end. Thick stone pillars, intricately carved with serpents, supported the ceiling, which remained obscured in shadows.
From a distance, Harry spotted Ginny Weasley's body lying still. He dashed to her side, checking her pulse—the girl was pale, her skin cold as ice, as though teetering on the edge of death. Suddenly, movement caught his eye near the nearest pillar. Harry turned to see a handsome but faintly transparent young man clad in Slytherin robes.
"So, you are the 'Heir'?" Harry asked, pointing his wand at the unfamiliar figure with caution...