Halloween feast… a skeleton dance troupe? Kyle blinked, processing the strange realization. Had he somehow been thrown back a few months?
After all he'd just experienced, it wasn't particularly shocking. Meeting people from a thousand years in the past was far more unbelievable—what were a few months by comparison?
After bidding farewell to the two Ravenclaws, Kyle walked down a nearby corridor, which he knew was the location of the first attack. The students were all gathered in the Great Hall, leaving the hallways empty. Kyle slipped into an abandoned classroom and sat alone, gazing pensively at the diary in his hands.
So that's why the diary had mysteriously vanished before, he thought. He'd spent ages investigating its disappearance, only to end up with it right here in his possession. Gryffindor's words echoed in his mind: time was an unpredictable force, too volatile to meddle with casually. Kyle sighed. The Founders were right—time travel was both a nuisance and a temptation. Yet he was still curious: now that he had the diary, how would the first attack unfold?
As he sat in silence, he realized he hadn't heard any noise from the Great Hall in some time, which likely meant the skeleton dance troupe had already finished, and the students were settling into the meal. If this keeps up, he mused, the feast will end soon.
A nervous energy crept over him. What if… what if he himself was responsible for the first attack? After all, he was the one currently holding the diary, which meant that if anyone controlled the Basilisk at this moment, it was him.
No, he thought, uneasy, I can't be the heir of the Chamber of Secrets… can I?
Just as he considered whether he should return to the Chamber, the sound of Filch's voice echoed down the corridor.
"I've had it! Throwing water balloons everywhere and doodling turtles on portraits, as if I didn't already have enough to deal with!"
Here it comes…
Kyle quickly slipped out of the room and cast a Disillusionment Charm, hiding behind a staircase railing. From his vantage point, he watched as Filch came trudging down the corridor, muttering furiously as he mopped up water stains on the floor.
"Bloody Peeves… I'll go straight to Dumbledore, I will…"
Filch drew closer, grumbling and seething, as he moved to clean up the third floor. This was it—the first attack had happened right around this time. But if Kyle was now unwittingly positioned as the "heir," he had no idea how to proceed. Summoning the Basilisk would mean he'd need to go all the way down to the Chamber of Secrets, but with Filch already here, he didn't have time for that, especially if Filch decided to leave for another floor at any moment.
"Bang!"
Just as Filch drew within two meters of Kyle, the bathroom door next to them slammed open. A massive head emerged, followed by the long, scaled body of the Basilisk.
"No fireworks in the castle…" Filch began to scold, but upon hearing the noise, he instinctively looked up. "This time, I'll definitely put an end to your—"
"Close your eyes!" Kyle shouted urgently.
The Basilisk obeyed, shutting its eyes immediately. But it was already too late.
The moment the creature emerged, it had dragged along a flood of bathroom water that now covered the floor. Filch, glancing down, unwittingly saw the Basilisk's yellow eyes reflected in the puddle.
"Pat… Pat…" Thud.
The mop and a small bucket slipped from his grasp, spilling red paint across the floor. Filch, now bent forward, stood frozen in place, just as Kyle remembered seeing him after the attack.
Filch's petrification seemed to flip an invisible switch, setting everything into motion.
"...crybaby… acne-faced…"
Peeves's gleeful voice echoed down the hall.
Without missing a beat, Kyle ordered the Basilisk back to the Chamber of Secrets, then grabbed the paint-covered mop and scrawled a message on the wall:
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.
He tossed the mop aside and turned to run.
Just then, Peeves appeared, gleefully chasing Myrtle up to the third floor. In a flash, the two ghosts collided. Myrtle, covering her face and oblivious to Kyle, flew right past him, but Peeves stopped, eyes gleaming as he took in the scene before him.
Peeves looked from the petrified Filch to the ominous message on the wall and let out a mischievous laugh. "Oho! You did this, didn't you, Kyle? What wicked scheme are you up to?"
"Well... it's a grand plan," Kyle replied, forcing a grin. "But can you keep a secret, Peeves?"
"I'm not keeping any of Kyle's dirty little secrets…" Peeves grinned wider. "I'm off to tell Professor Snape everything so I can see you get a nice, long detention!"
"Five bags of water balloons," Kyle bargained, feeling his nerves steady. "Plus a crate of Dungbombs and a set of Fanged Frisbees…"
"Oho! Now you're talking!" Peeves cackled, delighted. "All right, all right… I didn't see a thing."
"So… do we have a deal?" Kyle asked, smiling.
"Deal!" Peeves's eyes sparkled as he hovered around Kyle. "But I'm still missing a weapon. I'll take this one for now."
In an instant, the diary vanished from Kyle's hand as Peeves snatched it gleefully and darted off before Kyle could protest.
To make matters worse, Kyle spotted Harry, Hermione, and Ron rushing after Myrtle, and Mrs. Norris creeping along the stairs, her sharp eyes scanning the corridor.
Kyle cursed under his breath. Being trapped in this strange time loop meant he absolutely couldn't afford to be caught by Mrs. Norris, like Harry had been that fateful night. With no other choice, he abandoned the idea of chasing Peeves and quickly ducked into the bathroom nearby.
Inside, Myrtle had already returned and was wailing miserably atop the sink. Kyle ignored her, moving to the closed Chamber of Secrets entrance. He carefully arranged the scattered "exploding textbooks" on the floor, placing each one exactly where he remembered finding them.
In a short while, his "past self" would be here to investigate, so Kyle needed to reset the scene to match how he'd originally found it.
As he worked, Kyle couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of absurdity. What is this…? After months of investigating, I find out the "culprit" was me all along!
For a wizard, this was the kind of twisted experience that almost defied belief—and here he was, living through it firsthand.
Outside, the faint voices of curious students began to drift through the corridor. Kyle finished arranging the "exploding textbooks" until he was certain everything looked right. Finally, he exited the bathroom, slipping a feather quill back into the crack of the door to complete the scene.