After Snape took the two eight-eyed giant spiders back to his office, he remained secluded, working on something unknown. Midnight often brought eerie wails from his chambers, filling the castle's corridors with spine-chilling echoes. The most shocking part, however, was that Snape had completely suspended his potions classes.
When Harry, Ron, and Neville caught wind of this, they were momentarily stunned before erupting into cheers that reverberated throughout Hogwarts Castle. With the basilisk still guarding the entrance to the cave, and Snape locked away with the spiders, Hogwarts found itself returning to an unusual tranquility.
The professors, relieved of immediate dangers, shifted their focus back to teaching. Yet, the momentary joy of Snape's absence was short-lived as students were once again buried under a mountain of assignments.
At the center table in the library, Harry bit the tip of his quill in frustration, staring at the daunting stack of books beside him. His parchment, though slightly stretched with an enlarged font, barely measured three inches—far from Professor McGonagall's required eight-inch essay.
"David, have you finished Professor McGonagall's thesis?" Harry asked, his voice laced with desperation as he turned to his friend.
"Not yet..." David replied, lifting his head briefly from his book. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes. "I plan to tackle it later tonight. The pressure of a deadline makes me more efficient."
"David won't show it to you even if he finishes," Hermione interjected, her voice firm. "You should do your homework yourself, Harry. McGonagall's topics aren't difficult. You just need to read more and summarize the answers on your own."
Harry, recognizing an unwinnable argument, nodded automatically. Whether David had completed his work or not, Hermione was always right.
Madam Pince, the ever-watchful librarian, noticed their whispers and immediately brandished her feather duster in warning. A single glare was enough to remind them that further disruptions would earn them an eviction from the library. Hermione quickly waved her hands in apology, and silence reclaimed the space.
Only the rustling of parchment and the scratching of quills against paper filled the air once more.
David licked his dry lips as he turned the page of a thick, ancient tome—one gifted to him by Dumbledore himself. However, as his eyes traced the inked words, a sharp pain pierced his mind, and suddenly, his vision shifted.
He was no longer in the library but in a dense forest, surrounded by guttural, wild calls. The snap of breaking branches echoed around him. The scene was a blur of shifting colors—red, blue, yellow, and green—though red was the most prominent. It felt like looking through a thermal image.
Then, just as suddenly as it came, the vision vanished. But an unshakable, violent urge burned within him—a desire to destroy everything in sight.
"David, are you alright?" Hermione's concerned voice snapped him back to reality.
"I'm fine… just a little tired," he replied with a forced smile, though his mind was still reeling.
What was that vision? Was it because of this book?
He turned it over, reading the cover: A First Explanation of the Principles of Magic, personally translated and annotated by Dumbledore. No, Dumbledore wouldn't play tricks on him.
Then, a realization struck him. The sensation was eerily similar to when he had touched the unicorn last semester—like seeing into its memory.
Could this be connected to the basilisk?
Reaching into his bag, he found his small green snake restless as well. His heart tightened with urgency. He needed to check the forest.
"I'll be right back—just going to the bathroom," he announced casually, rising from his seat. Without waiting for a response, he slipped away.
Inside the stall, he latched the door, closed his eyes, and concentrated. The moment he blinked, his surroundings changed.
David found himself standing at the devastated entrance of the eight-eyed giant spider's cave. The destruction Snape had left behind was still evident—fallen trees, shattered branches, and the remnants of battle. The basilisk remained at its post, but its scales were marred with fresh wounds, some even stripped away, blood trickling down its long body.
Encircling it were dozens of tree monkey frogs, their eyes gleaming an unnatural red, filled with relentless hunger and rage. They hopped erratically, their jagged teeth bared as they lunged at the basilisk, tearing into its flesh.
Due to David's strict orders, the basilisk could not leave the cave's perimeter, forcing it into a defensive stance. It lashed out when attacked, but the frogs had learned its rhythm, attacking in coordinated waves. One group would provoke the basilisk, then retreat while another attacked from the opposite side. Slowly, they were wearing it down.
David's anger flared, a violent fire igniting within him.
"Come," he hissed in Parseltongue.
The basilisk shuddered, tossing several frogs away before slithering toward him, pressing its massive head against his chest like a wounded pet seeking comfort.
Raising his wand, a warm, milky-white glow emerged and flowed into the basilisk's injuries. Within moments, its wounds began to close, new scales regenerating.
The tree monkey frogs hesitated at first, but seeing David as a mere human, their bloodlust drove them forward again.
David climbed onto the basilisk's head, gazing at them with an eerily calm smile.
"You're quite bold..." he murmured.
At his silent command, the invisible beast he controlled removed the blindfold covering the basilisk's deadly eyes.
"Kill them," David ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.
Freed from its restraint, the basilisk lifted its head, its golden eyes glowing ominously. The tree monkey frogs leaped, completely unaware of their impending doom.
The moment their gaze met the basilisk's, agony overtook them. They convulsed mid-air, their bodies stiffening before they dropped lifelessly to the ground.
David patted the basilisk. "Enough. No need to eat them—it's filthy."
The basilisk obeyed instantly, even spitting out the ones it had swallowed. The remaining frogs, realizing their grim fate, scattered in a frantic escape.
The basilisk prepared to give chase, but David stopped it.
"No point—let them run. We'll deal with them properly."
As he pondered their next move, the sound of hooves approached. The centaurs had arrived.
Bane, their leader, halted at a distance, eyeing the basilisk warily.
"Bane, it's alright! Come here!" David called.
Bane hesitated before stepping closer. His arms bore fresh wounds.
"The tree monkey frogs are becoming a bigger threat than the eight-eyed spiders," Bane sighed. "They're too small—our arrows can't strike them effectively."
David nodded, his mind working rapidly. "I'll figure something out."
Bane studied him, then gave a short nod before galloping away.
David exhaled. He had made up his mind.
"The giant snakes in the Chamber of Secrets... Can they come out?" he asked his small green snake.
It nodded.
A slow grin spread across David's face.
"Then we have our solution."
Without wasting another second, he sprinted back to Hogwarts, nearly colliding with Hermione outside the library.
"Where have you been?" she asked, frowning.
"No time to explain. Do you want to go to the Chamber of Secrets?"
"Huh? Can I?"
"Of course!"
Grabbing her wrist, David dashed toward the girls' bathroom, Myrtle's excited chatter barely registering as he opened the entrance. As he descended into the chamber, determination blazed in his eyes.
Tonight, the true hunt would begin.