"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live up to a hundred years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."
I closed my copy of Most Macabre Monstrosities and extinguished the candle next to my table in the Library. It was close to breakfast time and I was due to join my Auror guard at the entrance of the Library as they too fruitlessly searched for more information to find the mythical basilisk roaming the halls of Hogwarts. The problem was that none of the texts ever talked about finding a basilisk, they were decidedly more concerned with running away from one. Not unreasonable advice all things considered.
I sighed as I moved away the textbook in front of me. I knew that Sirius Black was working with Hagrid to gather a bunch of roosters to use against the basilisk, whenever it was discovered. All the plans were ready, but nothing had come off them yet.
It had been a week.
If nothing continued to happen over the next ten days, then for the first time since 1727, when the plague of dragonpox infected nearly half the magical population of Britain, Hogwarts would not be open after the Winter Break. That was a sobering factoid to learn from the surprisingly chipper Madam Pince, I guess I would be happy too without children running around my precious library and ruining my precious books with their sticky fingers and desire for knowledge and other such rot.
I turned to the next table over and waved at the no-longer-quite-so-scary Auror Shacklebolt ("call me Shack"). Once you looked past his height, demeanour, chillingly deep voice and overall imposing presence, he was surprisingly nice with a soft spot for the Wigtown Wanderers' Quidditich team and Arroz Con Lech - some kind of Caribbean rice pudding. He also had a son in Third Year at Hogwarts.
I stood up and followed Shacklebolt's lead as he led me out of the Library. Everyday, a different minder would watch over me as I helped with research efforts in the morning and then patrolled the school corridors for hours on end with the Auror teams throughout the day, hoping to catch a sound of the basilisk.
Sometimes, when bored, the Aurors would even teach me some spells. Kingsley kindly taught me the supersensory charm. Apparently, there were limits to its use, but targeted use on certain body parts enhanced your abilities, but you could only handle the strain for a limited amount of time. He grinned and warned me not to use it on all my body parts and be careful with my experimentation. I didn't understand what he meant but he just laughed and said he would tell me when I was older. Whatever.
Other than Auror Moody and Shacklebolt, his deputy, the other Aurors were not told about my parseltongue ability, but I had a feeling they knew and chose not to comment.
"I'm surprised you haven't given Quidditch some serious thought, Harry." Shacklebolt's voice reverberated in the silent castle.
I shrugged. "I thought about it. I had a few lessons with Madam Hooch and they went well. I did speak to Professor Sprout about trying out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team, but she told me that First Years weren't allowed and it wouldn't be fair to the others to make an exception for me, so I thought next year maybe…" I trailed off.
The fact that there may not be a next year to try out hung in the air between us, unspoken but as loud as a church bell.
Shacklebolt muttered something in response, presumably to try to alleviate the awkwardness of the moment. It didn't work.
"Kill, rip…"
I froze and turned to the voice. It was faint. But it was there. The basilisk. Finally.
Shacklebolt turned to see my frozen form. Something about my face must have given it away and his light expression changed to alert and focused in a heartbeat. He withdrew his wand from within his sleeve and held it firm in his right hand, pointing downwards.
"That way," I said, pointing to the Hall of Staircases.
We charged along and I saw Shacklebolt incant a spell that expelled some silvery light from the tip of his wand that formed into some kind of animal, which scarpered off in a different direction. Interesting. But there would be time for that later. I placed a hand on each of my pockets and felt the familiar weight of my handheld mirrors. Moody insisted everyone carry two on their person since the day that Sirius hypothesised that the creature was likely a basilisk.
A faint whisper just barely audible. "It's moving downwards again."
We rushed through the Hall of Staircases and moved towards the main Entrance Hall, ready to head to the dungeons. But by then, the trail had run cold.
Shacklebolt swore something colourful that I wasn't sure I even understood, but I appreciated his frustration. I, for the most part, kept my ears peeled, just in case.
To no avail.
#
All the Aurors, Headmaster Dumbledore, Sirius and I sat around a round table in the middle of the Great Hall as we ate breakfast.
"We know it keeps moving downwards to escape,"Auror Moody said. He was suspiciously regarding all the people in the room, most of whom were his handpicked Auror team as he drank deeply from a personal canteen he kept on his person at all times.
Sirius made a small noise of disagreement and shook his head in the negative. Dumbledore nodded at Sirius' reaction. "That hardly matters, Alastor. The castle does not conform to ordinary ideas of direction, as you might remember," Sirius said.
Auror Moody grunted in annoyance.
"I have a question," I said with as much confidence I could muster. All eyes turned to me. "Um, the Headmaster did tell me that the snake was travelling around the castle using pipes. But um, the books I've read say that basilisks can get very big. Scarily big. How many pipes do we have that could fit a snake of that size?"
Auror Moody nodded at me with what looked like an expression of approval. I didn't know what to do with that since it seemed like I was a liability to him at all times. "The lad has a point. Albus?"
Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. "It's a good point, Mr. Potter. Had school been in session, I would have awarded Hufflepuff 5 points for your insight. However, Hogwarts' internal structure constantly changes, that includes the plumbing. Indeed, it was a tricky bit of enchanting that got the entire castle fixed with indoor plumbing in 1753. Headmistress Derwent in fact-"
"Yes, thank you, Albus, that should be enough," Auror Moody said without even trying to hide his eye roll.
I smothered my giggle at that.
Auror Moody turned back to Sirius, his eye revolving. "Black, I've been doing my research too. No text suggests that a basilisk can live past a hundred years. This one has been here since the founding of the school. That makes it over a millennium. How do you figure that?"
Sirius smiled and shrugged. "All recorded incidents with a basilisk have been at attempts at slaying them. They are not creatures that have been studied or had their longevities measured in captivity, or if they have, the researchers have not been forthcoming with publishing their results. Regardless, when a basilisk is involved, people usually die until the beast is put down. They are, after all, the product of a dark wizard's experimentation, not a natural predator birthed by Father Nature."
Sirius paused and put his hands behind his head and leaned back. "Who knows what their limits are when left unchecked? Or maybe you're right, basilisks aren't supposed to live that long, but then how has this one been kept alive for so long? Is it somehow immortal? Or indeed, it may not be a basilisk at all, but something more sinister, something Salazar Slytherin in all his mad genius cooked up especially to keep his secrets hidden?"
Everyone seemed appropriately horrified at this line of reasoning.
Sirius tapped his chin thoughtfully and smiled. "Not to worry, I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this. Come now gents," Sirius said with his arms folded. "Perhaps we have been looking at this all wrong? Instead of trying to find the beast, we ought to try to find the maker."
"How do you mean?" Shacklebolt asked.
Sirius shrugged but there was a knowing smile on his face. "Well, the way I see it, old Salazar made his special private clubhouse to hide his monster because he couldn't get his way, or so the tale goes. But we know nothing in Hogwarts stays put where it's supposed to. I doubt he left only one door for entry and egress. What were some of the main rooms that have existed since the founding and rarely, if ever, move, Albus?"
Dumbledore hummed. "The only spaces within the Castle that never change are the Great Hall, the Entrance Hall and the Grand Staircase. A small concession that Ravenclaw granted as the story goes. If Slytherin had indeed placed a convenient entrance to his Chamber, it would likely be somewhere around those spaces."
That's when I had a thought of a special corridor. I'm pretty sure my eyes widened and I looked straight at Sirius.
He looked back and his grin intensified, amusement shining in his bright blue eyes. "Thoughts, Harry?"
#
I stood in front of the invading army cresting a hill and swallowed another gulp of nervousness. The lead horseman of the army was nearly down the grassy hill so I knew we only had a little time to access the corridor. All the adult witches and wizards stood behind me, waiting.
I whispered to the horseman. "Um, hi. My friend Fred said you know the password to the corridor. I was wondering if you could tell me what it is. We really need some help now.
"Quattuor soli." The portrait whispered back. I nodded in relief.
I tapped my wand on the portrait and muttered the word and just like before, the portrait sunk in and up with the wall it was hung on, revealing the curiously empty corridor behind it with all its zigzag detailing.
I walked into the corridor and Sirius, Shacklebolt and Dumbledore followed after, only for the main entrance to snap shut behind them.
Dumbledore regarded the closed wall curiously, tapped his wand on it and closed his eyes. "It seems it is only four at a time."
Sirius and Shacklebolt merely shrugged. I wasn't surprised either. Secret corridors and rooms in Hogwarts often had strange and unique rules.
"I shall send a message to our lost friends, gentlemen," he said cordially.
The three of us began walking up the corridor to approach the blank slate of wall at the end with the large crack in it and the two benches on either side. Sirius and Shacklebolt were looking around curiously, drinking it all in. As we got to the blank wall at the end of the corridor, I turned to the two of them and shrugged with a worried smile.
"Well, this corridor felt old, I dunno, you did say to turn every stone." I wasn't sure what made me think this corridor was the answer, but it felt like worth a try.
Dumbledore had caught up with us by this point. He was eyeing the corridor with interest, particularly the zigzagging on the walls.
"A fascinating find, Mr. Potter."
I looked to the floor. "Fred showed it to me. He found it in his Second Year." I felt a little weight in my chest thinking about my petrified friend. I wondered what it felt like to be petrified and then stopped that train of thought forcefully.
"What made you think this might be the way?" Sirius asked.
I looked around and felt a little heat under my collar as the three wizards looked down at me. "Um, well, it's a dead end."
Sirius raised his brow while Dumbledore smiled.
"What I mean is, it feels like a dead end. But this is Hogwarts, it wasn't made to block you-"
"-but to make you think." Sirius finished for me and I flushed and nodded with a smile.
Shacklebolt chuckled. "Haven't heard that one since I was a schoolboy and cursing the disappearance of our Defence classroom right alongside Professor Merrythought."
"I shall try to see where this corridor stands amongst the Hogwarts wards. Please excuse my lack of participation for a few moments," Dumbledore said. He then closed his eyes and clasped his wand in both hands, a soft glow appeared at the tip.
Shacklebolt wandered over to the side and touched the zigzags on the walls. Sirius on the other hand went straight to the dead end and tapped the crack in the wall. He looked at it closely and appeared to be studying it. I looked at him, wondering what he was thinking. Slowly, a big grin broke out over his face.
"Harry, come stand beside me for a minute."
I complied.
"From a certain angle, wouldn't you agree this crack in the wall looks almost…serpentine?"
Dumbledore had joined us from behind at that point, keenly studying the wall alongside Sirius.
I nodded in response to Sirius' question. "So?"
Sirius grinned. "Well, we do have a Parselmouth with us. Be a good lad, tell it to open up."
I stared at him in confusion for a second before looking back at the crack. "Uh…open."
"That was English," Shacklebolt said.
I scratched my head and looked at Dumbledore.
He nodded. "Close your eyes, Mr. Potter, imagine a snake in your mind's eye and imagine yourself speaking to the snake."
I did as I was told. I imagined the same little brown snake Dumbledore had conjured in his office. With that picture fixed in my mind's eyes, I tried again.
"Open."
The corridor shook. The crack in the wall at the dead end shifted, moved, and then slithered. All the other zigzags in the corridor walls began to slither towards the dead end and converge in the centre, creating a door-like gap in the previously solid wall. A soft light emanated from beyond.
All four of us couldn't help but stare on, transfixed.
Sirius was the first to break from his stupor. "Wicked."
The corridor opened into a wide open clearing space. It was octagonal with perfectly angled walls framing the room on each of its eight sides. There were mirrors all along the walls and painted onto the mirrors were images of little green snakes. The floor was the same décor as the corridor we just walked in from - black and castle rock.
"Oh my," Dumbledore said.
I turned to look at him and saw that his eyes were facing upwards. I followed his line of sight and saw that the entire ceiling was transparent and from there, we could see all the way into the Hufflepuff Common Room. But oddly, the colours were off - they were green and silver instead of the badger yellow and black.
"Figures, Slytherin built a ceiling to spy on his own students," Shacklebolt said, now also looking up in wonder.
Ah, that explained the colours. Though I was happy to note that the Slytherins did not have beanbags.
"The Slytherin Common Room was moved to its current location after the second seige of Hogwarts in 1322, when the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Towers were destroyed." Dumbledore said lightly.
I raised my eyebrows.
"Is there anything about the school that you don't know, Albus?" Sirius asked the question on what I presumed was on everyone's minds.
Dumbledore chuckled, looking away from the ceiling. He pointed upwards. "What is now the Slytherin Common Room, historically, was Salazar Slytherin's own personal quarters where he lived with his family. Hogwarts was built to accommodate thousands comfortably. We were sieged often in centuries past. The record shows that once the students moved in from their respective ruined Towers, the faculty and school board elected not to reconstruct their Towers and the new Common Rooms and dormitories were set evermore. It was quite the scandal at the time."
"So he chose to spy on his family then? How comforting." Sirius quipped and laughed a booming laugh.
"Fascinating history lesson, Professor," Shacklebolt said, "but how does this help us find Slytherin's secret Chamber?"
Dumbledore tapped his chin. He looked towards me and I stared back, not sure what he wanted. "Mr. Potter, why don't you ask one of these lovely snakes on the mirrors?"
I blinked. Well, alright then. I nervously shuffled to one of the many green snakes slithering all over the mirrors. I focused on one green little thing and cleared my throat.
"Hi, um, do you know the way to Sssslytherin's Chamber?"
The snake hissed something but I could barely hear it. I leaned in closer.
There was a garbled sound that I couldn't really understand, but I did catch the last word: "Here."
I leaned back confused and turned to face my eagerly awaiting comrades.
"It says we're already heeee-"
I yelped in horror as I felt a mirror-snake coil around my midsection and pull me into the mirror behind in the span of a heartbeat. I heard the echo of Dumbledore, Shacklebolt and Sirius reacting. My last sight was that of Dumbledore pointing his wand, all amusement wiped from his expression and replaced with dead seriousness. Alas, the snake was too fast even for his casting.
There was a whirl of colour, blank white, then black. I could feel a scream climbing up my throat as the kaleidoscope of the rainbow flashed before my eyes. But before I could let out a shout, I was spat out and thrown on hard, wet, stone floor. I heard as my head went thwack and groaned justifiably.
I sat up slowly, a hand placed on the back of my head and massaging it. I knew it was going to bruise. Then I remembered what happened, my eyes widened and my heartbeat, which had barely gone done at all, spiked up further. I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. I rested my hand on the black stretch of wall I was confident I had fallen out of. I began to bang the wall with my fist.
"Professor! Sirius! Kingsley!" I called. I wasn't sure if they could hear or see me, but I received not a sound in response.
Okay, Harry. You're stuck somewhere but you can get out of this. Hogwarts wasn't made to block you, but-
"KILL, RIP, TEAR, HUUUUUNGRYYYYY…"
My rapidly beating heart hammered harder. For months I had hunted this sound and always heard it muffled, and from a distance. I could hear the words of the creature loud and clear now. There was no barrier separating us. It was here, in this room, with me, somewhere.
I turned around from the blank stretch of black wall, but stopped in my movements immediately. I closed my eyes tight and pulled out my wand.
I was so grateful for all my morning Library time because I had had the chance to look up and learn from Shacklebolt the supersensory charm. With a soft incantation and a wiggle and jab on my ears, my hearing increased tenfold. The beauty of the charm now was I could pick up vibrations. With training and expertise, one could pick up on the lightest footsteps, but I had neither training nor expertise, yet the charm, even on the ears of a novice, was sensitive enough to pick up on the movements of a twenty foot snake that moaned about its appetite a lot.
A small slither, somewhere to the left of my current position. I turned to the right and opened my eyes carefully. Not dead. Good. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small handheld mirror, silently sending a prayer of gratitude to Moody and his paranoia.
I began to take small steps to the right, as quietly as possible while running over the facts I had picked up about basilisks from Sirius and my research. They were fast; they were strong; their skins were magic-resistant; their yellow eyes killed or petrified, but only when they looked at you and intentionally made eye contact and not if you casually got a glimpse of them; they didn't eat petrified victims; their fangs were poisonous; upon encountering one, run away, fast.
Another slither, a little further way. Good.
Basilisks were a bastardised creation of Emeric The Evil. Even though modelled after snakes, they did not have snake-like biology because they were not naturally occurring or born. They did not see with the smells on their tongues, they saw with their killer yellow eyes. They heard from the holes on the sides of their heads. If stuck with a basilisk and unable to escape, take out the eyes, it delays the inevitable.
Fortunately, there is a conjunctivitis curse designed exactly for this kind of situation. Unfortunately, I hadn't got around to learning it because I was so focused on the supersonsory charm instead. I cursed myself, my mind running feverishly blank at my stupidity, the beginning of tears filling my eyes.
It's okay. It's okay. I breathed as deeply as I could without making a sound. Focus on the here and now. Regrets are not helpful, listen to Dumbledore's words. Besides, if I died because the basilisk heard me crying, well, I would never forgive myself. Deep breaths.
The tears dried a bit and I felt calmer. I looked around at my surroundings through the mirror in my hand. The room looked large. I tilted the mirror up, no transparent ceiling, but the ceiling was very high. I guess that makes sense, the room had to accommodate a giant snake. There was mould, rat skeletons, dirt, grime and hints of sewage water on the floor. I carefully walked around sewage puddles, not wanting to make a splashing sound to give myself away.
"Sssssoooo hungry…"
It was close, very close. I froze and pressed myself against the wall closest to me. There was a sound of dirt being moved and rubbish being hurled. I looked into my mirror and angled it in the direction of the sound.
I was shivering, my hand was shaking badly, but I controlled myself and looked into the compact, my breath held in my throat. Rubbish and debris was being hurled aside. The sewage water puddles were being swished and splashed as the creature moved.
I saw all this in my mirror. But there was no reflection of the basilisk.
I fearfully chanced a look behind the wall I was pressed against. My lips were trembling, my whole body shaking in fear. I regretted it immediately.
There it was. Long, slimy, black as ink and covered in grime and sick. A long pink tongue slithered in and out of its gaping mouth that was easily the size of Uncle Vernon's BMW and within its mouth glistened sharp fangs, each fang was the size of me. Finally, I saw but a hint of its large, terrifying, deadly red eyes.
I gulped and turned to look in my mirror, there was still no reflection of the basilisk.
I turned back away from the basilisk and slid down on the floor, my back pressing into the wall, pretending it was an impenetrable barrier between me and certain death. I tried to get my breathing under control. Think Harry. The basilisk is real, I need to get out of this.
A basilisk is not supposed to live this long, not in theory, not on what we know about them. But this one is over a thousand years old. A basilisk is supposed to have yellow eyes, but this one's are red. A basilisk has a reflection, this one doesn't.
What dark creature is immortal, with red eyes, and has no reflection? My mind wandered back to chapter four of my Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook where we got an introduction to all the major dark creatures that wizards and witches were taught to defend themselves from. There were hinkypunks and grindylows, werewolves and-
My eyes were wide open, I gulped and felt myself heating up in terror.
A vampire basilisk.
This time, when the tears fell, I didn't care.
