Chapter 20
Harry stared hard at the globe in his hands, concentrating hard on Hermione. He'd been doing this off and on ever since Lucius Malfoy had visited him the day before; so far nothing had happened.
He had tried stroking the globe, as Malfoy had, with the thought of the vision he would like to receive firmly in his mind. I want to see more about Hermione, he'd think, or, I want to see why Ginny is writing to Voldemort. It never worked; in fact, he was beginning to think that it was some sort of wizard television set and that it only played specific, pre- programmed scenes.
On a sudden strange inspiration, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from where he had stuffed it between the cot and the stone wall and draped it around himself. Then he stared once more at the globe and thought hard, I want to see Ron.
Nothing happened. He stroked it, the same thought in mind. Still nothing.
Sighing, he pulled the Cloak off and let the globe drop onto the cot. It was no use, after all.
The light, flickering crazily, caught his attention. His candle-he had taken to lighting candles once more-was nearly completely used up; a moment later it guttered and died, leaving a hot pool of wax on the floor where Harry had placed the candleholder.
He stuck another candle into the brass holder and ignited it with a fingerful of fire-starter ointment. The flame leaped high, nearly scorching his fingers, and provided once more a small area of flickering light for him to see by.
Absentmindedly, he ran a finger along the globe, his unanswered questions about Ginny's strange behavior running ceaselessly through his head.
Suddenly colors began to whirl in the globe; an image was rapidly growing inside. A moment later, Harry was presented with the picture of an empty dormitory. He recognized it from the picture earlier-it was Ginny's.
A moment later, the door opened and Ginny walked in, a dejected look on her face. Judging by the book she tossed onto her four-poster-101 Magical Herbs and Fungi-she had just gone through the torment of her first Potions lesson.
Her eyes looked suspiciously bright as she sprawled on her bed. Idly, she picked up A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. She thumbed through it, blinking her eyes rapidly.
Quite unexpectedly, a small book dropped out of the middle of her Transfiguration textbook. It was the same book she had held in the earlier scene, the small black book in which she had written to "Tom". Her face registered surprise as she picked it up-Must be before the other one, Harry thought-and began to thumb through it.
A smile spread slowly over her face and a moment later she jumped up and retrieved a quill from the top of her bureau. Dipping it into the ink, she put the tip of the quill to the page.
The picture blinked suddenly, although this time it didn't disappear. Now, Harry was looking at another close-up of Ginny's hand, writing in the diary.
"Dear Diary,"
"I'm so glad I've found something that I can confide in. I haven't been here at Hogwarts for long, and I haven't made any wonderful friends that I can tell anything to." She paused for a moment, then continued. Harry wondered briefly why the ink hadn't yet been sucked into the page.
"I wonder who Tom Riddle is," Ginny wrote. "This is his diary, but it's fifty years old and he never wrote in it, so I suppose he wouldn't mind me borrowing it for a while. Until I get a good friend, at least."
Now the ink was being pulled into the page. Ginny's hand froze over the page, and Harry was sure that surprise was written all over her face.
A moment later, the ink came back in re-formed words.
Of course I would not mind you "borrowing" my diary. My name is Tom Riddle. Who are you?
Ginny's hand went to the diary immediately-Harry had the distinct impression that she was so excited to have found a confidant that she didn't think twice about the long-term consequences of her short-term actions.
"My name is Ginny Weasley," she scribbled. Her hand wobbled slightly in her excitement. "I'm a first year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Hello, Ginny Weasley, Riddle wrote back. I attented Hogwarts also.
"Oh," Ginny wrote. Her hand hovered over the page for a moment and then she continued. "How are you like this-you know, writing to me?" she asked.
I have preserved my memories in a more permanent fashion than a typical diary, Riddle replied. This way my memories cannot be erased, no matter hard others may try.
"But I don't understand," Ginny scrawled. "Why would anyone want to destroy your diary?"
I have seen things that some might wish not to have remembered.
"What kind of things?" Ginny wrote curiously.
Let me show you, Riddle replied.
* * *
The steady drip of an out-of-order sink resounded off the stone walls of the dimly lit bathroom as if a thousand men were pounding bass drums in synch.
"You're quite sure about this place?" Christof asked stiffly, for the fifth time.
"Yes," Hermione replied. "No one ever comes in here. It's a good place to start."
Christof began to prowl around the bathroom, examining the sinks and the toilets. He seemed especially interested in a particular sink, one Myrtle told them had been broken "for ages".
"I don't quite trust him," Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, stop it," Hermione said waspishly. "Leave, if you don't."
Ron scowled, but stayed put.
Hermione tapped her foot impatiently and checked the watch she wore. "Hurry up," she complained. "Somehow I doubt that whatever we're looking for is in here, and if we have to search all the bathrooms in a few hours we've got to hurry."
"No," said Christof in a strange voice. "It-it's here."
Hermione and Ron both sprinted to the sink. "Where?" they asked in unison.
"Here," said Christof, pointing to a small symbol etched into the metal.
Hermione peered at it in the dim light of the bathroom. "It's a snake," she said confusedly. "But-that could mean anything-we've no way to know-,"
"Of course it's right," said a smooth voice from behind them. All three turned around sharply, startled. Professor Aracidia stood a few feet away, watching them with a queer smile hovering on his lips. "I must say, Mr. Malfoy, you do have a fine mind." His words were mild, but there was a hint of pleased surprise hidden beneath.
Christof didn't answer, but looked doubtfully at Aracidia. "Uh-thanks," he said finally. He was obviously waiting for Aracidia to leave, but the Professor had no intention of doing so.
"Well-speak the word," he said impatiently after a few moments of stony silence. "Quickly. We haven't all day-that poor child-," he turned and gave a significantly pitying look to Ron.
"Yeah," said Ron. "Please-let's go." He looked decidedly pale in the flickering candlelight coming from the wall sconces.
"Er-okay," said Christof awkwardly, staring hard at the pipe. He swayed back and forth slightly, and Hermione wondered uneasily if he was going into some sort of trance that they would have to pull him out of.
Suddenly he let out a low hiss. Hermione and Ron gaped wordlessly as the sink began to move. A moment later it sank, right out of sight, exposing a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.
Ron gasped.
"I'm going in there, then," he said after a moment's stunned pause.
"Me too," said Hermione in a small voice.
"Me too," repeated Christof.
"But I will go first, children," said Aracidia sonorously. "If there is something down there, something terrible, then I do not want three so young putting themselves in such danger."
Christof glanced sharply at the teacher, but Aracidia's face was expressionless except for a well-meaning concern.
"All right then," he said rather roughly.
Aracidia slid his legs into the pipe. A moment later he had disappeared.
Ron swung a leg into the pipe, but Christof was faster. Shoving Ron gently aside, he slipped into the pipe after Aracidia.
"Whatever," Ron muttered, and followed.
A moment later, Hermione was left alone in the bathroom, hearing only the steady drip of the leaky sink. Drawing in her breath resolutely, she, too, slid into the pipe.
It was like rushing down a very long, very dark, very slimy slide. More pipes branched off of it in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward. Hermione knew instinctively that she was falling deeper below the school even than the dungeons.
Just as she had begun to worry about what would happen when she hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and she shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. It was lit with a weird, greenish light, bright enough only for her to see the faces of her companions as she wiped her slimy hands on her equally slimy robes.
"Lumos," said Hermione. The tip of her wand flared brightly for a moment, and then became a steady golden light, casting a yellow glow about ten feet all around them.
"That's better then," said Ron, his voice echoing in the tunnel.
"We must be miles below the school," said Hermione.
"Under the lake, probably," supplied Ron.
They began to walk slowly forward. The eerie green light had grown dimmer; the glow from Hermione's wand was now nearly smothered by the darkness of the tunnel around them.
As they turned round a dark bend in the tunnel, Ron gave a low exclamation. "There's something up there," he said fearfully.
They could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.
"A Basilisk," said three voices. Ron looked confusedly at his companions.
"A what?" he whispered.
"A Basilisk," said Hermione. "A large snake-hatched out of a chicken's egg under a toad-it's very venomous, and if you look it in the eye it can kill you."
"That's what's been attacking everyone?" Ron asked. "But-you were all just- Petrified, I mean-,"
"I had no idea," Hermione whispered. "I just saw these eyes.and Ron, it's been Petrifying people because-because no one saw it face-to-face! Beatrice Walker-she saw it through her camera. Christof-you saw it through Nearly Headless Nick, didn't you! I saw the reflection in the glass of water I'd spilled. None of us died, because none of us had looked it straight on."
Christof was nodding. "That's right," he said, half to himself. "And the voices.."
"What voices?" Hermione asked suddenly, rounding on him. "You've been hearing voices?"
"Yeah," said Christof. "Disembodied voices. Every time before someone was going to be attacked. I was chasing it when I got attacked-I had no idea what it could've been. I didn't see the whole thing either, just these big, bulbous yellow eyes-," he gave an involuntary shudder.
Hermione looked at him strangely. "You heard the Basilisk talk?" she asked. "You don't mean that-you can't-,"
"Yeah," Christof said again. "How did you think I knew to check the pipes?"
Ron was looking from one to the other, very confused. "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked irritatedly.
"I'm a Parseltongue," Christof said simply.
"A what?" Ron asked incredulously. "No-I know what it is. It's just-you can't-," he shot Christof a suspicious glance.
"I am, though," Christof clarified. "And all this year I've been hearing voices in the walls-that was the Basilisk moving through the pipes."
"Oh," said Ron, still suspicious.
Suddenly a jet of violet light lit the tunnel. All three of them jumped out of the way, white-faced and panting.
"What-was-that?" Christof gasped. The three were suddenly united in fear.
Professor Aracidia, who had edged away slowly as Christof was speaking, now stood facing them, wand held ready. "Don't move," he said triumphantly. "Walk slowly forward. Do not try to draw your wands. Miss Granger, nox your light and replace your wand in your pocket. Do not try to use it against me, Miss Granger. Trust me, it will not work."
Christof, Ron, and Hermione gaped at him. "What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"C'mon, Professor," Ron said irritatedly, "We've got to go. There's a Basilisk sleeping in the corner-my sister's somewhere down here-,"
"Ron's right, it's not the time for jokes," Hermione said falteringly.
"I am not joking, Miss Granger," said Aracidia coldly. "Now, please put your wand away before I am compelled to do so for you." He raised his own wand a little higher, pointing it toward Hermione.
"Expelliarmus!" bellowed Christof as Aracidia menaced Hermione. The Professor's wand flew out of his hand and Christof caught it.
"Watch your back next time," he said coolly.
"What did you do?" Ron asked, impressed.
"A Disarming charm," said Christof without taking his eyes, or his wand, off of Aracidia. "My dad taught it to me. Listen, at least one of us has to keep going. At least one of us has to stay with him. How will we split?"
"I'll keep going," Ron volunteered quickly.
"Okay," said Christof. "Hermione?" he turned to look at her over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
"Er-I'll-,"
Suddenly Aaracidia darted out of spellrange and barreled into Ron, knocking him over onto the stone floor. Quickly, before either Hermione or Christof could curse him, he had grabbed Ron's wand and brandished it at them.
"So," he said triumphantly. "So."
"So what?" Ron, still on the floor, asked defiantly.
"You should never try to outsmart a teacher," said Aracidia, ignoring Ron's remark. "Now, both of you-drop your wands. NOW! Or I will make you."
Hermione's wand fell with a small plunk. Christof hesitated for a moment, but then he, too, dropped the wands he carried.
"Accio! Accio! Accio!" Aracidia cried, and the wands flew up into his hands. Immediately he picked out his own and fingered it as he spoke.
"As I said before, never try to oustmart a teacher. Now, all of you, follow me."
He began to walk slowly backward, nearer and nearer towards the dark shape of the Basilisk.
"What are you doing?!" Christof asked furiously.
Aracidia did not answer, but kept his wand trained on the three students.
"Lumos," he whispered after a moment. As the light flared, they could see that the skin of the Basilisk was a bright, poisonous green. The enormous snake was not moving; it seemed to be asleep.
Aracidia walked past it, his wand never faltering. As they neared the form, they saw that it was not the Basilisk itself, but an unused skin.
Suddenly, as they entered the next, dark tunnel, the light at the end of Aracidia's wand went out.
Aracidia cursed softly for a moment, and tried to relight it, but the darkness remained complete.
"Listen, I'm going to see if I can get past him," Christof whispered in the dark, and slipped away.
A moment later, there was a shout as he knocked into Professor Aracidia. Red sparks shot up-Christof seemed to have gotten his wand, or at least a wand, back-Aracidia shouted a curse-
The tunnel began to shake slightly under their feet. A rumbling sounded, growing closer every moment-
"Run!" It was Christof yelling, up ahead. Ron and Hermione sprinted blindly up the tunnel, only to run headlong into Aracidia. All three went tumbling to the ground, a writhing mass of arms and legs.
The rumbling increased. Large chunks of the tunnel began to fall-a small chip hit Aracidia squarely in the head, and he went limp. Ron and Hermione disentagled themselves from his senseless form and stood up, doing their best to dodge the stones falling around them.
A moment later, the rumbling stopped. Hermione, on her hands and knees, began feeling around for a wand-her hand came in contact with one that had flown out of Aracidia's hand as the stone struck him.
"Lumos!" she shouted. The light blinded her eyes for a moment, but then cast a steady glow around them.
She, Aracidia, and Ron were on one side of a large barrier made up of fallen chunks of stone. A good deal of the tunnel seemed to have caved in around them. Ron, about fifteen feet away from her, crawled over to where Aracidia lay and retrieved his own wand. Christof was nowhere to be seen.
"Christof!" Hermione shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Christof, are you there?!"
"I'm here," came a faint reply from the other side of the wall. "This barrier's pretty big though-are you all okay?"
"Yeah, except Aracidia," Hermione shouted back. "He got knocked out-stone hit him in the head."
"Listen, I'm going on," Christof called. "We can't just leave Ginny in there-,"
"Yeah," Hermione called back. There was a long pause.
"Er-if I don't come back in an hour-,"
Another very expectant pause.
"Yeah," Hermione repeated. "Go. We'll start clearing as much of this as we can away, so you can get back when-when you're done."
Harry stared hard at the globe in his hands, concentrating hard on Hermione. He'd been doing this off and on ever since Lucius Malfoy had visited him the day before; so far nothing had happened.
He had tried stroking the globe, as Malfoy had, with the thought of the vision he would like to receive firmly in his mind. I want to see more about Hermione, he'd think, or, I want to see why Ginny is writing to Voldemort. It never worked; in fact, he was beginning to think that it was some sort of wizard television set and that it only played specific, pre- programmed scenes.
On a sudden strange inspiration, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from where he had stuffed it between the cot and the stone wall and draped it around himself. Then he stared once more at the globe and thought hard, I want to see Ron.
Nothing happened. He stroked it, the same thought in mind. Still nothing.
Sighing, he pulled the Cloak off and let the globe drop onto the cot. It was no use, after all.
The light, flickering crazily, caught his attention. His candle-he had taken to lighting candles once more-was nearly completely used up; a moment later it guttered and died, leaving a hot pool of wax on the floor where Harry had placed the candleholder.
He stuck another candle into the brass holder and ignited it with a fingerful of fire-starter ointment. The flame leaped high, nearly scorching his fingers, and provided once more a small area of flickering light for him to see by.
Absentmindedly, he ran a finger along the globe, his unanswered questions about Ginny's strange behavior running ceaselessly through his head.
Suddenly colors began to whirl in the globe; an image was rapidly growing inside. A moment later, Harry was presented with the picture of an empty dormitory. He recognized it from the picture earlier-it was Ginny's.
A moment later, the door opened and Ginny walked in, a dejected look on her face. Judging by the book she tossed onto her four-poster-101 Magical Herbs and Fungi-she had just gone through the torment of her first Potions lesson.
Her eyes looked suspiciously bright as she sprawled on her bed. Idly, she picked up A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. She thumbed through it, blinking her eyes rapidly.
Quite unexpectedly, a small book dropped out of the middle of her Transfiguration textbook. It was the same book she had held in the earlier scene, the small black book in which she had written to "Tom". Her face registered surprise as she picked it up-Must be before the other one, Harry thought-and began to thumb through it.
A smile spread slowly over her face and a moment later she jumped up and retrieved a quill from the top of her bureau. Dipping it into the ink, she put the tip of the quill to the page.
The picture blinked suddenly, although this time it didn't disappear. Now, Harry was looking at another close-up of Ginny's hand, writing in the diary.
"Dear Diary,"
"I'm so glad I've found something that I can confide in. I haven't been here at Hogwarts for long, and I haven't made any wonderful friends that I can tell anything to." She paused for a moment, then continued. Harry wondered briefly why the ink hadn't yet been sucked into the page.
"I wonder who Tom Riddle is," Ginny wrote. "This is his diary, but it's fifty years old and he never wrote in it, so I suppose he wouldn't mind me borrowing it for a while. Until I get a good friend, at least."
Now the ink was being pulled into the page. Ginny's hand froze over the page, and Harry was sure that surprise was written all over her face.
A moment later, the ink came back in re-formed words.
Of course I would not mind you "borrowing" my diary. My name is Tom Riddle. Who are you?
Ginny's hand went to the diary immediately-Harry had the distinct impression that she was so excited to have found a confidant that she didn't think twice about the long-term consequences of her short-term actions.
"My name is Ginny Weasley," she scribbled. Her hand wobbled slightly in her excitement. "I'm a first year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Hello, Ginny Weasley, Riddle wrote back. I attented Hogwarts also.
"Oh," Ginny wrote. Her hand hovered over the page for a moment and then she continued. "How are you like this-you know, writing to me?" she asked.
I have preserved my memories in a more permanent fashion than a typical diary, Riddle replied. This way my memories cannot be erased, no matter hard others may try.
"But I don't understand," Ginny scrawled. "Why would anyone want to destroy your diary?"
I have seen things that some might wish not to have remembered.
"What kind of things?" Ginny wrote curiously.
Let me show you, Riddle replied.
* * *
The steady drip of an out-of-order sink resounded off the stone walls of the dimly lit bathroom as if a thousand men were pounding bass drums in synch.
"You're quite sure about this place?" Christof asked stiffly, for the fifth time.
"Yes," Hermione replied. "No one ever comes in here. It's a good place to start."
Christof began to prowl around the bathroom, examining the sinks and the toilets. He seemed especially interested in a particular sink, one Myrtle told them had been broken "for ages".
"I don't quite trust him," Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, stop it," Hermione said waspishly. "Leave, if you don't."
Ron scowled, but stayed put.
Hermione tapped her foot impatiently and checked the watch she wore. "Hurry up," she complained. "Somehow I doubt that whatever we're looking for is in here, and if we have to search all the bathrooms in a few hours we've got to hurry."
"No," said Christof in a strange voice. "It-it's here."
Hermione and Ron both sprinted to the sink. "Where?" they asked in unison.
"Here," said Christof, pointing to a small symbol etched into the metal.
Hermione peered at it in the dim light of the bathroom. "It's a snake," she said confusedly. "But-that could mean anything-we've no way to know-,"
"Of course it's right," said a smooth voice from behind them. All three turned around sharply, startled. Professor Aracidia stood a few feet away, watching them with a queer smile hovering on his lips. "I must say, Mr. Malfoy, you do have a fine mind." His words were mild, but there was a hint of pleased surprise hidden beneath.
Christof didn't answer, but looked doubtfully at Aracidia. "Uh-thanks," he said finally. He was obviously waiting for Aracidia to leave, but the Professor had no intention of doing so.
"Well-speak the word," he said impatiently after a few moments of stony silence. "Quickly. We haven't all day-that poor child-," he turned and gave a significantly pitying look to Ron.
"Yeah," said Ron. "Please-let's go." He looked decidedly pale in the flickering candlelight coming from the wall sconces.
"Er-okay," said Christof awkwardly, staring hard at the pipe. He swayed back and forth slightly, and Hermione wondered uneasily if he was going into some sort of trance that they would have to pull him out of.
Suddenly he let out a low hiss. Hermione and Ron gaped wordlessly as the sink began to move. A moment later it sank, right out of sight, exposing a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.
Ron gasped.
"I'm going in there, then," he said after a moment's stunned pause.
"Me too," said Hermione in a small voice.
"Me too," repeated Christof.
"But I will go first, children," said Aracidia sonorously. "If there is something down there, something terrible, then I do not want three so young putting themselves in such danger."
Christof glanced sharply at the teacher, but Aracidia's face was expressionless except for a well-meaning concern.
"All right then," he said rather roughly.
Aracidia slid his legs into the pipe. A moment later he had disappeared.
Ron swung a leg into the pipe, but Christof was faster. Shoving Ron gently aside, he slipped into the pipe after Aracidia.
"Whatever," Ron muttered, and followed.
A moment later, Hermione was left alone in the bathroom, hearing only the steady drip of the leaky sink. Drawing in her breath resolutely, she, too, slid into the pipe.
It was like rushing down a very long, very dark, very slimy slide. More pipes branched off of it in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward. Hermione knew instinctively that she was falling deeper below the school even than the dungeons.
Just as she had begun to worry about what would happen when she hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and she shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. It was lit with a weird, greenish light, bright enough only for her to see the faces of her companions as she wiped her slimy hands on her equally slimy robes.
"Lumos," said Hermione. The tip of her wand flared brightly for a moment, and then became a steady golden light, casting a yellow glow about ten feet all around them.
"That's better then," said Ron, his voice echoing in the tunnel.
"We must be miles below the school," said Hermione.
"Under the lake, probably," supplied Ron.
They began to walk slowly forward. The eerie green light had grown dimmer; the glow from Hermione's wand was now nearly smothered by the darkness of the tunnel around them.
As they turned round a dark bend in the tunnel, Ron gave a low exclamation. "There's something up there," he said fearfully.
They could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.
"A Basilisk," said three voices. Ron looked confusedly at his companions.
"A what?" he whispered.
"A Basilisk," said Hermione. "A large snake-hatched out of a chicken's egg under a toad-it's very venomous, and if you look it in the eye it can kill you."
"That's what's been attacking everyone?" Ron asked. "But-you were all just- Petrified, I mean-,"
"I had no idea," Hermione whispered. "I just saw these eyes.and Ron, it's been Petrifying people because-because no one saw it face-to-face! Beatrice Walker-she saw it through her camera. Christof-you saw it through Nearly Headless Nick, didn't you! I saw the reflection in the glass of water I'd spilled. None of us died, because none of us had looked it straight on."
Christof was nodding. "That's right," he said, half to himself. "And the voices.."
"What voices?" Hermione asked suddenly, rounding on him. "You've been hearing voices?"
"Yeah," said Christof. "Disembodied voices. Every time before someone was going to be attacked. I was chasing it when I got attacked-I had no idea what it could've been. I didn't see the whole thing either, just these big, bulbous yellow eyes-," he gave an involuntary shudder.
Hermione looked at him strangely. "You heard the Basilisk talk?" she asked. "You don't mean that-you can't-,"
"Yeah," Christof said again. "How did you think I knew to check the pipes?"
Ron was looking from one to the other, very confused. "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked irritatedly.
"I'm a Parseltongue," Christof said simply.
"A what?" Ron asked incredulously. "No-I know what it is. It's just-you can't-," he shot Christof a suspicious glance.
"I am, though," Christof clarified. "And all this year I've been hearing voices in the walls-that was the Basilisk moving through the pipes."
"Oh," said Ron, still suspicious.
Suddenly a jet of violet light lit the tunnel. All three of them jumped out of the way, white-faced and panting.
"What-was-that?" Christof gasped. The three were suddenly united in fear.
Professor Aracidia, who had edged away slowly as Christof was speaking, now stood facing them, wand held ready. "Don't move," he said triumphantly. "Walk slowly forward. Do not try to draw your wands. Miss Granger, nox your light and replace your wand in your pocket. Do not try to use it against me, Miss Granger. Trust me, it will not work."
Christof, Ron, and Hermione gaped at him. "What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"C'mon, Professor," Ron said irritatedly, "We've got to go. There's a Basilisk sleeping in the corner-my sister's somewhere down here-,"
"Ron's right, it's not the time for jokes," Hermione said falteringly.
"I am not joking, Miss Granger," said Aracidia coldly. "Now, please put your wand away before I am compelled to do so for you." He raised his own wand a little higher, pointing it toward Hermione.
"Expelliarmus!" bellowed Christof as Aracidia menaced Hermione. The Professor's wand flew out of his hand and Christof caught it.
"Watch your back next time," he said coolly.
"What did you do?" Ron asked, impressed.
"A Disarming charm," said Christof without taking his eyes, or his wand, off of Aracidia. "My dad taught it to me. Listen, at least one of us has to keep going. At least one of us has to stay with him. How will we split?"
"I'll keep going," Ron volunteered quickly.
"Okay," said Christof. "Hermione?" he turned to look at her over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
"Er-I'll-,"
Suddenly Aaracidia darted out of spellrange and barreled into Ron, knocking him over onto the stone floor. Quickly, before either Hermione or Christof could curse him, he had grabbed Ron's wand and brandished it at them.
"So," he said triumphantly. "So."
"So what?" Ron, still on the floor, asked defiantly.
"You should never try to outsmart a teacher," said Aracidia, ignoring Ron's remark. "Now, both of you-drop your wands. NOW! Or I will make you."
Hermione's wand fell with a small plunk. Christof hesitated for a moment, but then he, too, dropped the wands he carried.
"Accio! Accio! Accio!" Aracidia cried, and the wands flew up into his hands. Immediately he picked out his own and fingered it as he spoke.
"As I said before, never try to oustmart a teacher. Now, all of you, follow me."
He began to walk slowly backward, nearer and nearer towards the dark shape of the Basilisk.
"What are you doing?!" Christof asked furiously.
Aracidia did not answer, but kept his wand trained on the three students.
"Lumos," he whispered after a moment. As the light flared, they could see that the skin of the Basilisk was a bright, poisonous green. The enormous snake was not moving; it seemed to be asleep.
Aracidia walked past it, his wand never faltering. As they neared the form, they saw that it was not the Basilisk itself, but an unused skin.
Suddenly, as they entered the next, dark tunnel, the light at the end of Aracidia's wand went out.
Aracidia cursed softly for a moment, and tried to relight it, but the darkness remained complete.
"Listen, I'm going to see if I can get past him," Christof whispered in the dark, and slipped away.
A moment later, there was a shout as he knocked into Professor Aracidia. Red sparks shot up-Christof seemed to have gotten his wand, or at least a wand, back-Aracidia shouted a curse-
The tunnel began to shake slightly under their feet. A rumbling sounded, growing closer every moment-
"Run!" It was Christof yelling, up ahead. Ron and Hermione sprinted blindly up the tunnel, only to run headlong into Aracidia. All three went tumbling to the ground, a writhing mass of arms and legs.
The rumbling increased. Large chunks of the tunnel began to fall-a small chip hit Aracidia squarely in the head, and he went limp. Ron and Hermione disentagled themselves from his senseless form and stood up, doing their best to dodge the stones falling around them.
A moment later, the rumbling stopped. Hermione, on her hands and knees, began feeling around for a wand-her hand came in contact with one that had flown out of Aracidia's hand as the stone struck him.
"Lumos!" she shouted. The light blinded her eyes for a moment, but then cast a steady glow around them.
She, Aracidia, and Ron were on one side of a large barrier made up of fallen chunks of stone. A good deal of the tunnel seemed to have caved in around them. Ron, about fifteen feet away from her, crawled over to where Aracidia lay and retrieved his own wand. Christof was nowhere to be seen.
"Christof!" Hermione shouted, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Christof, are you there?!"
"I'm here," came a faint reply from the other side of the wall. "This barrier's pretty big though-are you all okay?"
"Yeah, except Aracidia," Hermione shouted back. "He got knocked out-stone hit him in the head."
"Listen, I'm going on," Christof called. "We can't just leave Ginny in there-,"
"Yeah," Hermione called back. There was a long pause.
"Er-if I don't come back in an hour-,"
Another very expectant pause.
"Yeah," Hermione repeated. "Go. We'll start clearing as much of this as we can away, so you can get back when-when you're done."