I own nothing but the plot, and not even all of that.
Hermione was wakened at midnight to the sounds of yelling in the common room and an ear splitting alarm. This was followed a few minutes later by the news that the castle was once again on lockdown. The prefects performed a bed check when the lockdown was announced. After being accounted for, many of the students congregated in the common room, unable to sleep.
"Miss Granger," called Percy Weasley. She looked over to find the prefect coming up to her. "Have you seen Harry Potter?"
"He went on patrol with Master Kendet," she answered. Percy looked annoyed.
"That's what Ron said as well," he told Hermione. "Neither Harry nor Mr. Kendet informed any of us prefects that he'd be out after curfew," he said, disapprovingly. "I'm going to have to report this to Professor McGonagall."
"I hope he's alright," Hermione said, her brow wrinkling with worry.
"I hope so, too," Percy agreed. "As the ranking prefect in Gryffindor, I'm going to be proposing a rule change. Any authorized violations of curfew must be communicated to the prefects. We should know when one of the students is out after hours."
"An excellent suggestion, Mr. Weasley," said Professor McGonagall from behind them. "Consider it in effect immediately."
"Professor," Percy said, "We did a bed check when the lockdown was announced, and we have one student missing. Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter is in the hospital wing," Professor McGonagall said. She turned to Hermione, who had gone white at this news. 'He'll be fine, Miss Granger," she reassured the girl. "He is uninjured, but was extremely upset that his Jedi teacher has taken ill. He will be sleeping in the hospital wing tonight." Percy took out a parchment and noted this on it, bringing his tally up to date.
"Master Toma is sick?" Hermione exclaimed. "What happened?"
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, noting that the girl seemed much closer to Harry's Jedi teacher than she liked. Minerva McGonagall was not inclined to call anyone 'Master,' even though she understood that in this particular case it had nothing to do with ownership. She relented a little, seeing the look of disappointment on Hermione's face. She would never admit to anyone that she had favorite students, but Hermione Granger topped her list of them. The young girl reminded Minerva of herself at that age, minus a love of quidditch.
"I think I can tell you that Mr. Kendet's condition is serious, but he will recover in time. I have no doubt you will learn the details from Mr. Potter when you see him, but please understand I cannot give you any further information."
"I understand, Professor," Hermione said. She then sat down on a couch and started watching the clock. Professor McGonagall and Percy moved out of the earshot of the other students.
"Is there anything you can tell the prefects, Professor?" Percy asked.
"Please do not inform any of the students what I'm about to tell you," Professor McGonagall instructed. "I want all of the prefects to keep an extra vigilant eye out for anything unusual. Report anything to me, no matter how minor you think it might be. I especially need to know if any students are having or discussing excessive feelings of anxiety or fear. Additionally, the second floor corridor will be off limits again, likely until this situation is resolved."
"That's a very unusual request, Professor," Percy said, frowning.
"This is a very unusual situation, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't want any students going anywhere alone until further notice. Please organize the prefects so that all students are accounted for well before curfew begins. Both of the incidents so far have occurred near or after curfew, and I want no further students put at risk."
"What incidents, professor?" asked Percy.
"There is a creature on the loose in the halls of Hogwarts," McGonagall said. "I wish to start no rumors, but with the evidence that was left behind, I have no doubt rumors will be circulating anyway. We think we know what the creature is, but I have not been authorized to inform anyone as of yet. Nonetheless, please be extra careful, and instruct the rest of the prefects to do the same."
"It will be easier to keep watch if we knew what we were watching for," said Percy, hoping for more information.
"For now," repeated Professor McGonagall, "you are watching for what I just told you to watch for. Make sure the students don't wander, begin taking them places as a group, and watch for any signs of undue fear from them, or yourselves. It appears that those symptoms may indicate that the creature is near."
"What should we do if we encounter this creature, Professor?" asked Percy.
"Run, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, gravely. "Run. Preferably in the direction you came from. Find a professor, and report where you were when the symptoms were noticed."
"I understand, Professor McGonagall," Percy said, and went off to call a prefect meeting.
Headmaster Dumbledore was meeting his professors at an unprecedented two o'clock in the morning to discuss the situation. He once again found himself mediating between Professor Snape and Professor Lockhart.
"Even if this is a basilisk," Professor Snape said, "and I still don't think it is, then we should call in a Gringotts team. They are well trained in dealing with beasts of this nature."
"They will also expect to be well paid for their time and effort," said Professor Lockhart. "I have no direct knowledge of the finances of Hogwarts, but I doubt they're on the same level as a tomb full of treasure. Can Hogwarts afford to pay for a Gringotts hunt team?"
"It most assuredly cannot," Dumbledore answered.
"On the other hand," Professor Lockhart said with a smile, "You have the uncommonly good luck to have an expert on any manner of dangerous creatures on staff already."
"Professor Kettleburn has already stated he is unaware of a creature with these capabilities," Snape countered.
"I was talking about me," said Professor Lockhart with a frown.
"Could the goblins be reasoned with?" asked Professor McGonagall, disregarding Lockhart's offer. "I know they are usually most strict about such things, but surely, for the children…"
"I'm afraid not," answered Professor Flitwick. It was not well known, but he had some goblin blood in him. He had witnessed the charity of the goblins himself as a very young boy, when he was nearly killed by the chief goblin for displaying too many human characteristics. It was only an impassioned plea from his goblin grandmother that had commuted his sentence to a lifetime exile from the Goblin nation. "The Goblins would only tell you that if you truly valued these children, then they would be worth the gold. They'd likely increase their price, actually."
"There you have it, then," Professor Lockhart said. "Additionally, even if the school could afford to pay for a creature hunt from Gringotts, that does not address the human side of this situation."
"What are you talking about?" growled Snape.
"My dear Professor," Lockhart said in his pretentious way, "a basilisk may be able to petrify its victims, and it's venom is most assuredly potent enough to burn holes in walls. Even assuming you are correct and it is some other beast, I have yet to meet any creature who can paint words on walls to leave a message. There is a human element to this." Even Snape had to admit to the obvious conclusion of that, which he did with a wave of his hand. "Someone has opened the Chamber of Secrets," Lockhart argued, "and loosed this creature on the school. That person must be stopped."
The morning saw Harry Potter being questioned by a very tired looking Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.
"Why did you not inform anyone you would be going out on patrol with Toma Kendet?" asked Professor McGonagall.
"I thought he would have told you," answered Harry.
"He did not," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "In light of the circumstances, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you not to go off alone, and certainly not past curfew anymore. You will need to be in a group at all times."
"I'm not even allowed to be alone with Master Toma?" Harry asked. He didn't like that restriction.
"Mr. Kendet will recover," Dumbledore said, "but it will be many months before he regains consciousness."
"Months!" Harry exclaimed.
Dumbledore explained about the Mandrake Restorative Draught, and the lengthy and complicated process of making it.
"It takes a great deal of time for the Mandrakes to mature," explained Dumbledore.
"Couldn't this draught be purchased elsewhere," asked Harry, "or maybe already mature mandrakes? If money is a problem I have plenty in my vault."
"Those are both very good suggestions," Headmaster Dumbledore said, "and a very generous offer. I'm afraid that is not possible, however. Mature mandrakes cannot be transplanted, and the draught is illegal to import. I'm afraid you will have to be patient."
"Why is it illegal to import?" Harry asked, confused.
"It is quite a dangerous substance when used incorrectly," Dumbledore explained. "While I'm sure you could argue that any number of equally dangerous potions and spells are perfectly legal for use and import, it does not change the fact that the law still exists for these plants."
"We'll have to see what the council says," Harry said. "I'm going to have to report this."
"I understand," said Dumbledore, knowing that if the Jedi Master stopped communicating with the Council for months that someone would be sent to investigate. "Do you know what the Council's reaction will be?"
"That depends on so many factors that I don't even want to try and guess," answered Harry. He took out a blue cube that Dumbledore recognized as a Holocube. Placing it on the table in front of him, Harry pressed a button on the top and spoke into it.
"Padawan Harry Potter," he said, "establish secure link to Jedi Council, code four-blue urgent." The holocube began to glow, and a miniature image of a man with fleshy tendrils hanging from the back of his head suddenly appeared on the table, projected by the Holocube. He looked like a tiny ghost.
"Padawan Potter," the ghostly apparition said, "report, please."
"Master," Harry began, "My situation is currently not life threatening, but Master Kendet has been attacked and is currently… unconscious. I am told he will recover, but it will take some months before the only medicine that can help him can be prepared." The Twi'lek Jedi Master did not look surprised or dismayed to hear this.
"Has the attacker of Master Kendet been apprehended?" he asked.
"No, Master," admitted Harry. "We believe it to be an Earth creature, but it has not yet been identified."
"We require independent verification of his condition," he said. "Activate your transponder and await for backup."
"Yes, Master," Harry said.
"Check in daily and keep us informed of Master Kendet's condition. May the Force be with you," the Twi'lek said, and the hologram disappeared. Harry removed a small, silver rod from his Mokeskin pouch and twisted it. The upper half rotated until a light on one end began to blink, alternating between blue and white.
"What is that?" asked Professor McGonagall.
"It's my emergency transponder beacon," Harry said. "It will enable whomever the council sends to find me."
"And how long until this… 'back up' arrives?" McGonagall asked.
"It depends on who they send," answered Harry, "and if their already in system. It probably won't be long."
"How does this 'transponder' work," asked Professor Dumbledore, looking it over.
"It sends a signal that is detectable by anyone who knows the frequency to listen for it," Harry explained. "The position of the transponder then appears on their map, allowing them to find it."
"But the castle is unplottable," Professor McGonagall protested.
"Unplottable?" Harry asked.
"There are enchantments," McGonagall explained, "that can make an area unplottable, so that it does not, and cannot, appear on any map."
"Then those enchantments either don't work on Republic tech," Harry told her, "or they simply don't work at all. We found this castle before I came here last year, and I saw its location on a topographical map we studied on the journey to Earth. Show me a map of this part of the Earth and I can point to where we are right now." McGonagall looked shocked and distressed.
"We will have to discuss this at a more convenient time," Dumbledore said. "The backup that Mr. Potter has summoned is something Mr. Kendet and I have already discussed. If it is what I was informed of, they will be here in less than an hour." Dumbledore have Harry a look of mild disappointment. "I do wish, however, that I were asked before you activated that device."
"I'm sorry, Headmaster," Harry apologized. "I received an order from the Jedi Council. As long as I am a Jedi, I must obey the Council."
"Well, what's done is done," said Dumbledore with a sigh. "We should go and prepare for additional guests," he said to Professor McGonagall. "Quite a few of them, in fact."
"Mobilize! Mobilize! Mobilize!" Sarge yelled into his commlink. He put his helmet on over his head and watched as its display booted up.
"What's the story, Sarge?" A voice sounded in his ear. It was one of his troopers, a heavily muscled man nicknamed Shooter by the rest of Blue Team. Blue Team was part of Green Squad. The Squad was a Rapid Response Assault Team, usually just called a RAT Team. They had been on standby on a dinky little grey moon for three months, and the call to action was welcomed.
"General Kendet has been incapacitated," Sarge said, knowing his entire team of five troopers was listening. "We are to secure the site, render what medical aid we can, and follow any additional orders from Commander Potter, who is stationed on site."
"We're answering to a kid?" asked Blaze. He was the demolitions expert on his team. It was the custom in Green Squad to not use your real name. The team you were assigned to typically gave you a nickname within minutes, and you were then known by it for life. It really only got confusing with the Sergeants. There were two of them, and they both had the nickname 'Sarge.' All confusion ended once combat started. Then they only referred to themselves by their numbers. Sarge became Blue Lead. The other Sarge became Red Lead. Each of their troopers had an assigned number. Blaze, for example, was Blue-3.
"It's a Jedi kid," Sarge corrected.
"Alright, then," answered Blaze. They had all met General Kendet and Commander Potter when the two Jedi escorted the RAT team into the system three months ago.
The team was assembled in minutes, and reported their status to the Commander. Within moments, Sarge's display overlay changed, the icon indicating his team turned from amber to green, showing that they were now listed as ready to drop.
Green Squad was composed of a Commander, two pilots, two medics, three combat engineers, and two teams of five troopers, each led by a sergeant. Twenty soldiers, all crammed into a troop transport and left with nothing to do but read tech manuals on an uninhabited moon.
The design of the BT-7 Thunderclap transport was guaranteed to accommodate that number for an indefinite period of time. Sarge was willing to bet that whomever had written those specs had never tried it.
His display showed that his was the first team reporting ready, much to his satisfaction. As he smiled about that, Red Team reported in, their icon changing to green shortly after Blue Team's. The commissioned officers all indicated ready less than a minute later, and every soldier was ready to drop.
The two pilots were already in the cockpit, ramping up the engines. While they were officially part of Green Squad, they generally saw no real action, aside from a hot drop or pickup in a combat zone. They were given the nicknames Wings and Blondie. The troopers tended to not be very creative in their selection of nicknames.
Blondie was one of three women in Green Squad, and had, unsurprisingly, blond hair. Another woman was Doc, one of the combat medics. She was really nice, and a treat to look at, but she wouldn't put up with any shenanigans from the troopers. She wouldn't put up with anyone keeping her from concentrating on a patient, either. Sarge had even seen her go head to head with the Commander and get away with it, mostly because she was trying to keep his troopers alive. Finally, there was Ice, a weapons specialist trooper in Red Team. She had short cropped white hair, and a hostile attitude. Sarge used to be jealous of Red Sarge, as he thought of the other man, for being assigned Ice. Then he found out why she was called that. There wasn't enough warmth in that woman to melt ice. Fraternization between the troops was strictly forbidden in any case. Anyone caught fooling around was out of Green Squad. No warnings, no second chances. No trooper would risk that. Green Squad was elite. It was a privilege to be allowed to serve in it.
As soon as all the status lights were all green, Wings announced liftoff, and the transport shot up from the surface to begin a powered ascent from Earth's moon. It would normally take a few hours to make a journey of this distance, but an emergency mobilization called for a full military power drop run. It was a little hard on the engines and the airframe, but that's what engineers were for. It was also a little hard on the Troopers. Sarge made the mistake of commenting on this shortly after he was promoted to take over Blue Team, and in response he was asked if his team was out of first aid kits.
Thirty eight minutes after launching, the BT-7 was descending over Commander Potter's transponder beacon in a roar of sound. Some fighter jets from one of Earth's militaries had tried to catch them, as their entry into Earth's atmosphere had been anything but subtle. Much to the everlasting fortune of the pilots of the little aircraft, they swiftly lost contact with the transport. The BT-7 transport was used by Rat Teams for good reason.
A large, fortified castle was their obvious destination. The transport touched down on the grass in front of the castle. As it's landing gear made contact, the restraints keeping the troopers from bouncing all over the cabin released. The ship opened itself, both side walls lifting to allow the troopers to spill out to either side. In ten seconds, all eighteen soldiers were on the ground. The moment the Commander called "Clear!" Over the comms, the transport detached a storage unit from its underside and lifted again. It would wait a short distance away, ready to provide air support or a pickup if called for.
Commander Trip Dameron was a tall, thin man with a head full of thick, black hair under his combat helmet. He had served in several of the civil wars the Republic kept getting itself into. You couldn't jam a quarter million systems together and not get civil wars. There was always a job for Troopers. Trip was a pilot, and had served as the lead flyer for Green Squad until his predecessor got hit with a blaster during the last combat action Green Squad had seen. He had been promoted to replace him, and ended up relinquishing his nickname of Wings to the new pilot. There was almost always a Wings as a pilot of Green Squad. It was tradition.
Now he was Commander Trip Dameron, having earned his real name back with his command. He was looking forward to testing his abilities in action. As soon as his squad was deployed from the transport, he ordered them to set up a perimeter. Trip saw a group of people walking towards him, noting that Commander Potter was not among them. He indicated to his squad to stay alert and let the group of locals approach the squad.
Harry Potter watched the transport land. He joined the group of professors who were heading out to greet the new arrivals.
"Where do you think you're going, Potter?" asked Snape in his silky smooth voice.
"You're going to need me with you, Professor," Harry said. "I recognize that transport. Master Toma and I escorted it on our way to Earth. With Master Toma not available, those Troopers are under my command until a higher ranking Jedi arrives. They'll only take orders from me unless I direct them otherwise."
"They will do as they are told, Mr. Potter," Snape said, "and so will you, if are to remain here at Hogwarts." His voice had lost all of the false civility he had acquired in the past year, and he made no attempt to hide his impatience.
Dumbledore, not wanting to encourage Snape's hostility, nonetheless agreed with him.
"We can handle this, Mr. Potter," he said. "Please remain in the castle." With that, Headmaster Dumbledore strode over the lawn to the soldiers in white armor that had just leapt out of the strange vessel. Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Lockhart joined him.
"Are you sure we shouldn't bring Mr. Potter with us?" asked Professor Lockhart. "He did say he could give orders to them."
"I do not take orders from students," answered Professor Snape, "and I will not abide Potter having a private army at Hogwarts. Their presence here is entirely inappropriate."
"Now Severus," Dumbledore said, placatingly, "I'm sure there is a compromise to be found." Snape rolled his eyes.
As Headmaster Dumbledore and his professors walked up to the Commander, who was clearly identified with an orange decoration on his left shoulder, the troopers allowed them to enter the formation. They closed around the party, careful to keep their lines of sight clear.
"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Dumbledore greeted.
"Where is Commander Potter?" Commander Dameron asked. His voice was filtered, sounding like he was talking in a bucket. In fact, he was speaking into a microphone. Under normal circumstances, a translator program would process his words into whatever local language was appropriate as he spoke it. It was a fantastic bit of tech that was being wasted on this mission. All of the Troopers in Green Squad had learned English through an RNA transfer course several weeks before they departed. They hated the sickness that went with it, but it provided a much greater depth of understanding than a translator could ever give.
"Mr. Potter is here," answered Dumbledore. "May I ask whom you are?"
"Take us to him," the soldier ordered. His white shell armor was quite impressive. It covered him from head to toe, but still provided him with full movement. It also completely obscured his face. The idea was to intimidate by removing any sign of emotion or sympathy.
"You cannot give orders to us…" Professor Snape started to say advancing on Commander Dameron as he spoke. He made the mistake of approaching Commander Dameron a little too aggressively, though. Snape's voice cut off and he froze as twelve black, heavy duty blaster rifles were raised and pointed at his head. The troopers didn't fire, but it was clear they would not allow their commander to be threatened.
"Come now, gentlemen," said Professor Lockhart to the Troopers, in a calm, yet firm voice. He had both his hands visible, but did not have them fully raised. His posture was one of confidence, but not aggression. "Surely you must understand that we cannot just take you to a student without knowing who you are or why you are here, don't you?" he asked. "That would hardly be sensible."
The lead trooper raised his hand up in a fist, and all of the troopers lowered their weapons. "We are Green Squad, of the Republic Troopers," the lead soldier said. "I am Commander Trip Dameron. The Jedi Council sent us to examine General Kendet, provide what aid we can, and obey the orders of Commander Potter. We require that you take us to him now." The statement was made in a way that was far more acceptable then his previous order, but the underlying threat was clearly present. Commander Dameron would brook no further delays.
"Very well," agreed Dumbledore. "But I must ask that you keep your weapons lowered whilst you are on these premises," he added. "This is a school, and as Professor Lockhart has said, there are students here. Understand that I will allow no threat to them. Raise your weapons to one of my students, and we will have a reckoning."
"It will be as you say," Commander Dameron said. Dumbledore did not care to guess what part of what he had said that Commander Dameron was referring to, his order to not raise their weapons, or the reckoning.
The Troopers parted to allow the professors to pass, then fell into a loose formation behind them.
Professor Snape was livid. He tried to keep his face neutral, but his insides writhed with fury. He had been shown up on several occasions now by that insufferable Gilderoy Lockhart. Now, the Defense Professor had talked down a dozen armed soldiers when Snape had provoked them into almost attacking. Of course, the end result was that Potter would get to keep his little army! The man was a fraud, he had to be! Snape had not read all of Lockhart's books, but who could? The man was as prolific with words on paper as he was using his mouth. Snape kept his face as still as stone as walked back to the school. He would find a way to show the entire school that the man was a fraud, he thought to himself.
The professors led the Troopers into the entrance hall of the school, hurrying along any students who were heading into the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry Potter was standing in the entrance hall with Hermione and Neville. The two had joined him while the Professors had been talking with the Troopers. As they gained sight of him, the squad immediately abandoned their escort and stood before Harry at attention.
"Commander Potter," Trip said, raising his fist to his chest and saluting. "Green Squad reports as ordered, we are at your command."
"Thank you, Commander," Harry said, returning the salute. "General Kendet and I were attacked last night by an unknown creature." He went over the details as he knew them.
"Our orders are to give what medical aid to General Kendet that we can," said Trip, "secure this site, and follow your command."
"General Kendet is in the hospital wing," Harry said. "For now, please follow any orders you are given by Headmaster Dumbledore, unless they violate your prime directives. If he gives any order that does, please defer to me."
"Yes, sir," Trip confirmed. He turned to Dumbledore. "Please have one of our medics escorted to General Kendet," he said. "While they are examining him, I'd like to take a look at the scene of the attack, with your permission, sir."
"Of course," the headmaster said. "The hospital wing is this way." Dumbledore turned to Harry. "There's no reason for you to skip breakfast, Mr. Potter. Professor Snape and I will take the medic to the hospital wing, and Professors Lockhart and McGonagall can show the commander to the second floor corridor."
"Blue Team," Trip ordered, "You're on protection detail. Stick with Commander Potter. Doc, check out General Kendet. Everyone else, you're with me."
The six Troopers of Blue Team moved into a formation near Harry. A short, pretty woman carrying bags of medical gear walked up to Dumbledore. She wasn't wearing the bulky armor of a trooper, but was armed with a small blaster pistol. The rest of the squad moved with Commander Dameron and followed after McGonagall and Lockhart.
"What should I call you, my dear," Dumbledore asked Doc as they walked to the hospital wing. He indicated to Professor Snape that he should help carry some of her bags. Snape took them, knowing better than to protest.
"Thank you," Doc said to Professor Snape. "Just Doc is fine," she answered Dumbledore. "We don't generally go by our real names an awful lot. The Commander is an exemption to that rule."
"I feel I must insist," Dumbledore said. "I don't believe I will feel very comfortable with 'Doc.'"
"If you insist, you can call me Doctor Silva," she said. "Just don't be surprised if none of the Troopers do."
"Very well, Doctor Silva," Dumbledore said. "Here we are." They walked into the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey immediately took offense at Doc's presence.
"I'm sorry," the medi-witch said, "But I must insist on restricting visitation to family only."
"How about his primary care physician?" Doc asked. "Surely you would allow a qualified healer to examine her own patient?"
Madam Pomfrey was taken aback by Doctor Silva. She usually ruled this ward with an uncompromising will, but Dumbledore was looking at her with that face he made when he wanted her to go along with something she didn't want to. All twinkling eyes and a small smile as he pretended to be in charge of people she was sure he wasn't in charge of.
"Very well," Madam Pomfrey relented. "There's nothing anyone can do for him until the Mandrake's are ready," she said, "but have it your way. He's over here."
Doctor Silva was disconcerted to see General Kendet with his lightsaber in his hands. He was not lying in bed like a patient. Instead, it looked like someone had taken a mannequin, positioned it in an action pose, and thrown it on the bed. Doc took a scanner out of her bag and started moving it up and down the General's body. She was reading the results on a portable screen she had placed on the bed. It projected numbers and strange symbols above his body, telling Doc about the function, or lack thereof, of whichever bodily system she wanted to check.
"There's nothing here," she said, puzzled. "No heart rate, no blood pressure, nothing. But all my instruments insist he's still alive!"
"Well," exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, "of course he's still alive! He's been petrified, not killed."
"It's not the same thing as carbonite hibernation," Doc said, taking no note whatsoever of Madam Pomfrey's excitability. "That method still leaves a tiny fraction of the metabolism running. This is a perfect hibernation."
"Carbonite?" Madam Pomfrey asked, looking towards Dumbledore and Snape, both of whom looked equally mystified.
The Commander, the engineers, the other medic, and Red Team were looking over the spot where Toma was found. Fixer, the lead engineer, was looking over the message that was etched into the wall by the acid blood substance. Rev, the medic, was running a scanner through the air to try and detect the source of the feelings of anxiety that was keeping the troopers on edge.
"It would seem that this feeling of fear is the only warning that the basilisk is coming," Professor McGonagall said, "and it lingers for some time after it is no longer in the area."
"That's a strictly defensive weapon," Commander Dameron said.
"I beg your pardon?" McGonagall asked.
"If it were an offensive weapon," explained Trip, "the creature wouldn't turn it on till it wanted to paralyze a victim. Since it apparently turns it on well in advance of its arrival, it's likely hoping to scare anyone away so it doesn't even have to fight. You said both incidents happened in the this corridor?"
"Yes," confirmed McGonagall. "Clearly the entrance to the Chamber must be somewhere in this hallway," she said, not wanting the troopers to think she couldn't deduce anything on her own.
"Professor McGonagall, please tell me everything you know about basilisks," the Commander requested.
Harry had finished telling Hermione all about the patrol, including what had happened, the waves of terror, Dobby's reappearance, his being whisked away to the Gryffindor Common Room, his subsequent dash back to his Master, and what he found there.
"If only Dobby hadn't apparated me away!" he said. He was constantly having to take breaths to control his anger. That was the path to the Dark Side.
"But you cannot apparate or disapparate on Hogwarts grounds!" Hermione protested. "There are wards against that very thing."
"They keep telling me that things we've already seen happen are not possible," he said with a small smile. "Toma and I have already viewed Hogwarts on a map, too, and that's supposed to be impossible."
"Hmm…" Hermione mumbled in reply. She was lost in thought as she tried to figure out the loophole in the magic. Eventually, she had to give up. It was either believe Harry, or believe Hogwarts: A History. The book didn't stand a chance against that comparison.
A few days later, there was very little that had changed. Toma was still petrified, and Doc was unable to determine how it was done, or any method to reverse it. She continued to monitor his progress, or lack thereof, but there was very little she could do for him.
Blue team had broken into two teams of three Troopers each. One team would be 'on' from sunup to sundown, and the other would take over at dusk. They were as discrete as they could be, letting Harry have his space while still being on hand to provide assistance if required. They still generated a lot of attention from the student body.
Harry, Hermione, and Neville visited Toma daily. There was no change in his condition. Madam Pomfrey had agreed that Doc and Rev could assist her in the Hospital Wing as long as they deferred to her for any treatments they dispensed. Since the Hogwarts medi-witch had no faith whatsoever in the medical devices the medics had brought, that really just meant providing basic first aid until Madam Pomfrey could get to the student. Doc was quite interested in magical medicine, and watched carefully everything Madam Pomfrey did, and performed what scans she could.
Harry had reported to the Jedi Council again, and they had negotiated with Dumbledore to house the Troopers until Master Kendet regained consciousness. The alternative was for Green Squad to take Harry back to Coruscant with them. With Green Squad staying, the Jedi Council decided to not send additional Jedi backup, as long as Harry stayed in touch by Holocube. Some concern was voiced that this would effectively halt his Jedi training for several months, but Master Yoda felt that having Harry experience his first command of troops was a valuable lesson.
Commander Dameron, the engineers, and Red Team bivouacked themselves in an empty classroom off of the closed off corridor. If there were any further incidents, he wanted to be close at hand. With Dumbledore's permission, Wings and Blondie parked the transport in an out of the way courtyard. This provided good access to the transport for the Troopers who were off duty, which went a long way to keeping Dumbledore happier with the situation.
Dumbledore was not happy with the situation. He felt he was backed into a corner, with the Jedi Council threatening to remove Harry Potter if he didn't accommodate their every whim. So far, the Troopers had accomplished nothing, and there was only so long Dumbledore would tolerate their presence.
Professor Snape was absolutely livid. He refused to allow the Troopers in his classroom, and was successful in convincing Dumbledore to ban them from any classes. He argued that the Troopers would be a distraction. The Troopers agreed to wait in the hall while Harry was in class, which Dumbledore had suggested as one of those perfect compromises in which no one gets what they want and everyone is unhappy with the result.
The writing on the wall that had been etched into the stone had, of course, leaked to the student body, as Professor McGonagall knew it would. There was a rush on the library as students tried to look up anything they could find on The Chamber of Secrets. It wasn't much.
The days got colder, and time marched into December with little change. The castle was decorated for the upcoming Christmas celebrations. One day, there was a flurry of excitement as notices appeared on the bulletin boards in every common room inviting the students to join the dueling club.
"Can you all see me?" Lockhart called out as he took the center stage. "Can you all hear me?" He gazed around at the assembled students. "Excellent!" he beamed. The stage was in the Great Hall. The house tables had been pushed against the wall to make room.
"Now," he addressed the club, "in light of recent events, Headmaster Dumbledore has granted me permission to start up this little dueling club to train you all up, in case you ever have to defend yourselves as I have on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works."
Lockhart gestured to the side of the stage. "Allow me to introduce you to my assistant, your very own Professor Severus Snape!"
Snape walked onto the stage, his black robes swirling around him.
"He tells me," Lockhart continued," that he knows the tiniest little bit about dueling and has graciously agreed to help me demonstrate some dueling techniques." Lockhart saw the look of alarm that suddenly flashed through the crowd. "Do not fear!" he reassured the club, "you will still have your potions master when I am finished with him."
"Uh oh!" Dean Thomas whispered in horror. "Look at Snape!" Severus Snape, never friendly looking, was now staring at Lockhart with murderous hatred. His black, beady eyes seemed to bore holes in the defense professors blue cape, which Lockhart had removed and was tossing to some admirers to hold for him.
Fred and George Weasley began to quietly move through the crowd, taking bets on how long it would take Snape to utterly defeat Lockhart. The numbers indicated that no one thought it would take him very long. Harry knew that if Snape ever looked at him like that, he would seriously consider taking his friends and running for the Republic. Hermione would make a great Jedi Librarian, after all, and surely there was a place for Neville.
Lockhart simply returned Snape's glare with a smile.
"First," Lockhart instructed, "we acknowledge our opponent with a respectful bow." He gave Snape an elaborate bow. Snape pivoted his head on his neck a fraction of an inch and back and continued to glare at Lockhart.
"Then," Lockhart continued, "we raise our wands in the accepted combative position." Lockhart and Snape both extended their wands, pointing them at each other. "We won't be aiming to kill, of course," Lockhart reassured the students.
"We're not taking any money on that bet," Fred Weasley whispered to the fourth year Ravenclaw whose wager he was currently registering. "It wouldn't be fair."
"Then," Lockhart finished, "on the count of three, we cast. One, two, three!"
Faster than a snake striking, Snape was in motion. He twirled his wand around and cried "Expelliarmus!" A golden light erupted from his wand, leaving a shockwave in its wake. It sped towards Lockhart.
"Protego!" Lockhart shouted, and a golden shield appeared in front of the defense professor, absorbing Snape's spell.
"Stupify!" Snape snarled, staying on the offensive. Lockhart dove into a forward roll, allowing the red stunner to flash above him to splash harmlessly against the wall.
"Oppugno!" Lockhart called out, pointing his wand at a suit of armor behind Snape. It moved forward on its own and wrapped its arms around the potions master, preventing Snape from retaliating! As Snape struggled with the armor, Lockhart pointed his wand at a Christmas tree that decorated one corner of the room. "Oppugno!" he yelled again, then ducked as Snape released a blasting charm on the suit of armor.
Twisted and smoking pieces of metal flew by Lockhart and into the crowd. With a quick wave of his wand, Lockhart transfigured the shrapnel pieces into flowers, protecting the students from being inadvertently injured.
"Careful, Severus," he called out to Snape, who had responded to the Christmas tree, which was firing glass ornaments at him, by setting it on fire. "We mustn't get carried away, now!" With a quick "Aquamenti," the tree was doused.
But the distraction had cost the defense professor. With a growled "Langlock!", Snape had rendered Lockhart speechless. Gilderoy had to move quickly to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth as he dodged and ducked an onslaught of offensive spells from Snape.
The eyes of the students were wide as they witnessed both professors doing graceful twirls, sidesteps, and on occasion even a twisting forward flip as they each tried to get the better of the other while dodging and blocking the incoming fire. Anyone who had previously imagined that a wizard's duel was a calm, organized back and forth exchange of spells had their eyes well and truly opened by the display.
Having undone Snape's tongue sticking jinx, Lockhart was back in the game. For several minutes there was a constant stream of spell casting, weaving, blocking and dodging. Finally, the defense professor connected with a unbuckling charm on Snape's boots. The loosening of his footwear was just enough to catch Snape off balance, and allowed Lockhart to hit him with the spell that started the duel, a disarming charm. Snape gasped in disbelief as his wand flew out of his hand, and was defenseless against the incarcerating ropes that soon followed. The duel was over, and Lockhart had won.
A/N - I stole the idea of learning a language through an RNA transfer course from the Star Trek novel Spock's World, by Diane Duane.