Chapter 14: Chamber of Secrets
The next day, John sat at the Gryffindor table in the dining hall and told both Ron and Harry about his conversation with Aragog. However, he elected to keep the bit concerning the prophecy to himself. Harry then told John about his venture into the library and just like the previous year, he hit a dead in. At that point Ron decided to speak after angrily plopping pancakes and sausages onto his plate.
"All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away," said Ron bitterly at breakfast, "and we could've asked her, and now…"
If Ron and Harry had gone into the forest with John, it would've been hard trying to look for spiders and of course surviving them. Escaping their teachers long enough to sneak into a girls' bathroom, the girls' bathroom, moreover, right next to the scene of the first attack, was going to be almost impossible.
But something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration, that drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into the class, Professor McGonagall told them that their exams would start on the first of June, one week from today.
"Exams?" howled Seamus Finnigan. "We're still getting exams?"
"What did you expect?" John asked dryly, "This is still a school, and it doesn't matter if there are attacks or not. Education is much more important… while there's a space between attacks of course. At least to the teachers."
There was a loud bang behind Harry as Neville Longbottom's wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on his desk. Professor McGonagall restored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning, to Seamus.
"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard."
She then turned to John and regarded him.
"You really are a smart young man," Professor McGonagall commented, "it's as if you're a teacher yourself. However, your intelligence won't earn you and special favors from me."
"What about getting out of doing Lockhart's exam?" John asked hopefully.
"Ah…" Minerva said with a frown.
"Lockhart," Minerva practically spat.
"Unfortunately," Minerva said genuinely sympathetic, "I can't get you out of the egotist's exam. I'm sure Dumbledore would have granted your request, but I'm not dumbledore. No matter the teacher, all of the exam's are important."
"All he'll ask is what people learned about him," John deadpanned. Several of the boys voiced their agreement.
"No doubt," minerva agreed.
"Now, back to Transfiguration class," Minerva said sternly to bring them back to the topic at hand, "I suggest you all study hard for next week. That goes for all of your classes too… no matter how useless they might be at this time."
Studying hard! It had never occurred to Harry that there would be exams with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.
"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible, she said. "And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."
Harry looked down at the pair of white rabbits he was supposed to be turning into slippers. What had he learned so far this year? He couldn't seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam.
"Professor…" John said as he looked at his rabbits as well.
"Yes, John?" Minerva said as she turned to look at him.
"I still don't have a functional wand…" John said sourly, "all thanks to Lockhart's dwarvish valentine celebration. How exactly am I going to do the exams?"
"Yeah!" Ron put in, "Same here!"
"Oh dear…" McGonagall sighed, "I suppose I'll talk to the other teachers about that for the two of you at least. Broken wands will indeed hamper your learning progress."
Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.
"I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.
"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.
"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.
"Quidditch matches are back on!" roared Wood excitedly.
When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."
There was an explosion of cheering. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and wasn't at all surprised to see that Draco Malfoy hadn't joined in. Ron, however, was looking happier than he'd looked in days.
"It won't matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!" he said to Harry. "Hermione'll probably have all the answers when they wake her up! Mind you, she'll go crazy when she finds out we've got exams in three days' time. She hasn't studied. It might be kinder to leave her where she is till they're over."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Prue said from across the table, "Things like these… usually end up sneaking up on you. You'll end up asking that ghost anyway."
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked nervously.
"You're wanting to ask how she died," Prue said bluntly, "and what she knows about the Chamber… unless you've already asked the latter."
"John told you…" Harry realized.
"Actually no," Prue shook her head, "Phoebe told me. John told Anne who then told her."
Just then, Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap.
"What's up?" said Ron, helping himself to more porridge.
Ginny didn't say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry of someone, though he couldn't think who.
"Spit it out," said Ron, watching her.
Harry suddenly realized who Ginny looked like. She was rocking backward and forward slightly in her chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information.
"I've got to tell you something," Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry.
"What is it?" asked Harry.
Ginny looked as though she couldn't find the right words.
"What?" asked Ron.
Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Harry leaned forward and spoke quietly, so that only Ginny and Ron could hear him.
"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"
Ginny drew a deep breath and, at that precise moment, Percy Weasley appeared, looking tired and wan.
"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving, I've only just come off patrol duty."
Ginny jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified, gave Percy a fleeting, frightened look, and scampered away. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.
"Percy!" said Ron angrily. "She was just about to tell us something important!"
Halfway through a gulp of tea, Percy choked.
"What sort of thing?" he said, coughing.
"I just asked her if she'd seen anything odd, and she started to say…"
"Oh… that… that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets," said Percy at once.
"How do you know?" said Ron, his eyebrows raised.
"Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was… well, never mind… the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather-"
Harry had never seen Percy look so uncomfortable.
"What were you doing, Percy?" said Ron, grinning. "Go on, tell us, we won't laugh."
Percy didn't smile back.
"Pass me those rolls, Harry, I'm starving."
Harry knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but he wasn't about to pass up a chance to speak to Myrtle if it turned up… and to his delight it did, midmorning, when they were being led to History of Magic by Gilderoy Lockhart.
Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.
"Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be 'It was Hagrid.' Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."
"I agree, sir," said Harry, making Ron drop his books in surprise.
"Thank you, Harry," said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…"
"That's right," said Ron, catching on. "Why don't you leave us here, sir, we've only got one more corridor to go-"
"You know, Weasley, I think I will," said Lockhart. "I really should go and prepare my next class-"
And he hurried off.
"Prepare his class," Ron sneered after him. "Gone to curl his hair, more like."
They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. But just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme.
"Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?"
It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines.
"We were - we were-" Ron stammered. "We were going to - to go and see-"
"Hermione," said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him.
"We haven't seen her for ages, Professor," Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron's foot, "and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry-"
Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.
"Of course," she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. "Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been… I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."
Harry and Ron walked away, hardly daring to believe that they'd avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Professor McGonagall blow her nose.
"That," said Ron fervently, "was the best story you've ever come up with."
They had no choice now but to go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that they had Professor McGonagall's permission to visit Hermione.
Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly.
"There's just no point talking to a Petrified. person," she said, and they had to admit she had a point when they'd taken their seats next to Hermione. It was plain that Hermione didn't have the faintest inkling that she had visitors, and that they might just as well tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.
"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione's rigid face. "Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know…"
But Harry wasn't looking at Hermione's face. He was more interested in her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, he saw that a piece of paper was scrunched inside her fist.
Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near, he pointed this out to Ron.
"Go on and get it out," Ron whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked Harry from Madam Pomfrey's view.
However, before Harry could they could hear the sounds of footsteps getting closer.
"I'll allow you visitation with the Granger girl and the Ravenclaw boy," said the voice of Madam Pomfrey, "but don't expect this means I'll let you use your so called "muggle-magic" to try and reverse the petrification."
Harry and Ron turned to look behind them and saw that John was walking forward with his hands in his pockets alongside Madam Pomfrey who had an irritated expression.
"Don't take all day boys. You still have classes to take," Madam Pomfrey said before she turned and walked off.
Harry immediately turned towards Hermione again so he could remove the paper from her hand. It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Harry was sure he was going to tear it. While Ron kept watch he tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.
It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and Ron leaned close to read it, too. Unfortunately, it was in some text that neither of them could understand.
"Uh…" Harry said as he turned to look at John who was staring angrily at the petrified form of Ritche.
"What?" John asked a little bit ruder than he intended.
"We found this paper in Hermione's hand," Harry said as he held it up, "unfortunately we can't read it."
John took the paper from Harry and looked over it.
"Its written in old gaelic," John deduced as he looked back over them, "and fortunately for you, I can read the language."
"You can?!" Ron asked in awe.
"Aye," John nodded his head as he looked at the paper again, "and it looks like Hermione can as well. Makes sense as she loves to read and study."
"What does it say?" Harry asked.
John cleared his throat for a second and straightened the paper as much as possible.
"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land," John read, "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 many hundreds of 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."
And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand Harry recognized as Hermione's. Pipes.
"Ah fuck," John grunted in annoyance, "I already read this before! How is it I always forget the most important stuff when dealing with mysteries like the ones we face?!"
However Harry wasn't listening as he was thinking about something else. It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in his brain.
"Ron," he breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber's a basilisk - a giant serpent! That's why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue…"
"That may explain you mate," John frowned, "but how come I could understand the slithering beast?"
"That's a good question," Harry frowned as well, "Maybe you're the actual heir of Slytherin?"
That earned Harry one of John's infamous glare and snarl combos, which unnerved the Potter boy immensely.
"Take that back!" John hissed angrily.
"Okay okay!" Harry said placatingly, "It was just a possibility! I didn't actually believe it!"
Satisfied with Harry's response, John calmed down. That was when he remembered the prophecy. Or rather, some of it.
"Both shall speak the same," John muttered to himself, "a king of dragons and a lord of serpents…"
"What are you saying?" Harry asked as he wasn't sure what John muttered.
"Nothing," John shook his head.
Harry looked up at the beds around him before he brought them back to the topic at hand.
"The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died… because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin… Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again… and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And Ritchie might've seen it in one of the mirrors on the walls around the school's - and-"
Rons jaw had dropped.
"And Mrs. Norris?" he whispered eagerly.
Harry thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Halloween.
"The water…" he said slowly, "The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection…"
He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.
"… The crowing of the rooster… is fatal to it"! he read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! Spiders flee before it. It all fits!"
"But how's the basilisk been getting around the place?" said Ron. "A giant snake… Someone would've seen…"
"Hermione figured that out for us," John said as he handed them the paper, "pipes."
"That means its been using the plumbing," Harry said thoughtfully, "I've been hearing that voice inside the walls…"
Ron suddenly grabbed Harry's arm.
"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" he said hoarsely. "What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in-"
"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," said Harry.
They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it.
"This means," said Harry, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk."
"How closely related do you think Basilisks are to dragons?" John asked eventually.
"I think Charlie's the best person to ask," Ron shrugged. John merely nodded his agreement.
"Why'd you ask that?" Ron asked curious.
"I think Dumbledore may have been right," John muttered to himself, "I might actually be the last Heir of Godric Gryffindor."
Unknown to John, Ron heard that and widened his eyes. He dropped a jaw but shook his head so he could focus on the crisis at hand.
"What're we going to do?" said Ron, whose eyes were flashing. "Should we go straight to McGonagall?"
"Let's go to the staff room," said Harry, jumping up. "She'll be there in ten minutes. It's nearly break."
They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down.
But the bell to signal break never came.
Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified.
"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please. John Constantine… I'd like you to meet us as well."
Harry wheeled around to stare at Ron. "Not another attack? Not now?"
"What'll we do?" said Ron, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"
"No," said Harry, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers' cloaks. "In here. Let's hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found out."
Harry and Ron hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staff room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.
"It has happened," she told the silent staff room. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."
Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"
"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.' "
Professor Flitwick burst into tears.
"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"
"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall.
Harry felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him.
"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," said Professor McGonagall. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…"
The staffroom door banged open again. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming.
"So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?"
He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers and John were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Snape stepped forward.
"Just the man," he said. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."
Lockhart blanched.
"That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"
"I - well, I -"sputtered Lockhart.
"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Professor Flitwick.
"D-did I? I don't recall -"
"I know what it is," John spoke up finally. At that everyone looked at him, because they actually believed it was possible. Well, Lockhart was less than pleased, because he was being one-upped by a kid.
"Then what is it?" Professor McGonagall asked kindly and urgently.
"It's a Basilisk," John revealed.
"A Basilisk…" murmured the teachers except for Professor Binns who was the skeptic of the bunch.
"Preposterous," said the ghostly teacher, "Those creatures aren't real! They're as mythical as the Greek Gods."
"You also thought the Chamber of Secrets was a myth," John deadpanned.
"I'll admit I may have been wrong about that," Binns said irked, "but this whole ordeal may have just been at the hands of a lunatic roaming these walls."
"What proof do you have about your claim?" Snape asked with a neither kind nor mean tone.
"This," John said as he produced the paper, "It was in Hermione's hand."
Professor McGonagall took the paper and looked at it, but was confused.
"I don't…" Professor McGonagall trailed off.
"It's old gaelic," John explained, "and it talks about several things. Have you seen the spiders that have been scurrying away from the castle in a herd?"
The teachers all nodded except for Binns who spends most of his time in his classroom.
"The parchment says that spiders flee from it," John said, "and apparently the rooster call is deadly to the Basilisk, and that's why Hagrid's roosters were killed."
"Okay," snape said slowly, "I'm beginning to believe you're right, but how did the beast attack?"
"It kills by staring its victims in the eyes," John said, "and before you start being skeptical again, none of the victims stared directly into it. Hermione and Ritchie used mirrors, Justin stared through Nearly Headless Nick. Nick got the full brunt of the attack, but he's a ghost already so he can't die. Mrs. Norris looked into the puddle of water that was outside of Moaning Myrtle's water closet. That Creevey kid? He had a camera and loved to take picture of things."
"I'm sold," Flitwick said with pride for one of his house's students.
"As am I," agreed the rest of the teachers. Even Binns who was reluctant, but couldn't ignore that the evidence was in favor of a gigantic snake. Lockhart was the only one who didn't speak as he had been glaring at John for a while now. Lockhart didn't even notice as Professor McGonagall turned to look at him.
"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," said Professor McGonagall. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."
Lockhart was shocked out of his anger when he heard that and gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.
"V-very well," he said. "I'll - I'll be in my office, getting - getting ready."
And he left the room.
"Right," said Professor McGonagall, whose nostrils were flared, "that's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."
"You didn't actually offer-" began John.
"Of course not," Minerva said, "he's as useless as a doorknob on a wall. Dumb as one as well."
"So what's your plan in taking out the Basilisk?" John asked.
"Send in the ministry of course," Minerva said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"They have never been able to find the Chamber," John said with a raised eyebrow, "so what makes you think they'll do it this time much less be victorious over a Basilisk?"
"What else can we do?" Minerva asked weakly.
"I'll-" began John.
"Absolutely not!" Minerva said sternly, "You are just a student! You may be one of the most capable students I've ever seen in my life, but not even you will survive a Basilisk! Especially since you still don't have a working wand!"
"But-" began John.
"No," Minerva said sternly, "My word is final. Go back to your common room and join your students. In fact, Flitwick will escort you there as he's going as well."
The teachers rose and left, one by one. Even John sulkily left alongside Flitwick. John glanced at where Harry and Ron hid for a second and for a second Harry thought he saw John's eye become lizard-like.
It was probably the worst day of Harry's entire life. He, Ron, Fred, and George sat together in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, unable to say anything to each other. Percy wasn't there. He had gone to send an owl to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then shut himself up in his dormitory.
No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Gryffindor Tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset, Fred and George went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.
"She knew something, Harry," said Ron, speaking for the first time since they had entered the wardrobe in the staff room. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all. She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was -" Ron rubbed his eyes frantically. "I mean, she was a pure-blood. There can't be any other reason."
"Don't worry," Prue said as she sat next to him, "I'm sure she'll be rescued soon enough."
Harry could see the sun sinking, blood-red, below the skyline. This was the worst he had ever felt. If only there was something they could do. Anything.
"Harry" said Ron. "D'you think there's any chance at all she's not - you know-"
Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't see how Ginny could still be alive.
"D'you know what?" said Ron. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is."
Because Harry couldn't think of anything else to do, and because he wanted to be doing something, he agreed. The Gryffindors around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that nobody tried to stop them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole. Prue also went with them, because she knows the pain of losing a loved one. Also, she wasn't the type to just stand by and do nothing… not when she can do something about it.
Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.
Harry knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.
"Oh - Mr. Potter - Mr. Weasley-" he said, opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment -if you would be quick-"
"Professor, we've got some information for you," said Harry. "We think it'll help you."
"Er - well - it's not terribly-" The side of Lockhart's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean - well - all right-"
He opened the door and they entered.
His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.
"Are you going somewhere?" said Harry.
"He's leaving," Prue realized with anger in her eyes. Lockhart flinched when he saw that.
"What about my sister?" said Ron jerkily.
"Well, as to that - most unfortunate -" said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I-"
Suddenly, he went flying through the air and landed on top of a table. Harry and Ron looked to see Prue glaring at Lockhart angrily.
"How-" began Lockhart.
"My family is a special kind of witch family," Prue said angrily, "we can use magic if we want to without needing wands. I have telekinesis. My sisters have powers of their own, but right now… mine is all you need to worry about."
Lockhart chuckled nervously.
"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Harry. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"
"Well - I must say - when I took the job-" Lockhart muttered as he got up off the table, "nothing in the job description - didn't expect-"
"You mean you're running away?" said Harry disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books —"
"Books can be misleading," said Lockhart delicately.
"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.
"My dear boy," said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on-"
"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" said Harry incredulously.
"Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, shaking his head impatiently, "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."
He then turned around and placed socks on his robes before he banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.
"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."
He pulled out his wand and turned to them.
"Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book-"
Suddenly, he stopped talking and looked to have frozen. Harry, Ron, and Prue looked behind them to see Piper standing with John and Phoebe.
"Piper!" exclaimed Prue, "What are you doing out of your dormitory?"
"I could ask you the same, ya know," Piper replied with a raised eyebrow, "besides, it's a good thing I did show up otherwise you, Harry, and Ron wouldn't know a grape from a rock."
"How did you-" began Harry.
"Phoebe saw it in one of her premonitions," Piper explained, "and John got her to me with floo powder. The rest can be assumed."
"Ah," Prue said before she quickly remembered something, "Oh… Piper's time freezing power has a limited time."
"In that case," john said as he walked over and pulled the wand from Lockhart's hands, "I'll take that."
He stood there for a second and then grinned evilly. He raised his leg and then kicked Lockhart hard right in the family jewels. He returned to the others with a smug expression.
"Isn't that a bit…" Phoebe trailed off.
"He deserved it," Prue said even though she didn't like how willing John was to do that.
As soon as John turned to stare at Lockhart again, time resumed for the fraud.
"Gah!" Lockhart cried out as he grabbed his crotch and fell to the ground.
"You shouldn't have tried to erase our memories," Harry said angrily as he pointed his wand at Lockhart.
"What d'you want me to do?" said Lockhart weakly. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."
"You're in luck," said Harry, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wand point. "We think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Let's go."
They marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
They sent Lockhart in first. Harry was pleased to see that he was shaking.
Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.
"Oh, it's you two," she said when she saw Harry and John. "What do you want this time?"
Harry was about to speak, but John stopped him.
"I think it's best if I ask the question, mate," john said, "she already doesn't like me much."
"To ask you how you died," said John when he turned towards her.
Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. Instead of pissed, as they expected, she looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.
"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then-" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."
Never thought I'd see a ghost be proud of how they died, John thought with an mentally raised eyebrow.
"How?" asked Harry.
"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…"
She looked dreamily at Harry as she continued, "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."
"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" asked Harry.
"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.
All of them hurried over to it. Lockhart was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face.
It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Harry saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.
"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it.
"Harry," said Ron. "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."
"But-" Harry thought hard. The only times he'd ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when he'd been faced with a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real.
"Open up," he said.
He looked at Ron, who shook his head.
"English," he said.
"Allow me," John said as he stepped forward.
"I doubt you speak snake," Ron said skeptically.
"No…" John said as he closed his eyes and searched for what he knew was there but had never noticed before.
When he opened his eyes, they were glowing bright red and in the shape of diamonds. Just like a lizard's. When he looked towards them they widened their eyes and stepped back voluntarily.
"What?" John asked.
"Your eyes…" Ron said his face pale.
John looked towards the sink and into the mirror above it and widened his eyes. Then he smirked.
"No wonder I've always wanted a dragon," John said mostly to himself.
He then stared at the faucet and for a second he thought the snake on it had moved.
"Open up," he said.
Except that the words weren't what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.
John heard them gasp and looked up again. When he did so, his eyes were back to normal much to their relief. However, the fact his eyes could glow and become lizard-esque was too firmly etched into their memories.
"What?" John asked again that night.
"Are you actually-" began Harry.
"No," John said as he turned towards the pipe, "According to Dumbledore, I'm the last Heir of Godric Gryffindor."
"But you're a ravenclaw," Phoebe said confused.
"I know," John snorted, "quite ironic. The Heir of Gryffindor not being a Gryffindor."
Harry being the first one to recover from the new information had made up his mind what he was going to do.
"I'm going down there," he said.
He couldn't not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny might be alive.
"Me too," said Ron.
Phoebe immediately paled as her premonition from earlier flashed through her mind.
"John," Phoebe said quietly. John frowned but followed her out of earshot from the others.
"What is it?" John asked.
"You can't let Harry go down there," Phoebe said with a worried tone.
"Why not?" John asked confused.
"I saw it," Phoebe said, "I saw his and Ginny's death earlier in the year. I think this is where the path to his death can be diverted… if you take his place."
"You're asking me to die?" John asked with a frown.
"No," Phoebe said shaking her head, "I think you're the only one of us that might be immune to the Basilisk."
John looked at her for a second, and then walked towards where Harry was.
A few seconds earlier, back at the pipe…
Neither Harry nor Ron jumped down into the pipe because they were honestly a bit afraid to do so. They were shocked to action when Lockhart spoke, however.
"Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just-"
He put his hand on the door knob, but Ron and Harry both pointed their wands at him.
"You can go first," Ron snarled.
White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.
"Boys," he said, his voice feeble. "Boys, what good will it do?"
Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.
"I really don't think —" he started to say, but Ron gave him a push, and he slid out of sight.
Harry was about to follow, but suddenly he was grabbed in a headlock.
"John!" Ron yelled as he aimed his wand at the exorcist, "What are you doing?!"
"Keeping a promise," John said as he suffocated Harry to unconsciousness.
"What promise?" Ron asked.
"Keeping Potter alive," John replied as he stood up.
"Now," John said as he walked towards the opening, "if you want to save your sister… stop pointing your useless wand at me and follow."
"We'll stay behind," Prue said as she knelt next to Harry and positioned him in a comfortable position.
"It's really quite filthy down here," echoed the voice of Lockhart from below.
John didn't even regard them with a response as he sat down at the edge and allowed himself to fall.
It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him he could hear Ron, thudding slightly at the curves.
And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. John stood aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe, too.
"We must be miles under the school," said John, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.
"Under the lake, probably," said Ron, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.
All three of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead.
"Lumos!" John muttered to Lockhart's wand and it lit again. "C'mon," he said to Ron and Lockhart, and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.
The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.
"Remember," John said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…"
But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. John lowered the wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ginny might look like if they found her, Ron looked imploringly at John who led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.
"John - there's something up there-" said Ron hoarsely, grabbing John's shoulder.
They froze, watching. John could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.
"Maybe it's asleep," he breathed, glancing back at the other two. Lockhart's hands were pressed over his eyes. John turned back to look at the thing, his heart beating so fast it hurt.
Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them and still see, John edged forward, his wand held high.
The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.
"Blimey," said Ron weakly.
There was a sudden movement behind them. Gilderoy Lockhart's knees had given way.
"Get up," said Ron sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.
"Ron, get away from him!" John yelled when he saw the look in Lockhart's eyes.
Unfortunately, Ron was too slow as Lockhart snatched the wand out of Ron's hands and aimed it at the both of them.
John took stepped forward with his stolen wand aimed at Lockhart, but too late - Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron's wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.
"The adventure ends here, boys!" he said. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body - say good-bye to your memories!"
He raised Ron's Spell-o-taped wand high over his head and yelled, "Obliviate!"
The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. John flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.
"Ron!" he shouted. "You still breathing? Ron!"
"I'm here!" came Ron's muffled voice from behind the rockfall. "I'm okay - this git's not, though - he got blasted by the wand-"
There was a dull thud and a loud "ow!" It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.
"What now?" Ron's voice said, sounding desperate. "We can't get through - it'll take ages…"
John looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it. He had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now didn't seem a good moment to try - what if the whole tunnel caved in?
There was another thud and another "ow!" from behind the rocks. They were wasting time. Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours… John knew there was only one thing to do.
"Wait there," he called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on… If I'm not back in an hour…"
There was a very pregnant pause, "I'll try and shift some of this rock," said Ron, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you can - can get back through. And, John-"
"What?" John asked.
"Just so you know," Ron said apologetically, "I don't think you're a monster. Even though there are aspects of you that unnerve me because of how abnormal they are."
"Bloody hell," John muttered to himself.
"No chick flick moments," John said to Ron.
"Right," Ron replied followed by another "ow" on the other side of the rock wall.
"See you in a bit," said John, trying to inject some confidence into his voice.
And he set off alone past the giant snake skin.
Soon the distant noise of Ron straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in John's body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.
John approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.
He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker. His eyes once again became diamond shaped glowed red.
Open," said John, in a low, faint hiss.
The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and John, walked inside as his eyes returned to normal.
i know. much longer than the previous couple of chapters. couldn't be helped really. however, we're getting close to the end. honestly don't know how many chapters there are in the book, and so i don't know how many more i need to write/alter. as always please favorite if you like it, follow if you want more updates, and leave a review if you have questions and/or good comments to say.