I'd like to thank fredfred and InquisitorCOC for beta-reading.

Chapter 2: The Monster

Valley of the Kings, Egypt, July 7th, 1992

"That's a very deep drop, Doc," Bill commented as he looked down the shaft they had just uncovered.

Petunia Evans knew what he really meant, of course, when she saw him frown as she pulled out her rope ladder from her backpack. "What do you propose, a broom?" she asked with a snort. The shaft was too narrow for a broom; you'd have to fly straight down, and not even Harry on a dare would be so reckless as to attempt that. At least she hoped so; she certainly had scolded him enough after his latest Wronski Feint.

"I could levitate you down," he replied.

She bit down on her first, scathing, reply, and chuckled. "By levitating my clothes? Nice try, Bill."

He grinned, though she saw him blush a little. "Not like that. I could levitate a platform, though."

She shook her head. "This is the tomb of a Necromancer. The shaft is likely lined with traps. I need to be able to react quickly if we trip one." And she couldn't do that while depending on his wand.

He frowned again but didn't pursue the argument any further. She was right, anyway.

She walked over to the top of the shaft and hammered in the spikes to hold the ladder in place. Bill would use a Sticking Charm, too, of course, but it never hurt to have some redundancy.

"How did you find this shaft, anyway?" Bill asked as she started to limber up for the descent. "Every Curse-Breaker I know has been through here and never noticed anything."

Harry had asked the snakes in the area for 'big caves or stones underground', but Petunia couldn't tell Bill that. If that secret got out, people would call Harry a dark wizard. And the fewer who knew about it, the safer it was. She grinned. "Female intuition."

He snorted and shook his head at that. "Ladies first," he said with an exaggerated bow as she walked past him to the opening.

She didn't deign to respond and instead checked if her weapons were properly secured in their holsters. Glock-20s on her hips, combat knife strapped to her calf, entrenching tool and shotgun in their sheaths on her backpack.

"Those won't do much against traps," Bill said.

"I know." And he also knew why she had started wearing so many weapons - his youngest brother had been at Harry's side when they had encountered Voldemort a few months ago.

She adjusted the light on her headband and started climbing down. The ladder hadn't triggered any traps, but she knew better than to trust that; the ancient Egyptians had known their business. But she had one advantage: The traps would have been installed to keep whoever was buried there from getting out, and they would be magical - and meant to last millennia.

And no trap, not even a magical one, could last if the stone on which it was placed crumbled. She grinned when she spotted the block below her. Unlike the one next to her, it was dusty but free of any signs of erosion. Magically preserved. Trapped.

She placed a sticky marker right above the trapped area and climbed up again. "Time to earn your cut," she told Bill.

"Finally! I was getting bored here," he replied, grinning, but she knew him well enough to notice the tiny sliver of fear underneath his bravado.

Which was a good thing. As a tomb raider, that fear kept you alive.

It didn't take him more than a few minutes to deal with that trap, but Petunia found six more traps on the way down. Her arms were tired from all the climbing up and down when she finally stood on the bottom of the shaft and stared down a long, narrow passage.

She was in better shape than Bill, of course. Her partner chose to float down on a levitated rock instead of taking the ladder. She smirked but didn't comment.

"Ready?" she asked.

"I was born ready," he replied, still acting the cocky Curse-Breaker.

She snorted and entered the passage. Hieroglyphs on the walls told the story of the rise and fall of the necromancer buried here, but not his name. The Pharaoh at the time had had the name erased - a final punishment for a man who had tried to live forever. And yet, the man had been buried, rather than burned to ashes and scattered to the four winds. Wizards.

Halfway to the door at the end of the passage, she stopped. There was a tiny line in the dust. And another two yards ahead. "Pit trap," she announced.

Bill nodded and pulled a small rock out of his pocket as she walked past him. He lobbed the rock so it landed on the trap. Nothing happened. He flicked his wand, and the rock grew to ten, then twenty times its size. He looked at her.

"It probably reacts to living creatures," Petunia stated the obvious.

Frowning, he turned the rock into a pig. The animal had barely started to get its bearing when the floor dropped away beneath it. The panicked screams cut off sharply.

Petunia went to check, then nodded. "Spear pit trap." The transfigured pig had been pierced by half a dozen spikes set at the bottom of the pit.

Bill winced but nodded. "Is it safe to create a bridge?"

Petunia shrugged. "I think so." Before he could do so, though, she dashed forward and jumped over the gap, landing in a crouch on the other side. She smirked at his expression.

A few minutes later they reached the door. Or rather, the massive stone block barring their way. Petunia couldn't spot any signs of any traps nearby, but the stone was almost glowing with magic. She turned to Bill and nodded at the obstacle. And ignored his grin as he started to dismantle the spells protecting the stone.

By the time Bill had finished unravelling the wards defending the entrance to what she was certain was the actual grave chamber, Petunia had taken pictures of the hieroglyphs in the passage - carefully omitting the trap, of course. That would be too sensational for British Archaeology. Also, all the muggle experts would believe that the tomb was a fake since such a trap wouldn't have lasted for over three thousand years. Not to mention that the dead pig would get the animal rights activists after her.

"I'm ready to do the honours," Bill announced. He looked tired but obviously proud. And justifiably so - few Curse-Breakers could have done what he had, and even fewer in that time.

She smiled at him and nodded. "Do it."

He swished his wand, and the stone block barring their way shrunk, revealing - as she had expected - the grave chamber of the Nameless Necromancer.

She smiled as she stepped into the chamber - the first living being to do so in thousands of years. There were more hieroglyphs on the walls, telling of the trial, execution and entombing of the necromancer. In gruesome detail. There was his sarcophagus, surrounded by various containers for his organs. And the treasure.

"Why did they bury him with treasure?" Bill asked, crouching down and studying a golden cup.

"They wanted to erase his name from history. That meant disposing of everything he had created in his life," Petunia explained.

He scoffed. "Didn't really work out, did it?"

She shrugged. "The Pharaoh didn't anticipate getting toppled a few years later, and his successor spreading the legend of the Nameless Necromancer to enhance his own legitimacy." Which hadn't worked out either, but that was irrelevant now.

"Uh, Doc."

"What?" Petunia turned away from the last line of hieroglyphs.

Bill had opened one container. "This one should be holding his brain, but it's empty."

"Check the others!" Petunia snapped, walking over to the sarcophagus. It was covered with hieroglyphs as well. No, with Egyptian runes. Seals. This wasn't a normal tomb. This was a prison.

"The others are empty as well," Bill reported, his wand aimed at the sarcophagus.

"They mummified him alive," Petunia whispered.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Bill whispered.

She shook her head. "Alive? No. Be silent now." She pressed her ear against the stone, but couldn't hear anything. Clenching her teeth, she turned to Bill.

"One Supersensory Charm coming up," he said. For once, he didn't grin, as he usually did when she was unexpectedly forced to rely on his spells. He cast the spell, then knelt down next to the sarcophagus. And paled. "I hear something scratching inside."

So much for discovering an intact mummy, Petunia thought as she reached into her backpack for a molotov cocktail.

"...and then I opened a small hole in the lid, and the Doc dropped a bomb inside. Poof - no more evil mummy!" Bill spread his hands with a grin as he finished his story for Harry.

Petunia smiled at the rapt expression on her nephew's face. Bill had skipped how long it had taken for the mummy to burn to ashes. And the screams. And the fact that the air had quickly turned foul inside the tomb, and that she had had to rely on his Bubble-Head Charm. She didn't mind, though - it made a better story for the children when one skipped such minutiae.

Especially when not to do so would remind Harry of how Quirrell had burned to death under his hands just a few months ago. He didn't deserve more nightmares.

So when Harry turned to her and asked with big eyes if Bill's story was true, she nodded with a smile and ruffled his hair. "Yes. Another successful expedition."

"Does that mean that we can return to Britain?" Harry asked.

Petunia winced. Voldemort was in Britain. She knew about Lily's protection, Dumbledore had told her when he had brought Harry to her, after that horrible Halloween, but would that be enough? Granted, it had worked against Quirrell. It had worked so well that Harry had to deal with having killed a man at eleven. And he wasn't that safe in the camp, even with the guards paid extra to protect him.

"I'd like to celebrate my birthday with my friends, Auntie." Harry was looking at her while Bill was pointedly not looking at her. "I promise I won't go exploring any tombs over the summer, either," Harry added, nodding earnestly.

Petunia narrowed her eyes at her nephew. "Do you mean that if we don't go back, you'll start exploring tombs here?" If he hadn't already - talking to desert snakes would let him find any nearby tombs.

He coughed. "I didn't say that."

"But you meant it."

He pouted. "I'm just saying that I wouldn't be so tempted if we were back in England."

She sighed. "Alright. I'll talk to Ripclaw and tell him I'm taking my vacation now."

Harry beamed at her, and Bill chuckled. She glared at her partner, then grinned and addressed her nephew. "Why don't you write your friends that Bill and I found another tomb, are now done for the summer and you'll be back in England earlier than planned?"

Harry nodded happily and went off to his room in their tent. Bill glared at her. She grinned at him. Ron would tell Molly, and Molly would know that Bill had no excuse not to visit The Burrow.

"You know," Bill said, smiling again, "one might think that you want me to return to Britain with you." He flicked his earring as he stood and took a step towards her.

She snorted. He was a handsome wizard - well-built, slightly taller than her. Witty, too. But he was a wizard, and he was eleven years younger than her. She had been finishing her studies at Cambridge when he had started at Hogwarts. Not that, after all their years working together, he was serious about seducing her any more.

And her affair with her first partner had taught her better than to mix love and business. That kind of stupidity got tomb raiders killed. Banter and flirting, though, was alright. You had to do what you could to amuse yourself in the camp.

So she stepped right up to him, craning her neck slightly, and said in the sauciest tone she could manage: "In your dreams, Bill."

He acted as if struck, putting a hand on his heart, and she patted his shoulder as she walked out of the tent. She had a goblin to talk to.

"You're leaving?" Ripclaw sounded as if Petunia had just announced that she had massacred his family. Or stolen his gold. But all goblins sounded like that when talking to wizards, especially those in their employ, and Petunia had long since stopped being impressed, much less intimidated, by their belligerent attitude.

"I'm taking a vacation in England," she corrected the goblin. "With my nephew."

"Summer's barely started," he growled.

"Yes. And I prefer to spend the hottest days of the year in England, not here." She leaned forward slightly, towering over the goblin. Attitude was everything when dealing with the greedy creatures. If you showed any weakness, they tried to capitalise on it. But they paid well, and they weren't allowed to use wands.

He huffed. "What a waste of gold."

She shrugged. "I just found the tomb of the Nameless Necromancer. Even if I stayed here, I'd be busy writing articles about it, so it's not as if you will be losing gold."

He scoffed but didn't disagree with her. "When will you be back?"

"After September first," she told him.

"Ah." He huffed again. "I assume Curse-Breaker Weasley will be leaving too?"

Was Ripclaw joking? Even after a decade of working for Gringotts, she still didn't understand goblin humour. She shrugged. "That is up to him. And his mum."

Ripclaw cackled as he handed her her Portkey and waved her off, so the goblin had probably been joking.

It didn't matter. She had her Portkey. And Harry would have his party.

Cokeworth, Midlands, Britain, July 31st, 1992

An hour into Harry's birthday party, Petunia knew that next year, she would accept Molly's offer to host the party at The Burrow. There the children could play Quidditch, which would both occupy and tire them out. Her and Harry's home, however, was in the middle of Cokeworth. Flying was not possible. And the children were a little too old for the local playground, she added to herself as she stared out of the window in the kitchen. Lily hadn't gone out there any more, not after she had started Hogwarts. She had visited Snape instead. To talk about magic, Petunia thought, clenching her teeth.

"And that's the skull of the Sand Drake Auntie killed last year!"

Not that she thought that they would go to the playground when Harry was bent on showing off all the relics and souvenirs from their travels. Ron, Ginny, Luna, Fred and George had been here before, but Hermione and the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team - apart from the captain, who didn't attend, as he was visiting a Quidditch team instead, or so she'd been told - hadn't been given 'the tour' yet.

"Auntie, Auntie!"

She turned around. "No, Harry, I'm not going to show you an RPG."

He gaped at her for a moment - had he really thought she wouldn't know what he was about to ask? - then frowned. "Why not?"

"It's highly illegal, for one thing," Hermione pointed out.

"She has a license!" Harry replied.

Arranged by Gringotts, and Petunia didn't know, nor did she want to know, how they had managed that. She was glad, though - a gun wouldn't do much against Voldemort, but at least she wasn't completely helpless. She cleared her throat. "I'm not showing you any weapons."

"But we already saw the hunting rifle on the wall," Ron said.

She rolled her eyes. "Then you should be satisfied." She suddenly frowned. The trio, as she thought of Harry, Ron and Hermione, was badgering her, the twins were going through the fridge, taking out bottles of cola for the 'Chasers', as Harry had introduced them, but… "Where are Ginny and Luna?"

"Oh, they've gone to the playground," said Harry blithely. "Luna wanted to play on the swings again."

Apparently, Petunia had been wrong about the appeal of the playground. "Stay here! I'll go fetch them!" she told Harry and the others and hurried to the front door. She hoped the house would still be standing when she returned.

The house was still standing and not on fire ten minutes later when she herded the two sullen girls back inside.

"But there aren't any swings here!" Luna protested. "Last time we could play there!"

"Last time, everyone was at the playground," Petunia pointed out. "Since I can't be in two places at once, you'll have to stay at the house."

"But…" Luna sniffled.

Petunia rolled her eyes at her. She wasn't falling for that again. Not after last time.

"We just need to tell the others that we should go to the playground," Ginny said, brightening. "Come on!" She tugged on Luna's sleeve, and the blonde eagerly followed her into the house.

Petunia shook her head. At least the discussion about whether or not they should all go to the playground would take a while to resolve, and then it would be time for the cake.

She was about to enter the house herself when she spotted a dark figure watching her from the corner of the street. She had her hand on the grip of the gun she carried under her shoulder before she recognised him. Snape.

She pressed her lips together. Dumbledore had told her that their home was protected against Voldemort and his followers and that there was no need for additional security. So what was Snape doing here? Spying on her? She wanted to walk over and give him a piece of her mind, but she didn't want to give Harry ideas. Not when he finally was managing to get through most of his Potions lessons without clashing with Snape.

So she glared at the wizard and then went inside to settle the growing argument in the living room.

London, Diagon Alley, August 19th, 1992

Today, Three PM: Gilderoy Lockhart signing his new book, Magical Me!

Petunia frowned when she saw the sign outside Flourish and Blotts. It wasn't enough that the twit was the new Defence teacher at Hogwarts, but of all the days he could choose to promote his newest book, he had to pick the day Petunia visited Diagon Alley?

She pressed her lips together and turned away. "Let's go to Florean's. My treat," she told the assembled Weasleys, Grangers, Lovegoods and Harry.

Molly opened her mouth to protest but Petunia nodded at the sign. "Oh dear!" the witch said. "Yes, let's go to Fortescue's. We need a break. And then we can go to Ollivander's and buy Ginny and Luna their wands."

"But shouldn't we buy our books first?" Hermione spoke up. "That way, we can read while Ginny and Luna pick out their wands. And," she added with a beaming smile, "there's a famous author signing his books, too!"

Petunia sighed. Hermione was a muggleborn; she didn't know. But how to tell her that…

"Auntie and the twit, they have a history," Harry said, glaring at the sign.

"What?" Hermione stared wide-eyed at Harry, then at Petunia.

"Yes," Harry went on before Petunia could stop him. "He seduced her, then dumped her and wrote a book about it!"

"Harry!" Petunia hissed.

"What?" He looked at her, the picture of affronted innocence. "It's true! I was there!"

"You were four," she corrected him.

"So? I still know the truth," he insisted. "Lockhart is a jealous twit who tried to steal Auntie's fame after they explored a tomb together."

"Because she's a squib?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Harry answered while the Grangers tried to teach their daughter a little more tact.

"That's despicable!" Hermione exclaimed. "We should tell him off!"

"No, we should get some ice cream," Petunia said, frowning at the girl until she caved.

They started to walk towards the Ice Cream Parlour, but Harry wasn't finished yet.

"And you know the worst thing? He's our new Defence teacher!"

"What?"

"Yeah!"

Petunia shook her head. Not that Lockhart didn't deserve the scorn for trying to portray her as a 'plucky squib' who had to be saved by the famous author, but she would have to tell Harry not to start another feud with a teacher. And, she added after seeing the others' expressions, his friends as well.

Despite Molly's earlier words, Petunia had had to repeatedly insist that yes, she was paying for the entire group until the proud witch relented. Petunia smiled at her small triumph as she waited outside Ollivander's with Arthur and the Grangers while Molly and Xenophilius were buying wands for their daughters. What good was risking your life for gold if you weren't allowed to spend it as you saw fit?

But her good mood vanished as soon as she saw who was walking down the Alley: the Malfoys, father and son. And they had seen her.

"What a curious sight outside this prestigious shop: a squib and a disgrace. Why are you looking at wands which one of you cannot use and the other cannot afford?" Lucius Malfoy sneered at them.

"The only disgrace here is you," Arthur retorted.

"Death Eater!" Harry piped up.

"Muggle lover!" Draco retorted.

Both had drawn their wands, Petunia realised. And they weren't the only ones. She stepped in front of Harry and faced Lucius. "Are you finished with your childish insults?"

His sneer turned into a mocking smile. "Doesn't it hurt to know that even children have more power than you?"

Petunia heard Harry gasp and quickly reached out with her hand to keep him from going for the wizard. "Of course you would think that all power comes from the end of a wand," she spat, struggling to keep her temper.

He grinned. "Touched a nerve, did I? But then, you're doubly cursed. Not only are you a squib, but you're a muggleborn squib. I didn't even know that that was possible."

"There's so much you don't know, it would fill the Great Library of Alexandria several times over," she retorted.

He glared at her, then that mocking smile appeared on his face again. "Maybe it isn't possible. Maybe your parents adopted you out of pity." He glanced at Harry, then at her. "Certainly, I fail to see any family resemblance between you and your late sister."

Petunia wanted to hit him. Or shoot him. But that was what he wanted, she realised - there was a pair of Aurors waiting a short distance away.

Arthur must have missed them since he took a step forward and bellowed: "That's enough!"

Lucius chuckled. "And there we have it - the wizard stepping up to protect the squib. How noble of you, Arthur. Or is she paying you to guard her? You do need the money, after all."

Before Arthur could deck or curse him, Petunia grabbed his arm. "Don't let him provoke you!" she hissed. "There are Aurors waiting."

The wizard took a deep breath and managed to control himself. "Up to your underhanded tricks again?" he spat through clenched teeth. "How typical."

"Yeah, just like a Death Eater!" Harry said again.

"Death Eater!" "Death Eater!" "Death Eater!"

The other Weasley children took up the cry while Hermione whispered to her parents - probably explaining what this was about, Petunia thought.

And, of course, that was when the Aurors finally broke up the confrontation.

She hated visiting Diagon Alley.

Valley of the Kings, Egypt, November 3rd, 1992

Petunia stared at the letter Hedwig had just delivered. What was going on at Hogwarts? It hadn't been like this when Lily had attended the school, and they had been at war back then!

Dear Auntie,

A lot has happened since my last letter! We've beaten Slytherin at Quidditch again, despite Malfoy having bought new brooms for the entire team. They simply aren't good enough. Lockhart is still a twit and his lessons are more about him than the spells - but at least we're learning interesting spells from all his adventures. That's much better than Quirrell managed. Snape's still a git. And the twins pulled another prank on Malfoy. Turned him into a chicken during breakfast and had the house-elves chase him! Maybe he'll learn not to insult you.

But the most important thing is: The Chamber of Secrets has been opened - the legendary secret chamber of Salazar Slytherin! That's what someone wrote in blood on a wall while everyone was at the Halloween feast. The last time that happened was fifty years ago, but they never found the chamber.

But we're working on it. We're sure that it's in the dungeons somewhere, but we don't know where exactly. When we're not mapping out the dungeons, we're splitting up. Hermione's searching the library for clues, and Ron's asking the ghosts about it. Luna, Ginny and I are trying to find whoever is behind this - it's a younger student, we think, the writing on the wall wasn't high enough for an adult, so we're observing all of the lower years. Not at once, of course. And once we find them, we can follow them to the chamber.

Also, Filch's cat has disappeared, and he is blaming us, but we didn't do a thing to his stupid cat. Don't believe a word he says when Dumbledore calls you.

Love,

Harry

Petunia took a deep breath and put the letter down. Then she glared at Bill, who had just finished Ron's letter: "This is all your fault. You encouraged them with your stories."

He at least had the grace to wince.

She shook her head. "I'll write to Dumbledore. He has to put a stop to this before someone gets hurt."

Like Harry.

Hogwarts, December 4th, 1992

Petunia stared at the petrified boy in the school's infirmary. Colin Creevey - Harry had told her his name in his letter - was still clutching his camera. Which had been destroyed by whatever had attacked him.

"Why hasn't he been cured yet?" she asked as she straightened. She had left Egypt, and Bill, who was dealing with Ripclaw and an injury, as soon as possible after she had received the news, but it had still taken her two days to reach Hogwarts. The boy should have been revived in the meantime.

The matron frowned at her. "Normally, a Mandrake potion poured on his lips would revive him, but it didn't work in his case. The Headmaster theorised that this is because the effect is too strong to be countered by a potion that has only been symbolically ingested. Professor Snape is working on a potion that can be applied externally, but it will take some time."

She snorted. Snape being helpful - what a change. "So we cannot ask him what kind of monster attacked him. And his camera has been conveniently destroyed as well. But what kind of creature has such a strong petrification attack?" A Gorgon, maybe? But, as far as she was aware, Mandrake potions worked on their victims.

"It's a Basilisk!"

Petunia turned and saw Harry and his friends standing at the entrance to the infirmary.

Hermione nodded emphatically. "Colin didn't see the eyes directly, but through the lens of his camera. That's why he was petrified rather than killed," she explained.

"That seems a little far-fetched," Petunia said.

"It is a Basilisk. We heard it hiss inside the pipes," Ron insisted.

Petunia's eyes widened. They heard it hiss? She knew what that meant. Harry had heard the monster talk. "I see. A Basilisk." That would be a sticky affair. Even with Dumbledore.

"Will you hunt it down and kill it?" Harry asked.

She shook her head. "No. I'll leave that to Dumbledore. I'm just here to find the Chamber of Secrets."

"We can help!" Harry exclaimed. "We almost found it, when Colin was petrified."

Over her dead body. Harry wasn't going near that monster.

"We have to search the pipes," Ron added. "The ones big enough for a Basilisk to pass through."

"But Dumbledore had all of them sealed up when we told him that the monster was using them," Hermione said. "We didn't know what kind of monster it was, then."

"Basilisks can pass through pipes too small for humans," Petunia told them. The average size of a Basilisk was between a large python and an anaconda. "So I think we'll have to use another way."

"What do you mean?"

She grinned. "I'll need to look at where Colin was attacked - and you'll go back to your dorm, or I'll have you sent to The Burrow!" They'd be safe there while Dumbledore organised the evacuation of the school.

"My dear Petunia! I should have known that your love of adventure would draw you here, to Hogwarts, in our most critical hour!"

Petunia pressed her lips together and resisted the urge to shoot Lockhart. "Gilderoy," she said in a flat tone.

"The one and only!" He smiled at her, flashing his perfect teeth, and, as usual, seemed to be unable to understand that not every woman would swoon in his handsome presence. "We two famous adventurers, reunited on a quest to save the school! The book practically writes itself!"

She glared at Dumbledore. That was his fault. He had hired the bastard. Famous adventurers, indeed! After Lockhart had tried to claim the lion's share of their fame for discovering the tomb of the First Priest of Anubis!

As she should have expected, the Headmaster was unfazed by her glare. He smiled. "Gilderoy volunteered to help you find the Chamber of Secrets as soon as he heard of your arrival."

That Petunia didn't doubt for a second. The damned glory hound was already thinking of his next book. But she might need a wizard, and, for all his faults, not the least among them the time he spent on his admittedly attractive appearance, Lockhart could hold his own in a sticky situation. If only Bill were here, instead of recovering from a close encounter with a Stone Snake...

She nodded. "Alright. Let's get started." She stepped forward. "Colin was attacked here?"

"At this very spot," Lockhart said, pointing at the ground. "I found him. If only I had been a little faster…"

She crouched down and looked at the floor. A Basilisk's hide was very tough - almost as tough as a dragon's. That should leave some trace on the ground, even on stone. She pulled out her Omnioculars and put them on, then zoomed in on the floor.

"This could take a while," she told them as she started to search for tiny abrasions caused by the hard scales on the beast's stomach.

"Then I will leave it in your capable hands," Dumbledore said, "and return to my other duties." He shook his head. "Many students, especially members of House Slytherin, have already vacated the school of their own volition, so we have to take great care in ascertaining whether anyone is missing. Rest assured, though, that Minerva is keeping a close eye on Harry and his friends."

"Good," replied Petunia. If Harry managed to sneak away...

"And we'll do our utmost," the twit said as if he were doing anything but posturing. "I won't let the monster touch a single hair on her head!"

"We're just going to find the Chamber, not fight the monster!" Petunia exclaimed without looking up.

"You never know what might happen."

This time, she looked up, pulled off her Omnioculars and glared at him. "Gilderoy, if you start a Basilisk hunt instead of waiting for Dumbledore, then I'll kill you even if it's the last thing I do."

To her satisfaction, he flinched. He hadn't forgotten, then. "That wasn't what I meant! I was merely stating that there is always a risk. No plan survives contact with the enemy, after all."

She shook her head and resumed her search for snake tracks. Microscopic snake tracks.

"I have to admit that I expected something a little more impressive than a bathroom."

Petunia chuckled at the twit's petulant tone. "It's not the Chamber. Just - possibly - the entrance."

"A girl's bathroom. A broken girl's bathroom, in fact!"

"Yes." She sneered at him. "I'm certain you'll manage to turn it into a suitably sinister location in your book. Maybe a hidden dungeon?"

He frowned at her, running his hand through his hair in that well-practised manner of his. "I wouldn't expect an academic to understand that a story has to be entertaining or no one will read it."

"It should also be true," she spat, "if you're claiming it's a real story."

"To a degree," he said. "Every author bends the truth a little."

"Or more than a little." Like when he was cheating on you.

"Shouldn't we focus on finding the entrance instead of bickering?" he said. "We used to work so well together."

"That was before you dumped me for that Veela," she replied. She pressed her lips together - she was over that. Over the hurt and the jealousy. Over him.

"I told you, I was caught by her allure!"

"There is no Veela allure!" she snarled. "There are only weak men blaming their infidelity on pretty women."

"How would you know?" he shot back.

"I read. And I talked to a Veela. She confirmed it."

He huffed. "Of course they would say that! I know what I experienced!"

"That'd be a first!" She scoffed. "You…" she trailed off when one of the sinks suddenly fell away, revealing a large opening.

"Oh, we found it!" Lockhart exclaimed.

"No," Petunia snarled, clenching her teeth. "It found us."

She heard a rumbling noise - coming closer. And hissing. Loud hissing.

"It's coming!" she yelled, pulling out a flash-bang and sprinting for the door. "Don't look at it! Close the door!"

"That won't stop it!" Lockhart yelled back.

"I know. Just do it!" She ran through the door and went left.

"Done!" she heard Lockhart yell.

A moment later she heard the door splinter. The Basilisk had arrived. She threw the grenade blindly behind her and jumped forward, closing her eyes.

The flash-bang exploded, and bright light filled the hallway. She heard screams and the monster's roar. It was blinded, then - if not for long. But long enough, or so she hoped as she pulled another grenade from her belt. She glanced back and saw a gigantic snake thrashing in the hallway, banging against the walls. And Lockhart running for his life. He was far enough away, and she was running out of time. She threw the grenade and took cover around the closest corner, quickly followed by Lockhart. Three seconds later, the grenade went off and smoke filled the hallway. Smoke and globs of white phosphorus.

The monster howled, and the thrashing grew even worse. She risked a glance around the corner when the first tendrils of smoke reached it. She couldn't see anything inside the hallway. Perfect.

"Did you have to use your canned Fiendfyre again?" Lockhart complained. "That won't kill it. It just made it mad."

"Do you have a better idea?" she snapped.

"As a matter of fact, yes, yes I do," he retorted. "We need to get a rooster."

"Seal the hallway up, first. We'll trap it inside."

But before the twit could conjure a wall, a burning, giant serpentine head - far larger than any Basilisk head had a right to be - emerged from the smoke. For a moment, Petunia was certain she was dead. Then she realised that the phosphorus must have burned the monster's eyes out. But it was still coming for them.

"Run!" she yelled and started sprinting. But the monster was gaining. And they were on the second floor. But a broken leg was better than getting crushed and burned. "Jump!" Petunia raced towards the closest stairs, which were just moving away from her, and threw herself across the widening gap. Lockhart screamed behind her.

She managed to grab the top of the stairs with her hands and pull herself up before she was scraped off the wall by the moving stairs. Panting, she looked behind her. The monster had wedged itself between two pillars. It looked stuck. And Lockhart was on the ground, clutching his legs.

Before she could work out how to reach the twit to help him, a rooster's cry sounded from above her, and the mutilated Basilisk stopped moving.

"It seems I arrived just in time," she heard Dumbledore say as the Headmaster slowly descended on his broom, a rooster perched on one shoulder and a phoenix on the other.

Valley of the Kings, Egypt, December 10th, 1992

"You killed a Basilisk?" Bill asked.

"Technically, Dumbledore killed it," Petunia said. "But I blinded it and burned it. The largest one ever found." And Snape had been livid that her attack had rendered most of the Basilisk's carcass unusable for potions.

"Impressive." He sighed. "I wish I hadn't been laid up here."

"Trust me, I wish the same. I had to work with Lockhart." Unfortunately, the bastard only broke his legs and not his nose when he fell down from the second floor. He had even hit on her when she had visited him in the infirmary - he probably thought a rekindled affair would sell more books. Maybe the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts post would get him, even if he had only signed up for one year.

After several years of working with her, as well as the gossip from the other Curse-Breakers in the camp, Bill knew better than to comment on that. "Did they find the culprit?"

Petunia sighed. "It was another possession by Voldemort. Dumbledore managed to save the victim, though - a second-year student, Theodore Nott. Slytherin."

"That's twice he's managed to infiltrate Hogwarts," Bill said.

"Dumbledore said there wouldn't be a third time. 'I have his measure now'." Petunia snorted as she quoted the Headmaster.

"You don't believe him?"

She shrugged. "We'll see, I guess. At least the school's safe for now. But I think we should look into how Voldemort is doing this."

And into ways to stop him.