Author's Notes: I really don't have a lot to say, so I won't beat around the bush. Everyone's been waiting for Ron's descent into the Chamber of Secrets, and here it is.
Thanks: As usual, big thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story (515 and counting!). I could do this without the feedback of my readers (and those of you who consider yourselves my fans), but it certainly wouldn't be as enjoyable for me. Even bigger thanks to my beta CutewithAcapital-Q who is not only a really wonderful sounding board for my ideas, but a really good friend as well.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR, not me.
MIRROR, MIRROR
Chapter 22
"Reflective Descent"
Ron didn't know what to say. He had really stuffed things up this time. Hermione was on his trail, and while she wasn't exactly correct with her assertions, she was certainly headed in the right direction.
"Hermione…"
"Don't. Don't lie to me, don't try to change the subject, and don't try to get into a row with me so I'll run off crying and forget all about this," Hermione said, harshly wiping at the tears that were staining her cheeks, "I want the truth from you, Ronald Weasley…and I want it now."
Ron stood there, gaping at her openly. What could he say? The truth was too insane to believe. He barely believed it himself at times, and he was living it. She had her arms crossed and she was tapping her foot impatiently. The tears will still there, though she seemed to be holding them at bay at the moment.
"Well…?" she asked tersely.
"W-what makes you think I'm hunting the basilisk?" he asked lamely.
She glared at him. "You really want me to spell it out for you?"
"If you don't mind, yeah," he said, chuckling in an attempt to relieve the tension; though as he saw her expression darken even further towards him, he realized she didn't think it was a laughing matter.
"By your own admission," Hermione began, her voice remaining stern and caustic, "You're about to do something dangerous. You were fairly screaming at me when you said it, and I've noticed that you're at your most honest when you let your temper get the best of you…so I know you weren't lying."
Hermione started pacing now, back-and-forth, across the hallway. Ron could do nothing but mutely watch her. "You also said…or yelled, rather…that the Sight of the Unseeing spell might keep you alive while doing this dangerous thing. There really can't be that many situations where keeping your eyes closed in a dangerous situation could be life-saving."
Ron couldn't help himself; he released an amused snort at her comment. Of course, he shut up quickly as she turned on her heel and once again fixed him with a steely glare. He allowed her to continue, knowing that he'd need time to think of something to tell her. What he wanted to tell her was the truth, to tell her everything; but he knew he couldn't, for her own safety…but he desperately wanted to.
"I spent the last week in the library doing research," she went on, going back to pacing, "Trying to find situations that would be dangerous, yet would be safer if done with one's eyes closed. My first thought was that you were going after Draco Malfoy for what he did during the Quidditch match; but honestly, a wizard's duel with your eyes closed…even if you could see…would be stupid. And having your eyes closed certainly wouldn't defend you against the spells he might use."
Ron found himself nodding along, almost hypnotized by her explanation. She was a force to be reckoned with when she got going, and it was obvious there was no stopping her until she was done…and the truth was revealed.
"So then I started going through texts on magical creatures, and really, the only thing in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that would be deadly if looked at is the basilisk," she said matter-of-factly, "However, I didn't want to put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak, so I checked other magizoology texts. None of the other creatures that I found that might be safer to face with your eyes closed have ever been sighted in Britain. That brought me back to the basilisk."
She turned back to Ron as if expecting him to say something. Ron, however, remained silent, prompting Hermione to continue.
"Harry Potter supposedly killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets back in Second Year," she said, watching Ron as if awaiting a reaction that did not come, "But I think that's nonsense. He said he blasted it to bits with his wand…but considering he pays about as much attention in class as you do, it's impossible for me to believe that he would know that kind of powerful spell as a second year."
"It's no secret you don't like Harry Potter," Hermione continued, no longer waiting for Ron to reply, "You two have been butting heads for years. I think you knew he couldn't have possibly killed the basilisk, and you decided to either show him up by killing it yourself, or get revenge on the thing for petrifying you."
"That's mental!" Ron laughed at Hermione's theories, "I'm not stupid enough to go off seeking revenge on a fifty-foot snake and I certainly don't care about making Harry Potter look bad."
He was almost relieved at the ridiculous conclusions she had come to, but he couldn't quite relax. She was still much too close to the truth; he would be going down into the Chamber and he stood a very good chance of facing off against the basilisk…just not for revenge.
"Then why did you sneak into the Slytherin dungeon?!" Hermione snapped, her hands immediately traveling to her hips as she stood in a typical confrontational pose Ron had seen many times before, "I don't believe for a second that it was just to set off dungbombs! You were down there looking for clues to find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Admit it!"
"No, I won't admit something so barmy!" Ron scoffed, grinning at her.
"It's why you didn't get in trouble!" Hermione shrieked, stomping her foot. Ron arched his eyebrows at her outburst; obviously she did not like being wrong, "Dumbledore knew you were down there looking for clues…and he knows that going after the basilisk will help the school…and he knows if it comes out that the basilisk has been alive all this time and he did nothing, it would cause an uproar! It all makes sense!! He even sent you the book that would help you!!"
"How did you know that?" Ron asked, before he could stop himself. It was the one thing Hermione had gotten exactly right, and the shock of it caused Ron to speak without thinking.
"Aha! You admit it!!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up-and-down, "I knew it as soon as I saw that note fall out of the book. The handwriting matched the handwriting on the note that your owl delivered to you weeks ago…the one telling you to meet someone who just had to be Dumbledore."
"How did you know what those notes said?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her, "I never showed them to you."
"I…read them…over your shoulder," she admitted, blushing, "But that's beside the point! I'm right…admit it!!"
"Fine…you're right about the book," Ron conceded, "But that's it!"
"No!" Hermione shouted, "No, I'm right about the rest of it, too! You're going after the basilisk!!"
"Merlin's pants, Hermione, keep your bloody voice down!" he snapped, reaching over and clamping a hand over her mouth, "Even if I was going after the basilisk, I wouldn't want you shouting about it so loud that the Fat Lady could hear you all the way up on the seventh floor!"
"Sorry," she said quietly, blushing, once Ron removed his hand.
Before another word could pass between them, a voice like fingernails on a chalkboard announced the presence of two new arrivals in the second floor hallway.
"I told you I heard voices, Draco…and look what we have here," Pansy Parkinson said with a malicious grin on her pug-nosed face.
"Well, well…Granger and Weaselbee…you're out of bounds," Draco Malfoy said sneering at the Gryffindors with his wand out and aimed at them, "I think we'll have to give you detention and deduct some house points."
"I think we should just hex them!" Pansy added, pulling out her own wand and pointing it directly at Hermione's chest, "See how she likes being turned into a dog."
"Like you'd be able to cast that spell," Hermione scoffed defiantly.
"Let's find out," Pansy said, narrowing her eyes wickedly.
"Sod off, Pansy!" Ron said shoving the Slytherin girl's wand aside and stepping past her, grabbing Hermione's hand and pulling her along with him, "We're on patrol."
"Not down here you're not, Weasel," Malfoy said, keeping his wand trained on Ron, "You're patrol route doesn't bring you down this far. Down here, you're just a couple of Gryffindors wandering around where you don't belong."
"Try making that detention stick, you little tosser," Ron said hatefully, glaring at Malfoy as he pushed past him as well, "We're done down here."
"I'd be careful who I turned my back on if I were you, Weaselbee," Malfoy warned in a voice that was laced with menace, "You might wind up having a repeat of your last Hogsmeade visit."
"That was you?" Ron asked stiffly, stopping in his tracks and turning to face Malfoy once more, "I should have known."
"What was me?" Malfoy replied with a leering grin, "I heard you had an accident walking back from the village. I simply meant it would be a shame if you had another accident. Who knows…you might actually miss your next Quidditch match…and that would be a shame; who then would we sing for?"
Ron started to lunge for Malfoy, but Hermione had a firm grip on his arm, doing her best to hold him back. Malfoy sneered with venomous glee while Pansy cackled gratingly.
"Ron, no!" Hermione cried, tugging hard on his arm, "It's not worth it!"
"Better listen to her, Weasel," Malfoy prodded, "After all, you have no proof that I actually did anything. So, take your Mudblood whor—AHHH!"
The sickening crack of Draco Malfoy's nose breaking under Ron's fist and the pale-blonde Slytherin's cries of pain echoed off the stone walls of the castle corridor, mixing with the cacophonous shrieks of Pansy Parkinson.
The instant the word "Mudblood" had left Malfoy's mouth, Ron had broken free of Hermione's hold and had pounced on him. Tackling him to the floor, Ron knelt over Malfoy, looming over him menacingly as the Slytherin bled all over himself.
"Never call her that again," Ron spat, his face frighteningly close to Malfoy's, as the blonde boy gazed up at him with teary eyes and a stricken expression.
Hermione stood, frozen and struck dumb, as the scene played out in front of her. Pansy, too, remained glued to her spot, but she was anything but quiet. She continued to shriek in fear and distress and no doubt disgust at the blood which painted Draco's alabaster visage.
As Ron got to his feet, Pansy shakily aimed her wand at him, as if to hex him where he stood. Ron pretended to lunge at her, too and Pansy shrieked once more, dropped her wand, and ducked into the alcove, cowering behind the suit of armor he and Hermione had been standing in front of earlier.
Without another word, Ron turned and grabbed Hermione's hand, dragging her back down the hallway towards the staircase. They broke into a run and didn't stop until they were on the fourth floor, sitting on the floor in an empty classroom with their backs against the wall, catching their breath. Ten minutes passed before either spoke. It was Ron who broke the silence.
"How much you wanna bet I don't get a cushy detention grading papers all week?" he joked, lightly banging his head against the wall behind him.
"You'll be lucky if you don't get expelled," she replied, her voice gravely serious, "I can't believe you did that after I told you it wasn't worth it!"
He shook his head as she scolded him, "No…you said it wasn't worth it to hit him for what he did to me…and you were right. However, it was totally worth it to break that little wanker's nose for what he said about you."
"Ron…"
"Nobody gets away with calling my best friend that word," Ron said, locking eyes with her, "Nobody."
Their eyes remained locked for what seemed an eternity until Hermione blushed deeply and turned away. The spell broken, Ron looked down at his hands. The knuckles of his right hand were scraped and there was blood – Malfoy's blood – spattered across his freckled skin.
"So, we're best friends now, are we?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding strange to him as she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop them, staring at the teacher's desk at the front of the room, "Since when?"
"I reckon since you turned Pansy into a dog for me, and I rearranged Malfoy's face for you," he said, shrugging as he stretched his long legs out in front of him, also looking straight ahead.
"If we're best friends, Ron…you have to be honest with me," she said in a quiet voice that sounded as though she were fighting back tears, "I don't want to see you get hurt."
"Hermione…" Ron sighed, banging his head again, "If I could tell you the truth, I would."
"Why can't you?" Hermione asked, turning to face him, sounding anxious.
Ron took a deep breath. He wanted to tell her. He'd wanted to tell her for months now…to bring her in and have Hermione on his side once again…just like on that other world. But Dumbledore didn't want Hermione to know…he didn't want anyone to know, outside of the people he deemed worthy. People like Snape. That thought had Ron gritting his teeth.
Snape was a former Death Eater…or, at least, that's what he wanted everyone to think…serving as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. But what made him more trustworthy than Hermione…just because Dumbledore said so? Dumbledore makes mistakes…he said so himself. This could be just another of those mistakes…not wanting Ron to trust anyone that he, Dumbledore, didn't choose himself.
Ron didn't agree with Dumbledore; he hadn't agreed with Dumbledore since the moment he set foot here. He recalled going off on the old wizard on more than one occasion…so why was he toeing Dumbledore's line now? When did he become so agreeable?
"Ron…?" Hermione's voice brought him out of his thoughts. She had asked him a question and she was obviously awaiting an answer. "Why can't you tell me the truth?"
"Dumbledore doesn't want me to," he admitted, coming to a decision. He might not tell her everything, since he didn't think she'd believe him, but he would tell her some things, "He says telling you what's going on could put you in danger…and I agree with him."
"But…"
"No. Listen, Hermione," Ron said sternly, grabbing her arms and holding her in place, "You think you know what's going on…but you don't; not exactly. Yes, I might be running into the basilisk soon…but not because I'm hunting it for revenge."
"Then why?" Hermione asked, concern evident in her voice, her eyes desperately searching his for an answer, "Why would you take that kind of risk?"
Ron hesitated. Revealing his true purpose for going into the Chamber of Secrets was a giant step for him to take. Taking her into his confidence could put them both in serious danger…but having her on his side, helping him out…it would almost be worth it. Taking a deep breath, Ron spoke.
"There's something down in the Chamber of Secrets…something important…and Dumbledore needs me to go get it. I'm going to do my best to avoid the basilisk, but just in case I run into that ruddy snake, I'll need that spell you saw…and another one in that old book…to try and get around it."
"What is it that you have to find?" she asked, worry etched across her features, "Why does it have to be you? Why can't Dumbledore do it himself?"
"I can't answer those questions," he said, shaking his head, "You already know too much and if I tell you any more, you could be in just as much danger as I am. I won't let that happen…I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you, 'Mione."
"But I can help you…I can!" she said emphatically, "I'm so good at research, Ron, maybe I could find something else you can use against the basilisk!"
"Hermione…"
"No, please…I want to help!"
"I know you do, and I really appreciate that, but –"
"Ronald Weasley, if you don't let me help you, I swear, I will tell someone…I'll…I'll tell your mother! I'm sure she'd be very interested in knowing what sort of danger Dumbledore is putting you in!"
Ron couldn't help the amused snort that escaped. She was trying everything to convince him, even rolling out the major firepower. Molly Weasley was an unstoppable force, and were this that other world, he might be concerned by Hermione's threat. But this wasn't that world, and he was fairly certain Molly Weasley didn't care what happened to him.
"Even if you did tell her, it wouldn't matter; I'm still going."
Hermione narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips into a hard line. "You're a stubborn idiot, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know," he said, nodding. He let go of her and sat back against the wall, closing his eyes. Ron knew that she was in no way happy with his refusal to let her help, but there was no way he was going to put her life on the line when it didn't need to be. As much as he wanted things to be happy and friendly between the two of them, he'd settle for her being angry with him, so long as she was safe.
Silence settled over them for several minutes with the two of them simply sitting against the wall, lost in their own thoughts. It was Hermione who broke the silence when she suddenly got to her feet and began walking towards the door leading out of the classroom.
"We'd better get back to our patrol," she said, stopping with her hand on the doorknob, looking back over her shoulder at Ron, "We're likely to be in enough trouble once Draco and Pansy report us, so we shouldn't add abandoning our patrol to the list of rules we broke."
Ron looked at her for a moment, just watching her as she stood there. Finally he nodded and got to his feet joining her at the door.
"Don't worry about it, Hermione," he said as they re-entered the fourth floor hallway, "You didn't really break any rules and since I was the one that broke Malfoy's nose, I'll make sure you don't get any of the blame."
"Good luck with that," Hermione said, shaking her head, "Professor Snape may not give you detention, thanks to what you're doing for Dumbledore, but once Malfoy runs off to tell him what happened – with a load of extra lies to make it all sound so much worse than it already is – I'll be scrubbing out cauldrons for the next month using my own toothbrush."
Ron chuckled in spite of himself. He was relieved that they were still talking to one another, and on friendly terms…or so it seemed to him. He had worried that his rejection of her offers to help would have led her to once again avoid or ignore him.
"I promise, Hermione. I'll take care of it."
Sunday morning at breakfast, Ron was given his chance to make good on his promise. As Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny sat at the end of the Gryffindor table eating their morning meal and talking amongst themselves, Professor Snape approached them in a flourish of black robes with a wickedly grinning Malfoy in tow.
"Weasley, Granger, stand up," Snape ordered curtly, his dark goatee quivering as he spoke. Ron and Hermione shared a look before doing as the Potions master said. "Mr. Malfoy has informed me that the two of you were outside of your posted patrol area last night and when he and Miss Parkinson attempted to question you about the situation the two of you attacked him and Miss Parkinson."
"Mr. Malfoy is a bloody wanker who needs to learn to keep his filthy little mouth shut," Ron growled, looking over Snape's shoulder and shooting a death-glare at the blonde Slytherin.
"Ten points from Gryffindor for language, Weasley," Snape hissed, "You should take your own advice about keeping your mouth shut."
Hermione grabbed Ron's arm as if to quiet him down before he got himself…or the both of them…in even more trouble. "It's true, Professor, that we were off our normal route last night…but before we could explain ourselves to them, Draco and Pansy pulled their wands and started threatening us."
"Obviously, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson had reason to believe that you would behave hostilely towards them," Snape said, sounding bored with Hermione's explanation, "They pulled their wands for their own protection, no doubt."
"Their protection?!" Hermione exclaimed, exasperated, "Malfoy all but admitted to attacking Ron outside of Hogsmeade last month!"
"Mr. Malfoy has already been questioned concerning Weasley's accident," Snape sneered at Hermione, "And he has two witnesses who will vouch for his whereabouts. Now, if you will stop stalling, we can get to the matter…and the punishment…at hand."
Ron grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her back, giving her a quick look as if to tell her to shut up and let him handle things as he stepped between her and Snape. He glared at the Potions master and jutted his chin out defiantly before speaking up.
"I broke the little ferret's nose, and I'll bloody well do it again, too," Ron admitted, shooting a significant look of menace towards Malfoy, "As for Pansy…she was born with that face, you can't blame us for that."
Ginny and Neville, as well as other nearby students at the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables laughed at Ron's comment about Pansy, making Snape just look angrier as he stood face-to-face with Ron.
"Twenty-five points from Gryffindor for cheek," the Potions master sneered at Ron, "And I hope you've eaten your fill, Weasley; you'll be coming with me for detention…now."
Snape had just turned with a flourish of his black robes and was about to stride away, when he turned back to face Hermione.
"Oh, and Miss Granger…fifty points from Gryffindor for whatever part you played in the attack on Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson. A know-it-all such as yourself should have known better. Come, Weasley."
Ron growled as he reached down and threw a handful of sausages into a napkin and stuffed them in his pocket. He gave Hermione a halfhearted smile and waved at Neville and Ginny before heading off to face whatever detention the vindictive head of Slytherin had come up with for him.
By the time Ron returned the to Gryffindor common room, he was exhausted. Snape had kept him locked up in the Potions classroom for twelve straight hours…the length of time it took Ron to clean the classroom from top to bottom.
He knew he was in for it when Snape led him away from the Great Hall; there had never been any love lost between Ron and the Potions professor, and after the last detention he'd served with Snape, they were even more adversarial to each other; a situation which only worsened when Ron dungbombed the Slytherin common room.
As Ron took a look at the Potions dungeon, he knew Snape was extracting a measure of revenge, not only for him breaking Malfoy's nose the night before, but also for the prank he had previously gone unpunished for. When Snape handed him a bucket of water and an old scrub brush and told him "no magic", Ron knew he had a long day ahead of him.
A thick layer of viscous, foul-smelling slime covered the floor, walls, and ceiling, and every single cauldron in the room was encrusted with a dried, crunchy layer of the stuff, as though the slime had been cooking unattended in each of the cauldrons for hours until all the liquid had boiled away and the remains were left to burn.
The scene reminded him of the first and only time the twins had attempted to cook dinner for the family. It had been soup which covered the walls, ceiling, and floor of the Burrow's cramped kitchen back then, instead of whatever the glop was that Ron would have to clean, but it was a similar visual. Of course, he suspected this would be much more difficult to clean than the twins' attempt at pea soup.
He was correct in his assumption. It had taken Ron the better part of twelve straight hours to clean the slime from every surface in the room. It had been difficult and disgusting, and even though he hadn't eaten since breakfast, the sight and smell of the goo he'd been cleaning had turned his stomach and left him without an appetite.
When he reached the common room, exhausted and filthy, all he wanted to do was crawl up the stairs to his dorm and pass out. Dinner was under way in the Great Hall, and the common room was all but deserted. The only person he encountered was Hermione, who had apparently been waiting for him. She ran up to him as soon as he made it through the portrait hole, and he knew sleep was still a long way off.
"There you are! Have you been in detention this whole ti—…oh, you stink!" Hermione covered her mouth and nose with her hand and took a step back from him.
"Cheers," he replied with a tired smile.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled by her hand, "But…"
"I know," he nodded, "I'm just gonna grab a shower and then get some sleep."
"Wait!"
Ron had turned and was about to head for the boys' staircase when Hermione called out to him. He turned, looking at her curiously, because she wore an expression that seemed one part desperation, one part excitement. However, his unfortunate stench was still too much for her and she clapped her hand over her face again, moving quickly around a table to put some distance between them.
"Stay there," Hermione said, reaching into her pocket with her free hand. She brought out a neatly folded piece of parchment, placed it on the table, and slid it across towards Ron, "Stay there…but read that."
Ron frowned slightly as he picked up the parchment. He was tired and he, too, was repulsed by the stench, so he really wanted to get a shower and some sleep, but since she had obviously been waiting for him to arrive, Ron decided to humor Hermione.
"After breakfast, I went to the library and did some more research on basilisks," Hermione explained as he unfolded the parchment, "I found that information in an ancient text on magical creatures from around the world; I thought it might be useful to you."
Ron looked down at the parchment in his hand; he recognized it immediately. It was the very same page that he and Harry had pried from Hermione's petrified fingers back in Second Year.
"You tore this out of a book," Ron said, looking almost mesmerized by the page in his hand. He was referring to what had happened in the other dimension, but Hermione didn't know that.
"I most certainly did not!" she said indignantly, "I would never defile a book by ripping out a page…especially one of the ancient texts in the school library. I used a spell to copy it."
He looked up, almost ready to correct her and explain what he meant; he was so tired, he was having a hard time concentrating on what was real and what was the role he had to play. The look on Hermione's face shut him up; she was expectant and hopeful…she really was trying to help.
"I've read this before, Hermione," he told her, refolding the page and holding it out for her to take, "I really don't see how helpful it will be."
"Just listen, then," she said, taking the paper, unfolding it, and reading it aloud.
"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live 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."
"If you think I'm gonna follow the bloody spiders again, you can forget it," Ron said, tiredly rubbing his eyes once she had finished reading, "I'm not about to offer those things another chance at making a meal out of me."
"What are you talking about spiders?" Hermione asked, looking at him bemusedly, "Didn't you hear what I said? The basilisk flees from the crowing of the rooster because it will kill it."
"Roosters? That's bloody men—" Ron cut himself off as something from Second Year flashed through his head. Hagrid's roosters kept being killed. The half-giant thought it was either a fox or a Blood-Sucking Bugbear…but it had been Ginny…killing roosters because they could kill the basilisk. "Bloody Hell! How can something so simple…? It really is mental! Roosters!"
Hermione smiled in satisfaction as she watched Ron. "I told you I could help."
Ron nodded. There had never been a shadow of a doubt in his mind that Hermione could help. He knew her far too well to doubt her ability to be of help to him on his mission. If it were up to him…and Hermione wouldn't be placed in harm's way…it would be their mission.
"You were a huge help, 'Mione," Ron said, doing his best to make sure she knew he appreciated her efforts, "There's just one problem; I don't think Hagrid'll be too keen on lending me one of his roosters. And even if he does, hauling a live rooster through the castle isn't what you call inconspicuous."
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. "You never pay attention in Professor McGonagall's class, do you?"
She waved her wand at one of the pillows on a nearby couch and called out a spell incantation. The pillow immediately transformed into a live rooster and began frantically running around the common room flapping its wings and making an awful racket. It took them several minutes to catch the thing so Hermione could change it back.
"See? It's easy," Hermione said with a tired grin, brushing feathers out of her hair as she sat heavily on the couch.
Ron shook his head. Easy for Hermione was often far from easy for normal people; it was just one of the things he admired about her. He pulled his wand from his pocket. "You'd better show me that spell again; I'm going to need to practice it 'til I get it right."
"I'll help you for as long as it takes," Hermione said, getting to her feet, "But first, you have to do me a favor."
Ron narrowed his eyes, leery of what sort of favor she could ask of him. "What is it?"
"Go take a shower…now."
They practiced what Ron came to call the "Chicken Spell" – much to Hermione's chagrin – for the rest of the night. This eventually led to a common room full of disgruntled Gryffindors once everyone returned from dinner, with the possible exception of the twins. However, Ron and Hermione continued at it until he could cast the spell reliably on his own nearly every time he tried it.
By the time Ron fell, exhausted, into his bed, his mind was abuzz with nervous excitement for his journey into the Chamber. He quickly fell asleep, though his mind continued to dwell on what lay ahead of him; his dreams were full of images of him battling the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, including one in which he rode in on a giant rooster like a knight on horseback.
Morning came much too quickly for Ron's liking, and he dragged his feet getting dressed. Neville, Dean, and Seamus had all left the dorm by the time Ron was tying his shoes. He checked the clock, assuring himself that most students would already be in the Great Hall eating breakfast. He then took out the Marauders' Map to make sure that was actually the case.
As usual, the garbled name tag that represented Harry Potter was absent from mealtime in the Great Hall, and was absent from every visible room in the castle; Ron would have to wait for his name to appear.
It wasn't until about five minutes before the day's first class that Harry appeared on the map, seeming to just suddenly pop into existence inside the second floor girls' bathroom. Ron watched the map as Harry left Moaning Myrtle's loo and headed off to his first period.
Once he was sure Harry was out of the way, Ron began packing his beat-up old rucksack with the equipment he would need for his mission: the map, a blindfold he'd transfigured from an old tie, and a balled-up old jumper he would transfigure into a rooster when he reached the Chamber. He shoved the notes on the three spells – Magnum's Stunner, Sight of the Unseeing, and the Chicken Spell – into his pocket along with his wand for ready access. He swung the invisibility cloak over himself and did his best to hide his Cleansweep beneath it.
It was an awkward journey down from Gryffindor tower. He'd never tried concealing such an unwieldy object as a broom under the cloak before. Ordinarily, he would just sling the broom over his shoulder, but doing so this time would lead to a broom seeming to mysteriously float down around the castle.
Soon enough, though, Ron was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, staring at the sink that concealed the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. The etched snake on the copper tap immediately caught his eye. He hadn't had the opportunity to practice this part of his plan, and he really didn't know if it was going to work.
He thought back to the noises he'd heard Harry make when opening the entrance to the Chamber. Taking a deep breath he made what he thought was the right sound.
"Heshaaasssa!"
Nothing happened. He tried again.
"Hessssssassshah!"
Again, nothing happened. He tried six more times, but each time, the entrance to the Chamber didn't open. He was getting frustrated. All his preparations would be for nothing if he couldn't get the entrance to open up for him.
He took a step back from the sink and breathed deeply, trying to relax. He pictured Harry standing in front of the sink, hissing at it in Parseltongue. Eyes closed, still visualizing what he'd seen and heard, Ron tried one more time.
"Hessshasssssah…"
He jumped back at the sound of stone scraping on stone as the sink started to move, revealing the large open pipe leading far below the school. He'd done it; he'd managed to open the Chamber of Secrets. His feeling of triumph was tinged with a feeling of dread as now he really would be going down into the Chamber; he really would be walking headlong into the lair of the basilisk.
Kneeling down by the opening, Ron slid his broom in first, listening as the wood clanked and rattled around on its way down the long, dark pipe. He pulled his wand out and lit the tip, wanting to at least be able to see during his own descent down the pipe.
He took off the invisibility cloak and tucked it inside his rucksack, not wanting it to get damaged or come off and get lost during his fall. Ron hugged his bag and his wand close to his just as he moved into position.
Ron swung his legs into the gaping pipe opening, took a deep breath, and then hopped in. It was a tighter fit than he remembered, but, then, it had been three years. Once he was fully inside the pipe, gravity took over and things started to feel like he had expected.
It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. In the light of his wand, Ron caught sight of other, smaller pipes branching off of the one he was hurtling down, none of which were even close to the size of the one he was in. Ron grunted as the pipe began to twist and turn until it was angled so steeply that Ron plummeted straight down into the bowels of the castle, far below even the deepest of the school's dungeons.
After falling for what seemed like miles, the pipe finally leveled off and Ron shot out of the end with a wet thud. He landed roughly on the damp floor of a dark, stone tunnel that seemed all too familiar.
Ron got to his feet, covered in slime, raising his wand and taking a look around in the dim light at the tip. His Cleansweep lay near his feet, also covered in slime; Ron retrieved the broom and took stock of his surroundings. Despite the light cast by the Lumos spell, Ron could only see a short distance ahead.
"Never thought I'd be down here again," Ron said to himself as his mind drifted back to Second Year when he, Harry, and an unwilling Gilderoy Lockhart had made the journey in search of Ron's sister, "But, then again, I never thought any of the rubbish I've been through since coming here would happen."
The sound of Ron's voice as he talked to himself was the only sound to be heard as he started off down the tunnel, just as he had years before. And, just as had happened years before, the deafening sound of silence soon gave way to the unsettling noise of small animal bones crunching under his feet the further he went.
Ron moved further and further down the tunnel, cringing with every bone-crunching step he took. As eerie as this place had seemed back in Second Year, it seemed even moreso now that he was down here all alone.
He soon came upon a monstrous snake skin stretched across the tunnel, and even though he had expected to see it, it still sent a tingle of fear rippling through him and made his heart beat faster. This is where his journey had ended in Second Year; when Lockhart had grabbed his wand and tried to Obliviate him and Harry, the broken wand had backfired and caused a cave-in, and only Harry had been able to go forward. Now, however, it was Ron's turn.
There hadn't been a cave-in here, so unlike before, Ron had a clear path ahead of him. Steeling himself for what might be around the next turn, Ron set off into unfamiliar territory, marching determinedly forward towards the Chamber of Secrets.
Ron followed the tunnel for what seemed like forever; it twisted and turned and twisted again, rather like the coils of a giant snake. The further he went, the more his whole body tingled nervously with anxious anticipation. He was wishing for the Chamber to appear already, while at the same time dreading actually reaching it for fear of what awaited him within.
After following the path of the winding tunnel for what felt to Ron like miles, he rounded one final bend and found himself looking straight ahead at a solid wall with carvings of two entwined serpents, their eyes set with great, shiny emeralds.
He'd heard about this wall from Harry; behind it lay the Chamber of Secrets. He knew what he had to do to open it, but first Ron prepared himself. He unpacked the invisibility cloak from his rucksack and donned it quickly, making sure that his broom remained hidden as well. He then pulled the blindfold from the bag and covered his eyes with it.
"Caecus Visum!"
Ron cast the Sight of the Unseeing spell and immediately was able to see once more despite the blindfold across his eyes. The momentary sense of vertigo washed over him and was gone much more rapidly this time, thanks to his practice with the spell.
He approached the wall and ran his hand over the snakes, a shiver traveling down his spine. Just as he'd done up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, he began imitating the sounds of Parseltongue. It only took Ron half as long to find the right series of sounds to get the snakes to part, the wall to crack open, and then slide smoothly out of sight.
Shaking from head-to-toe and battling with the combined sensation of wanting to vomit and wet himself at the same time, Ron took a deep breath and stepped inside the Chamber of Secrets.
Ron found himself standing at the very beginning of an extremely long, dimly lit chamber. The place was huge, and great stone pillars entwined with more carved snakes towered above him, disappearing up into the darkness above him where they supported the ceiling he couldn't see. The massive columns cast long black shadows through the eerie greenish gloom that filled the chamber.
There was no immediate sign of the basilisk, but the chamber was so large and so much of it was shrouded in darkness that the monstrous snake could have been lying in wait, just out of sight.
Ron took a step, wincing as the sound of his footsteps echoed loudly off the walls as he moved between the serpentine columns. He felt as though the carved stone snakes were watching him with their hollow, empty eye-sockets, and more than once he'd jumped upon thinking he saw one move.
He turned quickly and aimed his wand into the darkness when he thought he heard something hiss amidst the shadows. He held his breath and listened intently, but didn't hear anything again, so he chalked it up to nerves and continued on.
As Ron made his way to the last pair of massive pillars, he came upon a great stone statue standing against the back wall, looming above him as high as the chamber itself. The statue was of a wizard with an ancient, monkey-ish-looking face and think beard that nearly reached the bottom of the statue's stone robes.
"Salazar Slytherin sure was an ugly old bastard," Ron said to himself as he craned his neck to look up at the statue's face.
Ron had heard all about the Chamber two years ago, so he knew what to expect…even if it was still spine-tinglingly creepy. He knew about the columns, the stone snakes, and even the statue. However, the description he'd been given at the end of Second Year failed to mention what could only be called a throne sitting directly between the statue's massive feet, looking as it if was created from the very stone of the chamber floor. The description he'd received had also failed to mention the dark tunnel leading off to who knows where to the left of the throne, and a series of niches carved into the wall to the right of the throne.
These all seemed like important points of interest to Ron, but he could see how Harry might have forgotten to mention them; he had just been running and fighting for his life and the life of Ginny. Still, the niches especially seemed interesting enough to merit a mention, considering the strange collection of items sitting in them.
Ron cautiously approached the niches in the wall, furrowing his brow at the items within. It was like some sort of twisted trophy shelf; each of the five items in the niches seemed mangled in some way: a ring, a cup, a necklace, a headband of some sort, and a book that Ron recognized immediately as Tom Riddle's diary.
"He's got a bloody knickknack shelf down here," Ron said as he examined each of the items closely. With the exception of Riddle's very ordinary-looking diary, each of the items looked important…if you ignored the fact that they were cracked, melted, warped, or in some other way deformed. He had no idea what the items were…or why they'd be displayed in such a manner when they were in such disrepair.
Ron picked the diary up out of its niche, noticing immediately that it was in much the same condition as the other items. The pages were warped, as if they'd been left to soak in water for some time. The leather cover was cracked and pieces were flaking off. The entire book had a singed look to it, like it had been placed too close to a fire.
Ron stuffed the book into his rucksack and was about to turn and leave when a sudden notion struck him. For whatever reason, these broken bits of jewelry and whatnot seemed important…otherwise, why put them on display? Whether they were important to Harry or to You-Know-Who, he wasn't sure, but they were important to someone. As a result, Dumbledore might want to get a closer look at them.
Before he could change his mind, Ron began stuffing the other items into his rucksack. He was just about to turn and make his way back out of the Chamber when a chilling sound filled the air; the sound of footsteps.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you to keep your hands off things that don't belong to you?"
Author's End Notes: There you have part one of Ron's journey into the Chamber. Hope everyone enjoyed it. The next chapter is up in two weeks!
And before I forget, MIRROR, MIRROR was nominated for Best AU fic for the 2009 R/Hr Awards over on LiveJournal! I'm totally stoked about that, and would personally like to thank whomever it was who nominated me.