They practically raced through the school, not caring about how it looked or what other people would think. There were more important things to consider than a stern telling off, something Hermione had once considered impossible. She had breathlessly explained her reasoning as they'd ran out of the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey's angry yells receding in the distance. Harry's eyes had grown wider and wider as she'd unloaded the pieces of the puzzle that her brain had conjured up, as the intricate latticework of what they'd been obsessing over for nearly the entire year showed itself in full for the first time. Well, it wasn't exactly complete just yet. There were players and factors that hadn't revealed themselves so far. They still didn't know why the attacks had been happening, just how they had been possible, and that troubled Harry to a great extent. To such a degree that he didn't see Professor McGonagall in his way as they charged through the corridors. To be fair to the old woman, she remained perfectly upright, showing a surprising amount of strength, whilst Harry was catapulted to the ground, his ego not the only thing that was bruised.

"Potter!" she barked in her customary Scottish brogue. "What on Earth do you think you're doing? Running down the corridors at such a pace!" She seemed more on edge than usual but Harry put that down to the general atmosphere of the school. "And Miss Granger? I would certainly expect more from two of my finest students."

That certainly stunned Harry. He had no idea that he was anywhere near the top of the classroom. Perhaps spending so much time with Hermione and Matthew had paid off. He just wished he had time to actually consider how well he'd done - during his primary school years in the Muggle world, he had never accomplished anything close to top marks. That had partly been down to not wanting to outshine Dudley, out of fear of the repercussions he'd receive, but the Dursleys had also sucked the life out of him by this point that he'd never had the motivation to do well. That was another reason why his friends and Hogwarts were so important to him, for giving him that belief in his own abilities, and was why he couldn't afford it to be closed for the current events.

"And, given the most recent circumstances, I am frankly shocked that you are disobeying such an important rule that is designed to keep you safe." Her arms were crossed but her lip quivering almost imperceptibly showed a crack in her sternness.

"What rule?" Hermione asked. She hadn't heard of any such instruction. And Hermione Granger prided herself on knowing all the rules.

McGonagall took a sharp breath as she scanned the young girl's face, realising there was no deception there. She truly didn't know. "Did you not hear the announcement?" She was almost afraid to get their confirmation but it came nonetheless with synchronised shakes of their heads. "All students have been ordered to go to their dormitories. I was just on my way to retrieve Madam Pomfrey. The wards around the hospital wing tend to interfere with the school-wide announcements."

"That's where we were," Harry explained quickly. "But why is this happening? There hasn't been another attack already, right?"

McGonagall's face was as deathly pale as any of the ghosts floating through Hogwarts. "I shouldn't be telling you this but the headmaster…the former headmaster…always took a shine to your small group. There has been an attack, yes, but not like any of the others. A student has been taken into the fabled Chamber of Secrets."

"No!" they both cried. They were too late. They'd figured it all out but it was going to be in vain if they didn't somehow get to this student in time. And then what would they do? Could they take on a monster, a basilisk, if it truly existed? They were just kids.

"How do you know?" Hermione queried.

"The Heir of Slytherin left another message, above his previous work," the professor told them gravely. "The message itself is too gruesome for me to share with such young minds, but mark my words when I tell you that a life hangs in the balance. It will certainly mean the end of Hogwarts. I don't have the ability to fight something like this off unlike Professor Dumbledore. My hands are tied."

Harry needed more information than this. "Who's the student that's been taken?"

McGonagall seemed to debate whether to tell them but she had already said too much to change her course of action. "Ginny Weasley. One of my lions, no less. Now, please, get to your dormitories. This doesn't concern you anymore. Be assured that we are trying everything in our power to rectify this grievous position. Professor Lockhart has claimed to know where the Chamber lies and has bravely volunteered to venture down into its depths. We best pray that he succeeds, although I don't have much faith. The Express will be here tomorrow to take you back home. I would advise you to pack your bags and hope for a miracle that this night won't be a dark one."

McGonagall marched away, making sure to watch them as they turned the corner, their heads hung as they considered this development. As soon as the professor was out of earshot, Harry spun to face Hermione.

"What do we do?" he hissed. "Why would Ginny be taken to the Chamber of all people? I've hardly noticed her this year. She barely says a word around me."

"Because she's a young girl and you're a celebrity," Hermione pointed out. "You can't blame her for being starstruck."

"You've never been. Even when we first met, you took it completely in your stride. I don't even like being famous!"

"That's not the point. Just because Ginny was quiet around you, doesn't mean that was the same with everyone. She could have spoken to the wrong person. I know all too well how isolating it can be to have no proper friends, especially when you start school. If that was the case, she may have been desperate to talk to anyone ."

"Including the Heir though? Surely she wouldn't be that stupid." Harry realised how blunt he was sounding. "Sorry, I just can't see how someone like that would be involved."

"She doesn't have to be involved. She's likely a victim in this. Perhaps she discovered something she wasn't supposed to. This could be the Heir trying to keep her silent…forever."

"Ron did mention how she had been trying to talk to him about something. What if she was wanting to come clean? I'll whack that idiot when I next see him for being so ignorant." He finished with a growl.

"We can focus on ways to get back at Ronald Weasley for his pigheadedness once we work out a way of saving poor Ginny. I can only imagine how scared she must be right now, all on her own."

"That's if she's still…you know…" Harry couldn't find it within himself to finish the sentence.

"She's alive until we find out otherwise. I think that's the best mindset to have right now."

"So what's the plan then? We know Ginny is in the Chamber and we have a vague idea of where the Chamber is now…does that mean we have to go ourselves? What if we're wrong and Matthew wanted us to come to a different conclusion?"

Hermione's eyes lit up with an idea. "Professor McGonagall said that Professor Lockhart is attempting to go to the Chamber. If we're quick, we might be able to catch him in his office just before he leaves and give him the information we've learnt. That's got to be beneficial."

"McGonagall did tell us to get back to Gryffindor Tower though," Harry reminded her. "It might not be just Ginny down there as a hostage if we don't listen to the orders."

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "Harry James Potter…since when have you ever been a stickler for the rules? I'm surprised that you haven't already started running off, going into the Chamber on your own!"

Harry grinned. "I was just testing you! Look at how far you've come…you're now technically the one encouraging me to disobey strict instructions. Matthew would be so proud. I can't wait to tell him when he wakes up."

"I can't even be annoyed at you because I want Matthew back so desperately," Hermione huffed. "That's not fair!"

They continued on their run through the school with a new destination in mind. It didn't take too long, mainly because the hallways were eerily empty as everyone bunkered down for safety. When they got to Lockhart's office, there seemed to be a lot of activity coming from within: objects scraping along the floor, heavy footsteps, disgruntled murmurings. It only came to a stop when Harry knocked on the door. It opened just a crack and one of Lockhart's eyes, looking wild and dazed, appeared.

When he saw who it was, he allowed the door to open a bit more, but not enough for them to get a good look at what was going on inside. "Oh, Mister Potter, Miss Granger…I would normally be delighted to see you but I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment so if you could just be on your way…"

"Professor," Harry butted in. "We have some information that could really help you."

The half of Lockhart's face they could see appeared very uncomfortable. "Well…um…that's not necessary…but…if you insist…very well then!" He moved away and they were able to open the door fully.

The room was a mess. Trunks lay scattered across the floor, with clothes hastily chucked into random ones. Robes of all colours were scrunched up into haphazard balls, ready to be stored away. Books, moving photographs, fanciful trophies…they were all packed away, making the walls and shelves seem barren and empty. Harry and Hermione looked at the scene of chaos in abject disbelief.

"Are you going somewhere?" Harry asked.

"Er, well…as a matter of fact, I am." He was busy removing a poster of his grinning face, rolling it up to go in one of the many boxes. It was quite amazing how much personal paraphernalia one person could have of themselves. "Drastically urgent business. Completely unavoidable. Kids your age simply wouldn't understand."

"But…you're supposed to be saving Ginny Weasley!" Hermione shouted. It was the first time she had ever raised her voice to someone in a position of authority and it was strangely exhilarating. She just couldn't accept how someone could do something like this. Something so…underhanded.

"That's an awful tragedy that no one could have seen coming. I don't think anyone is more upset than me that I was unable to do anything to prevent her untimely demise." He couldn't meet their eyes as he ransacked the drawers in his desk, shoving everything into any container he could find.

"You're the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor!" Harry rightly reminded him. "You can't go just as dark things start to happen!"

"There was nothing in my contract that stipulated anything of this magnitude," Lockhart said, pointing a finger at them as if he was the victim. "I wouldn't have taken the job otherwise."

"You're running away? Matthew was right. You're nothing more than a smarmy, poncy buffoon!" Hermione was red in the cheeks with anger. How much time had she spent defending this idiot, only for it to blow up right in her face in the most spectacular of ways.

"After all the things you did in your books, and you're choosing to flee instead," Harry pressed on.

Hermione gave him a quick glance. "I'm starting to think that those books were very misleading."

"But he wrote them!"

"My dear boy," Lockhart murmured with a click of his tongue. "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 wonky lip. I mean, come on. At least, in this, their endeavours could be known to the entire wizarding community!"

"But they're not! You've been taking credit for what other people have done? That's awful!"

"That's business. And it's not as simple as you're making it sound. There's a great deal of work involved. I had to track these people down and ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did, once I'd convinced them to give me the time of day. Try looking at someone's warty face and pretending to be interested. That's called proper acting!" Lockhart looked as if he expected them to be impressed, but they were far from it. "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 to put in the hard yards."

The professor slammed a trunk shut and tapped a finger against his chin. "Now then…that seems to be everything. Well, apart from the obvious." He had his wand pointing at them before they could comprehend what was happening. "Like I said, I love a memory charm. You can't expect me to let you leave here and blab your mouths about the truth . No one ever wants the truth. It's something I've learnt over the years so consider it a valuable lesson. Not that you'll remember it, of course."

Lockhart raised his wand slowly, cockily, giving Hermione the time she needed to rapidly consider her options. With a slight sense of panic, she flicked her wand towards the nearest object she could see. "Accio trophy!" she yelled. She had intended for one trophy to soar through the air. But the panic had impacted her finesse and the professor had a lot of trophies. They flew from the boxes and stacks littered around them, shooting towards the dumbfounded Lockhart. In a whirlwind of golden metallic smiles (and one obscene rear of the year award), they saw him fall to the ground in a heap. When the chaos ended, they looked down at him, unconscious, his wand a few feet from him now.

Harry looked at his friend with wide eyes. Hermione gave him a sheepish look in response. "I didn't really intend for that to happen. I wasn't as precise as I should have been really. Do you think he's okay?"

"Who cares?" Harry retorted with a shocked grin. "That was amazing, Hermione! I can't believe he was about to do that and you…this'll go down in Hogwarts history."

"If Hogwarts survives past today." It was a sombre reminder.

"Lockhart was supposedly our only hope. And he was lying about everything. He was going to run away and leave us in the lurch."

"I don't think he would have been able to do anything," Hermione said in disgust. "Judging from the fact that he's never achieved anything personally. Any feats he claimed as his own were fabrications. A basilisk would have destroyed him in an instant. We've done him a favour. Frankly, we'd stand a better chance of getting the job done."

Harry's eyes were alight immediately. "Then let's prove it."

Hermione's mouth hung open. "You can't be serious. Wait…it's you…of course you're serious about this. We're kids. We can't take on a giant serpent!"

"It might be out if we're lucky. Come on, it's not as if the professors would be able to do much more. Only Dumbledore could realistically take it on and he's not here. We've already wasted enough time dealing with this fraud, time that Ginny Weasley might not have. I wish I could say that I'll go alone but I need you by my side. Desperately."

Hermione bit her lip. "I suppose it worked out last year."

By the time they reached the bathroom, Hermione was well and truly regretting that decision. She was sure that this was the spot that Matthew had been alluding to, which wasn't pleasing her as much as it should. If they were right, that meant taking on an overgrown snake that you couldn't look at. That wasn't a big incentive. But, as they entered and saw Moaning Myrtle languishing in the far cubicle, something in her gut was telling her that they were on the right track.

"What are you two doing here again?" the ghost asked in her typically waily voice. "And what happened to that annoying friend of yours? Did you finally ditch him? Took you long enough."

Hermione bristled at the comment and found her hand itching towards her wand, which wasn't a usual response coming from her normally level-headed mind. She put it down to the stress of the situation, and the pain of losing her close friend. Harry was amazing and filled a role that Matthew just couldn't do, but then Matthew was someone she could speak to without judgement and with complete understanding. She needed one of those chats right now, where he could show the strange wisdom he was imbued with. But it was Harry who was showing a similar level of wisdom now as he placed a hand on her arm, preventing her from doing anything stupid.

"We want to know how you died," Harry responded simply, as if it were a perfectly normal question to ask.

Myrtle's demeanour changed in an instant. "Oh, it was dreadful," she said with a gleeful grin. "It happened right here, in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses, though that wasn't particularly out of the ordinary. 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 because this was mine , and then…I died. It happened so quickly."

"How?" Hermione pressed, her curiosity building.

"I don't know. All I remember is seeing a pair of monstrous yellow eyes. I could feel my body seizing up but was powerless to do anything about it. I floated away but not for long. Those who had bullied me for years were about to get a taste of their own medicine."

"Those eyes…can you remember where exactly you saw them?" Harry wondered.

Myrtle looked displeased that they weren't focusing on her as much as she would have liked. It wasn't very often that she got to talk about herself. She pointed lazily towards the sinks. "Somewhere over there. It's never worked so I wouldn't pay too much attention to it."

Harry and Hermione rushed over there instantly. From first appearances, it looked frustratingly ordinary. They turned taps, they looked under the basins, they even checked the rusted pipes that connected them all. And then Harry saw it. So miniscule that he would have missed it on another day. Scratched into the old porcelain was a slithering snake. Hermione's eyes were wide when he showed it to her.

"Say something in parseltongue," she instructed eagerly.

He concentrated hard on the crude picture. Whenever he'd spoken to snakes before, they had been real. That was only how he could show off this skill. His first try, he spoke in clear English, though in an odd accent that he was probably just putting on. The second time, however, as he focused intensely on how the candlelight made it seem like the snake was wriggling around, a cold hiss escaped his lips. The tap glowed brightly and spun around, followed by the sink collapsing in on itself, exposing a large pipe below. A pipe big enough for someone to slide down.

Harry made to jump down it but Hermione had a firm hand on his chest. He looked at her scandalously. "I have to do this, Hermione! Now that we've found the entrance and know that Ginny is down there."

Hermione rolled her eyes and poked him with her wand. He suddenly felt all tingly for a few seconds. "A cushioning charm. Remember last year and the trapdoor? Matthew taught me the spell after I bugged him for a few hours. I'm not stopping you from doing this. I'm coming with you though."

Harry was never going to argue with her. He scooted over to the edge of his pipe, dangling his legs into the darkness and, with a deep breath, pushed himself off. It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. Behind him he could hear Hermione, thudding slightly at the curves, screaming endlessly. And then, just as he had begun to worry about whether Matthew had taught Hermione the charm properly, the pipe levelled out, and he was sent flying onto a wet, stone floor. He was covered in slime and smelled quite horrendous, but he had survived. Hermione joined him a few seconds later, landing with the same level of grace as him. He held out a hand to help her up, which she was grateful for.

"Have I told you that you're amazing lately?" he asked. "That charm worked a treat. It was actually fun going down there."

Even in the darkness, he could see Hermione blushing. "We must be miles underneath the school. Again. Why must we always end the year like this?"

"It's almost becoming our very own tradition," Harry quipped. He gazed at the never ending darkness ahead of them. "Lumos," he whispered, bringing some light into the equation. Hermione followed suit but, even then, they could barely see anything ahead of them. "Come on…no time to lose. And remember, any sign of movement and close your eyes straight away. I'm not losing someone else to it."

But there was no sign of movement whatsoever. They were completely alone down there, save for the animal bones littering the floor that Harry had the misfortune of standing on. Neither of them mentioned their fears of what Ginny would look like in a similar state. They kept on walking until, up ahead, a large shape loomed into view. It was long and curved but, most importantly, it wasn't moving. Harry, trying to act braver than he was actually feeling, was the one who stepped closest towards it, shining his illuminated wand over the odd obstacle. It was a snake skin, empty and ghastly, evidently shed by a monstrous serpent. It seemed to support their theory of the monster being a basilisk. But it was even bigger than they had imagined.

"Imagine something of this size being the last thing you ever say," Harry said meekly. "And Matthew actively went out of his way to face it."

"Yes, I'll be reminding him of how utterly stupid he was doing that when he wakes up," Hermione retorted, her voice shaking slightly. "Although we're the ones now doing exactly the same thing. What does that say about us?"

The tunnel kept turning, weaving around just like a snake would slither. They were anxious for the passageway to finally reach its end and yet dreaded what would await them when they reached that point. But they weren't given much longer to anticipate that fate as, going around one final bend, they were met with the sight of a solid stone wall. Multiple serpents were carved into the structure, intertwined around one another as they laced around the edges of a circular imprint. Harry's throat was incredibly dry. He was questioning their decision to do this without having one last meal. He might have been more comfortable if he'd washed a pumpkin juice down his throat.

"I think it's a door," Hermione pointed out. "But there's no handle. And I don't especially want to be touching one of those snakes. I feel like one could easily twitch its head and snap at me at any moment."

"I know what you mean," Harry concurred. "It's the eyes. They feel…alive somehow. Like they're watching us."

"Perhaps it's an ancient form of a security system, telling whoever's inside that they have visitors."

"I dread to think who's watching us then. If there's no handle, there's only one obvious option." He stared unwillingly at the snakes, hardly having to do much work to imagine them slithering around him. With another hiss, he instructed the door to open and, with a heavy thud, a mechanism could be heard turning within. The snakes began to move and an almighty scraping sound could be heard as the door slowly prised itself open, revealing another dark tunnel ahead of them. As they began to walk through it, the darkness faded away ever so slightly, unveiling a massive stone chamber. Pillars rose to unimaginable heights, somehow reaching the far off ceiling. They were decorated with snakes too. At least Salazar Slytherin kept to a theme. Harry wondered whether the pillars were large enough to obscure the basilisk. But something that giant would struggle to sneak up on anything. Then again, hadn't it been doing that all year? He kept his footsteps soft to try to hear any unexpected sounds just in case.

Hermione had her wand gripped tightly and moved forward ahead of him, scouting the hidden spaces between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls and they winced internally every time. Harry kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, he thought he saw one stir and had been close to shouting at Hermione to duck for cover. It was all about keeping his cool. Then, as they drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above. It was a mighty monument to a ferocious wizard, whose features loomed down upon them, a dark frown etched forever on its pale face.

"I'm not that surprised that Salazar was a narcissist," Harry commented, attempting to ease the tension. "Do you think he made this himself or would he have commissioned an artist? I wouldn't have wanted to be that artist in that case."

"Harry," Hermione said quietly and nervously. "Look." She pointed towards the spot where Slytherin's chin met the floor. Draped across the stone slabs was a bundle of black robes, fairly small, where a brilliant flash of red hair could be made out.