Harry shuddered as he took his first steps on the hard, stone floor. Even with Samantha's wand partially illuminating the dark, dank chamber, the miniscule amount of lighting it offered only allowed the pair to see just a few feet in front of them. The air was chilly and damp, a far cry from the comforts the Horned Serpent common room provided. Even the cool, bone-dry chamber they just came from was preferable to this strange passageway. Harry started to shiver; he took to rubbing his upper arms to combat the unexpected chill.

"Stay close," whispered Samantha. She occasionally waved her illuminated wand up and down, and from side to side, hoping to sidestep the numerous vermin that crawled on the floor. Her pace soon slowed, and Harry realized that they were descending a staircase that only became progressively colder the further they trudged. Some of the steps had small, shallow pools of standing water, and Samantha did her best to side-step them, while Harry parroted her every move.

"I hope wherever you're taking us, is the way out," Harry said. He could see the vapor forming from his breath, owing to the glowing tip of Samantha's wand.

"Me too," admitted Samantha. "I don't know where we are, but something tells me that we're in a place that's not meant for students to tread…" Her lips drew together in a fine line, and her voice fell to a whisper so soft that Harry could just make her words out. "I hope we're not getting in deeper trouble for this."

"It was an accident," replied Harry, his voice surprisingly resolute. "I didn't know that there was a secret passageway… and if Mister Floyd asks questions, we just need to be as up-front and honest with him as possible. While he's by-the-book, he's not a sourpuss like Madam L."

Samantha nodded. "That's true." She sighed. "While I've gotten demerits in the past, this is my first detention… between you and me, I hope this is also my last."

"I'm not a troublemaker either," said Harry. "I don't like breaking rules, and I won't if I can help it… but I also don't like bullying. If a bully has a problem with one of my friends, then they have a problem with me. And I made sure they knew it." He shook his head. "My house head told me to let the faculty deal with bullying going forward, but sometimes… I get the feeling that teachers and coaches just aren't going to settle disputes. At least not in the way they should be settled."

Samantha thought back to several rough moments during her first year. "Trust me, Harry, being bullied sucks. Going to a teacher doesn't really help much – if anything, it makes you more of a target because bullies despise tattle-tales... they'll gang up on you twice as bad the next time."

"The only way to confront a bully is to well, confront them," murmured Harry. "If they push you, you need to push back. It's the only way to earn their respect."

"Yeah, easier said than done," groaned Samantha. "I'm one of the smallest kids in my year – I'm afraid what'll happen if I shove someone half a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than myself."

Harry shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Look at me – I'm not any bigger than you, but if Flynn Replogle shoves me around, you're damn right I'm going to shove back. I don't care if I get a black eye out of it – I'm not going to take it sitting down! And I'll do it every time until he gets it in that thick head of his that I'm not worth the effort."

Samantha's jaw dropped. "Did you say Replogle? Oh, Harry…"

Harry shook his head, confused. "What is it?"

Samantha sighed. "The Replogles are an Old Money family… they're very wealthy and influential. Some of them have held MACUSA cabinet positions. And you're lucky you don't have to share a house with them, because I do. If you think Flynn was bad news, it gets worse. His sister Fayla is in the year ahead of me… she's the queen bee with a gaggle of sycophantic groupies. And then there's Flavius, who's one of our Trustees, and there's no doubt in my mind that he's gunning for Head Boy next year. He doesn't deserve it, but Replogles aren't used to being told 'no'…"

"What exactly are these… Old Money families?" inquired Harry. "I grew up in a magical household, but neither my uncle nor my godfather told me very much about the wizarding world."

"Old Money families are very much like their no-maj counterparts," explained Samantha. "These families have been here since colonial times. Some of them were already wealthy and migrated to escape persecution from magical Europe. Others weren't as well off, but were ambitious and resourceful enough to become independently wealthy, and within a couple of generations these families were fully accepted into the upper crust of American wizarding society. The majority of these families live within a couple hundred miles' of Ilvermorny, though there are a handful of them in the South, namely Virginia and Louisiana."

"Are any other parts of the country represented?" asked Harry. "What about Canada?"

"Not to my knowledge," replied Samantha. "Although Ilvermorny allows anyone from geographical North America to attend, it's dominated by Northeasterners and to a lesser extent, Midwesterners. Ilvermorny is the oldest, largest and most prestigious school of magic in the Western Hemisphere, but it's hardly the only place you can receive a magical education. There are several smaller magical schools in the South, Midwest, and the West… and I'm pretty sure Canada has schools of its own."

Harry shrugged. "All I got was a letter from Ilvermorny. Nobody in Canada ever bothered to express any interest in me."

"They're also smaller schools than Ilvermorny," Samantha elaborated. "Ilvermorny is the only school in North America that can detect traces of unauthorized magic across the continent – 'accidental' magic, if you will. Based on these traces, they can determine which students are eligible to attend and send out acceptance letters once they approach the age of admission. The other schools have much narrower scope, or have none at all. You might have to be a legacy to attend some of the others, for example."

They continued their deliberate hike, deeper, and deeper, and deeper into the eerie tunnel. "How long have we been down here, d'you reckon?" asked Harry.

"Maybe thirty minutes," surmised Samantha as she continued plodding forward. "There's got to be an end to this… I'm getting cold, tired, and hungry… not to mention, a little scared."

"That makes two of us," agreed Harry. "All we can do is keep going forward… the end has to be close." He then blinked. "Wait…" He pointed ahead, and slightly to the right. "Maybe it's just me, but I see a faint light in the distance…"

Samantha's heart fluttered, and barely contained the excited squeak that dared to escape from her lips. "It's not just you… come on, let's pick up the pace!"

The pair lengthened their strides – it was apparent that their eyes weren't playing tricks on them, the faint light increased in luminosity and in size, and just a minute or two later, they found themselves on the outskirts of a large, subterranean grotto. Neither of them were sure where the light source came from, as there was definitely a solid ceiling, so had to have been magical. There were massive sandstone pillars forty feet high, and jagged stalagmites and stalactites interspersed throughout the chamber. On the opposite side of the grotto was a waterfall, which fed into a shallow pool not far from the entrance.

There were two curved staircases which led to archways near the top of the grotto. Both Harry and Samantha agreed that they should stick together, so they would have to decide between the two pathways.

"I have a hunch that the left tunnel will lead us out," Harry declared. "What do you think?"

"In my experience, when there's a fork in the road, it's best to take the right one," countered Samantha.

Harry sighed. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, but as he was already tired, hungry, cold, and lost, he didn't want to add an argument with his companion to his misery. "Oh, all right," he conceded. "We'll take the right staircase." He followed Samantha up the steps and through the archway. Once inside, they saw two more archways, and a large wooden door that appeared to be barricaded shut with several heavy bars.

"I wonder what's behind that door," Harry whispered.

"I'm not sure I want to know," groaned Samantha. "We're already in a place we're not meant to be in… what's behind that door is probably something we're really not meant to see."

Harry studied the door from top to bottom, looking for possible weakness or flaw that might allow him entry. The heavy bars and several locks certainly looked daunting, but there had to be a way to get in. There was something very, very valuable in there he wondered… but what?

"Just forget it, Harry," Samantha muttered. "We just need to get out of here before we get in even more trouble…" As she turned around, she couldn't help but shriek… a huge, crimson-scaled serpent – at least fifteen feet in length – slithered from behind the children. It turned around, and reared up to meet the children at eye level.

It opened its jaws, and a long, forked tongue emerged… it seemed to be actually speaking. A deep, grumbling sound came from its mouth… not quite a hiss, not quite a growl, but whatever it was, it seemed to be less than pleased that there were interlopers in its domain. [What are you doing here?]

Samantha screamed, but Harry covered her mouth with one of his hands. He looked the snake in its yellow, slitted eyes, seemingly able to understand its every word. [My name is Harry. My friend and I were serving detention in the Wand Selection Chamber, and we somehow found a hidden passageway that led us here. We are quite lost. Can you help us?]

Samantha looked at Harry, mouth agape. "What in Merlin's name are you saying, Harry? You can actually talk to that… viper?"

The serpent stared at Samantha for a split-second, before turning back to Harry. [You are unique, Harry. You have the gift of understanding Parseltongue, an ancient language that predates any human tongue by thousands of years. Few of your kind have mastered it; fewer still can do so as a child.] The snake shrank down and coiled itself up in a loose loop. [I am Kyr'thandios, a Typhon. Witches and wizards are right to fear our kind…]

Harry didn't back down. [I've never heard of a Typhon before… what makes them so fearsome?]

The snake raised its head and opened its jaws almost as far as it could. [We're smaller than our mighty cousins, the Basilisk and the many varieties of Dragon, but we are no less potent. Our bites contain a unique venom… one that inhibits magic, itself. If enough of my venom is in your blood… you will never cast another spell again.]

Harry nodded. He knew better than to threaten or anger the snake, so he knew he had to be tactful. [We know we are not supposed to be here. We just want to return to the castle, and we will leave you be. We are a bit lost, though… if you would be so kind as to show us the way out?]

Kyr'thandios raised his head again, and pointed behind him. [Go through the archway behind me. Take the second passageway to your right, and follow it all the way down until you see a metal ladder. Climb to the top of that ladder, and open the hatch above you. That should be the first floor of the castle… oh, now I am getting hungry… your friend is looking rather tasty…]

Harry didn't like the sound of that. He turned to Samantha. "Let's get out of here. Quick," he whispered to her. The two began to make their way through the archway, but the Typhon slithered after them, licking its fangs with its long, forked tongue.

"Aaaaaaagh!" screamed Samantha, holding her ankle. She whipped out her wand. "Flippendo!" It pushed the snake back several feet, buying just enough time for the children to make a run for it.

However, Samantha couldn't keep up for very long. Just as they made their way into the second passageway on the right, she had to stop and hunch over. "I… feel strange," she whispered. "I feel… weak."

"I'm not leaving you, Samantha," Harry said with determination. "We've got to get you upstairs and to the infirmary! I don't want you to lose your magic… come on!" He grabbed her by the hand, and led her down the corridor, but moments later, she fell on her knees, panting.

Harry picked Samantha's right thigh up, and hoisted it over his right shoulder. He let her left arm and leg hang loosely, while he held on to her right arm and leg. He saw the bite above her sock – two large bite marks, oozing with some sort of orange liquid that he didn't recognize. By using the fireman's carry, he managed to get her to the other end of the passageway, and slowly began ascending the ladder. He flipped the latch with his free hand, and pushed it open.

He poked his head through the opening, and found himself in the middle of the first-floor corridor, not far from the Herbology classroom. He didn't even bother closing the trap door, and ran as hard as he could, screaming for anyone to help him. Samantha was still conscious, but barely. Harry clung on to her limp arms and legs – he felt duty-bound to protect her until someone could provide badly-needed medical attention.

Harry hollered at the top of his lungs… surely someone was at the castle on a late Saturday afternoon, he figured. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he caught the unmistakable visage of Mister Floyd in the distance. "Mister Floyd! Mister Floyd! We need your help!"

Floyd turned around, not at all expecting to see the small Harry toting an injured girl over his shoulders.

Harry cleared his throat, then his mouth went a hundred miles an hour, trying to explain everything that happened. "We got lost… I somehow activated a rotating bookshelf and we ended up in this dark underground tunnel… we ran into this snake…"

Floyd held up a hand. "Slow down, son. Just tell me what you need me to help you with."

"Samantha," Harry said between deep breaths. "She got bit… by a typhon. She could… she could lose her magic!"

Floyd's eyes widened. "A typhon? How long ago?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago," Harry replied. He turned slightly, so Floyd could see Samantha's bite marks.

"I'm not going to ask questions," murmured Floyd as he glanced at her wound. "Just return to your common room. I understand this isn't your fault… you did the right thing by seeking help. Now, go." He picked up the little girl and carried her in his arms as easily as a rag doll, and hurried off toward the infirmary.