Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Fawkes the Phoenix.
Parts of this chapter are quoted from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
A/N: Good news, everyone! At least for a little while, I am going back to weekly updates! (Not on any specific story, but in general.) You see, I wrote 10,000 words yesterday, and that's given me something I haven't had in longer than I can remember: a buffer.
To be honest, I would have had this chapter done weeks, maybe months ago, but I hit serious writer's block figuring out how the Chamber sequence would go down. Anyway, here it is. There are two more chapters to this story, and then, fingers crossed, the rest of the Dramatic Reading series. And Animagus at War is not dead. Stories have come back after longer breaks than that one, and I can at least see through to the point of that being the only fanfic on my plate, so stay tuned!
Chapter 3
Easter holidays approached, and still, there were no more attacks. Parvati dared believe that maybe the Heir really had given up. It didn't seem like anything had changed, but who knew? Maybe Dumbledore had done something and just not said anything. Did anyone really know what Dumbledore got up to?
Meanwhile, one day, Professor McGonagall told the Gryffindor Second-Years that they needed to choose their elective classes for the coming year. Parvati didn't know for sure what classes she wanted to take besides Divination, which she and Lavender shared an interest in. Padma had some interest in the subject, but said she also wanted to try Study of Ancient Runes, since it seemed like learning multilingual magic could be a big advantage. (Given what Papa said about Parseltongue, that made sense, although the class wouldn't help them with that.) Hermione just signed up for all of the classes and refused to respond to anyone who asked her, "Can you even do that?"
After they'd been working at it for a week, and half the class still didn't know what to choose, Harry came up to her. "Hey, Parvati, do you know what classes you're signing up for?" he asked.
"Oh, hi, Harry," she said. "So, Lavender and I are both signing up for Divination. It would be great being able to predict the future." Maybe they could figure out who Slytherin's Heir was then, although she really hoped the crisis didn't last into next year. "And I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures for sure. It sounds like a lot of fun. And Padma's trying to convince me to take Ancient Runes with her, but I don't know about that."
Harry slumped in the seat next to her. "I don't know what to take," he groaned.
"Yes, it sounds like a lot of people are having that problem. Have you read much about the subjects?"
"Only the pamphlets Professor McGonagall gave us. Other than that, I pretty much don't know anything, growing up with muggles and all."
"Well, you definitely don't need Muggle Studies, then," Parvati said, and thought for a bit. "How do you feel about maths? That seems to be the next thing people ask about."
"I can do it," he said. "I've never been excited about it."
"Hm, maybe not Arithmancy, then. I mean, you shouldn't write it off just because of that, but if there are other things you like better…are you good with animals?"
"They're okay. Hedwig's great," he said with a grin. "As long as they're not my Aunt Marge's bulldog."
"Well, you know what I'm taking. I think it'll be good. You can talk to Padma about Ancient Runes. And you can take three elective classes if you want. Heck, Hermione's taking all five, but she's crazy—no offence."
"Eh, I don't think I want to take any more classes than I have to. I'd rather drop Potions if I could."
"Ha, wouldn't we all? Anyway, good luck with it, Harry."
The other thing that happened around Easter holidays was that Quidditch was restarted. This wasn't personally exciting to Parvati at first glance. The teams were given a couple weeks to practice first, which mainly just affected them. And then, Slytherin and Ravenclaw were to play in late April. But after that, it was a rapid-fire schedule, moving right into Gryffindor-Hufflepuff at the beginning of May. Though she didn't appreciate until the day of the match how much Slytherin vs Ravenclaw proved to be an exciting event for the school as a whole, as it signalled a return to normalcy in many people's minds.
That was a good start, but the day of the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match was even more raucous within Gryffindor House, in part driven by Oliver Wood's fanatical enthusiasm. Harry was as excited as anyone, since he hadn't got to play since November (and had come out of that match with his arm de-boned as it was). Even Padma was getting into it too. (Since Ravenclaw wasn't playing, she was fine with rooting for Gryffindor today.)
That Saturday dawned bright and sunny, and there was an air of excitement throughout the school. Parvati overheard Wood talking about how they were perfect Quidditch conditions, and the rest of the team were also strategizing. Everything seemed normal at breakfast. The Quidditch players left early to get their gear—
And then, she heard a voice—a terrifying voice.
It was unnaturally deep—big. It was loud—loud enough to hear over the noise of the Great Hall, if only for a few moments. But if anyone else heard it, they didn't know what they were hearing because it was also in Parseltongue. And it was murderous.
"Kill this time…let me rip…tear…"
Parvati turned around and stared at Padma, who stared back with wide eyes. It definitely wasn't her sister's voice, and she'd heard it too. From the look on her face, Parvati could tell she'd identified it as the same thing: a very, very big snake.
Both of them realised several things at once. Obviously, there was a big, dangerous snake on the loose—or else a Parselmouth roaming around with murderous intent, which if anything was even worse. The voice could be Slytherin's monster (a snake would make sense, after all), and if so, that meant the Heir was probably looking for someone to attack. If the snake wasn't Slytherin's monster, then it meant there was still a big, dangerous, and hungry snake slithering around Hogwarts, and even at Hogwarts, that wasn't the kind of thing that just happened.
The next thing they realised was Harry. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams had just left to head down to the pitch, which meant Harry could be walking right into it.
Discretion forgotten, Parvati and Padma both jumped up and ran to the Entrance Hall. Luckily, Harry was still there when they reached it. He was standing there with Ron and straining as if listening for the voice. They hadn't counted on Ron, but there was no time. In unspoken agreement, they kept going.
"Harry, did you hear it?" Parvati said in a low voice.
"Did you hear the snake?" Padma added.
"A snake?" Harry and Ron said simultaneously.
"Yes, there was a bloody giant snake, and it's hungry!" Padma snapped. "Didn't you hear it?"
"What're you talking about?" demanded Ron.
But Harry suddenly turned even paler. "I heard the voice," he said.
"The voice?" Parvati and Patil both said.
"At the beginning of the year, I heard a creepy voice that no one else could hear. And I heard it again when Mrs. Norris was attacked."
Padma gasped: "I heard a snake crawling around when Justin was attacked. I didn't think it was connected, but—"
"It must be Slytherin's monster," Harry concluded. "Of course it's snake." Then, he clapped his hand to his forehead. "Oh, bloody hell, that must be what Hermione figured out!"
"Hermione?" Parvati asked, looking around. She suddenly realized it was getting crowded as increasing numbers of students were pouring out from the Great Hall to go to the match. Luckily, people weren't paying them much mind yet. But Hermione was nowhere to be seen.
Ron, who was still staring blankly and trying to catch up said, "You just missed her. She ran off to the library."
"And you let her go?!" Parvati yelped.
"Hey, I didn't know it was the monster!" Harry protested.
Parvati started shaking. Her closest muggle-born friend was running around the castle with Slytherin's monster—and presumably Slytherin's Heir—out hunting their next victim. "Did you hear where it went?" she pleaded.
Harry shook his head: "No, I lost it."
"Damn it. What do we do?"
"We need to tell the teachers," Padma said. "Now."
Parvati, Padma, and Harry all turned and rushed back into the Great Hall, desperately hoping they could find someone competent.
Ron followed after them: "Oi, what's going on?"
Parvati wasn't sure what to do, but she was once again grateful that her sister was a Ravenclaw because she was actually on the ball. Padma looked over her shoulder at Ron and hissed, "Long story. We'll explain later."
Ron yelped girlishly and fell back a couple steps, but to his credit, he continued following them.
Bursting into the Great Hall, they saw Professor McGonagall was just leaving. They ran up to her.
"Professor!"
"Professor!"
"Professor, Slytherin's monster's on the loose!" Harry said.
"Mr. Potter! What on Earth—?" McGonagall started.
"The monster is a snake," he pressed. "A big one. We—I just figured out I've been hearing it speak Parseltongue."
"And Hermione figured it right before we did and ran off to the library. She could be in danger," Parvati added.
McGonagall didn't seem entirely convinced. "Potter, are you feeling alright?" she asked. "I don't know how you think you know that, but—"
Parvati didn't give her time to finish her thought. "He's not imagining it, Professor," she insisted. Then, she hissed, "Padma and I heard it too."
McGonagall jumped in shock nearly as much as Ron had. She hadn't understood the words, of course, but she got the meaning. "I see," she said. "You are certain this was not an ordinary snake, then?"
Padma shook her head vigorously. "It's not, Professor. Way too big."
"And I heard it when Mrs. Norris was attacked," Harry added. "I just didn't recognise it."
"Merlin," McGonagall breathed. "Do you know which way it went?"
"No, it was only here for a minute," Harry said.
"Unless it went after Hermione in the library," Ron piped up worriedly, finally catching up with the conversation.
"In that case…" McGonagall decided, "you will need to come with me and speak to the Headmaster." And she strode into the Entrance Hall and began climbing the stairs.
"What? What about Hermione?" Ron protested as they hurried after her.
"If your friends cannot direct me to the monster, Weasley, it will be more worth our time to alert Professor Dumbledore so that he can bring his resources to bear," she said without breaking stride.
"What about everyone at the Quidditch match?" asked Padma.
McGonagall slowed for a moment and muttered under her breath. "We have to hope that they will be safer outside the castle until we can better understand the threat," she decided. "We will call them back as soon as we can."
Harry looked torn at the prospect of Quidditch being cancelled again, but he didn't object.
Climbing the seven floors to the Headmaster's Office in a rush was tiring, even for people who were used to the castle, but they made it. Luckily, Dumbledore was either too busy to attend the match, or they'd caught him before he left. What followed was a hurried and, between McGonagall and the four students, not entirely coherent explanation of what was happening. That explanation did require Parvati and Padma to reveal they were Parselmouths to him, but, well, Parvati had told Harry months ago that she wouldn't mind if Dumbledore knew.
When they finished, the Headmaster thankfully sprang into action. "Minerva, we must secure the school and search the castle at once," he concluded. "See to it now. I shall join you shortly." McGonagall nodded and hurried out of the office. Then, addressing the students, Dumbledore continued, "Thank you for bringing this to my attention so quickly. Although I do find it interesting that you did not tell me of this when we spoke before Christmas."
There was no judgement in his words, but they were chosen so carefully that Parvati couldn't help but feel it anyway. "Well, it's a family secret, sir," she defended herself. "And we couldn't have thought it would matter at all…" But even then, she had to wonder. If they could have connected the voice Padma heard at Christmas to the monster…
"And I didn't figure it out until just now," Harry added. "…Was a bit worried I was going mad, to be honest."
Dumbledore started to respond, but at that moment, there was a loud, whistling alarm that made the children all jump. Dumbledore looked sharply at the source of the noise, one of his strange silver instruments, but then pointed his wand at the door instead. The whistling stopped, but they heard a clattering on the stairs, and the door was slammed open by an older boy in Ravenclaw robes, panting heavily.
"Headmaster!" he gasped. "You need to come quick…there's been another attack!"
"Hermione!" Ron groaned as they rushed into the Hospital Wing.
Sure enough, Hermione was lying there on a bed, frozen and glassy-eyed. But shockingly, she wasn't alone. Next to her was…
"Penelope!" Padma exclaimed. She rushed to the other girl's side.
"Who'zat?" Ron asked distractedly.
"Penelope Clearwater. She's one of our prefects. How did she get attacked."
"They were found together," Professor McGonagall told them worriedly. "If…if Miss Granger was the target, it may have been a case of wrong place and wrong time on Miss Clearwater's part."
Dumbledore, to Parvati's surprise, hadn't come to the Infirmary himself. Instead, they had met McGonagall coming back into the castle, and as soon as he was able to hand them off, he asked the older boy to lead him to the scene of the attack. She supposed it was for the best if he could start hunting down the Heir right away. Plus, they could tell each other anything they needed to know afterwards.
It didn't much matter in the end. Dumbledore couldn't do anything for the petrified victims, and all the teachers insisted they would be fine when the Mandrake Draught was ready in another month. Although she was pretty sure Hermione would flip at the prospect of missing a month of school.
But in the meantime, there wasn't much of anything they could do either. It had seemed like they might be close to finding the Heir a few minutes ago, but now, they'd slipped away again, and Hermione and Penelope had been petrified for their trouble.
The boys felt the same way. "Great," Ron grumbled. "Hermione's petrified right after she maybe found out something. Slytherin's Heir got away again. And we still don't know what the monster is, except it's a snake. Not to mention no Quidditch." He looked back at them. "And how the bloody hell are you two Parselmouths too?"
Parvati sighed: "Parselmouths are more common in India, Ronald. Serpents aren't seen as symbols of evil there. It runs in our family."
Padma, meanwhile, just ignored him. "You have any ideas what kind of snake it could be, Parv?" she asked.
"Not unless it's a Gorgon, no," she replied.
"Gorgons transfigure their victims into stone, Miss Patil. They don't merely freeze them," Professor McGonagall said seriously.
"There can't be that many snakes that sound that large," Padma considered, "Even magical ones…What about a basilisk? They're big enough, and they live long enough."
"What's a basilisk?" Harry asked.
Parvati shivered at the thought. "Trouble is what it is. I sure hope it's not one of those." At Harry's enquiring look, she continued, "The basilisk is the King of Serpents. It's magically created; it can live for hundreds of years; its venom is so corrosive that alchemists pay huge amounts of galleons for it, and it can kill you just by looking you in the eye. But no one's here's died, though. I don't see how it fits."
"One person did, the last time," Harry pointed out.
"That still doesn't explain the others."
But then, Professor McGonagall said, "I wonder…this was on the floor next to them." She held out a small, circular mirror. "Do you have any idea why they might have been carrying it, Miss Patil?"
"What, a mirror? Huh, I don't think Hermione carries one around. It could be Penelope's."
"But she wouldn't have any reason to have it out," Padma said "…unless it was to look around corners."
Parvati thought hard. Did Hermione come to the same conclusion that the monster was a basilisk? Very possible; she was Hermione, especially if she had managed to get to the library before being attacked. But did she even know what a mirror would do? Did the mirror make a difference? Suddenly, a thought struck her. Over the past two years, one of the things Hermione had told them she did know about the wizarding world before she came to Hogwarts was how early wizarding history paralleled a lot of the stories in Greek mythology. Muggles, she'd told them, did know about Gorgons and Pegasi and those sorts of things, but they thought they were just stories. "Professor, didn't wizards used to fight Gorgons by looking at them in mirrors?" she asked.
But suddenly, before Professor McGonagall could answer, Harry exclaimed, "That's it!" Everyone looked at him. "Hermione and Penelope were using the mirror to look around corners. You said the basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died—because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera—"
"He did?" Parvati said in surprise, but Harry kept going.
"—The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin…Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again."
That…made a surprising amount of sense.
"And Mrs. Norris?" Ron whispered eagerly.
Harry needed to think about that one. "The water…" he said slowly. "The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection…"
Parvati stared in awe at the sudden change that had come over her classmate. Harry hadn't really done much extraordinary since coming to Hogwarts—well, except for Quidditch—and that business with Quirrell was last year—who was possessed by You-Know-Who, she reminded herself!
Okay, he definitely had his moments, but he didn't normally seem extraordinary, not like Dumbledore did.
Still, she remembered the questions their older family members had asked about him after their first term—the rumours that Harry Potter was a powerful wizard (light or dark) in his own right. It was the same reason some people insisted he was the Heir of Slytherin this year. But most of the time, he seemed…well, normal. This was the first time she'd seen him truly run circles around everyone else figuring out a puzzle like that (well, besides Hermione, she supposed). She wondered if there was something more to the Boy-Who-Lived after all.
"That does seem to fit the evidence, Potter," McGonagall agreed, looking a little surprised, herself. "Although I find myself a little bit unsettled by how much you've learnt about these attacks."
"Well, that's just because I've been stuck in the middle of all of them, Professor," Harry groaned. "You'd almost think the Heir was trying to frame me, except that I'd never attack Hermione."
"Quite. Well, be that as it may, it seems we have work to do. The first order of which is to get you four back to your dormitories safely. We don't know if the Heir is still out there." She looked to the open door of the infirmary, considered, then conjured a mirror out of thin air. It was the size of a bathroom mirror, unlike Hermione's, and more ornate than was strictly necessary. "I will go first," she said, levitating it in front of her. "If anything happens to me, run directly back the way we came to the infirmary, looking around as little as possible, and alert Madam Pomfrey. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor," they said.
"Very good," she said, and she led them out into the corridors.
Parvati was briefly tempted to note that the Heir had never attacked twice in a row, but decided against it. The Heir also hadn't attacked anyone for more than fourth months and had suddenly come back. She was a little more worried about the conspicuousness of the whole thing. A teacher escorting a group of students using a large mirror to look around corners might tip the Heir off if they hadn't already. But on balance, it was more than sensible for safety's sake.
Luckily, they didn't run into any trouble on the way up. The corridors were clear with all of the other students already in the dorms.
"One thing I don't understand. How's the basilisk been getting around the place?" said Ron. "A giant snake…Someone would've seen…"
"You'd think so," Padma agreed. "And if the Heir of Slytherin has a basilisk, he could have attacked a lot more people—killed them, too."
"Except he doesn't want the school to close," Harry jumped in. "Remember—" Parvati was pretty sure he was going to say "Remember Tom?" even though Tom wasn't the Heir, but he glanced at McGonagall in front of them and said. "Well, they'd probably close the school if people started dying." They definitely would, they knew, according to Tom's diary. "And besides, the Heir doesn't want to hurt purebloods, right? They'd have to be careful to only get muggle-borns."
"So his plan is…what? Just to scare the muggle-borns away?" Parvati asked.
"Well, it might work, at this rate," said Ron. He paused then added, "Still doesn't explain how it's getting around, though."
Parvati thought about this. "Harry? When you heard the basilisk before—if that's what it was—could you tell where the voice was coming from, exactly?"
Harry's eyes widened as realization came over his face. "Yes. On Halloween, it sounded like the voice was moving up—from the dungeons to the second floor where we found Mrs. Norris. Fast, too. We ran up the stairs and still couldn't catch up with it."
"You followed a disembodied voice that was threatening to kill someone, Potter?" McGonagall said sharply, glancing back at him.
Harry shrank back at her admonishment, but it was still a clue.
"Hm…pipes, maybe?" Padma suggested.
"Could something that big fit through the pipes?" asked Parvati.
"It is possible, Miss Patil," McGonagall said slowly. "The pipes would expand to fit; Hogwarts' plumbing system is enchanted to shift in size to prevent blockages—Miss Warren's haunting excepted."
It took Parvati a minute to realise she must be talking about Moaning Myrtle. Moaning Myrtle had a last name? And McGonagall knew it? She had to ask. "Did…did you know Myrtle, Professor?"
"No. She died four years before I began here as a student, I'm afraid."
"When was that?" Ron asked.
Parvati winced. Boys. McGonagall did not grumble, but she could imagine she was thinking it. "1947, if you must know, Weasley," she said in a slightly cold voice.
There was a clatter as Harry stopped so suddenly that Ron ran into him from behind, and both of them stumbled to stay upright.
McGonagall spun around. "Potter?" she demanded.
"You mean Moaning Myrtle died the same year the Chamber of Secrets was opened the last time?"
Parvati's jaw dropped. Moaning Bloody Myrtle was the student who was killed when the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago?
McGonagall's mouth was hanging open too as a worrying mix of emotions flitted across her face. "Could it be? But she must be. I can't believe I never…" she muttered to herself; then she composed herself and told them, "I will address that shortly. You lot still need to return to your dormitories."
Despite that shocking revelation, they hurried on. When they reached the seventh floor, McGonagall led them around the back way to pass Ravenclaw Tower and drop off Padma before continuing on to Gryffindor Tower. At least the professor seemed to know what she was doing. Parvati wondered if she had had to do things like this before during the war. In any case, she hugged her sister worriedly before she entered the tower. And soon enough, she, Harry, and Ron were back at Gryffindor Tower themselves.
McGonagall showed them inside: "The students have already been informed to remain in their dormitories and wait for further instruction. You will join them and not leave unless I or another teacher tells you it is safe…" She paused and added, "Another teacher other than Professor Lockhart. I must speak with the Headmaster immediately. Stay safe."
Parvati didn't know much about what happened that day after they returned to the dorms. She could only hope that Dumbledore was on the case like he said. Lavender had interrogated her at once, of course. She was equally horrified that Hermione had been attacked, although Parvati had glossed over everything about her and Padma being Parselmouths and instead claimed that Hermione and Harry had deduced some things about Slytherin's monster, and that Hermione was probably attacked because of that. (It might have even been true, she thought.) She and Padma had just happened to be nearby and were caught up in it. Luckily, Ron didn't blab her secret either, which she suspected might have been Harry's doing.
A couple hours later, McGonagall came back to inform the House about the school's new security measures. Until the crisis was over, she said, all extracurricular activities were cancelled. Students would be let out of the dormitories only for classes and meals, and teachers would accompany them through the corridors at all times. Parvati wondered how much good that would do, especially if the monster really was a basilisk. Evacuating the school might be a more sensible precaution in that case, and indeed, McGonagall told them the school was already in danger of closing. But she also remembered what Harry had said: the Heir didn't want to hurt purebloods. In that case, there really was safety in numbers. And also, not letting the students out of sight could curtail the Heir's movements.
Either way, the mood in Gryffindor Tower was grim after that. Lee Jordan, the Quidditch announcer, said that they should just chuck all the Slytherins out of the school, to some agreement. Oliver Wood, the team captain, was sulking more than anyone at Quidditch being cancelled yet again. Percy Weasley looked like he was in shock. His twin brothers said it was because he was shocked that the Heir would dare to attack a prefect, but Lavender insisted that Penelope was his secret girlfriend. And Harry and Ron were sitting off in the corner by themselves, periodically whispering to each other. Parvati wasn't sure why, but she had a nasty feeling that they were plotting something stupid and dangerous.
Sandwiches were served in the Common Room for lunch, but Professor McGonagall came back to take then down to the Great Hall for supper. The mood in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, she quickly learnt, was equally grim. As for the Slytherins, no one was quite sure what was going on with them. Some of them did look fearful, others angry. A few did look smug at the plight of the muggle-borns, especially Draco Malfoy, but they were the minority, at least outwardly. Even for Slytherin, the possibility of Hogwarts closing was not a pleasant one.
Except, when they were filing back up to the dormitories again, McGonagall pulled her aside. "Miss Patil, please stay a moment," she said. "Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you in private."
That got Harry's attention. He stopped before climbing through the portrait hole. "Professor? What's going on?"
"This does not concern you, Potter," she said. "This is a private matter."
"But you can't think she's the—" he started.
"That will do, Potter," she cut him off sharply before he said something he really shouldn't. "Miss Patil is not in any trouble. You, however, should return to your dorm with your housemates."
Harry reluctantly went inside, though the look in his eyes remained one of suspicion. As for Parvati, Professor McGonagall led her down the corridors in a direction that was very obviously not towards the Headmaster's Office. She grew tense, wondering if this could be some sort of trick, but as she started to realise just where McGonagall was leading her, the pieces started to come together.
Except when she saw it for herself, those pieces flew out the window, although perhaps they shouldn't have, because she beheld one of the strangest sights she'd ever seen.
Headmaster Dumbledore. Standing in a girls' lavatory.
It was Myrtle's bathroom, of course. And it made sense if she really was a past victim of the Heir of Slytherin, but it still looked so out of place. And then, she noticed that perched on top of one of the stall dividers, looking even more out of place, was Fawkes the Phoenix.
"Um…Professor?" Parvati asked.
Professor Dumbledore nodded to her. "Thank you for coming, Miss Patil."
"I…I don't understand…" she began.
"I have asked you here because I believe that you can help us in locating Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets."
Parvati just stared at him. "…What?"
"Based on Miss Warren's testimony," he continued, unperturbed, "I have reason to believe that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is in or very near this room."
Parvati gasped. It was here?! She spun around nervously, looking for anything that was out of place—any sign that she was standing in a place of such horrible legends. But her fear turned to confusion as she found…nothing. Aside from being abandoned, it was just a bathroom. Dumbledore waited patiently for her to calm down. When she did, she couldn't help but ask, "In a girls' bathroom, Professor?"
"It was not a bathroom when the castle was built," he answered calmly. "Hogwarts' plumbing system has been renovated several times over the centuries."
That…that would explain a lot, she decided.
"Now, I have applied all of my—if I may say so—considerable talents to finding and opening the entrance to the Chamber in this room, and the surrounding rooms, but I have been unable to do so. Yet there are still areas of magic in which I remain uninformed, and most important to this conversation is magic involving the use of Parseltongue. I had heard rumours of snake charmers in India using Parseltongue in their arts, but I had not considered that there would be any in Britain that were not of Slytherin's line—besides young Harry, of course. As you are, I expect, considerably better educated in Parseltongue than either myself or Harry, you were the natural choice to help."
"Oh!" she squeaked. Albus Dumbledore wanted her help? Ordinarily, she'd say they were doomed, but if Parseltongue really was the key—well, she was still the wrong person to ask. "B-but sir, you should really be writing our Papa," she said. "He's told Padma and I a little about Parseltongue magic, but we've never done any ourselves."
"If you are unsuccessful, then I will contact your father to ask his assistance," he assured her. "However, I wish to act now if we can, in case the Heir has noticed our movements. In the interest of time, I believe your own talents may be sufficient for this, and that merely speaking Parseltongue will be enough to gain entry."
Parvati made the connection. "Oh, you think Slytherin made it so only a Parselmouth can get into the Chamber of Secrets?"
"It would explain a great deal about how the Chamber has remained hidden so long, even now, when I have learnt precisely where to look."
"So you think it will open if I tell it to in Parseltongue?" she asked, still feeling a bit foolish. "Like, er, 'Open the Chamber of Secrets'?"
But she had barely hissed the word "Open" when a light flashed, and with a grinding sound, one of the sinks began to—well, sink into the floor and to the side. She and McGonagall both jumped in surprise, but Dumbledore merely looked intrigued. Underneath the sink was an open pipe that was far too large to have any business being in a normal-sized bathroom. McGonagall must have been right about the plumbing shifting as required for the task, since it was large enough for a person to slide down.
"Well, then, that was even easier than I expected," Dumbledore said cheerfully when the grinding had stopped. "It appears that Salazar Slytherin and his descendants were not familiar with how widespread Parseltongue is on a global scale." All at once, his expression turned serious again. "Now, we should be certain of our plan before we continue. I must ask you, Miss Patil, even if you have not done magic with Parseltongue, have you practised any traditional snake-charming?"
"Er, not exactly, Professor. Not any formal training. Padma and I played with garden snakes a little, but that's it—wait, do you want me to talk—do you want me to talk to the basilisk?"
"I agree, Albus. Do you really think this is wise?" McGonagall asked.
"I think that we are short of time, Minerva," he said. "The Heir could not have known that Miss Granger failed to tell her friends her suspicions before she went to the library. They may be pressed to act quickly—and decisively."
Yes, Parvati thought, Hermione did have an annoying habit of being cryptic about things until she'd researched them six ways to Sunday.
"It may well be that the basilisk will obey any Parselmouth," Dumbledore continued, "and if we can resolve this matter without having to battle an ancient and intelligent class five-X magical beast, that would be preferable."
Parvati…couldn't fault that logic, actually. "And you do think it is a basilisk?" she checked.
"I do, Miss Patil. A basilisk would be a natural choice for a powerful and dark-inclined wizard such as Slytherin. And your theory about how the victims escaped its killing gaze neatly explains both the attacks this year and the ones we experienced in 1943, Harry."
It took Parvati a moment to process that last word. In fact, the first thing she noticed was McGonagall starting and turning around with an angry huff. Then, she saw that Dumbledore was staring intently at what should have been an empty corner of the bathroom. At that, Parvati spun around and looked for herself. At first, it looked like there was nothing there, and then, Harry Potter appeared from under a bloody invisibility cloak!
"Harry?!" she yelped. Then, the rest of the situation caught up with her. Her gaze bounced back and forth between Harry and Dumbledore as she tried to determine if she'd misunderstood something. "Professor…how did you…?" she asked slowly.
"There are other ways than sight of detecting a hidden presence," he said. And maybe for him, there were.
Professor McGonagall finally regained her composure. "Mr. Potter!" she said sternly. "What on Earth are you doing here?"
Harry flinched at her harsh look. "Sorry, Professor," he said. "It's just…I was worried something else had happened." His eyes flicked over to—the entrance to the bloody Chamber of Secrets, she had to remind herself. This was possibly the most surreal day she'd ever experienced at Hogwarts. "And I thought that maybe I could…" Harry started again, but he trailed off.
"What, Potter?" McGonagall pressed him. "That you could find the entrance to Slytherin's chamber on your own when generations of professors have failed to the same."
Harry, looking very embarrassed by now, shifted his gaze between McGonagall, Dumbledore, and the entrance to the Chamber. "I mean…since it opens for Parseltongue, Professor…" he said lamely.
McGonagall drew a breath to start in on him again, but Dumbledore stopped her. "Minerva," he warned her, then addressed the three of them: "Ordinarily, I would not bring students into such a dangerous environment as this—" Harry snorted for some reason. "—However, if we do encounter a basilisk, it would be safer to have a Parselmouth on hand to parley with it. And there may also be more Parseltongue-sealed doors to access the Chamber. That is why I asked Miss Patil here, Harry. But since you have come this far, I think it is fair that you be allowed to join your friend openly. Your cloak would to little to protect you against a basilisk, regardless."
Parvati was sure she heard McGonagall mutter, "And we can keep an eye on you" under her breath.
"Professor McGonagall will come with us to protect you—" He looked sharply at Harry as he emphasised "—two while Fawkes and I investigate. However, I ask you to defer to Miss Patil in matters of Parseltongue, as she is more experienced in the subject."
Harry, looking briefly dazed, slowly nodded and said, "Yes, Professor."
Parvati looked to McGonagall. She was supposed to protect them from the King of Serpents. Could she do that? McGonagall looked firm and committed as she stood there, but this was a beast very few people had experience with, even in India. And besides that, something seemed off. She thought back to the old stories of basilisks she and Padma had heard as little girls, and it clicked. "Professor," she said, "what if we have to fight the basilisk? Aren't you supposed to bring a rooster to fight one? Or is that why you brought Fawkes?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at her at that last question, but he answered. "The cry of a rooster is deadly to a basilisk," he confirmed. "This much you will find in Newt Scamander's excellent reference. But Fawkes is here not related to that, but because phoenixes are among the very few creatures that are immune to the basilisk's gaze. A rooster is in fact of limited use in this situation. Like the cry of the mandrake to us, the rooster does not kill instantly at any useful range. More to the point, nor will an imitation or even a transfigured rooster suffice. The magic requires the true animal. Unfortunately, the Heir of Slytherin accounted for this and killed all of the roosters on the school grounds several months ago. No, Fawkes and I will deal with the basilisk if it proves hostile using our own abilities. You need merely get yourselves away."
Again, he looked sharply at Harry, who hesitated, and then nodded again. Parvati had a feeling there was a story there, possibly related to that business with Quirrell last year.
With that decided, the three of them hesitantly stepped forward towards the entrance to the Chamber. Harry went right up to the edge like he was just going to take the slide down. Because of course he would, Parvati thought. But Dumbledore held up his hand to stop him.
"Professor?" Harry asked. "What—How are we getting down there?"
"That is the other reason Fawkes has joined us," Dumbledore said. He gestured, and Fawkes lifted off his perch and swooped over the Chamber entrance, flapping his wings to hover there like no mundane bird could. "Phoenixes," Dumbledore repeated what he told them at Christmas, "can carry immensely heavy loads. We need only take hold of his tail feathers."
Harry and Parvati looked at each other sceptically, but Dumbledore and even McGonagall seemed to have no problem with the idea. The four of them took hold of Fawkes's strangely hot tail feathers, and suddenly, they were flying.
Not flying like on a broomstick. She wasn't jerked around by the forces. She was almost floating, not like she was hanging from something like a tree branch, let alone something as ephemeral as a feather. It was more like a Portkey, but without the nauseous spinning and the uncomfortable hook in her gut. Her grip on the feather held firm without slipping, and she wasn't hurled in circle. Instead, it was just a rush of wind and wings around her and probably the best experience flying she'd ever had.
And then, they landed—in the cold and wet and dark, and what she quickly realised from feeling around was a floor littered with animal bones.
This was the Chamber of Secrets.