Chapter 24 – A Night for Secrets
Dumbledore gone from the castle. The post of Headmaster replaced entirely by that of the High Inquisitor. Even the creation of the Inquisitorial Squad, that little group of goons Umbridge had created as instruments of her authority from within the student population, since although it seemed petty it helped cement Umbridge's power. None of it was in any way what Harry wanted. Not one bit.
And the worst part was, despite Harry and his friends' little rebellion finally having inspired others to action, it seemed like the absolute worst time to be doing anything. Not with the reinstatement of corporal punishment, anyway, and Umbridge's threats of treason. Not that Harry was actually going to stop. Just… they'd all agreed to simmer down somewhat just in case, to see how things went.
Which was fine, except it made Harry restless. So Harry had decided to take a trip outside the Common Room after curfew alone under cover of his Invisibility Cloak. He didn't have a patrol to do, and the next alchemical practical wasn't until the spring. All that meant Harry had only the normal amount of duties and responsibilities, at least for a small while, so he planned to use his small bit of extra time wisely.
With Dumbledore chased out of Hogwarts, the highest-ranking member of staff left under Umbridge was Professor McGonagall. While Harry appreciated her dedication to her job and thought her generally quite fair, she lacked the gravitas and cachet carried by Dumbledore. Harry doubted she would be able to do what Dumbledore couldn't and keep Umbridge in check. Already the Inquisitorial Squad patrolled the corridors.
Even at times covered already by the prefects. But then, Harry supposed their purpose was unrelated to student safety. They were Umbridge's eyes and ears among the students, and she needed them to watch for the prefects.
And for us, although she doesn't know it, Harry thought. The plan to write anti-Inquisition messages around the school had clearly got to Umbridge, and although she didn't know who was responsible, she was trying to find out. But with Blaise numbered among the members of the Inquisitorial Squad, Harry thought that would be difficult for her.
Even so, she still had the Squad out on patrol at night.
Fortunately for Harry, his Invisibility Cloak meant that he could literally walk past the Squaddies without them realising it. He had the night off from patrols so he'd planned to get out and scrawl some messages over the walls.
Unfortunately for Harry, the Inquisitorial Squad were crawling all over the dungeons and the lower floors, so Harry had to chance a trip to the second floor to look for good places to graffiti. He settled for a largely undecorated section of wall near to Lockhart's classroom and got to work painting. Harry didn't take his time. Unlike Daphne he wasn't too worried about his sloppy handwriting, especially since he was trying to disguise it anyway, so Harry wrote in big, wide letters along a clear stretch of wall.
UMBRIDGE GO HOME
Harry stood in front of the wall admiring his handiwork. Not the best example of handwriting, but Harry thought it would do. Even if Daphne's were always prettier. It was about the message, not the aesthetics, anyway.
One message handled, Harry just needed to find some more suitable places to write his messages. He didn't want to take anywhere too interesting, as some of those spots would be better off saved for the more spectacular bits of messaging. But even so he didn't want to go anywhere completely out of the way just in case no one at all noticed it. Which meant…
"So many children..." Harry heard. He spun around instantly, worried it was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad or – worse – an Inquisitor. They couldn't see him, but he didn't want them on the lookout so early on in his evening's wrong doing. "And still so hungry..."
That's the snake! Harry thought. He only remembered hearing it so high up in the castle once before. His prior experiences with it had all been much lower down, although he supposed perhaps that was just because the castle's lower reaches tended to be quieter. Not as many people around.
Harry hadn't heard the snake since the previous year. He'd been worried – on those odd times he'd thought about it – that it had died or thought that perhaps it had found its way outside of the castle. But evidently it hadn't.
Harry left his graffiti behind with only the briefest of glances back at the wall and headed off along the corridor where he'd heard the snake. It moved quickly along the corridor across the length of the castle, hissing to itself all the while.
Harry could just about hear it as it moved through the walls.
It's a bloody fast snake, that's for sure, Harry thought as he quickened his pace to catch up with it. With a bit of luck, the snake wouldn't try going up or down – at least not until Harry could follow it, anyway.
"So hungry... Always hungry," said the snake as it moved away.
Harry followed the snake until he reached the haunted second floor girls' toilet. The last time he'd heard the snake on the second floor it had gone silent at just that point, too. Or perhaps he had simply been distracted by the toilet's resident ghost.
"Home again... Alone..." said the snake, its voice growing quieter. It must have gone somewhere.
Up or down? Harry wondered. Perhaps there was a clue inside the toilets.
Harry glanced up and down the corridor in case anyone was coming, then slipped inside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Stagnant water pooled across the floor and the room was deserted, quiet apart from the steady drip, drip, drip of a leaky tap. With any luck Moaning Myrtle would be elsewhere, doing whatever depressive teenaged ghosts did in their time off from haunting toilets, and Harry could have a good look around.
Last time he'd chanced asking the ghost a question, and she'd gone crazy and derailed the entire conversation and Harry had had to flee. This time, he wanted to take a good look around the whole of the toilets just in case there was somewhere a snake could get in or out.
A bit of pipe, maybe, or a crack in the wall… Something like that, anyway. Since there was definitely at least one snake in the walls, and it had to be going somewhere.
"If I were a snake, where would I be?" Harry muttered to himself as he walked around the damp, musty toilets. The snake was travelling through the walls, whether in the pipes or just roaming free. If it was going through the pipes then it would have to come out somewhere – perhaps through the toilets themselves?
Even though Harry knew it went largely unused except by the most desperate of girls in the castle, Harry still didn't feel like poking around the actual toilet cubicles. It just felt weird. So instead, Harry headed towards the taps in the centre of the room. If it was travelling through pipes, Harry reasoned, then perhaps the snake would come through the taps. Myrtle was meant to cause all sorts of destruction within the bathroom, including doing everything she could to render the fixtures unusable... so perhaps the taps didn't work, anyway.
"Who's there?" wailed Myrtle suddenly, causing Harry to jump backwards.
"Fucking hell!" Harry swore. "Shit."
"I know that voice!" said Myrtle. "It's you." A silvery mist shot from one of the nearby toilet cubicles and swirled around Harry.
Moaning Myrtle.
"You came back," said Myrtle, floating around Harry. "Why? Come to laugh at poor, miserable Myrtle?"
Of course, Harry still had the Invisibility Cloak wrapped around him, so Myrtle wouldn't be able to see him. Unless ghosts could see through things like that, Harry supposed, but that seemed like the sort of thing Harry would have heard about. But he had spoken aloud, and Myrtle had obviously figured out where he stood.
"Don't think you can hide from me just because you're invisible!" continued Myrtle. "I can't see you but I heard you!"
Harry sighed and pulled down the hood of his Cloak.
"Alright, alright," Harry said. "It is me. I came here, er, looking for..." He paused. The last time Harry had mentioned anything to do with the snake Myrtle had grown quite upset. "I'm looking for a snake. Again. Do you know of any?"
Myrtle ignored Harry's question.
"So you didn't come here to laugh at me? To make fun of the way I cried? To tell me I'm stupid and ugly and I shouldn't be spending my unlife in a toilet?"
"I—er—no," Harry said. "I didn't. I promise. Honestly, what you do with your li—unlife—is your own business, Myrtle. I'd never come here to make fun of you. I promise I'm really here looking for a snake."
Harry couldn't think of anything more cruel – or more pointless – than going out of his way to bully a ghost. It was the sort of behaviour he would expect from Pansy, admittedly, so he understood why Myrtle might wonder.
"There's a picture of a snake scratched into one of the pipes behind you," Myrtle said after a few moments. She pointed. "That one, right there."
"I was thinking more, er, you know, of a real snake. One that's alive. You've heard it hissing, maybe?"
Myrtle shrugged.
"I hear hissing sometimes." She swirled around the room and eventually came to a stop in front of Harry again. "Usually there, behind you. Where the picture of the snake is." She paused. "I don't think it is the snake, though. It isn't a magical carving."
"And that's it?" Harry said, turning to look at where Myrtle had indicated. He dropped to one knee and looked along the pipes coming from the taps, and sure enough there was a small, rather crudely carved, representation of a snake on pipe. "This one, right here?"
"I know my own toilet," said Myrtle. "I can tell you which of the cubicles has the best rumour written in it; I can tell you where each cracked tile is; I can even show you the best-drawn pictures of willies—"
"Fine, fine," said Harry. "I believe you. I'm just disappointed, that's all. Because I was looking for a real snake, not just a carving."
"That's the only snake here," said Myrtle. "But I did tell you, I do sometimes hear hissing coming from there."
"Home again, and home alone," Harry heard the snake say to itself. It was right beneath the toilet floor, its voice disappearing directly below the sink.
"See? Like that. I told you—" Myrtle started to say.
"Sh! Just for a second," Harry said. "I can hear ... hissing..."
But the snake was gone somewhere below. Harry thought on it. The snake was obviously quite large, which suggested to Harry it wasn't a grass snake or anything like that. That it was found in Hogwarts meant it was more likely to be a magical variety of snake than if Harry had found it elsewhere. If it was a magical snake, what was it doing in the castle to begin with?
Some mad Magizoology project of Hagrid's that had escaped somehow? But then Harry had been hearing a snake since his first year, and that had been before Hagrid's appointment. His predecessor's snake then, perhaps. That would make sense.
And what sort of magical snake would it be? Harry didn't know of any massive magical snakes native to Scotland.
"Myrtle, have you ever seen anything... er... weird in this bathroom? Since you've been here, er—well, however long you've been here."
"I've been here fifty years!" said Myrtle. "Everything there is to see, I've seen."
Well, it was a toilet, so Harry didn't think there was really all that much to see. He reckoned if he really wanted to he could see all it had to see in ten minutes or so. But perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say.
"Brilliant," said Harry. "So, er, have you ever seen any snakes? Or snakish things, I suppose." Harry wasn't sure what the limits were regarding Parseltongue, but he supposed it could also cover things that weren't exactly snakes. "Around the sink, maybe?"
Myrtle frowned at him.
"Are you joking? Is this your idea of something funny?" said Myrtle, voice growing higher pitch with every word. "Because I don't think—"
"No, no! I'm serious, Myrtle," Harry said. "I promise I'm not here to make fun of you. I genuinely want to know."
"Well..." said Myrtle. "If you really aren't here to make fun of me... I suppose I could tell you about..." She paused. "The day I died."
"Er, yes please," Harry said, although he wasn't entirely sure that was what he wanted to hear. And even if it were, Harry thought it a little too personal to be getting into. Although ghosts were usually quite fond of talking about their deaths, so…
"I was crying in the toilets because Olive Hornby made fun of my glasses—she was just awful, Olive Hornby, but I showed her—when I heard that boy. That was why I was so annoyed with you because you reminded me of him. But you aren't so rude! You're actually quite nice. So I opened the door to tell him to stop hissing because this is a girls' toilet and what was he even doing in there, anyway? Well, that's when I saw a great, big pair of eyes."
Myrtle paused dramatically.
"And then I died."
"That sounds awful," Harry said. "I'm really sorry that happened to you."
But Harry was thinking about what she'd said.
That boy. Hissing. A big pair of eyes. And then a dead girl. The hissing had to have been a teenaged Voldemort. Fifty years ago Myrtle had died, and that sounded the right amount of time for Voldemort to have been at school. Fifty years ago the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, or there about. It couldn't be a simple coincidence that Myrtle had died when Voldemort was at school during the one time when Slytherin's secret chamber had been opened.
"You saw eyes? And then you died?" Harry asked. "And then the boy was gone? Or the boy was gone before you, er, died? Er—just trying to make sure I've got everything right. I do believe you, obviously."
"Yes," said Myrtle. "I was ever so surprised. All I'd wanted was to tell that boy off and instead I ended up dead."
Snakes. Hissing. A boy hissing. A carving of a snake on the pipes. There was something there. Something Harry just needed to figure out. Hissing meant snakes or Parselmouths. Parselmouths in Hogwarts meant Slytherin, and Slytherin…
An entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, maybe? Harry wondered. It certainly fit together. Slytherin's special talent was his ability to speak with snakes.
He'd passed it down through the generations. To Voldemort, if Voldemort's propaganda was to be believed. But even if it wasn't true that Slytherin was Voldemort's ancestor, it was still extremely likely that Slytherin's Chamber could be accessed by a Parselmouth.
If Voldemort had found the Chamber as a student, if he had released its 'monster' – presumably a snake given Slytherin's own talents in that area – it could have easily killed Myrtle if Voldemort had thought she'd found out about him. Or even just because Voldemort had fancied a bit of fun.
The timing was right. The scenario seemed plausible enough to Harry. More than that, it felt right, too.
A girls' toilet on the second floor is a weird place to put the door to your secret chamber, Harry thought, but the Founders were all quite weird. That was one of the few things every account agreed upon.
Now Harry just needed to figure out how to get inside. The snake carving seemed like a decent enough hint – it was clearly associated with Slytherin, but innocuous enough that it could also just be a bit of random graffiti from a student.
Harry decided to start there.
"Er, Myrtle... I'm about to do something and I'd really appreciate it if you could keep it a secret. You know, between just us? Never say anything about it to, well, anyone?"
"A secret?" echoed Myrtle. "What is it?"
"Just watch," Harry said. "But you've got to promise not to say anything to anyone. Please?"
"I promise," said Myrtle, "if you come to see me again."
"I, er—" said Harry. He weighed his options. There was quite possibly more than one entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, but as nobody had ever found any of them before, Harry didn't want to lose the opportunity. So while he could theoretically look for another one, the one in Myrtle's bathroom was probably his best option. Unfortunately, Myrtle's toilet was perpetually haunted by Myrtle, who only sometimes left to do God only knew what somewhere else, so Harry didn't fancy his chances at finding a time when she wasn't in.
So really his only option was to trust Myrtle with his ability to speak Parseltongue, because Harry doubted he could succeed where generations of students and staff had failed and find any other entrance to the Chamber.
But did he really want to come visit a depressive ghost in her flooded, damp toilet full of fetid water? Was finding Slytherin's Chamber – and the fabled monster, riches, and everything else said to reside within it – worth that?
If Voldemort had been inside the Chamber already it was probably already ransacked, looted of anything of any value that wasn't enchanted to remain in place. So perhaps Harry wouldn't be missing all that much if he didn't find the entrance...
Oh, get over yourself, Harry, Harry thought eventually. She's just a bloody ghost.
"Okay. I'll come see you again. I'm quite busy—you know, prefect, my clubs, and er, some other stuff—but I will come see you again. I promise," Harry said. "So you'll keep my secret?"
"Oh, yes!" said Myrtle. "Yes, of course I will. Well, go on then—tell me."
Harry turned away from Myrtle and kneeled down to look at the snake more closely.
"Hello," Harry said in Parseltongue, and then waited. But nothing happened. "Excuse me? Are you a talking, er, carving?"
"That's not very funny," said Myrtle. "I told you about that boy and you decided to play a nasty little joke!" she said, voice growing higher and higher. "Well, it's not fair!"
"No, Myrtle—this is my secret," Harry said as he glanced back at her. "Please be quiet. I can talk to snakes. You know, like Salazar Slytherin could." Harry thought that, if she'd died before Voldemort was Voldemort, she might not be all that interested in him and may not even know he was a Parselmouth. But everyone knew about Salazar Slytherin. "That's how I knew I was looking for a snake. I'm trying to talk to this snake here, the picture—but it isn't speaking back. I'm, er, trying to open a door. Or something like that."
"Hmmm," said Myrtle. "If I believed you—if—I might say that you should try asking it nicely to open. Or maybe give it some of the usual passwords. If there really is a door in that sink." She sounded sceptical. "But I'm not sure that I believe you." Even so, she peered down at what Harry was doing.
"I'll give it a go," Harry said. He turned back to the pipe. "Let me in. Please. Um. Pureblood pride? Open sesame—"
The sink – indeed, all the sinks and the column into which they were set – rearranged themselves and fell away to reveal a great big hole in the floor. A pitch-black tunnel led away from the second floor, passing through what had to be the first floor and the rest of the castle. Even though Harry was absolutely sure that there was no tunnel structure to be seen from the outside. Some sort of magical passageway, no doubt, or the Chamber would have been found centuries ago.
"You really aren't lying," Myrtle said, eyes wide.
"I only lie when I really need to," Harry said idly, staring down at the hole. "I wonder what's at the bottom."
"Probably the monster that killed me," Myrtle said. "I wonder if it's still alive. Oh, but if it kills you too, you always have a place here with me in my toilet," Myrtle said. She paused. "But it would be our toilet then, wouldn't it?"
She sounded happy at the thought.
"I, er—thanks," Harry mumbled. That was something to consider, though – whether or not it was too dangerous to go exploring the Chamber, if it was the Chamber, just yet. There was the matter of Slytherin's monster to consider. Ordinarily he would have been tempted to go right to Dumbledore, but Dumbledore was gone, exiled from the castle by Umbridge and the Ministry. There was Professor – Deputy Headmistress – McGonagall, Harry supposed, but it hardly seemed appropriate going to her. And, really, there would be too many questions about how Harry found the entrance, how he'd opened it, how he'd even known where to look...
Harry made a decision.
"Myrtle, if I'm not back by, er, midnight or so, go and find a teacher," Harry said. "Otherwise just wait here for me to come back. Is that alright?"
"Why? What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to look down that hole," Harry said. "I just don't want anyone to know about it, not yet."
Harry cast a locking charm on the door to the toilets, as he didn't want anyone to stumble upon his discovery until he wanted it known, then conjured a long rope. Harry tied the rope securely to one of the sturdier-looking posts in the room and then threw the other end down the hole.
He didn't hear it hit the bottom.
"So, er, see you later, I suppose," Harry said as he started his descent.
At the bottom of the hole – which took longer to get to than Harry would have liked – it was dark and, perhaps predictably although Harry hadn't been expecting it, wet.
"Lumos," said Harry.
That's a bit better, Harry thought. He'd expected something a bit ... nicer ... from Slytherin's fabled lair. Instead, all Harry had found was a dark, wet cave accessed through a toilet.
Or the sink of a toilet, anyway. Same sort of thing.
"Don't forget the lethal monster lurking about, Harry," he muttered to himself, remembering Myrtle's 'warning'. If it was a snake, which seemed likely, Harry could simply speak with it and ask it not to hurt him. That could work.
Assuming it didn't kill with lasers from its eyes or something similarly ridiculous.
I could turn back, Harry thought, glancing back at the rope dangling from Myrtle's bathroom. That seemed like a poor choice, though, given that he'd made it so far. It felt pointless coming so close to the Chamber itself and then not even getting to the good parts.
"Alright, Harry—let's do this," Harry said to himself.
He started walking along the wet, rocky tunnel. As he got further along torches lining the walls burst into flames with Harry's passing, Harry extinguished the light of his wand and looked around the winding tunnel. Nothing about the environment changed – it was the same rough-cut bedrock, dripping wet. Under the lake, possibly, although Harry couldn't be sure.
Just up ahead was a long, coiled form – Slytherin's monster? Harry paused and took a closer look, ready to run in case it attacked. It appeared to be a massive snake, bigger than any Harry had ever seen.
It wasn't moving.
Asleep? Harry wondered. But it didn't seem to be moving at all, not even a little, and although Harry knew snakes could be quite still, that seemed unusual. Harry crept closer to it.
"Shed skin!" Harry said aloud once he'd realised just what he was looking at. The shed skin of a truly gargantuan snake sat where the snake had left it. Bigger by far than any mundane snake, and larger even than most of the magical varieties Harry knew about. The only snake Harry knew that could get as big as that shed skin was a basilisk.
And only after several centuries of growth.
"That would explain the eyes killing Myrtle, actually," Harry said. "Shit."
A basilisk was bad news. Not so bad now that he knew not to look it in the eyes, but the very idea of a basilisk lurking underneath the school was enough to make him shiver. It certainly put the snippets of speech Harry had caught from the snake in a different light.
Harry moved past the shed skin and followed the tunnel to its end where it terminated in a great big door. Or a barrier Harry assumed was a door, anyway – a great big stone wall adorned with snakes at the end of the tunnel seemed like it was probably more than just a wall.
Harry approached it carefully, wary of traps or anything hidden, but he didn't think he would have to worry. Slytherin would have assumed only Parselmouths and even then only those Parselmouths who knew about the Chamber could ever access it.
That should have been more than enough to dissuade even the most tenacious of explorers, and it wasn't, there was still a gigantic basilisk lurking within the Chamber beyond. It was almost enough to make Harry want to turn tail and run, but being able to speak with the basilisk should be enough to make it friendly. Or at least prevent it from attacking – Harry had never met a snake that hadn't been at least a bit deferential. Perhaps Salazar Slytherin's secret snake would be different, but Harry thought it would be at least interested enough in some company not to attack.
Harry stepped up to the wall and spoke to the snakes.
"Open," Harry said. He didn't think there would be a password, and he was proved right when the carved snakes on the wall slithered into its centre and the wall retreated to reveal the Chamber beyond.
"Well, I've come this far..." Harry said. He crossed the threshold and entered the Chamber itself.
It was partially flooded. A long, narrow room with ancient stone floors and intricate snake-topped columns, and puddles of water all over the floor. At the far end a massive statue of Salazar Slytherin stood against the wall, larger than any of the statues in the castle proper, a gargantuan architectural piece in itself. The entire room was lit in a dim green light that seemingly came from nowhere.
There was no sign of the basilisk.
It was an impressive example of architecture, especially for something built in secret by one wizard more than a thousand years ago, but even so, Harry felt underwhelmed. What little bits of flair the room had were to be found in its structural pieces, or the scant decorations around the columns. But there were no tapestries or banners, nothing in the way of artwork… just a vast room.
The sickly green light that emanated from nowhere Harry could see was enough to give the room a very particular ambience, Harry couldn't say it was especially inviting. There were torches sat upon some of the columns, but no fire.
"Is this it?" Harry wondered. Towering columns, statues larger than any Harry had ever seen, and eldritch lighting though there were, the room appeared to have no practical utility. It was just an empty – and wet – underground chamber.
Perhaps Voldemort had ransacked it, taken away anything of any value just in case anyone else ever found the Chamber. Difficult for a student to manage, but then no one had ever said Voldemort wasn't resourceful. Or perhaps there had never been anything of value there to begin with, except for the – conspicuously absent – basilisk itself. Nothing in the way of books, artwork other than the statues and columns, soft furnishings, or tapestries.
Which was a little boring to consider but given the state of the Chamber that Harry could see around him, not unlikely.
Harry moved further into the Chamber. The green light was more than enough for Harry to see well, especially given his alchemically augmented eyes. But that was beside the point, as there still wasn't anything much to see. The flooding of the Chamber was quite minimal – a few inches of water at its deepest point – so couldn't be blamed for the sparse decoration.
It was something of an anticlimax.
Harry headed towards the statue of Slytherin as it was by far the most interesting thing in the Chamber. Seemed a bit of an egocentric move for Slytherin to have constructed a gigantic statue of himself in his secret lair, but then, Slytherin had never been described as a humble man. The craftsmanship was superb, at least to Harry's untrained eye, and the statue spanned the entire height of the wall. It didn't look like any of the depictions of Slytherin Harry had seen, but he supposed it must have been accurate since it was created by the man himself.
Or at least accurate to how Slytherin wanted to be seen, Harry thought. But the room in general was a disappointment. Keeping an image of a snake clear in his mind, Harry spoke.
"Hello? Is there anyone here? I heard you speaking and I found the entrance," Harry said. The snake had been hungry, which made Harry wish he'd brought some food along... but it was too late. Harry looked around the room to see if there was anywhere a basilisk could be hiding, but it seemed empty. A bit of water, but a snake big enough to have left that skin in the corridor before the Chamber was surely far too big to get lost in that meagre puddle.
Is there a door? Harry wondered. A hole?
A great groaning sound, stone scratching on stone, filled the Chamber. The statue of Salazar Slytherin started to move – the face, at least. The mouth slowly opened, the stone warping in a strange fluid motion, and a long, fat figure edged out of it. A snake.
Harry closed his eyes.
If the Chamber's Monster was really a basilisk, he didn't want his last moments being the sight of it.
He didn't wait for it to come all the way out before speaking.
"Hello," Harry said, "I'm Harry. I came here because I could hear you—I'm a speaker." Perhaps it was pointless to say, but Harry felt like he should make it clear to the basilisk that he was friendly – and a friend worthy of leaving alive, at that.
"You are... the Heir?" asked the basilisk. Its voice filled the Chamber, much as Harry assumed its body would. It was loud, louder than any snake Harry had spoken with before.
Harry didn't want to lie, since he didn't think he could be called the 'Heir of Slytherin'. But in one sense, as a Parselmouth, and a Slytherin, Harry could claim such a title. Not literally, by blood – the Potters weren't descended from Slytherin, and Harry didn't think his mother was, either – but in a more spiritual, esoteric sense.
The sense that mattered, perhaps. Not that Harry particularly wanted to claim Slytherin's legacy – it was too muddied to be anything Harry wanted – but given present company it was perhaps better to err on the side of caution.
"I am a speaker and I am in your master's House," Harry said carefully, "but I wouldn't presume to be his Heir." There. That was close enough.
"You are safe here," said the basilisk. "You may look upon me with wonder and awe, as is appropriate. I can teach you so you will become a worthy Heir to our master."
Now that sounded promising to Harry. Although what sort of lessons could be taught by a basilisk, Harry wasn't totally sure, but it was something. Better than an empty Chamber at the very least. Harry opened his eyes.
Up close, the basilisk was huge. Gigantic, even in a Chamber as large as the Chamber of Secrets. It had no plume, which meant it was a female basilisk if Harry remembered the description from Fantastic Beasts properly. But nothing had prepared him for the sheer, majestic presence of the basilisk or the shine of its scales.
The murky green gloom of the Chamber accentuated the basilisk's scales perfectly, and with Harry's enhanced eyes he could see the minute variations in colour as they shimmered. The barest hints of a pattern in the scales. At the sight of it Harry realised why Slytherin hadn't decorated the Chamber any further, as there was simply no need.
The basilisk itself was grandeur enough.
"You're beautiful," Harry said, half to the basilisk and half to himself. Nothing he had ever read had described the beauty of the basilisk. The terror, perhaps; the enormity of a mature specimen, definitely; the danger of its gaze, always; but never had it described the way light reflected from the scales, or the patterns, or indeed, the false eyes over its eyelids.
The basilisk moved its head closer to Harry, close enough he could reach out and touch it if he'd wanted.
"Yes," said the basilisk. "I have been called such before."
"Do you have a name?"
"No. That is a human thing. I am. I have no need for a name."
"Er, right," said Harry. That was fair enough, he supposed, since he didn't think any of the snakes he'd spoken to before had names either – but he'd thought that Slytherin, or one of the others throughout history to have stumbled across his Chamber, might have given the basilisk a name. Then again, if it didn't want a name, it didn't want a name. "Well, I do have a name. I'm called Harry. It's good to meet you. I heard you ages ago, and I've been looking for you, but it was quite hard to find the, um, entrance to the Chamber."
The basilisk looked at Harry. Or moved its head closer to Harry and pointed it at him, anyway, as its eyes were still closed and Harry wasn't sure if it could see through them.
"You were not told? Is this why I have been alone for so long? Since the last Heir?"
The last Heir, Harry thought. That must have been Voldemort. He'd need to tread carefully. The basilisk had killed Myrtle, after all, so Harry knew it had previous and if it had positive memories of Voldemort...
"Yes," Harry said. "I've never been told anything about the Chamber. The last Heir was..." Harry paused. "The last Heir wasn't very, er, stable. He did some bad things and, well, now it's just me. I'm the only speaker left now, I think. And I only started school a couple of years ago so that must have been why you were on your own for so long."
"What did he do? What has become of him? He set me free, allowed me to fulfil my purpose. I feel sorrow at his absence."
None of that sounded good to Harry. The basilisk missed Voldemort. Understandable perhaps, if it spent most of its time alone in a dark and damp subterranean chamber, but still not good news for Harry. If the basilisk was loyal to Voldemort – if the rumours about the purpose of the Chamber's Monster were all true – Harry would need to make a swift escape and never return.
And that seemed wasteful.
"He killed a lot of wizards," said Harry after a few moments of thought. "Too many. Including my parents. He hurt a lot of people... and then he died. He was dangerous for our society, caused too many problems. He was a bad man, in the end." Harry thought he was probably a bad man nearer the start, too, if he'd set a basilisk upon a bullied schoolgirl. The basilisk probably wouldn't agree, not if its purpose was to kill, but that was something to consider later. Or perhaps never.
The basilisk dipped its head.
"I am sad to hear this. This is not the boy I knew. The boy I knew sought my protection, wished only for me to guard the people of this school like I was born to do. Like I have done, all these many years. Our Master would be saddened to hear of this."
"Yeah, it was... um, it was a very bad time. But that's over now. I did want to ask, though... because no one has ever told me anything about all this, I mean... What can you tell me about the Chamber? About Slytherin—Salazar, I mean?" Harry tried a bit of flattery. Snakes were usually susceptible to it. "You must know so much about things everyone else has forgotten."
The basilisk dipped its head again.
"Our Master built this Chamber as a secret defence for the school. I am to serve as its eternal guardian, the last should the enemy breach the outer defences," said the basilisk. "It is my purpose, my solemn duty."
"The enemy?" asked Harry, although given Slytherin's reputation, he thought he needn't have bothered.
"Those who fear magic," the basilisk said. "The ones who kill your hatchlings before they are able to defend themselves."
Muggles, then, Harry thought. That seemed like a reasonable fear for someone from Slytherin's time – it had been in large part one of the reasons the Founders had built the school in the first place. But it was perhaps an outdated fear, as modern muggles knew nothing about magic and wizards had agents working in every part of muggle societies.
It seemed that no one had informed the basilisk of that. Given that Slytherin's line apparently ended in Voldemort, that was perhaps unsurprising. Disappointing, but unsurprising.
Harry considered what to say next very carefully.
"Have you ever been called on to fulfil your purpose?" he said, although he knew the answer. The basilisk had killed Myrtle.
"Only once, at the urging of the previous Heir." The basilisk paused. "The threat was contained, and I was told to sleep."
So the basilisk thought it had been protecting the school. Harry could work with that. Reading between the lines, Harry thought that even though Slytherin had been against muggleborns attending the school, he probably hadn't left behind a monster tasked with their extermination. Or at least, the basilisk thought its purpose was to defend against muggles and not to kill muggleborns. That was something.
"We don't need to fear muggles anymore," Harry said. "Things have changed since Salazar's time. The last Heir lied to you—the school hasn't had anything to fear from muggles in centuries."
The basilisk sank to the Chamber floor.
"Truly?" the basilisk asked. "Then... that means..."
"The last Heir wanted to use you to carry out his own goals," Harry said. "He didn't care about your duties, or the legacy your Master left behind." Slytherin's legacy was still a bit of a poisoned chalice as far as Harry was concerned, but the basilisk appeared to hold him in high regard, so where possible Harry felt like leaning on his name was a good choice. "He was a bad man. But you didn't know. You only did what you were supposed to do."
"It is a dereliction of my duty to have done what I did," the basilisk said. "To have killed a student..."
"You couldn't have known what Vo—the last Heir really wanted," Harry said as gently as he could. "You thought you were doing the right thing. I promise I'll never ask you to kill a student." As tempting as it was to ask it to get rid of Draco, it was probably a bad idea to use the basilisk as his own personal assassin.
And more than a bit hypocritical.
The basilisk coiled up, tucked itself up tight.
"I have failed," the basilisk said. "What can I do to pay penance?"
"I—um," Harry said. He didn't know what to suggest. It didn't seem as if Myrtle would appreciate an apology from the basilisk, and he didn't want to risk setting her off if it didn't work. Aside from that he had no idea what sorts of things the basilisk would count as 'penance'.
It was a giant venomous snake.
"What would Salazar have had you do?" Harry asked instead.
"The Master would have killed me and replaced me with a more fitting protection for the school. Is this your wish?"
"Oh, er—no, no!" Harry said. "Don't do that. We'll think of something else. Look, it really wasn't your fault. You were doing what you thought you should do. Just... leave it to me to think of something, okay?"
Harry didn't want the basilisk to commit suicide at his urging. Quite aside from the very important fact that it was a living, thinking animal that had been tricked by Voldemort, it was also a walking – slithering – artefact from a long gone, mystical age. A living piece of wizarding heritage, a symbol.
Harry certainly didn't want its death on his hands. Not if it could be avoided, anyway.
"I will do this," said the basilisk after a few moments of silence. Harry let out a sigh of relief.
Excellent, Harry thought. At least he wouldn't have to deal with that. It was probably best to move on from such topics in case the basilisk got any further ideas, so Harry changed the subject.
"Is there more to this Chamber?" Harry asked. "Not that it isn't, er, nice, but it's just... well, you know." He gestured vaguely at the room. "A bit empty."
The basilisk uncoiled and slithered around Harry.
"It was once much grander," the basilisk said. "Or so I have been told—my tastes are not quite the same as wizards'." It made a hissing sound that didn't translate, or at least which Harry didn't understand through his instinctive knowledge of Parseltongue. Laughter, perhaps?
Had the basilisk made a joke? Well, stranger things had happened, Harry supposed.
"What happened?"
"Some Heirs took things which the Master had left behind," the basilisk said. It paused. "It is not my place to speak ill of them, but... I do not believe my Master would have approved of this, even though they were things he did not enchant to stay here. The last Heir took more. But... there are things which he could not take. There are other rooms. Do you wish to see them?"
Harry glanced at his watch. It was late. He hadn't even got much graffitiing done, although finding the fabled Chamber of Secrets – and meeting its monster – was probably sufficient work for the evening. Still, he couldn't spend all night down in the Chamber even if he did want to discover all of its Secrets.
He'd told Myrtle to alert the teachers if he didn't come back before midnight. The teachers would investigate and inevitably lead Umbridge to the Chamber, and that would be a disaster for the basilisk at the very least, and probably Harry too.
"Yes. Yes, I want to see them—a lot. But I can't stay much longer tonight or... er, well, there's things going on up in the school. I'll explain another time. But I've got to get back to my dormitory. I'll come back another day, as soon as I can, though. I promise!" Harry said.
The basilisk slunk down to the Chamber floor.
"I understand," it said. It seemed ... sad. "I will wait more, then."
Harry went to leave, but then stopped.
"Er—you said you were hungry, right? I'll bring you some food tomorrow night. Is that okay?"
The basilisk seemed to perk up.
"Yes, please!" it said. "All I have here is rats, and they are few—and I am large." It made that sound again; the one Harry thought was laughter. "Thank you, Heir."
Being called Slytherin's Heir made Harry feel quite strange, especially considering that was a title Voldemort claimed, but he suppressed the feeling. The basilisk meant it to be a compliment, anyway.
"It's no bother, really. Er, also—do you know a better way out than the way I came in? Only, I don't fancy climbing up a dirty wet pipe."
The basilisk laughed again.
"Ask the pipe to change into a staircase and you may walk up it."
Harry wouldn't have thought to do that. Even so, he felt stupid for not considering it – it was exactly the sort of thing wizards would think obvious. Of course the pipe could become a staircase if he asked it nicely.
"Thanks!" Harry said. "I'll come see you tomorrow with food. Have a good sleep!"
Harry left the basilisk in the main part of the Chamber of Secrets and retraced his steps through the cave-like corridor which led to the Chamber proper. When he reached his conjured rope, he stopped and spoke to the pipe – in Parseltongue, since that seemed to be the theme in Slytherin's Chamber.
"Er—turn into a staircase, please," Harry said, and then waited. Slowly, from top to bottom, the pipe reconfigured itself into a tight – but usable – spiral staircase. Harry stood in the middle and looked up, not exactly thrilled to have the climb ahead of him. "Well, it's better than climbing the rope, I suppose," Harry said to himself as he started his ascent.
It didn't take all that long to climb, anyway, and Harry reached Myrtle's bathroom well before the time limit he'd set for Myrtle to alert the authorities. The ghost was waiting for him at the top anyway, and seemingly hadn't moved from the spot where Harry had left her.
Although he supposed she didn't have all that much to do, so maybe that wasn't so surprising.
"Oh," said Myrtle upon seeing Harry return. "You're still alive."
Harry tried not to let her disappointment bother him. It was easy enough, anyway, as he'd just discovered the Chamber of Secrets and survived an encounter with its deadly mythical monster, so he had more than enough to be happy about.
"Sorry," Harry said instead. "I found what I was looking for, though. Thank you for keeping watch for me. And, er—can I count on you to keep all this secret for me?"
"If you come back to see me again," she said.
Harry just nodded. That was easy enough – the only entrance to the Chamber he knew about, assuming there even were any others, was inside the bathroom Myrtle haunted. A bit inconvenient if he had to converse with Myrtle each time he visited the Chamber, but probably less inconvenient than everyone knowing about his talents and the existence of the Chamber.
"Of course," Harry said. "I promise."
Harry turned back to the pipe-cum-staircase.
"Close," he said, and the sinks formed up once more, the Chamber concealed. "Thanks again, Myrtle. Look, I've got to get back to my dorm—I've been gone too long—but I'll see you again soon. Okay?"
"I suppose that would be okay," said Myrtle. "Go, then—and I'll go back to my U-bend like I always do." She disappeared into a toilet, leaving Harry alone. Not wanting to get caught up again, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak on and unlocked the bathroom door and headed straight for the dungeons.
Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak before he reached the Common Room entrance, then ducked inside after giving the password. Predictably, the Common Room was nearly empty save for a few stragglers burning the midnight oil or, as the case might be, messing up instead of going to bed. As a prefect Harry technically should have told the first years still up to get to bed, but left it be. No sense drawing attention to his own night-time indiscretions.
The upper years strewn about the Common Room wouldn't have even listened to a third year prefect anyway, and weren't technically doing anything wrong to begin with, so Harry didn't feel bad completely ignoring them. He crept inside his dormitory, mindful that the others would be asleep.
As he closed the door behind him Harry noticed a light coming from John FitzRoy's bed. The haughty boy opened his curtain at the noise.
"You're late back." It wasn't a question, but wasn't quite a statement, either. No doubt he wanted to know what Harry had been up to.
"Er, yeah," Harry said while he thought of a suitable lie. It wasn't prefect duties, since that was easily checked, and 'I was vandalising school property and then I found the Chamber of Secrets' was, while the truth, contrary to the purpose of keeping his activities a secret. "Went for a swim in the prefects' bathroom and lost track of time."
That was a good enough lie. At least assuming nobody contradicted it, but FitzRoy was unlikely to question further. He wasn't one of Umbridge's Inquisitorial goons, anyway, so probably didn't have much interest in Harry and his nocturnal affairs.
"Fair enough," FitzRoy said. "Goodnight then, I suppose." He closed his curtain, leaving Harry alone. Harry rushed about to brush his teeth in their adjoining bathroom, then hurried to bed full of thoughts on just what else the basilisk might be protecting in its Chamber.