Heir Of Slytherin

Sal sat in the Room of Requirement, the glow of enchanted torches flickering against the stone walls. The chamber had taken the form of a quiet study, filled with scattered notes and open books. Across from him, Sarah hovered within the map she had created for him, her spectral form flickering like a distant memory.

"You're certain the Chamber of Secrets was built by Salazar?" Sal asked, his brow furrowed as he flipped through one of the translated passages from the Slytherin vault journals.

"Yes," Sarah confirmed. "But it wasn't meant for what people think. It wasn't built for 'pure-blood supremacy.' Salazar was trying to protect Hogwarts."

Sal sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. His words were twisted, and now someone else is using his legacy to justify these attacks."

Sarah tilted her head. "Have you figured out who?"

Sal hesitated. Tom Riddle—Voldemort—was the key to the Chamber's past… but the version of him he fought last year was nothing more than a shade. Dumbledore confirmed that Voldemort was still in hiding. So who was opening the Chamber now?

"I have a lead," Sal admitted. "I need to talk to the headmaster. If I'm right, this might be bigger than just a few attacks."

Sarah's form flickered. "Then be careful. You might not like what you find."

Sal gave her a tired smirk. "I never do."

Armed with new knowledge, Sal left the Room of Requirement and headed toward the Great Hall, determined to find Dumbledore. But before he got far, he froze in place.

A new message had been scrawled across the walls in blood.

"Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever."

Sal's blood ran cold. Ginny was gone.

And time had just run out.

Sal didn't hesitate. He turned sharply on his heel and made his way toward the headmaster's office. The password had changed, but before he could knock, the door opened as if Dumbledore had been expecting him.

"Come in, Salazar."

Sal entered, barely taking a seat before speaking. "Ginny's gone."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Yes. Professor McGonagall informed me not long ago. The writing on the wall confirms what we feared—the Chamber has indeed been opened again."

Sal exhaled sharply. "Professor, I think I know where it is."

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with curiosity. "Do tell."

Sal leaned forward. "You told me the attacks happened fifty years ago. The only recorded student death was Myrtle Warren. She haunts a bathroom on the second floor."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "You believe the entrance to the Chamber is there?"

Sal nodded. "It makes sense. No one else has died since, but the attacks stopped after Tom Riddle framed Hagrid. Whatever he did back then, it must have sealed the entrance… until now."

Dumbledore stroked his beard, deep in thought. "A very sound deduction, Salazar. But that leads us to our next problem. The basilisk."

Sal's fists clenched. "If the Chamber was built as a defense, then Salazar Slytherin would have needed a guardian strong enough to stop invaders. That means whatever's in there—it's dangerous."

Dumbledore sighed. "And it has been attacking students through indirect means… using reflections. It has adapted over the centuries."

Sal frowned. "So we don't know who's controlling it?"

Dumbledore's eyes darkened. "No. But I suspect it is someone being used rather than the mastermind."

Sal exhaled. "I'm going down there."

Dumbledore nodded. "I expected no less."

Sal made his way to the second-floor girls' bathroom, where the ghostly form of Moaning Myrtle hovered near the sink, looking as miserable as ever.

Myrtle noticed him and tilted her head. "Oh. You're not usually in here."

Sal ignored the awkwardness of standing in the girls' bathroom and focused. "Myrtle… I need to ask you something."

She crossed her arms. "You're not here to make fun of me, are you? Peeves already calls me Moaning Myrtle enough."

"I'm here because I need to know how you died."

Myrtle blinked. "Oh. No one's asked me that in a long time…"

Sal stayed silent, letting her process her thoughts.

"I remember it was an awful day," she said, her ghostly form shifting uneasily. "Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses, so I ran into the bathroom to hide."

Sal's heart pounded as she continued.

"I heard a boy's voice. He was speaking a different language. And then…" She shivered. "I died."

Sal's stomach clenched. Parseltongue.

"Where exactly did you see it?"

Myrtle floated toward a sink with a tiny snake engraving. "Right here."

Sal took a breath. "Alright."

This was it.

Sal placed his hand on the snake engraving. The air felt heavy, charged with ancient magic. He focused his magic, remembering the connection to Albion's power—his birthright—before whispering,

"Open."

The sink began to shift, twisting and unraveling as a passageway appeared beneath it. A deep, eerie tunnel stretched into the unknown.

Sal stepped back, exhaling. "No turning back now."

Dumbledore's words echoed in his mind. The basilisk will be waiting.

Sal had no choice. Ginny was running out of time.

Sal hurried through the halls, his mind racing as he processed what he had found in Myrtle's bathroom. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets—he had finally located it. But there was no way he was facing a basilisk alone. He needed backup.

As he exited the bathroom, he nearly collided with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and—of all people—Gilderoy Lockhart.

Sal blinked. "Harry? What are you doing here? And why, out of all people, do you have this fraud with you?" He gestured at Lockhart, who straightened his robes with a pompous air.

"We think we found the entrance to the Chamber," Hermione said quickly, looking worried but determined. "And we needed a professor."

Sal snorted, crossing his arms. "You needed a professor—so you picked him?" He jabbed a thumb at Lockhart, who gave them all a dazzling, confident smile.

"My dear boy," Lockhart interjected, "I assure you, I am the perfect choice for this heroic endeavor! After all, it was only last year that I single-handedly banished the Bandon Banshee—"

"That never happened." Sal cut him off. "And we already found the entrance."

Harry's eyes widened. "You did?!"

Sal nodded. "And I was about to call for backup. I am not fighting a basilisk alone, no matter how good I am." He pulled out his communication rune and activated it.

"Tonks, are you there?"

A moment later, Tonks's voice echoed from the rune. "Hey, Sal! Wow, this thing really does have good range. What's up?"

Sal smiled. "Want to help me kill a basilisk?"

There was silence for a beat. Then—

"Bloody hell, Sal! You don't just casually ask someone if they want to fight a giant death snake!"

Sal chuckled. "So… is that a yes?"

Tonks groaned. "You're unbelievable. Fine. But I'm bringing backup. Meet you there."

"Who are you bringing?" Sal asked.

"Mad-Eye."

Sal blinked. "You know what? Good call."

Lockhart clapped his hands together, looking pleased with himself. "Well, it seems reinforcements are arriving. But really, dear boy, with me here, there's no need—"

"Shut up, Lockhart."

Sal waved his wand and focused his magic on Hogwarts itself. Being connected to the castle had its perks—like temporarily overriding its protections. With a flick of his wrist, he allowed apparition in a single cleared space.

Moments later, with a sharp crack, Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody appeared.

"What the hell are we doing in a bloody bathroom?" Mad-Eye grumbled, his magical eye scanning the room.

Tonks smirked. "Perks of having a best friend who owns the castle."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "That's not how Hogwarts works!"

Sal retorted. "You'd be surprised."

"Alright," Sal said, turning t Ron. "You, along with Hermione and Lockhart, go tell the professors what's happening. Tonks, Mad-Eye, Harry and I will handle the basilisk."

Ron frowned. "Wait, so we don't get to fight the giant snake?"

"You want to fight a basilisk?!" Hermione smacked Ron's arm. "Are you insane?!"

Lockhart, however, was relieved. "Ah, well! Very well, very well. A shame, really, but I suppose it makes sense for professionals such as yourselves to handle this task."

Sal ignored him and led Harry, Tonks, and Moody into the now-open passage.

The tunnel led them deep beneath Hogwarts, where the air grew damp and thick with magic. The ground beneath them was littered with bones.

Harry shivered. "What are these?"

"Basilisk shed skin," Mad-Eye growled. "Thing's been down here a long time."

Sal moved cautiously, feeling the magic in the air shift. Then, in the dim torchlight, he spotted a massive stone statue—the likeness of Salazar Slytherin himself.

And beneath it—Ginny Weasley lay motionless.

"Ginny!" Harry rushed forward, but Sal held out an arm.

"Wait." His voice was sharp, serious. "Something's not right."

Tonks frowned. "Yeah… it's too quiet."

A shadow stirred from the darkness.

"Ah… so you've finally arrived."

From the shadows stepped a tall, dark-haired boy in Slytherin robes. He smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Harry froze. "Who… are you?"

The boy answered. "Tom Riddle."

Sal felt a chill run down his spine. "You're the one behind this."

Riddle's menacing smile widened. "Very astute, my dear heir. But you are mistaken."

"You are no heir of Slytherin. You're just a shade of a dead man," Sal growled, stepping forward.

Tom's smile turned cruel. "You should have been on my side, Salazar. We could have ruled together. But you have chosen the path of the weak. For that, you will die."

Behind him, a massive pair of golden eyes appeared.

The basilisk had awakened.

Sal turned to Harry. "You protect Ginny. Tonks, Mad-Eye—you handle Riddle. I'll deal with the basilisk."

Tonks cracked her knuckles. "Finally. Time to punch Voldemort in the face."

Riddle laughed. "Oh, you'll regret that."

The basilisk lunged.

Sal barely dodged as massive fangs slammed into the stone floor, shaking the chamber. His wand wasn't going to be enough.

Then—he heard a whisper in his mind.

The Sorting Hat.

Sal reached into it and felt a hilt.

With a sharp pull, he drew the Sword of Gryffindor.

Riddle's eyes widened. "No… that's impossible!"

Sal twirled the blade and smirked. "Not so impossible now, is it?"

The basilisk struck again—Sal leaped, dodging the fangs, and slashed downward.

The blade cut deep, black blood splattered across the chamber as the basilisk shrieked in agony.

Sal landed, breathing heavily. The beast thrashed, its massive tail smashing pillars.

With one last, powerful swing, Sal drove the sword straight through its skull, piercing its brain.

The basilisk let out a final, horrible shriek before it collapsed, dead.

Tom Riddle screamed.

Mad-Eye took the chance. "Reducto!"

The spell obliterated Riddle's diary, sending dark energy screaming into the air.

Tom Riddle vanished.

Ginny stirred, her breathing shallow but steady.

Moments later, Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived, followed by Snape and a panicked Arthur Weasley.

Arthur rushed to Ginny, pulling her into his arms.

"She'll be fine," Mad-Eye grunted. "We got to her in time."

Tonks smiled, nudging Sal. "Another day, another crisis. You okay?"

Sal exhaled. He looked at the Sword of Gryffindor, still slick with basilisk blood.

He wasn't just the heir of Slytherin. He was the heir of all the houses.

"Well done," Dumbledore said softly, surveying the scene. His eyes twinkled with pride—and just a little concern.

Sal exhaled. "Took you long enough."

McGonagall gasped at the basilisk, while Snape looked at Sal with something akin to respect.

Tonks patted Sal's shoulder. "Well, that was fun."

Sal snorted. "Next time, let's fight something smaller."

Tonks grinned. "Where's the fun in that?"