When Harry finally found Hermione and Ron, they were hunched over their homework in the common room.
"Why aren't you two at dinner in the Great Hall?" he asked.
Ron set down his quill and rubbed his wrist. "We ate way too much at Hagrid's at lunchtime. What took you so long to get back?"
Hermione looked a bit sheepish. "After we left, did the Professor say how he'd punish us?"
Ron chimed in, nodding and waving his parchment. "Did Professor Holmes mention anything? Look, we've already written out our self-reflections!"
Harry had nearly forgotten the incident at Hagrid's hut, but their reminders brought it all rushing back. Clearing his throat, he said, "Ahem, Professor Holmes told me to let you both know—each of you needs to write a two-foot essay of self-reflection and hand it in at his office tomorrow afternoon."
Before Ron or Hermione could protest, Harry glanced around, then lowered his voice. "You'll never believe what just happened to me in the Headmaster's office…"
He launched into a vivid retelling of his recent adventure. When he finished, Hermione said, "Wait a second!" and dashed off to the girls' dormitory.
Ron leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. "So now only your Parseltongue can control the basilisk?"
Harry shook his head. "But I'm not a Slytherin heir, and honestly, I still don't even know exactly what a basilisk is…"
They'd barely spoken when Hermione came running back, clutching a book. Flipping hurriedly through the pages, she said, "You mentioned the Chamber of Secrets. I just read something about it in Hogwarts: A History, and…"
She quickly found her place and pointed to a passage. "'…Salazar Slytherin built the Chamber in secret, without the knowledge of the other three founders…
Perhaps, at first, Slytherin just wanted a place to teach his students the kind of spells the others wouldn't approve of—they disagreed about teaching the Dark Arts from the very start…
Slytherin eventually had a fierce argument with Gryffindor because he refused to accept Muggle-borns. In the end, Slytherin left Hogwarts and sealed the Chamber…
According to legend, he sealed it so no one could open it until his true heir arrived at the school. Only that heir could open the Chamber, release the terrifying creature inside, and 'purify' the school—removing all those he deemed unworthy of learning magic.'"
Ron stared in disbelief. "What does 'unworthy of learning magic' even mean? According to Slytherin, does that mean only Slytherins deserve magic?"
Harry frowned. "So the terrifying thing in the Chamber—that's the basilisk?"
Hermione shook her head and kept reading. "'Successive headmasters, not to mention countless historians, have searched the castle thoroughly over the centuries, always concluding that the Chamber is nothing but a myth…'"
Harry cut in quickly. "From what Professor Holmes and Headmaster Dumbledore said, the Chamber is real. They think the entrance is probably that bathroom haunted by Moaning Myrtle. They already know for sure the creature inside is called a basilisk—they even had me record a bunch of Parseltongue phrases that might open the Chamber. There's no way it's just a legend…"
Hermione cleared her throat and lowered her voice. "Look, there's some writing next to this passage, but I've never been able to figure out what language it is. I even asked Professor Binns, and he didn't recognize it. Since you said Parseltongue is the key to the Chamber, could this writing be Parseltongue script?"
She pointed out the mysterious text to Harry, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make it out—not even by imagining the letters as little snakes.
Ron piped up, "We could show it to Professor Holmes. He's traveled everywhere—maybe he'll spot something."
Harry hesitated, then shook his head. "I think we should figure out what a basilisk is first."
Hermione gave Harry a knowing look. "Don't forget, Myrtle's bathroom has been warded by several Heads of House working together. We couldn't get in even if we tried, and Myrtle herself can only wander the nearby corridors."
Ron suddenly perked up, grinning. "Brilliant, Harry! Hermione, don't forget—we solved a bunch of professors' puzzles last year, didn't we?"
Harry nodded and whispered, "According to them, my Parseltongue should let me control the basilisk directly, but they're worried the Ministry will find out I'm a Parselmouth, so they don't want me involved. I was thinking I could get in first and control the basilisk, then—"
He broke off as Neville wandered over. Harry clammed up instantly.
"Hi, good evening. I didn't see you guys at dinner," Neville said cheerfully.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Neville, can't you see we're in the middle of something?"
Hermione elbowed Ron, then smiled at Neville. "Did you need something?"
Neville eyed the three of them suspiciously. "You're not plotting anything again, are you?"
The trio exchanged glances. Was it really that obvious?
But Neville turned back to Hermione. "I haven't finished my Potions homework. Could you recommend a few good books for it?"
Harry piped up, "Neville, did you forget I'm the Potions class rep?"
Neville scratched his head, perfectly serious. "My memory's loads better now—how could I forget? But Hermione's grades are better than yours. Professor Holmes said we should learn from the best students."
Ron burst out laughing. "You might as well just say you forgot!"
Harry scowled.
Time slipped quietly into summer.
A thin mist enveloped the towers of Hogwarts, and warm breezes off the Black Lake carried a damp, cool freshness. The sun rose slowly, painting the sky and the lake in a pale, purple-tinged blue. Even the students revising by the lakeshore seemed more restless beneath the strengthening sunlight.
More and more students joined the morning runs and reading sessions. If there weren't only a few months left until finals, Douglas would have asked Professor McGonagall to make morning runs and reading part of the Hogwarts curriculum.
As for the basilisk, after much discussion, Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic agreed to wait until the very end of term—on the day students left the castle—to take joint action.
Douglas had no real objections to this plan. But some students were already growing restless.
One evening, as they worked on homework, Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled together in a corner, whispering.
"It's been ages," Harry grumbled. "The professors still haven't done anything. I bet they've given up!"
Hermione was copying examples from her book, not even looking up. "That's not surprising. The basilisk is so dangerous—one look and you're dead. It's terrifying."
Ron nodded in agreement. "Harry, if the basilisk's been living here for centuries without any problems, it probably won't cause any now."
Harry frowned. "I've told you again and again—you just don't get it. Voldemort was the last Slytherin heir. He used the basilisk to kill someone and framed Hagrid for it. And most importantly, Voldemort's still alive—he could control the basilisk at any time."
Hermione set down her quill and sighed. "Harry, where do you get this confidence? If even the professors can't solve it, why do you think you can?"
Harry glanced around and dropped his voice again. "Don't forget—I'm a Parselmouth. I can control the basilisk. And I've drawn up a detailed plan to capture it. But I'll need your help…"
He pulled out a foot-long piece of parchment and handed it over.
Ron gaped. "Harry, we're together all day—when did you have time to write this?"
Hermione took the parchment and read it carefully. Ron leaned over and, after only a few lines, said, "Isn't this exactly like what Professor Holmes has us write before every practical lesson? The format's identical!"
Harry coughed. "Ahem, the Professor says we should put what we learn into practice."
Hermione skimmed the rest, then raised a few concerns. "Books say a rooster's crow is fatal to a basilisk, but no one's actually tested it. Are you sure carrying a big rooster will work?
And this—no wonder you hung around after Charms class the other day! You were asking Professor Flitwick about the Eye-Stinging Hex, weren't you? He must have told you it's an advanced spell.
And if you're wearing an eye mask, how can you be sure you'll hit the basilisk's eyes?"
After reading for a while, Hermione couldn't go on. She shook her head, regretful. "Harry, this plan is way too risky. The whole thing is about how you'll handle the basilisk, but if you can't get past the professors' spells, you won't even make it into the Chamber…"
Even Ron nodded. "You should have told me, Harry. If we worked together, we'd have come up with a much better plan."
Harry took back the parchment with a sigh. "Are there really that many holes? But I checked so many references for this. Looks like I'll have to practice speaking Parseltongue without looking at a snake—otherwise, I'll be dead before I can control it. Honestly, I really hate Parseltongue…"
Hermione watched him quietly. "Harry, do you think You-Know-Who is hiding in the Chamber?"
Harry nodded, looking troubled. "I don't know. But the Chamber of Secrets—no one's found it for centuries. It'd be the perfect place for him to hide. I want to catch him myself, and ask him face-to-face what he transferred into me.
Headmaster Dumbledore once told me—he doesn't dare touch me at all. So the Chamber shouldn't be dangerous for me."
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