Chapter 55 - Purpose & Reality
I walked back through the long tunnel with the basilisk resting on my hand, like a small bracelet. The bones still cracked under my shoes, dry and old. The dark air felt heavier now that I was heading back. The light from my wand showed only more scattered remains of rats, frogs, and even a few animal skulls. Every step echoed.
When the round stone pipe came into view again, I stopped. I stared up at it. It was too high. I could slide down easily, but climbing up was impossible. For a moment I simply stood there, confused, trying to think of a spell that would not break my neck. It seems I had been careless and not planned the climbing up part.
The basilisk sensed it before I even spoke. It slipped off my palm, uncoiling slightly as if stretching after a long walk.
"You really are an idiot," it hissed, tired yet amused. "Come. Lay above me. I will take you up."
As it spoke, its body grew, not all the way to the gigantic size from the Chamber, but large enough to hold me. Its scales thickened, its body rising like a green pillar. I pulled the cloth from my pocket and quickly transformed it again into the cloak, covering myself so the damp stone and the greasy pipe water would not stain my robes.
Then I climbed onto the basilisk's back. The creature lowered itself so I could lie flat over it, my cloak wrapped tight.
"Hold on," it hissed.
The snake slithered forward, pushing its head into the mouth of the pipe. The hiss of scales on stone filled the tunnel. Then we were going up fast. Much faster than I had come down. The basilisk crawled straight up the slick pipe as if it had wings. In less time than it took for me to fall down, we reached the top. The stone basin above us shifted, opening with the same grinding, heavy mechanism again. The entrance slid back like clockwork.
I stepped out quickly and cancelled the transfiguration on the cloak. The basilisk shrank again, first to the size of an arm, then smaller, until it was hardly more than a foot long, thinner than two of my fingers together. It wrapped around my wrist like a living bracelet.
I looked back. The sink was already sliding into place, as if nothing had ever moved.
And the bathroom was silent, very silent. No ghost floated above the stalls. No crying filled the tiles.
It meant Moaning Myrtle still wasn't here.
The thought struck me suddenly. I turned to the small snake on my wrist.
"A girl died here. Fifty years ago. Do you remember her?"
The basilisk's small head lifted. It nodded.
"Yes. It was unfortunate. Her death was… an accident. The previous heir wanted to test my power. The girl was alone. She walked in at the wrong time. It was not meant for her."
"Was she targeted?" I asked. "Or was it really an accident?"
"I do not know," the basilisk replied. "I only know she screamed, and she died. I saw her reflection only. It was enough."
"But she was a Muggle-born," I said. "Many say Salazar Slytherin left you here to kill Muggle-borns. That he hated them."
The basilisk let out a long, angry hiss.
"Who told you that nonsense? Master never told me to kill anyone. I was left to protect the castle. It was his home. He built it with three others. He did not trust Muggles, yes. They betrayed wizards very often. But he did not order me to hunt children."
"But the records—"
"Records are written by fools," the basilisk snapped. "If Master wanted to kill Muggles, do you think any village would have survived him? He was powerful. Even with a handful of his students, he could have cleared half the country before anyone stopped him. Think, little master. If he were truly a monster, would he have built a school? For children?"
I did think. And what the basilisk said made a sort of strange sense. A thousand years ago, there were small villages scattered everywhere, people living without detection charms or apparition wards. A wizard as strong as Salazar could have destroyed them one by one. But he hadn't.
The basilisk let out a long, annoyed hiss, the kind that sounded too much like a sigh. "And think again," he said, his voice low and sharp. "If Master was so bad, would the other three have been his friends? Especially that big fool with the sword. The one who always wanted to jump into a fight. The man who thought every problem could be solved by swinging a blade at it." I realised he meant Godric Gryffindor. The basilisk made a snorting sound. "He would have challenged Master the moment he thought Master wanted to harm children. He was not the type to sit and watch. If Master truly wanted to kill innocents, that sword-waving idiot would have run at him first."
He moved a little, coils shifting like heavy ropes. "And what about the other one? The elegant, charming woman. The one with the sharp eyes and dangerous mind." Rowena Ravenclaw. "She was too intelligent to stay beside a man who wanted to murder children. She would have seen through him at once. And she would have stopped him herself. Do you think she would allow bloodshed in a school she helped build? She cared about knowledge, not cruelty."
He flicked his tail. Dust lifted from the old tiles. "And the last of them," he said, softer than before, almost respectful. "The kind lady. The one who fed every child, hugged every child, scolded them gently, and mended every tear in their hearts. She who gave food, shelter and love to all creatures. If Master had been cruel, do you think she, of all people, would have smiled at him? She believed in love and warmth for every creature, even those timid beings who she sheltered in the kitchen. She believed in giving food, comfort, and a safe place to every child. If Master wanted to harm muggle-borns, would she have stayed by his side? Never."
I swallowed. His words made too much sense. He leaned closer, as if wanting to drive the point into my skull. "So tell me," he said, "would three people like that be friends with a cruel man? No. They would have thrown him out of the castle themselves long before anything happened. They would have ended the friendship right there."
I said quietly, "But history says he left after a quarrel."
"Yes," the basilisk replied at once. "He left after a quarrel. And tell me, who does not quarrel with friends? Even the best of friends fight. But not over murder. Not over hatred." He stretched his neck slightly, eyes narrowing. "Master left because he disagreed about sharing the school with muggles and muggle-borns. He did not trust them. That is all. Disagreements are not the same as cruelty. Do not mix them."
He hissed again, sharper this time. "And think. If Master truly turned against them, do you think the three founders would simply let him walk away, alive, free, and able to harm anyone he wanted? Would they simply watch him go? Do not be foolish. They were powerful. If Master had become dangerous, they would have stopped him. Especially the kind one. She would have been the first to kill him without a blink. You may not know but all three were afraid of her losing temper. Her warmth to others was backed with the power and ability to deal with anything. The most kind and humble people are the most terrifying."
His head dropped slightly. "So do not believe everything you read. Many things written about Master are false. Think with your own mind."
Was the history wrong? Or twisted?
It was a thought for later. And it's words about Helga Hufflepuff was also an eye opener.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. I whispered sharply,
"Quiet."
The basilisk went still like a statue.
I whispered, "Disillusionment!"
The charm spread cold over my body, blending me with the tiles until I matched the wall.
I pulled out a folded parchment and tapped it. It was old and soft at the edges.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Ink burst across the surface, lines drawing themselves into hallways and rooms. Names moved on the map like tiny ghosts.
The Marauder's Map.
In this life too, the Weasley twins had stolen it from Filch's office, and I had borrowed it from them. I planned to study it and show it to Sirius later. Maybe he could make another one. Or teach me how it worked.
The map showed the corridor was empty now. No Filch. No teachers. No students.
I slipped the parchment back into my pocket, cancelled the Disillusionment Charm, and opened the door just enough to slide through.
With the basilisk curled around my wrist like a warm, living bracelet, I walked quietly back to my dorm. And no one saw me.
End of Chapter 55 - Purpose & Reality