Late at night, the Slytherin Head of House's office.
The fire in the hearth burned fiercely, bringing a rare measure of light and warmth to the damp, gloomy room—along with a trace of comfort beneath its oppressive atmosphere.
In stark contrast to that comfort, Severus Snape sat in a luxurious leather-backed chair by the fireplace, his posture anything but relaxed. He leaned forward, staring tensely into the flames, to the point that one might worry he would tumble into the fire at any moment…
Whoom—
Without warning, the flames surged upward. The sudden flare made Snape narrow his eyes. When he opened them again and his vision cleared, he saw a vague, indistinct face emerge from the firelight, silently meeting his gaze as if waiting for him to speak first.
"Some of the students have already realized the basilisk's existence."
Snape's voice was taut, his entire body like a piece of rotting wood that had learned to speak. "And the news is spreading rapidly. I expect it won't be long before the sound of those rooster-call badges echoes through every corridor—no different from when the paintings still had roosters."
"Thank you for the information, Severus," the phantom face replied in a low voice. "Can you confirm whether the basilisk rumor was deliberately spread by Dumbledore, or by his supporters?"
"There's no sign of Dumbledore," Snape shook his head. "According to my intelligence, he should be sulking on holiday in France right now. As for the other professors, I suspect they didn't even know the basilisk existed. Back when Dumbledore insisted on adding roosters to the paintings, quite a few professors complained to him about it…"
He paused, then frowned. "Are you truly certain Dumbledore knew about the basilisk from the start? How did he manage that?"
"To be honest, we can't fully confirm it either," the phantom face seemed to shake its head. "Aside from those suspicious roosters, he took no other measures specifically aimed at the basilisk. And given that old madman's erratic nature, doing something like that for no reason wouldn't be entirely out of character…"
"But according to the 'master,' Dumbledore definitely confirmed the basilisk's existence. And the reason everything has gone so smoothly is precisely because the earlier coma incidents successfully diverted attention."
"The master's wisdom truly runs unfathomably deep," Snape said, unable to suppress a trace of reverence in his voice.
"Naturally," the phantom face carried a hint of amusement. "Only the master could still toy with Dumbledore in the palm of his hand after losing his power… Of course, that also owes much to the help of his loyal servants. Don't you agree, Severus?"
"It is my honor," Snape replied, lowering his gaze.
"Heh… back to the matter at hand, Severus. Regarding the spread of the basilisk's existence—do you have anything else to report?"
"Yes."
Snape's eyes sharpened. "Our plan has encountered a serious complication. Concrete proof of the basilisk's existence remains—the ghost who was once killed by it. She personally saw the basilisk's eyes before her death, and her testimony has greatly increased the credibility of the rumors. Even quite a few professors have begun to take this matter seriously."
"…I will relay this to the master," the phantom face said after a brief silence. "However, my daughter also told me that there is a 'Parselmouth' at the school who can directly sense the basilisk's presence, and that this was a major reason it was exposed?"
"You mean Harry Potter?" Snape snorted disdainfully. "I consider that complete nonsense. That boy is just like his father—arrogant and attention-seeking. He probably heard the word 'Parselmouth' from somewhere and decided to flaunt it everywhere. He thinks he deserves the same talent as the master?"
"That's true. A gift rooted in Slytherin blood would never appear elsewhere so easily."
The phantom face nodded. "As for the basilisk rumors spreading, you don't need to concern yourself with them. Continue with the original plan."
"Continue with the original plan?" Snape frowned deeply. "Do you have any idea what corridors filled with rooster calls mean for the basilisk? Are you trying to get me killed by vow backlash?"
"No, no, no, Severus—trust the master…"
The phantom face lowered its voice conspiratorially. "The master foresaw every possible development that could threaten the plan and prepared countermeasures long ago. Do you remember how, after the investigation team 'dealt with' the so-called Banshees, they conducted a thorough inspection and complete sealing of the old pipe system?"
"At that time, on the master's orders, one of his servants located the basilisk in the pipes and performed certain safety modifications—especially to its eyes and ears. The basilisk's auditory organs have been enchanted with a special spell that filters out rooster calls."
"Of course, your suggestions were also taken into account during the process. A transparent protective layer was added over the basilisk's eyes. This prevents its eyes from being targeted by spells like the Eye-Jinx, and also ensures it won't kill outright—reducing the pressure on you…"
"..."
After a long silence, Snape let out a heartfelt sigh. "The master is brilliant."
"In that case, it won't take long before the students realize that rooster calls don't actually stop the so-called basilisk, and they'll begin to doubt the truth of the rumor. Then, once you, the headmaster, release that information, the plan will already be halfway complete…"
The phantom face paused. "By the way—can you enter the headmaster's office yet?"
"Not yet," Snape shook his head. "Even though I know the password, the office still refuses me entry. Hogwarts' will has not acknowledged me."
"The castle's will, huh…"
The phantom face scoffed. "It doesn't matter. As long as you remain in the headmaster's seat, that's enough. In the eyes of the wizarding world, the will of the Board of Governors is far more useful than some so-called castle will."
"I understand. Still, I'm worried about Dumbledore. I don't believe he would truly abandon everything and go on holiday so easily…"
"That is not for you to worry about. You only need to cooperate with the master's actions at Hogwarts," the phantom face said coolly. "Dumbledore's whereabouts are difficult to trace for now, but as long as that person is protected, no matter how much he runs himself ragged, it will all be in vain…"
"Who exactly is 'that person'?"
Snape's brows knitted tightly, anger simmering between them. "Don't think I haven't noticed your little game, Parkinson. This is far from the first time you've brought up this so-called 'that person' in front of me. Do you really enjoy testing me this much? Isn't the Unbreakable Vow proof enough of my loyalty?!"
"Either tell me who he is, or stop bringing him up in front of me!"
"Oh, easy now, Severus…"
Robert Parkinson's projection softened slightly. "No one doubts your loyalty. But that person's identity is something the master has ordered kept strictly confidential. Even I and the other governors only know his name—we can't contact him, and we don't know where he is…"
"Let me put it this way: he is the greatest contributor to the master's eventual return. Our plan has reached this stage largely thanks to the information he has provided, in addition to the master's own brilliance…"
"That should be enough to satisfy your curiosity, Severus. Continue carrying out your task. In the end, we will welcome the glorious return of the master…"
Parkinson's voice grew increasingly ethereal, like the flames in the hearth as they steadily dimmed. At last, even the final glimmer of fire vanished from the underground office, leaving only the faint moonlight refracted from the lake above to illuminate half of Snape's face—casting him in deep shadow.
(End of Chapter)