Chapter 125: Clues To The Chamber Of Secrets
「A wizard’s magic power is only related to the soul, but this is Hogwarts, this magical castle hides magic secrets from thousands of years.」
「It seems you know something?」 Melvin probed.
The diary remained silent for a long time, ink stains emerged: 「Have you heard of the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets?」
Melvin’s eyes lit up slightly, his writing steady: 「That baseless legend?」
「Melvin, my dear friend, no legend is made out of thin air, especially one that has circulated for a millennium with detailed content…」 Ink stains surged on the yellowish paper pages, as Riddle senior sinisterly recounted the story about the Chamber of Secrets.
Melvin supplemented the parts the diary tried to conceal based on what he knew.
In the early days of Hogwarts’ founding, the four founders were united, working to make this castle the best magic school in the world. Subtle differences in personality and philosophy led them to establish four different houses, along with common rooms and dormitories.
As more and more Muggle students entered the school, the radical Slytherin was dissatisfied with this phenomenon and raised objections, but was rebuked by the other three founders. Thus, Slytherin secretly built a chamber, so secretive it surpassed even the Room of Requirement, accessible only to himself and those he permitted.
Later, after a fierce quarrel with Gryffindor, Slytherin stormed out, and the chamber became a legend circulating in the school.
After hearing the diary’s account, Melvin feigned confusion: 「Is this legend really reliable? Why are you so certain? Have you personally opened the Chamber of Secrets before?」
「No, I just found some materials.
「According to school history records, in the 18th century, Hogwarts introduced Muggle plumbing design, building a modern and complex pipe system and bathroom facilities. The castle structure changed, the chamber seemed to have been briefly opened, and the Slytherin legend spread widely.
「But soon a student named Corvinus Gaunt intervened in the pipe renovation, and news of the chamber vanished from then on. If you know the pure-blood families’ lineages, you’ll know the Gaunt family is Slytherin’s direct descendants.
「We have ample reason to believe Corvinus knew how to open the chamber and hid it again just as it was about to be exposed.」
Melvin stared at the compact handwriting, slightly lost in thought, vaguely piecing together in his mind the process of Voldemort discovering the chamber as a student.
It started with investigating his own origins, eliminating his Muggle father’s influence, finding the Gaunt family, and noticing that Corvinus Gaunt. Through gaps in school history and files, he gradually tracked it down, ultimately unearthing the chamber hidden for a millennium.
Tom Riddle back then was wise and careful, able to catch the subtlest clues, but not mature enough to foresee the consequences of opening the chamber, which led to releasing the basilisk to kill Moaning Myrtle, splitting his soul to make the diary Horcrux, framing Hagrid, and a series of unexpected events.
As for that summer vacation in a certain year, going to Hangton to investigate the truth of the past, massacring the Riddle family and framing Morfin Gaunt—that was later.
No wonder Voldemort showed little pride when mentioning that initial murder and the diary Horcrux.
Looking at the subsequent Horcrux materials, they were basically relics of legendary wizards. If not for that accident, the first Horcrux would probably have more commemorative value instead of an ordinary diary.
Melvin reined in his thoughts, maintained Occlumency, and wrote: 「What does this have to do with increasing magic power?」
「The chamber houses legendary wizard Slytherin’s research results, which might include methods to increase magic power. Even if not, there could be other unexpected gains, like rare magical creatures already extinct. Aren’t you curious?
「Find the chamber, claim Slytherin’s legacy, and you will become a new legendary wizard. Your name will be recorded in school history, even magic history.」
Riddle tempted and incited word by word. Throughout this process, Melvin always felt a hidden magic power probing in his mind.
A mocking cold smile curled at Melvin’s lips.
If he weren’t an adult wizard with firm will and soul, and had stayed clear-headed without fully opening his mind during the exchange with the diary, letting it drain too much magic power, this Horcrux would now directly seal his will and control his body.
「This… this is too sudden…」
Melvin wrote blankly, his acting a bit exaggerated, though it wasn’t visible in the text: 「I heard Slytherin sealed the chamber, hiding something terrifying inside. Only the true heir can open the chamber and release the monster within to purge the school, eliminating all who are unworthy to learn magic.」
「Those are baseless guesses. The people spreading this news have never seen the chamber. It might hold a legendary wizard’s manuscript to make you powerful, Slytherin’s heritage to make you rich, or everything you want!」 The diary replied very quickly.
Melvin pursed his lips, still hesitating: 「But…」
The quickly emerging ink seemed impatient: 「What are you worried about? This is a founder’s legacy. Do you think Slytherin would harm Hogwarts?」
「I’m just an ordinary assistant teacher, a Hufflepuff graduate. My mind is a mess, Tom. I can’t decide now. Give me some time. I need to properly investigate the chamber materials.」
Melvin planned to make Tom wait longer. In such a tug-of-war, the more eager the other side, the more he needed to delay and keep the initiative.
The ink faded, leaving the slightly yellowish paper blank.
「Tom, my dear friend, you’ll understand me, right?」
After a dozen seconds, the diary finally replied: 「Of course.」
Melvin closed the diary, in a cheerful mood.
What good intentions could the diary have? It just wanted him to open the chamber, awaken the basilisk, and disrupt the school—best if it killed a few Muggle-born or half-blood students in the process.
The chamber could be opened, but the diary couldn’t be allowed near the basilisk.
Parseltongue, after all, wasn’t something he hadn’t seen.
……
Eight in the morning, school auditorium.
The house tables were lively.
Starting from the second week, the four teams began selecting new players. Each house was different: Gryffindor and Slytherin’s main lineups were almost unchanged, recruiting reserves, while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had open starting spots.
Per past conventions, third year and above could participate in selections, but with Harry’s precedent, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff slightly relaxed restrictions, offering reserve spots to talented young players with solid foundations.
Flitwick and Professor Sprout were discussing recruitment processes. The noobs were keen on debating, churning out novel plans, but few were useful.
As last year’s champions, Professor McGonagall was very reserved, hardly involving herself in Quidditch matters. The deputy headmaster needed to focus on other more troublesome student groups, like the Toad Choir, Gobstones Club, Wizard Chess association.
Melvin sat on the side, listening and eating breakfast. Occasionally the professors turned to consult him, and he offered some Muggle paradigms for reference.
“…If key positions lack suitable candidates, consider external aid, recruit a few from Gryffindor and Slytherin.”
The professors rolled their eyes at him in unison.
Professor McGonagall gave an extra disdainful look, because last time he lectured on sixth-year Transfiguration exam papers.
Amid the friendly, harmonious bustle of colleagues, only Snape was expressionless, quickly finishing breakfast, politely bidding farewell, then flicking his robe and heading to the underground classroom.
Draco, who had been waiting, immediately chased after.
His short legs pumped fast, finally catching up at a corridor corner. Draco panted slightly: “Professor Snape, I… I have something I want…”
“Speak.” Snape spat coldly.
Draco didn’t dare meet his dean’s eyes. He took a deep breath and said quickly: “I want to join the Quidditch team.”
“For that, find Flint the captain.”
Snape lowered his gaze, eyes narrowing slightly: “Or do you think I’ll speak for you, because of your surname, or your family’s wealth?”
Why wasn’t this going as expected?
Didn’t Professor Levent say he would persuade the dean?
Facing the dean’s intensely oppressive gaze, Draco paled, lips mumbling, the rest of his words stuck in his throat, suddenly unsayable.
“Malfoy family wealth can’t achieve all your goals, especially in school.” Snape’s tone was calm.
As the professor turned to leave, Draco, heedless of anything else, braced himself and raised his voice: “It’s not wealth, it’s skill! I’m better than Traflors. Give me a chance, and I’ll win the trophy back for the house!”
Snape paused, sized him up a few times, and let out a faint hum.
Even after the dean’s figure vanished, Draco still couldn’t tell if he had agreed or not.
He just hummed, right?
That means he agreed, right?
Draco scratched his head, then realized it was Potter’s habit and quickly dropped his hand.
……
Draco returned to the auditorium in a daze. Crabbe and Goyle were still stuffing pies in their mouths. Pansy smugly handed him a glass of apple juice with too much sugar cube, sickeningly sweet.
Not far along the long table were Flint and the others. The Quidditch players were all tall and burly, Seeker Traflors helping spread jam on bread slices. His skill was average, low status on the team, often left to tidy brooms; after losing to Harry last term, even more pathetic.
Better to swap him out for me to try.
Draco pushed the juice aside and looked up at the high table, where Professor Levent and that Lockhart were whispering mysteriously.
His gaze held some resentment, grumbling inwardly.
Professor Levent was as much a liar as Lockhart. He clearly said he’d speak to Professor Snape, but from the dean’s reaction, he hadn’t even mentioned it.
Almost embarrassed him—no, already had.
……
“Melvin, progress on what you asked me! The Nott family has a banquet at month’s end, invitation from pure-blood Twenty-Eight Families, many wizards of status and position will attend, including Mrs. Ekko from the Department of Magical Transportation…”
Lockhart said with narrowed eyes.
“You mean?” Melvin asked, feigning confusion.
Lockhart smiled smugly, pulling an invitation from his pocket to show he too was a wizard of status and position.
“Then I can introduce you to Mrs. Ekko.”
“Professor Lockhart has wide connections, truly admirable.”
“Haha!” Lockhart’s smile widened; he loved hearing that. “Magic Mirror Club matters are my matters. I’ll prepare a gift back home; this is definitely no problem!”
“…”
Watching the blond professor hurry off, Melvin smiled and continued savoring his oatmeal.
Professor Lockhart was indeed as helpful as Riddle senior.
……
Another sunny weekend morning.
Dawn just breaking, a thin light mist over the pinkish-golden sky, birdsong loud and clear from the Forbidden Forest.
Gryffindor Quidditch players trudged through the morning mist, yawning and shivering toward the pitch for weekend training, captain Wood’s fanatical voice overpowering the birds.
“Hurry up! Lads! Other teams haven’t even started. We’re grabbing first today; it’s part of our new training plan.
“I thought it over carefully at home over summer. Last year’s win was all Harry catching the Golden Snitch; our offense and defense weren’t solid enough. We only looked at goals scored, but the score was still behind. So I designed a new tactic…”
The other players kept yawning. Harry looked dazed, the Weasley twins trailing behind with puffy eyes and messy hair.
“Click—”
Shutter button. First-year Colin Creevey followed excitedly, more eager than the captain. He decided to name this photo 「Pitch at 6:30 a.m.」.
Changing into jerseys, mounting brooms, after just a few minutes of flight, a team in green robes appeared at the pitch side: the Slytherin team.
“Flint! Get out!” Wood yelled at the buck-toothed captain in the center. “This is our training time! I booked the pitch this morning with Madam Hooch!”
“But I have a note specially signed by Professor Snape.” Marcus Flint grinned, unfolding a parchment and reading in an infuriating tone: “I, Professor Severus Snape, permit the Slytherin team to train at the Quidditch Pitch today for Seeker trials.”
“Seeker?”
Wood frowned slightly: “Didn’t your previous Seeker graduate yet?”
“So it’s trials.”
A slighter boy stepped forward, pale blond hair, smug smile on his pointed pale face: Draco Malfoy.
……
Half an hour later.
The pitch divided in two: the red-robed team doing regular training, the green-robed Slytherins having finished selections.
Draco hovered midair on his Nimbus 2000, clutching a golden snitch tightly, eager to go.
Marcus Flint announced gravely: “From now on, Draco Malfoy is Slytherin Quidditch team’s starting Seeker. Traflors moves to reserve!”
Before the words finished, Draco shot off on his broom, freely soaring midair, his slightly thin figure streaking through the dawn glow, face beaming with excitement and satisfaction.
A feeling never experienced before.
This Seeker spot wasn’t bought with Malfoy family wealth or galleons!
It was a fair trial he actively requested from the dean, won fairly with his own technique over Traflors!
Draco swept across the other half of the pitch, shouting excitedly: “Potter, just wait! This year’s champions will be Slytherin!”
“I’m waiting for you!” Harry shouted back.
Draco felt great, for once without disgust—even Potter’s forehead scar looked a bit better.
The early morning wind chilled him to shivers. Draco flew several laps to vent before landing on the stands to catch his breath, gripping his now-warm broom, heart pounding, mind unusually clear.
He belatedly realized Professor Levent hadn’t deliberately deceived him, but pushed him to muster courage—the kind without regard for consequences, never advocated by the Malfoy family.
Or rather, the recklessness he once despised.
