Chapter 134: First Entry Into The Chamber Of Secrets
The truth of Moaning Myrtle’s death fifty years ago was something even the Ministry of Magic Aurors and Hogwarts professors couldn’t uncover. This was even more so for the detective team of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, students who were essentially re-doing something that had been done before, and in more detail.
If they had any advantage, it was their unconditional trust in Hagrid.
Melvin, feigning understanding, nodded to indicate he was aware of the investigation’s progress. He then offered a few perfunctory words of encouragement before steering the conversation back to the essay on wizard dueling.
Did the professor truly know nothing?
Hermione muttered to herself as she listened.
“Defence Against the Dark Arts is a broad subject name. When applied to a wizard, it involves knowledge in many fields, but its core component is a wizard’s personal combat ability.
“Having you analyze different styles of cases in essays is meant to deepen your understanding. We covered the theoretical knowledge more in the last class. Today’s tutoring session will be for practical application.”
Professor Levent stood up, took out his wand, and waved it around. His movements were like those of an orchestra conductor. Furniture, responding to the instruction, floated and moved towards the wall. In an instant, a moderately sized open space appeared in the center of the office.
“Wizard dueling, you’ve all heard of it, right?”
Harry scratched his head, and he and Hermione stood up simultaneously, positioning themselves at opposite ends of the open space. They stared intently at each other, a similar spark igniting in their eyes. They gripped their wands, their breathing slowing.
Professor Levent didn’t bother with dueling etiquette; such things were only for show and served no practical purpose beyond the stage.
He cleared his throat gently and said, “You may begin your duel now.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the two in the clearing sprang into action.
Hermione’s offensive spell power was slightly weaker. She had devised a strategy before they even took their positions and had no intention of engaging in a direct confrontation. She immediately created distance.
Repel Enemies Three Feet
Stupefy
While quickly retreating, she cast several spells in succession. They were light and swift, but the beams of light were dim and narrow, clearly not fully released curses. The spells whistled through the air, casting flickering shadows around the room.
Repel Enemies Three Feet
Harry blocked one with a Repelling Charm and, realizing he didn’t have time to cast a second spell, hastily turned aside, narrowly dodging the Stupefy that followed.
One offensive, one defensive. It was hard to say which strategy had the upper hand. Hermione took two steps back as she cast, while Harry took large strides forward to dodge. The distance between them remained unchanged overall.
Professor Levent stood by the bookshelf against the wall, subtly raising an Iron Curtain to prevent any stray spells from damaging anything. His gaze was calm as he observed the duel unfolding before him.
In the previous lessons, two essays had laid the foundation for their understanding of dueling, introducing concepts of offense, defense, distance, rhythm, and pressure. Perhaps due to analyzing too many case studies, their practical combat had a slight imitative feel.
Although Hermione’s magical power was slightly weaker, her spellcasting was more flexible. She didn’t focus on a single spell or aim for a one-hit victory. The power of her spells was modest, but she had her own strategy in their arrangement and coordination.
If the stalemate continued and she slowly found her rhythm, she might find an opportunity to overcome Harry.
But unfortunately, Harry’s talent was astonishing. While his casting frequency appeared slower, he already had a plan brewing in his mind.
The office space was limited, and as Hermione retreated further, the distance between them gradually closed.
When Hermione cast another Cackling Charm, attempting to break through the blockade and change direction, Harry, without flinching or dodging, despite the imminent silver light about to hit him, swung his wand and unleashed an unavoidable Stupefy.
Hermione, halfway through a step, couldn’t regain her balance and watched helplessly as the Stupefy hit her. Her clear eyes were filled with surprise.
The two spells passed each other, heading towards their respective targets.
Just as they accepted reality and waited for the spells to take effect, they saw the two beams of light freeze in mid-air, as if hitting an intangible, invisible Iron Curtain, and then silently vanish.
“Alright, that’s all for today.”
Professor Levent lowered the Iron Curtain. “You both know the outcome of the duel. Write another essay analyzing the decisions made in this duel, looking at which choices could have been made better and which opportunities were missed.”
Hermione pursed her lips, feeling a slight pang of sadness.
One was an inconsequential tickling curse, the other a Stupefy that incapacitated an opponent. The winner and loser were clear.
“It’s getting late. Hermione, you can go back first. Harry, stay behind.”
Hermione was about to nod when she suddenly looked up, glancing at the professor and then at Harry, her expression shifting as she seemed to ponder something, her lips pressed even tighter.
The little witch sniffled and replied with a hint of bitterness, “Yes, Professor.”
Professor Levent watched Hermione leave the office with a dejected look, her eyes full of melancholy as she closed the door. He couldn’t help but find it amusing, then beckoned Harry over.
Harry quickly put away his wand and sat down. “Professor, what did you want me to stay for?”
“Last year, when protecting the Philosopher’s Stone, you displayed a special foreign language,” Professor Levent said, tearing a piece of parchment and folding it into a thin strip. “I wonder if you still remember… Parseltongue?”
“It’s hard to forget,” Harry replied, his expression a little unnatural. “At first, I thought it was a very common wizarding ability, but Ron told me that only a very few wizards are Parselmouths. In Britain, they are mainly descendants of Slytherin, and they are basically all evil Dark Wizards.”
“Talents and abilities are neither evil nor good. It depends on how the wielder uses them.”
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “I think so too.”
“I asked you to stay specifically because I need your help with something: to repeat a few sentences in Parseltongue…”
As Professor Levent spoke, he rolled the thin folded paper into a spiral and slowly pushed it towards Harry.
Under Harry’s gaze, the stacked paper spirals gradually unfurled, developing fine scales. One end grew a vertical pupil and fangs, while the other end transformed into a snake’s tail, constantly waving.
…
Leaving the Muggle Studies Office, the corridor was already dark.
But Hogwarts was in its prime autumn weather, and the night sky was clear, with the moonlight unobstructed. The staircases and corridors were illuminated very clearly. The portraits on either side of the walls hadn’t fully fallen asleep yet, and if the enthusiastic Sir Cadogan were alerted, he would guide lost little wizards back to the common room.
Harry, clutching a small glass bottle, walked alone on the path back to the portrait hole.
Earlier, Professor Levent had been organizing the memory of Parseltongue and had also given him a strand of silver thread containing the playback of tonight’s duel. He could put it in the Projection Mirror back in the common room and stir it to replay the details of the duel at will.
It was like a video tape, so easy to use.
He thought it would be great if he could replay details when practicing dueling with Ron in the future.
He wondered if this kind of spell for extracting memories was difficult. He’d ask Hermione when he got back; she had a mind full of magical books and would surely know.
Harry quietly approached the Fat Lady’s portrait with the glass bottle, whispered the password, and before the Fat Lady could utter any complaints, he slipped through. He climbed into the common room in a few quick strides.
The common room still held some residual warmth from the candles. It wasn’t yet the season for the fireplace, and only the lights from the glass windows illuminated the space. The armchairs and sofas looked like dark shadows.
Hermione should have already returned to the dormitory to rest.
Just as Harry was about to ascend the spiral staircase, he heard someone speak from a chair nearest to him: “What did Professor Levent ask you to stay for, Harry?”
A candle flickered alight. It was Hermione, wearing a strawberry-red robe, her eyes wide open, staring directly at him.
Harry turned his head and looked at her dazedly. “The professor asked me to help record some Parseltongue sounds and gave me this – a playback of our duel.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all,” Harry nodded. “You waited here just to ask this?”
Hermione’s stern little face couldn’t quite hold its composure, and she seemed a bit embarrassed.
She wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but she had somehow felt that the professor keeping Harry behind was a special form of favoritism, like one-on-one tutoring.
She had always been the closest to the professor, and the sudden shift to Harry made her a little unable to accept it.
“I was thinking about the essay content, and I couldn’t quite remember some details. I couldn’t sleep without clarifying them, so I waited here for you.”
“Oh, I see…”
…
The Girls’ Bathroom on the third floor.
A figure passed through the cool moonlight and entered the bathroom.
The dilapidated tiles had peeled off, leaving water stains from dried sewage. Having been unused for a long time, there was no particularly unpleasant odor.
The damp, old wooden door was set into the stone wall, forming spacious compartments. A pool of water lay silently on the floor. Professor Levent followed the water trail to determine it was overflowing from the third stall from the right.
He pushed open the wooden door of the stall. The toilet cistern was quiet, indicating Moaning Myrtle wasn’t sleeping there tonight.
Avoiding the unknown liquid on the floor, Professor Levent walked towards the sink. By the light of the cool moonlight, he examined the copper faucets one by one and soon spotted an inconspicuous snake-like carving: “Found it.”
He took out a bottle of potion with a silver sheen from his pocket and, with a flick of his finger, used a Levitation Charm to draw out a drop or two.
The memory, also shimmering silver, was placed into the potion. The potion steamed and turned into surging mist, and a blurry figure appeared in the thick fog, its lips moving, emitting a hissing sound.
Open
Professor Levent couldn’t understand the hissing sounds, but he understood the meaning of Snake Tongue.
The copper faucet emitted a dazzling white light. Within the hazy light, the faucet spun rapidly, and the entire sink began to rotate with it, as if the solid floor and walls had turned to liquid, flowing into the sewer through the vortex.
After about ten seconds, the white light dissipated, revealing a spacious opening where the sink had been, connected to a thick, dark pipe.
Professor Levent couldn’t help but smile. Just as he was about to jump into the pipe for his underground adventure under the moonlight, he caught a strong, eye-stinging odor. It was the smell of various things sealed and fermented in a sewer, a mixture of ammonia and decaying protein.
“…”
He couldn’t help but hesitate. Was this decades-old, sealed pipe truly safe?
“Snap~”
The crisp sound of a snapped finger echoed through the bathroom. A cluster of blue flames drifted slowly into the pipe.
It didn’t extinguish or flare up, indicating the problem wasn’t too severe.
Professor Levent pondered for a moment, cast a waterproof and damp-proof charm on himself, then conjured a personal Bubble-film shield before flipping into the pipe.
The inner walls of the iron pipe were coated with slime secreted by various microorganisms and moss, which was slippery and viscous, offering an indescribable tactile sensation. With the help of this slime, the entire descent through the pipe was very smooth. The pipe’s path was winding and circuitous.
Assisted by the blue flames swirling around him, he could see many pipe junctions extending in all directions.
The descent lasted for nearly five minutes. After a gentle slope, with a slight acceleration, the pipe became horizontal. Professor Levent slid out along the pipe and landed on a damp, cold stone floor.
Professor Levent sniffed his collar and cuffs, confirming no residue remained, before he began to observe his surroundings with relief.
A stone passageway had been excavated. The air was filled with damp moisture and a slight, unacrid odor, the normal smell of a place that hadn’t seen sunlight for years. Small animal carcasses lay on the ground, apparently having starved to death after wandering in.
They had completely decayed, crumbling at the slightest touch.
It was a single path with no junctions, its direction very clear. Professor Levent stepped forward, and blue flames continuously rose, floating in the air and illuminating the dark space.
The specific circumstances of the Chamber of Secrets’ creation are unknown and can only be inferred from fragmented legends.
Among the four Founders of Hogwarts, the other three were straightforward wizards in character and conduct. Only Slytherin was morally ambiguous. He disdained Muggles and half-bloods, wishing to teach only pure-blood students. He wanted to conduct Dark Magic lessons and have students engage with dangerous, forbidden magic.
The other three obviously couldn’t agree, especially Gryffindor. Slytherin, not wanting to confront them directly, built the Chamber of Secrets alone.
To conduct Dark Magic experiments, teach Dark Magic, or for other purposes, their conflict eventually became irreconcilable. Slytherin sealed the Chamber and left on his own…
The tunnel was silent. After turning a corner, he saw a snakeskin lying at the end of the tunnel in the distance.
It was about twenty feet long. The blue firelight cast a green, eerie glow on its surface. Upon closer inspection, it had a mottled, colorful pattern and was vibrant and beautiful, clearly indicating it was highly venomous.
Professor Levent tapped it lightly with his wand, producing a dull sound like metal.
He patted his pocket, gestured, and fell into thought.
“…”
The space created by the Undetectable Extension Charm was sufficient, but it would be difficult to fit inside. If he wasn’t careful, he might break the intact snakeskin.
Professor Levent sighed with some regret, deciding he would have to bring a suitcase next time, the widest one available.
“No wonder Tom didn’t move it,” he said, walking around the snakeskin and further down the tunnel.
After a few more bends, the tunnel ended in a stone wall, or rather, a stone door, engraved with two mating snakes. Their eyes were brilliant, sparkling emeralds.
Professor Levent employed the same method again.
A hissing sound ensued, and the stone door opened.
A faint emerald glow shone on his shirt, not from candlelight or fire, but from the mysterious cloudy vapor diffused across the dome. On towering stone pillars, stone carvings of pythons bared their fangs and flicked their tongues, their thick bodies seeming to writhe, their scales shimmering with a metallic luster. It was truly a palace of snakes.
In the deepest part of the room stood a statue of an old wizard, hunched over with a beard reaching his shoes. All the snake statues in the room were his servants.
Rather than a mysterious and eerie chamber, it felt more like a magnificent and grand treasure hall.
The Chamber of Secrets, though a hundred feet long, was perpetually dark and devoid of day. Two rows of dark pillars stood like the bones of the underworld, entwined with coiled snakes, their scales bristling. They supported the dome, vanishing into the darkness of the heavens. The four corners were filled with misty green vapor, glowing like phosphorescence from ten thousand years, floating in the void. In the deepest part stood a colossal statue, the true visage of Salazar Slytherin. Its form reached from the floor to the ceiling, like a black mountain suppressing an army, its back leaning against a dark wall, almost as ancient as the underground hall itself. Its stone mouth gaped open like a chasm to the underworld, bottomless, concealing the lair of serpentine demons. Venomous fangs resided in the abyss, and slumbering dragons lay hidden, exhaling a stinking wind with every breath, a tunnel where millennium-old demonic creatures resided.
