Chapter 147: Entering The Chamber Of Secrets Together
The pipe opening at the pool in the girls’ bathroom was pitch black, emitting a damp, moldy smell.
This was the secret passage leading to the Chamber of Secrets, where a legendary basilisk was hidden, hand-raised by the school founder Salazar Slytherin, the pet of a legendary dark wizard. Ten seconds ago, a poor ghost had slipped inside.
An atmosphere of danger and unease spread out from the pipe.
Harry stood steadily in front of the pipe opening, hearing the breathing of his two partners beside him. The dreadful smell stopped him from taking a deep breath. He looked up at the two: “Calm down, friends. Ron, you and I go down to find Moaning Myrtle. Hermione, you hurry to find a professor for help.”
“We should all go find the headmaster together, Harry. We’re only second year, we can’t deal with the basilisk, and Moaning Myrtle is a ghost. A ghost that’s already died once won’t die again, right?”
Ron said with a tight throat, his face pale.
“You’re right, ghosts have already died once, but no one knows the influence of the basilisk’s gaze on ghosts.” Harry shook his head slightly, his tone firm. “If Moaning Myrtle dies twice in the basilisk’s mouth, that would be too pitiful. I can’t let her go into the Chamber of Secrets alone, betting on whether she’ll die again.”
Ron sighed: “Alright then…”
“I’ll go with you! We’ve taken tutoring classes together, we have experience coordinating.” Hermione suddenly said, “Ron, you go notify the professors, be quick. We’ll try to stall for time.”
Without waiting for Ron to object, Hermione bent down and jumped into the pipe.
Harry patted Ron’s shoulder and flipped into it as well.
“…”
Ron stared at the pitch-black pipe opening, seemingly hearing the sound of them sliding inside. He opened his mouth, feeling somewhat irritated.
“Two arrogant guys, talking to themselves, didn’t even ask for my opinion, really!”
Ron didn’t care about the foul smell at all, took a deep breath, and turned to sprint outside.
The corridor outside the bathroom was very quiet, it being the weekend, every teacher and student had their own matters to attend to, and he wasn’t sure who to find.
The closest place from here was Lockhart’s office, Ron didn’t dare waste time, but still chose to run farther to the Muggle Studies Great Classroom. He’d heard Neville mention before that the Drama Club rehearsed there, and professors occasionally passed by.
……
The deepest part of the underground Chamber of Secrets.
A figure stood before the Slytherin statue, head lowered. Here, only the bright yellow snake eyes emitted a faint glow, illuminating half of Melvin’s face.
“The magic power in your eyes is too dangerous. They’ll be down soon. To avoid a student casualty tragedy, I need to make some adjustments.”
Melvin’s muttering voice echoed, the wand tip waving in front of the snake eyes. “Don’t worry, just a simple Transfiguration of Living Beings. Fix the transparent cuticle outside your eyes to block the deadly magic in your gaze. The petrifying magic won’t be affected.”
The basilisk had movable eyelids like humans, with a layer of transparent cuticle similar to eyelids, protecting the eyes’ moisture from external irritation.
What Melvin was doing was fixing and thickening this eyelid layer, allowing the basilisk’s unique gaze to retain petrification ability while ensuring it wouldn’t directly kill living things that met its eyes.
While casting Transfiguration, he also had to maintain the Iron Armor Bubble to prevent himself from getting hit during the operation. It was delicate work.
“A bit like doing LASIK surgery.” Melvin couldn’t help but smile.
Not understanding what this person was muttering, the basilisk, annoyed by the waving wand, exhaled a breath. The foul breath was choking, but otherwise it made no other moves. After months of feeding and interaction, the basilisk had gradually gotten used to this keeper.
“Hiss…”
The bright yellow snake eyes dimmed, leaving only swirling green cloudy vapor floating in the dim Chamber of Secrets. Massive stone pillars stood on both sides, guarded by snake stone statues.
The basilisk quietly returned to its nest, and the Chamber of Secrets fell silent again.
……
“Professor Lockhart! Why are you in the Drama Club!?”
Ron wailed, somewhat collapsing.
“Hmm, why can’t I be here?” Lockhart had his signature smile on his face, looking very approachable. “I had business with Melvin, but he wasn’t in his office. I came here to try my luck, but Neville from the Drama Club told me he left an hour ago.”
He smiled helplessly, his tone somewhat smug: “Happened that I have a lot of experience in drama, so I stayed to give them some guidance. How about it, want to stay and preview?”
He had originally planned to shine at the Dueling Club but ended up making a fool of himself. The reputation he’d somewhat recovered in the previous weeks was damaged again. He didn’t want to miss any chance to gain fame now.
From the students’ mouths, he learned their drama might actually be staged. Even if the script wasn’t his own adventure story, he wanted to leave Lockhart’s name on it.
On the stage in the classroom, Cedric as the knight was charging forward, while the props crew clumsily operated the two-legged dragon to respond.
“…”
Ron turned to leave.
But Lockhart wouldn’t let him go, grabbing his sleeve: “I smell trouble. Is there anything Professor Lockhart can help with? I’m always happy to help.”
Ron just wanted to punch him hard, his fist clenched, almost swinging: “I don’t have time to mess around with you now! Harry and Hermione went into the Chamber of Secrets to find the basilisk, they’re in danger! I need to find someone for help!”
“Chamber of Secrets, basilisk…”
Lockhart’s eyes lit up, gripping Ron tightly, refusing to let go. The stage was still commotion, everyone exerting themselves for the performance. Cedric shouted as he launched the assault, his voice passionate and inspiring.
“Melvin isn’t in his office, Professor McGonagall might be in Hogsmeade preparing supplies for the Christmas banquet, Sprout is in the greenhouse, Dumbledore and Flitwick may not be in their offices. Who can you go find now?”
Lockhart’s eyes burned hot, like a knight charging with full force: “Since I’m the only professor here, I have the responsibility for the students’ safety. Weasley, tell me the details of the matter. You can only trust me.”
“No time for too much introduction! In short, under Professor Levent’s guidance, we found Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets and confirmed a basilisk is hidden inside, involving the case of Moaning Myrtle fifty years ago. Harry and Hermione chased after Moaning Myrtle inside!” Ron unclenched his tight fist, anxious with sweat on his forehead. “Professor! Professor Lockhart, whatever you want to do, hurry and go save them!”
“Oh, Merlin! Emergency, but we can’t be impulsive.” Lockhart said.
He’d been frequently sealing memories lately, his mind a bit slow. The sudden information was too much, needing time to digest and sort.
According to this student, Levent had secretly guided them to investigate a fifty-year-old case involving a ghost named Moaning Myrtle, ultimately finding the culprit was a basilisk hidden in Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets.
Indeed an exciting adventure story, but full of holes.
Why did Levent have several students do this?
Even Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic couldn’t uncover the truth, so why could a few students?
Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets, a millennium-old legend without basis—really found by a few students?
Too many doubts here. Lockhart couldn’t think of explanations, but inexplicably recalled last year’s film. It was the same three protagonists, equally hard to discern truth from fiction, with eye-catching gimmicks. Treating this case as an adventure story made all questions seem answered.
Having sorted his thoughts, Lockhart was about to dive into the performance when he saw the Drama Club members ending rehearsal and about to disperse. His eyes turned, an idea coming to him.
He didn’t know what Levent’s script was, and couldn’t rule out a real basilisk existing. Perfect, the Drama Club students were here; they could join the action and serve as bait if danger arose.
He turned with a brilliant smile: “Kids, don’t rush off. I need your help with something!”
……
Sliding along the pipe, deep underground several miles.
Landing on the wet, cold underground platform, no light sources around. They raised their wands for light. Hermione maintained the wand tip glow, Harry walking ahead, half a body length in front.
After chasing into the pipe, their sliding speed couldn’t catch up to the ghost’s floating. By the time they emerged, Moaning Myrtle’s figure had vanished.
Not waiting in place, the two chose to proceed along the tunnel.
“We’re definitely several miles deep under the school.” Harry was alert to the surroundings. “Should be under the Black Lake.”
“Remember, if you hear any sound later, immediately close your eyes. Eye contact with the basilisk is deadly.” Hermione lowered her voice, still echoing.
The underground tunnel wasn’t as complex as the pipes, almost unidirectional. Walking inward along the path, they occasionally stepped on some rat bones, weathered and crumbling at a touch.
Nothing too dangerous, just a bit scary.
After a damp, quiet tunnel section, they soon reached a bend. The dreadful pipe smell was gone, replaced only by the wet cold seeping from the stone walls after long neglect of ventilation. The bones here also became scarce.
Hermione raised the silver light, gradually illuminating the surrounding stone walls. Her gaze swept around, stopping on the floor ahead.
She signaled Harry to look at that spot on the floor, where the dust accumulation was noticeably shallower than around it.
Hermione crouched to observe: “Something seems to have been placed here, unmoved for a long time, only recently shifted. Looks like it was sizable, possibly the basilisk.”
“Recently awakened?”
Harry looked around, no sign of the basilisk anywhere in sight.
“Let’s keep going inward.” Hermione said softly.
This feeling of exploring along a fixed route reminded her of last year’s fourth-floor corridor—also entering an enclosed space, passing through layers of obstacles, ultimately facing real danger.
She couldn’t suppress the suspicion in her heart that this was another setup by Professor Levent in advance.
But seeing the stone walls and dust around, all signs indicated this place had been sealed for a long time, and they had chased Moaning Myrtle in—this shouldn’t be in the professor’s plan.
Rounding the bend, they faced a thick stone wall engraved with two intertwined snakes, lifelike, with shining emeralds embedded in the eyes.
“Probably some mechanism protecting the Chamber of Secrets, opened with a key or specific magic.” Hermione examined closely. “Moaning Myrtle probably passed right through.”
“Maybe, I know how to open it…”
Harry hesitated slightly, stepped forward to the stone snakes, cleared his throat, and said in low, hoarse Parseltongue: “Open.”
The emerald eyes of the snake carving seemed to flash. The two snakes appeared to come alive, writhing apart as the stone wall split open from the middle, revealing the Chamber of Secrets inside.
Green fluorescent cloudy vapor from the ceiling sprinkled down. Stone pillars rose on both sides, python stone carvings coiled around them, hissing menacingly at the two pale faces entering the Chamber of Secrets.
Entering the Chamber of Secrets, Harry and Hermione walked side by side, cautious and slow. Looking up, green light swirled; looking around, the pythons seemed to watch them constantly. Ahead, a blurry figure floated indistinctly.
“Moaning Myrtle?” Hermione tried calling.
But no response.
Reaching the Slytherin statue’s base, the glow illuminated nearby, and the figure gradually became clear.
Harry stared straight ahead, while Hermione covered her mouth to stifle a gasp.
It was Moaning Myrtle who had rushed ahead. Her ghostly form was no longer milky white and transparent but turned pitch black and dull, surrounded by faint smoke, lying motionless suspended in midair, her roundish face bearing an angry expression.
“Is she dead?” Harry asked incredulously.
“Do ghosts leave bodies after dying? Looks more like petrified.” Hermione’s voice trembled slightly. “Be careful and alert to surroundings. If you hear any sound, immediately close your eyes.”
Staying still and vigilant for a while, the Chamber of Secrets was utterly silent. If not for Moaning Myrtle before them, they might think this was just an abandoned classroom.
“When Professor Levent had me demonstrate Parseltongue, he left me a phrase. Want to try it?” Harry asked softly. “It means, ‘Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the four founders.'”
“What does that mean?” Hermione eyed the statue before them. “Slytherin died a thousand years ago. How could he speak?”
“We have to try to find out.”
Hermione shook her head: “I think we should head back now and report this to the headmaster and professors.”
“I agree.”
The two began retreating slowly. Perhaps an illusion from the enclosed space, they felt a sense of being watched, unconsciously quickening their steps.
The green light from the cloudy vapor sprinkled quietly. A series of footsteps echoed from behind, rapidly approaching them.
Looking back, a group of people was running toward them, led by Lockhart, who looked thrilled, even excitedly waving at them:
“Hey! Harry! Don’t worry, your professor is here.”
Ron ran behind him, along with Percy, Penelope, Cedric, Marcus, and others.
An ominous premonition rose in Harry’s heart. Looking back, he noticed cloudy vapor hanging from the statue’s head area, nearly silver-white without green light, more like smoke.
A low, hoarse voice sounded.
At that moment, Harry heard the Parseltongue.
“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the four founders!”
