Chapter 464 - 15: The Killing Curse

Chapter 464: Chapter 15: The Killing Curse

"We should tell Professor McGonagall," Harry said anxiously.

"You’re right, but what exactly are we supposed to say? ’Your beloved little granddaughter may have been swallowed by a Basilisk. If we hurry over now, maybe we’ll still find some undigested bones?’" Hermione rubbed her temples, then continued, "Remember what Harry just said? The snake seemed to be saying things like ’damn you’ and ’I’ll kill you.’ That means the cat-girl hasn’t been killed yet. But she must be in trouble, because the snake may be hunting her... Why would it be hunting her?"

"Remember the legend? Slytherin thought only pure-bloods deserved to attend Hogwarts. Maybe the cat-girl comes from a Muggle family. I mean, maybe at least one of her parents is a Muggle." Ron lifted the rebar in his hand.

Hermione shook her head. "If that were the reason, I think someone like me would be an easier target."

"I don’t know why the two of you reacted so strongly to hearing about Parseltongue, but why did I happen to hear a snake speaking right here?" Harry looked around. Never mind a giant snake—he could not see even a tiny one.

The situation was too urgent to give him time to think deeply. Hermione suddenly hurried in one direction.

Ron quickly followed. "If you’ve got another plan, can’t you at least tell us what it is?"

"I don’t have a plan. I just think we should tell Professor Lockhart. He’s the one responsible for investigating the Chamber of Secrets, and right now he’s the only person who might know how to save the cat-girl." Hermione ran toward Lockhart’s office.

Ron stopped and looked at Harry.

Harry pursed his lips and followed. "At least he’s a professor."

They had expected Lockhart to look flustered, at the very least. Instead, after Ron knocked on the door with his hand in a reasonably respectful manner and they were permitted to enter, they found the man still answering fan mail.

Seeing the same three students again, Lockhart raised an eyebrow. "Whatever it is, please wait a moment. Let me finish this letter first."

Before Hermione could speak, Harry said coldly, "Sorry, Professor, but I’m afraid there isn’t time for your letters. The cat-girl, Yimi, has been taken."

Lockhart looked up. "Who?"

"Professor McGonagall’s granddaughter. You’re the only one who can save her, Professor," Hermione added.

"All right, all right. I did hear something about that just now. It seems it’s finally time for me to act." Lockhart put down his quill and stood. "According to the clues I’ve gathered, the snake that little girl mentioned may have been raised by that gamekeeper in the Forbidden Forest. Leave it entirely to me—"

"That snake has nothing to do with Hagrid! It’s a dangerous Basilisk!" Harry nearly drew his wand. Hagrid had been the first person in Harry’s memory who had ever treated him kindly, and the one who brought him into the wizarding world.

When Lockhart first took the job, he had carried his books to Hagrid’s hut for a visit. Naturally, neither the process nor the result had gone particularly well. Hagrid was much more direct than the polite professors.

Lockhart nodded. "Mm, you think it’s a Basilisk. If such a thing exists, by all means leave it to me. I’ve dealt with plenty of them."

"Of course, that has nothing to do with what you came here about." Lockhart walked out of his office with his head high, looking almost smug. "As for the little girl you mentioned, I believe Peeves locked her somewhere as a prank. My investigation found that Peeves was the last person to have contact with her."

Peeves had made such a racket with that shout that Dumbledore—the oldest of the lot—was hardly the only one who noticed.

"That’s not right. Harry really did hear..." Ron objected, but his voice grew quieter and quieter.

Was he supposed to go around blabbing like a bigmouth that his best friend was a Parselmouth?

"Come with me. We only need to question Peeves and everything will become clear. There’s nothing to be nervous about, Granger. Your latest lesson should be about trusting your teacher. Remember what Chapter Three of Magical Me says?" Lockhart led them out.

After hearing Lockhart blame the completely unrelated Hagrid, Harry had already stopped expecting anything from him. But when Lockhart said Peeves had been the last to see Yimi, Harry reluctantly retained the tiniest sliver of trust and followed.

Peeves had no fixed route. He occasionally went around throwing moldy bread at passing students, but even then people did not run into him all that often. He could turn invisible too.

This time, however, they hardly had to search at all. They turned a corner and ran straight into him. Peeves was still carrying the leftover moldy bread and nearly threw a piece at Lockhart.

Before Lockhart could angrily fire off another half-baked spell, Ron stared at Peeves and pointed in shock. "Wait, are those injuries? You’re a ghost and somebody beat you black and blue?"

"A poltergeist. There is a fundamental difference between a poltergeist and a ghost." Finally given a chance to show off something he genuinely knew, Lockhart struck an absurdly flamboyant pose and pointed his wand at Peeves. "Now then, Peeves. You had better tell us where you locked up the cat-girl."

"You ought to take a look in the girls’ lavatory. It suits you perfectly." Peeves pointed at Lockhart and sang a mocking little tune. "Sissy Lockhart~ In the girls’ loo, he fits right in~"

Lockhart’s mouth twitched. "You filthy—"

"Peeves, the last time you saw the cat-girl was there, wasn’t it?" Hermione seemed to realize something.

Peeves shook his head and swayed mockingly. "Not telling you, ugly buck-toothed girl! Don’t talk to me, you hideous thing!"

"Myrtle! The ghost who stays in the girls’ lavatory all the time." Hermione’s face flushed red, but she ignored the insult and said, "Hagrid said a girl was killed in a girls’ lavatory back then. That girl might have been Myrtle!"

At Hermione’s words, Harry immediately looked at Lockhart. "You have to come with us, Professor Lockhart. If you save the cat-girl, Professor McGonagall will definitely be grateful. Don’t forget, she’s the Deputy Headmistress."

Harry was certain there was not the slightest trace of respect in the way he called Lockhart "Professor," but Lockhart was still a professor. Surely that made him more useful than a few students.

"Very well, children. As I promised you from the beginning, ensuring my students’ safety is also my duty." What Lockhart really heard was the last part of Harry’s sentence. A famous author being dismissed from Hogwarts was not the sort of headline he wanted to see.

As for the Chamber of Secrets and a giant snake... How could there really be such a thing?

The girls’ lavatory where Myrtle stayed was very close to Lockhart’s office. It was not a long walk, and naturally there was nobody there at this time.

"Why are there men coming into the girls’ toilet again? It’s like you guys don’t even care that you’re in the girls’ bathroom." Myrtle pointed at them accusingly.

"Myrtle, we need your help. Can you tell us how you died?"

Hermione’s question earned an immediate glare from Myrtle. She said resentfully, "Do you people always enjoy asking about other people’s painful memories? Does hearing them make you feel lucky and happy? One after another, you’re all the same."

"One after another? Who else asked you?" Hermione seized on the important part.

"That unbelievably adorable girl. She chased Peeves in here today." In reality, Myrtle had volunteered the story herself. The little kitty had never asked how she died.

"Where did she go?" Harry looked toward the row of stalls.

"She had her guardian spirit touch that faucet, and then a passage appeared. Not long after she went inside, the passage changed back." Myrtle pointed it out to them.

Harry and the others looked toward the faucet. Nobody noticed the slight change in Lockhart’s expression after he heard Myrtle’s words.

Myrtle muttered from the side, "Always the same. The moment you hear what you want to know, nobody thinks about poor Myrtle anymore."

A snake was engraved on one part of the faucet.

Ron twisted it, naturally to no effect. "Bloody hell. How did the cat-girl open this thing?"

"The Chamber of Secrets was made for Slytherin’s heir, and You-Know-Who opened it before! Harry, I think a Parselmouth has to order it to open." Hermione still had to do the thinking for them.

"Uh... open the door," Harry tried, attempting to speak Parseltongue.

Hermione shook her head. "No. You’re speaking normally. We can understand you."

Harry frowned and tried to remember how he had spoken Parseltongue before. It seemed to happen only when he was actually talking to a real snake. So he simply imagined the faucet was a real snake.

’Open...’

Exactly as Yimi had seen earlier, the faucet and sinks vanished, revealing a tunnel wide enough for a person to pass through.

The moment he saw that the Chamber of Secrets truly existed, Lockhart looked absolutely horrified.

"Are we really going straight in? We should tell Professor McGonagall," Ron said, swallowing as he stared into the dark tunnel. At a time like this, he suddenly became the rational one.

"But Professor Lockhart said it himself. He’s an expert at dealing with Basilisks." Hermione still had complete confidence in Lockhart.

"Ah... oh, right. Leave it to me, children. No problem." Lockhart stiffened his neck to match the rigidity in his expression.

He carefully walked at the front. "Follow me. This will make an excellent practical lesson."

"Should we really trust him? How many Basilisks can there possibly be in the world?" Ron muttered.

A moment later, everyone regretted entering, because they were sliding down like they were on a water-park slide. The difference was that this chute was slimy, steep enough to plunge sharply downward, and twisted back and forth along the way.

That meant turning back would not be easy. They should have found Professor McGonagall and the other professors first.

Their sudden landing ended with a wet splat, making it obvious the ground beneath them was still extremely damp.

"Lumos!" Harry quickly cast the lighting charm, making the tip of his wand glow.

At that exact moment, he saw Lockhart aim his wand at him. "Obliviate!"

But Ron tackled Harry out of the way. "I’ve been watching this old bastard from the start, mate!"

When they looked up again, however, Lockhart had the tip of his wand pressed against Hermione’s forehead at close range. "Drop your wands, children."

Harry and Ron gritted their teeth and obeyed.

"Professor Lockhart, why?" Hermione stared at him wide-eyed, unable to understand.

"I originally thought the Chamber of Secrets was completely made up. I have no intention of facing a giant venomous snake for real." Lockhart actually explained himself.

There had not been any reports of casualties from beginning to end, so he had dismissed the whole thing as nonsense students liked spreading around. Even when Snape told him to investigate, he had never taken it seriously.

Hermione still could not understand. "But you said you were an expert. In your books—"

"Don’t be ridiculous, child. All of that was a lie. If I didn’t say I did those things myself, would any of you believe the books?"

Lockhart said impatiently, "My work is hardly easy. I have to track those people down, interview them about exactly how they accomplished their adventures, then use Memory Charms to make them forget the whole thing before writing those stories into my books. It’s not nearly as easy as you imagine. If there’s one thing I’m genuinely proud of, it’s my Memory Charms."

He had never wanted to come down here at all. If Myrtle had not been watching them in the lavatory, he would have cast the spell on all three of them right there.

"Right. Now I should erase all three of your memories. I’ll probably have to be rather thorough, because that’s the only way to create the story of an ’excellent teacher who gave everything to rescue three students driven mad with fear.’ Oblivi—"

Bang!

"Agh!"

A length of rebar smashed into his forehead and dropped him to the ground.

"Oh my goodness!" Hermione quickly snatched Lockhart’s wand away. She looked at the rebar in Ron’s hand, then at the wand he had thrown aside.

Naturally, the discarded one was Ron’s old wand wrapped in tape. Yimi had returned it to him long ago.

Ron shrugged. "He probably never cared what my wand looked like in the first place. His make-believe classes where we act out story characters don’t need wands anyway."

"I never imagined he was this kind of person!" Hermione spat at Lockhart in disgust, abandoning her usual image entirely.

"Really? Harry and I did." Ron did not push the point too far. Otherwise Hermione might run off crying again, and this was hardly the time for that.

Ron kicked Lockhart, who was lying on the ground. "He wanted to wipe out all our memories and turn us into idiots, so let’s make him go first and scout ahead for us! If we hear anything, we’ll tell you to close your eyes. That’s the most warning you’re getting, so you don’t get to say you didn’t know what a Basilisk can do."

Harry likewise ignored Lockhart’s pained groans as he clutched his head. Together with Ron, he hauled Lockhart upright and marched him forward like a prisoner.

Even though Harry was only twelve, his grip had grown considerably stronger lately. During Quidditch practice, he had to carry an all-metal broom all the way to the pitch.

"Children... what use am I to you? I can’t help you at all." Lockhart clutched his head and pleaded. The blow had left him walking unsteadily, and the only reason he had not been knocked unconscious was Ron’s lack of skill.

Harry had no intention of listening to someone who had nearly ruined all three of them beg for mercy. Still, by the light of his wand, he saw thin trails of red running down Lockhart’s head, and some of his anger subsided.

As they stepped over uneven patches of ground, Ron looked down and saw numerous small animal skeletons that made his skin crawl.

Ron swallowed, and heard someone beside him—Hermione or Harry—swallow too. Hopefully they would not find the bones of a human child or a cat-person child farther in.

"Look. What’s that? A snake." Hermione gave a quiet, uneasy warning.

They saw an enormous long object. Lockhart’s calves were trembling. It was hard to believe he had portrayed himself as so brave in his own books.

Harry narrowed his eyes and studied it for a moment. "It’s a shed snakeskin. The cat-girl wasn’t lying, and you weren’t wrong either, Hermione. This thing is almost certainly a Basilisk."

"How are we supposed to defeat that monster while dragging dead weight along with us?" Hermione was anything but polite. Deeply hurt, she seemed determined to seize every opportunity to take a jab at Lockhart.

"I don’t know, but turning back is even harder now." Harry gritted his teeth and forced Lockhart onward.

At the end of the dark passage, they saw a wall that had been destroyed—or was it a door? Among the fragments on the floor, they could vaguely make out two snake heads made of some unknown material, with gemstones set into their eyes.

Presumably the door had originally required Parseltongue to unlock. At the very least, it should have been enchanted strongly enough that even a bomb could not simply blast it open.

That added another source of unease. They continued forward. And at precisely that moment, Harry heard the voice again.

’Kill you... damn cat... tear you apart...’

It was traveling through the pipes. The snake had always moved through the plumbing, which was why nobody had ever found any trace of it.

But realizing that now did them no good. The snake was still hunting the cat-girl, and the cat-girl was probably hiding in some corner of the pipes, waiting to be rescued—

"Cat-girl!" Hermione cried out.

Beyond the destroyed door, they entered one end of a long chamber. Stone pillars carved with coiling serpents rose into the darkness near the ceiling, and Yimi was standing among them.

"You’re all right?"

They hurried toward her. Harry, who was still carefully trying to locate the source of the voice, lagged half a step behind.

"Why are you, down here?" Yimi looked at them in confusion, especially Harry.

While Harry listened to the snake’s speech, the little kitty vaguely caught a scent coming from his forehead.

"We should be asking you that! Professor McGonagall has practically gone mad looking for you." Hermione grabbed Yimi by the wrist.

"I think we need to leave right now. I heard it again." Harry looked around, then fixed his eyes on Yimi. "What exactly did you do to make it hate you that much?"

Yimi gestured with the hand Hermione was not holding. "I saw a really, really big snake. It was this long. Then it broke my watch—the electronic one Eri bought me—so I taught it a lesson. I used my superpower, and tied it into a bow. But it actually got itself loose. Then it ran away while I wasn’t looking. It stinks down here, so I can’t smell it."

The little kitty conveniently left out the part where seeing the giant snake face-to-face had frightened her into jumping in place twice. Huge creatures always startled her.

The snake would obey the heir of the Chamber of Secrets, but being able to open the Chamber did not automatically make someone its master. Voldemort’s natural gift for Parseltongue came from the fact that he really was a descendant of Slytherin.

Someone like Yimi or Harry certainly would not receive the same treatment from a Basilisk. Earlier, it had opened its mouth and tried to eat Yimi immediately. Yimi switched her Adaptive Power and slapped it aside, and in the exchange her watch was smashed to pieces.

"She’s talking nonsense again. If we’d known she was fine, we should’ve brought an Invisibility Cloak. At least we’d be safer retreating," Ron said, uneasily looking around.

"As far as I know, snakes hunt by sensing heat, Ron," Hermione informed him.

"We need to go..." Harry’s face changed drastically. "It’s coming!"

Perhaps the Basilisk noticed that Yimi even dared brag about what she had done to other people. It finally stopped hiding in the pipes and came charging out in a rage.

"Don’t look it in the eyes!" Hermione shouted. But because everyone was so focused on where they were looking, Lockhart seized the opportunity to clutch his head and run back the way they had come.

The Basilisk ignored him. He was not its main target.

"Hiss—"

It opened its enormous jaws and lunged at Yimi with a speed that seemed impossible for something so huge.

"Meow!"

But Yimi lifted a little paw even faster and smacked it aside.

"What did you just do?" Hermione, still holding her, stared in shock.

"Don’t look it in the eyes! You’ll die!" Harry warned again. Then he saw Yimi raise her wand and solve the problem in a wizard’s fashion—

"Avada Kedavra!"