Since the underground classroom was already on the verge of becoming a ruin, there was no need to hold back.
If they allowed such a massive basilisk to rampage through the castle, leading to the deaths of curious young wizards, it would be a failure on the part of Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Harry Potter.
Fawkes was crying out incessantly, but compared to its usual leisurely, melodic chirps, the phoenix's calls now sounded urgent, accompanied by the rapid flapping of its wings. Fawkes soared above the basilisk's head, swooping down to peck at its eyes whenever it tried to attack anyone in the room, forcing the creature to dodge.
Dumbledore tentatively cast a few spells, but truth be told, they weren't very effective. When his spells struck the basilisk's body, its emerald scales deflected them like smooth mirrors.
"Careful, Dumbledore!" Harry roared.
He tore a massive chunk of stone—tall as an adult—from the castle wall. The fire elementals cheered and leaped, instantly melting the stone into a blazing mass of molten lava. The heat was so intense that even those standing several meters away could feel it radiating, making it nearly impossible to approach.
Lava Burst!
No fancy tricks—Harry hurled the searing lava at the basilisk. The molten mass, with its oppressive heat and weight from the physical world, struck the creature's thick body, causing a section to bend unnaturally outward. The basilisk let out a pained hiss.
It thrashed.
It writhed violently.
The basilisk's massive body twisted frantically in the cramped classroom, pulverizing desks, chairs, plates, and old wooden cabinets into dust. Its thick, serpentine form swept recklessly through the room, nearly hitting Dumbledore. The old man, however, moved with an agility that belied his age, dodging swiftly.
But Harry's assault didn't stop there. Years of combat experience had taught him two things: never hold back in a fight, and always ensure the enemy is truly dead before celebrating.
Before Dumbledore could say anything, Harry ripped another chunk of the wall free, melted it into a boiling mass of lava, and flung it at the basilisk.
"Wait, Harry!" Dumbledore's face paled, and he shouted with rare urgency, "Don't destroy the castle!"
But it was too late—Harry had already instinctively unleashed a full barrage of spells.
He shifted from air elemental ascension to fire elemental ascension, the man now focused solely on dealing maximum damage.
Elemental Overload!
Flame Shock!
Lava Burst!
Elemental Blast!
Stormlash!
Harry couldn't directly look at the basilisk, fearing he might accidentally meet its deadly gaze as it thrashed in desperation. But the invisible elements could see for him—all he needed was to let them take aim.
Each roaring blast of lava struck like a giant's fist, the elementals deliberately targeting the basilisk's most vulnerable spots, especially the wound already inflicted.
The elements taught it the meaning of love through their magic.
No blood sprayed from the basilisk's wounds as its massive body writhed. Any weak bodily fluids were boiled and evaporated the moment they were exposed, vanishing completely.
When Harry finally received Dumbledore's signal to stop, the enormous basilisk had been severed into three pieces. Its large, yellow eyes were blinded—Fawkes' doing.
The brave and reliable phoenix had taken advantage of the basilisk's pained thrashing, diving in to tear its eyes apart. At least now, Harry and Dumbledore could look at the creature without fear.
The scene settled into an eerie calm. Harry and Dumbledore stood at what used to be the room's farthest wall, watching the basilisk's final struggles. In contrast to their composed demeanor, the three segments of the basilisk still twitched in their last throes.
The serpent's massive body and vitality granted it extraordinary resilience, but at this moment, that only prolonged its suffering.
Fawkes flew over, circling Harry and Dumbledore before perching on Harry's shoulder.
"It seems you and Fawkes are closer than I thought," Dumbledore said, feigning sadness. "It doesn't even come near me anymore."
With a soft trill, Fawkes shot Dumbledore a disdainful glance.
"If you keep feeding her Cockroach Clusters, Fawkes might do more than just keep her distance," Harry said, stroking the phoenix's long tail feathers with an exasperated look.
Dumbledore turned his head, pretending not to hear.
"I never imagined a basilisk this massive was living in Hogwarts alongside us," Dumbledore said, a hint of self-mockery in his voice. "It seems I'm not much of a headmaster."
"Do you have any guesses about where it came from?" Harry asked.
"I have some ideas," Dumbledore nodded slightly, "but now's not the time to discuss them."
"We can talk later, then."
"Of course."
In the brief exchange, the basilisk's remains grew still, lying motionless on the ground except for occasional instinctive twitches.
Harry and Dumbledore approached.
"What a terrifying creature," Dumbledore said, closely examining the basilisk's mangled head, particularly its exposed venomous fangs and the venom dripping from their tips. "But your magic, Harry… it's even more terrifying. It's as if it was created solely for killing."
Inspecting the basilisk's wounds, Dumbledore saw flesh torn apart by the sheer force of molten lava and charred, foul-smelling injuries. Even now, faint blue arcs of electricity danced across the severed sections of its body.
It wasn't an illusion—Dumbledore clearly saw small clusters of wind elementals still ravaging the basilisk's corpse, stripping away its flesh.
Wild, chaotic, brutal. To Dumbledore, who had become a shaman, the elements displayed an unprecedented enthusiasm and vigor in battle, far from the usual indifference they showed when he communed with them.
"The other world isn't peaceful," Harry said, sensing Dumbledore's concern but remaining unfazed. "We have too many powerful enemies to defeat, and as the weaker side, we don't have the luxury of being picky about our power."
"The weaker side?" Dumbledore glanced at Harry in surprise before nodding. "I'm glad our world doesn't have enemies that require magic of this magnitude to defeat."
"Indeed," Harry agreed. "The people living in this world are fortunate."
As they spoke, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.
Soon, Professor McGonagall led a group of professors around what used to be a wall. They stared, dumbfounded, at the ruins of the underground classroom.
At least three classrooms had been utterly destroyed, from one end of the corridor to the other. But most striking was the basilisk's corpse.
The charred, foul-smelling body, its menacing face, and the dark red lava still flowing on the floor—the professors could hardly believe they were witnessing such a hellish scene in Hogwarts.
"Oh, Minerva, so good to see you," Dumbledore said, his mood inexplicably cheerful now that the danger was gone. "Have the students all returned to their dorms?"
"Yes, the prefects have taken them back," McGonagall replied instinctively before hurrying forward. "But Albus—what happened here? I mean—why—Merlin's beard!"
Clasping her hands to her chest, McGonagall looked dizzy with shock, her face pale.
She recognized the creature on the ground for what it was, and that knowledge made it even harder to accept.
As Dumbledore had said, how could Hogwarts, a castle meant to educate young wizards, harbor such a deadly and dangerous magical creature—a basilisk?
"I know it's hard to accept, Minerva, but it's the truth," Dumbledore said soothingly. "The important thing is that the students are safe. As for the rest, we can deal with it slowly—though you'll likely have to worry about repairing the castle next."
"This is no time for jokes, Professor Dumbledore!" McGonagall snapped, glaring at him. "We need to strengthen the castle's defenses, or who knows what might attack next!"
Before she could finish, Snape strode forward, his black robes billowing. His presence alone was enough to make Lockhart step aside.
"How dare you?!" Snape growled, standing before Harry.
He was furious, his brows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together. He grabbed Harry's face with both hands, forcing his head up. First, he checked Harry's eyes, then his tongue and body.
Snape roughly pulled a leather pouch from his waist, yanking out bottle after bottle of potions and forcing Harry to drink them.
"Damage from dark magic—your soul is showing signs of instability! How dare you—how am I supposed to face your mother?!"
Only after Harry obediently drank a potion did Snape seem to regain his ability to speak. He growled rapidly, his voice low but audible to everyone present.
His intensity even made McGonagall forget about castle repairs momentarily, while Dumbledore… the old man just chuckled, watching the scene unfold.
"Severus, you don't need to be so tense," Dumbledore said after Harry shot him a look, finally stepping in. "As you can see, Harry defeated the basilisk single-handedly. I didn't contribute much to the process."
"Didn't contribute much?!" Snape whipped his head toward Dumbledore, advancing two steps in anger. "A Hogwarts headmaster, useless when a dangerous magical creature attacks the school?! If your head is so full of those wretched sweets, you should step down and let someone capable take over!"
"Professor Snape!" McGonagall said disapprovingly.
"Calm down, Professor Snape. Don't let anger cloud your judgment," Harry interjected. "Headmaster Dumbledore could've handled the basilisk, but I acted faster and didn't give him the chance. Uh, sorry about destroying the underground classrooms, Professor McGonagall."
Harry glanced at McGonagall sheepishly.
"When faced with danger, I trust my shamanic spells more… Without the Elemental Planes, my spells did cause a bit too much damage to the castle. I hate to admit it, but the basilisk didn't destroy as much as I did."
"Don't say that, Harry," McGonagall said quickly. "Your eyes—Merlin, the fact that you're alive is what matters. I can't imagine if you…"
She trailed off, shaking her head.
"Thank you for defending me, Harry," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Though I have been considering retirement lately. Perhaps Hogwarts needs a new headmaster—someone young and strong enough to protect the school."
"Oh, yes, quite a responsibility, being Hogwarts' headmaster," Lockhart interjected. "But I must say, you're standing before the perfect candidate. As a third-class Order of Merlin recipient, an honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, five—"
"Thank you, Professor Lockhart, for your enthusiasm, but could you please be quiet for now?" McGonagall cut him off brusquely.
Normally, she'd mind her manners and collegiality, but this was no ordinary moment.