Until leaving the headmaster's office with Sherlock, Harry still felt as if he'd had a dream.
Fifty years ago, Voldemort opened the Chamber and framed his friend Hagrid for it, causing him to be expelled from school.
Fifty years later, Voldemort used dark magic to control poor Professor Lockhart to open the Chamber, nearly killing his good friend Cho Chang.
Thinking of Cho Chang's terrified face, Harry couldn't help but clench his fists.
'Damn! Voldemort, we have another score to settle.'
Thinking this, he couldn't help asking.
"Sherlock, when you said we'd soon know where the Chamber is, was that true?"
"Yes, that's right—I actually already have a preliminary idea."
Sherlock's expression suddenly became somewhat strange.
"But if the facts are really as I imagine, then my evaluation of our Senior Tom might have to rise."
"Ah, why?"
"We'll talk about it when the time comes."
Sherlock smiled and patted Harry's shoulder.
"Don't worry. The Mandrakes will mature soon, and the petrified people will recover quickly."
"Sherlock, how do you..."
"How do I know? My friend, you've practically written your concern for Miss Chang on your face. Not just me, even Ron could see it!"
Harry: (;´д`)ゞ
After this conversation with Dumbledore, Hogwarts began moving quickly.
The entire campus underwent major construction and renovation.
All corridor corners, classroom doorways, washroom walls, and other areas prone to blind spots were fitted with numerous silver mirrors.
Each student was also required by their houses to carry a portable small mirror.
Giant rooster statues, the kind that crow appeared at the entrances to the four house common rooms, the library, the kitchens, and other areas where people gathered.
A group of roosters that would occasionally crow also appeared among the corridor portraits.
Some of the original suits of armor were also replaced with metal roosters.
When necessary, Transfiguration Professor McGonagall could bring them to life. Of course, this was just a rumor, not to be taken as fact.
Most people still believed that given Professor McGonagall's character, she wouldn't deploy sculptures and armor.
Regardless, these changes naturally aroused the curiosity and heated discussion among the young wizards.
Dean Thomas and his good friend Seamus Finnigan had an intense discussion about this matter.
"What's going on? Is our school turning into a chicken farm?"
"Maybe some Board of Governors member has become obsessed with roosters. Look at those roosters, they are rather majestic and beautiful."
"This is too absurd. You might as well connect chickens with basketball."
"Dean, what are you talking about?"
"You started joking with me first."
Such discussions were everywhere.
Lower and middle-year students were merely curious.
But upper-year students were different.
Because these measures were too obviously targeted.
There weren't few creatures that roosters could restrain, but hardly any dark magical creatures.
Then there were the numerous mirrors the school installed, the small mirrors distributed to students, and the petrified students, ghosts, cats...
The culprit was already obvious!
The basilisk that kills whoever it stares at!
The reason those attacked were petrified was precisely because they hadn't looked directly into the basilisk's eyes.
Besides placing the basilisk's natural enemy roosters, the school also placed numerous mirrors to save lives!
There are no walls that don't let wind through.
After the upper-year students found out, the middle and lower-year students quickly learned too.
Panic spread rapidly.
Under these circumstances, Dumbledore, as headmaster, bore enormous pressure.
Besides the Ministry of Magic, which had always opposed him, voices against him in the Board of Governors also increased.
Of course, the largest number came from student parents.
At this point, the number of Howlers Dumbledore received daily had exceeded Lockhart's fan mail.
However, when making this decision, he had already anticipated the result.
So apart from letting the first letter on the first day shout "Old fool," Dumbledore used his superior magical skills to prevent the sound from spreading.
Subsequently, screaming and cursing only fell into his ears alone; no one else could hear it anymore.
"Is there any possibility that he actually didn't listen either?"
Ron, while wolfing down chicken drumsticks, watched the red Howlers flying toward Dumbledore like snowflakes, then turned to his companions.
"Ron, what nonsense are you talking about?" Hermione said disapprovingly. "How could Professor Dumbledore be that kind of person?"
"The possibility is quite high," Sherlock said.
"What?"
Hermione looked at Sherlock in surprise. "Sherlock, how can even you..."
"Just telling the truth."
Sherlock said calmly.
"In my opinion, those harshly worded letters don't need to be regarded at all. Spending time on them is purely a waste of life."
"That may be so, but..."
"Don't worry about that anymore, Miss Know-It-All. I have a question I'd like to ask."
Hermione looked at Ron with obvious annoyance. "Speak."
"I understand why spiders fear basilisks but why would basilisks fear roosters?
With its size, let alone one rooster, it could wipe out an entire chicken coop, right?"
"Ronald, this question makes me wonder if you're actually the wizard born to a Muggle family."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're analyzing the magical world's restraint relationships using Muggle thinking."
"Huh?"
Seeing Ron's confused expression, Hermione sighed. "Then let me ask you, why do basilisks live so long?"
Ron looked matter-of-fact. "Because they're special magical creatures! The magical world has plenty of long-lived fantastic beasts, and even wizards..."
"Wrong. Although wizards generally live longer than Muggles, few live beyond 200 years.
The Flamel couple could live for several centuries purely because of the Philosopher's Stone.
As for fantastic beasts, very few have thousand-year lifespans like basilisks."
"I find you're becoming more and more like Sherlock, stop questioning me and just tell me why!"
"Ron, solving puzzles and exploring knowledge is actually quite interesting."
"That's exactly why I say you two are alike!"
Ron looked helplessly at Sherlock. "Please, someone just tell me the answer directly!
I asked why basilisks fear roosters, not why they have such long lifespans.
This is so troublesome..."
Seeing Ron's grumbling, Hermione said irritably.
"Of course, I'm mentioning it because it's related! For basilisks, their time always remains at the day of their birth. That is, they always live in the past, this is why they're long-lived.
However, a rooster's crow represents the arrival of a new day, so once a basilisk hears a rooster's sound, it shudders and dies."
"So that's how it is!" Ron immediately showed light of understanding. "It's truly amazing!"
Hermione: (￣︿￣)
Harry, meanwhile, looked thoughtful. "So, basilisks don't fear roosters themselves, but their crowing."
"You could say that. Anyway, as long as there are roosters in the school, basilisks can no longer harm anyone!"
Hermione showed a happy smile while secretly glancing at Sherlock.
She remembered when Sherlock had borrowed money from her earlier.
This was a secret between them that would prove useful when they actually encountered the basilisk!
Time was like the silver streams of light in a Pensieve that couldn't be grasped, quietly slipping through fingers when people weren't paying attention.
Nearly four months had passed since the third attack.
Whether Hogwarts' defensive measures truly worked, or the Chamber's heir was intimidated by the wide-ranging defensive measures of the rooster brigade, was unknown.
In any case, since then, Harry had never heard the basilisk's voice again, and no more attacks occurred at school.
Under these circumstances, almost everyone believed the attacker had permanently retired.
Peeves had finally tired of his song "Oh, Potter, you rotter."
One day during Herbology class, Professor Sprout happily announced good news to everyone, just this March, several Mandrakes had held a lively, noisy dance party in the third greenhouse.
"This means they're getting bigger. When they want to move to other people's pots, we'll know they're fully mature."
Professor Sprout announced loudly to all the young wizards in class.
"We can soon bring all those poor people in the hospital wing back to life."
Everyone cheered.
Near the end of class, Ernie even politely asked Harry to pass him a small bucket of jumping toadstools.
"He's trying to make up with you," Ron said with obvious displeasure. "He and Peeves were the most active during this period. If I were you, I wouldn't give him a good face."
"Don't be like that, Ron. He's also someone who doesn't know the truth."
"Not knowing the truth makes it okay to randomly accuse others?"
Harry sighed and looked aside. "Sherlock, isn't Dumbledore planning to leave yet?"
"He's still not at ease, saying he needs to arrange some more things to ensure nothing goes wrong."
Sherlock put down the Chomping Cabbage in his hands and shook his head lightly, somewhat disapproving of Dumbledore's approach.
He increasingly felt that Hogwarts was like a prison for Dumbledore.
Locking himself in here, serving as both prisoner and his own jailer.
"We've clearly found the Chamber, but we can't go in to look. It's really..."
Ron couldn't help complaining.
"Shh!"
As soon as Hermione heard Ron mention the word "Chamber," she quickly reminded him to lower his voice.
During this period, she had shown the same persistence she once used to question Professor Binns, relentlessly questioning Myrtle until she finally learned the cause of her death.
Myrtle was born around 1930. Like Hermione, she was a Muggle-born witch.
After entering Hogwarts School, she was sorted into Ravenclaw House.
However, she didn't have Hermione's learning talent. As a result, not only could she not make friends like early Hermione, but she was often mocked and bullied for her glasses and teenage acne.
On the last day of her life, Myrtle was mocked by a classmate who said her glasses looked ridiculous, which made her very sad.
So, she ran to cry in a bathroom stall. At that moment, she heard a boy's voice speaking.
Myrtle, already very sad, was naturally very angry to hear a boy had entered the girls' bathroom, so she opened the stall door, intending to scold the speaking boy to return to the boys' bathroom.
At that moment, she saw a pair of terrifyingly large yellow eyes and felt as if her entire body was being seized.
Obviously, she had looked directly at the basilisk without any protection, so she died instantly.
"Wait, you just said Myrtle wore glasses... then why did she still die directly instead of being petrified?"
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