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"So, there are two urgent issues we must resolve immediately," Sargeras said, his eyes sweeping across everyone present, pausing briefly on each face. "Where exactly is the Chamber of Secrets located? And… who was it that opened it?"
"The location of the Chamber truly is a troubling matter..." said Professor Flitwick, frowning deeply, his voice filled with concern. "After all, hiding such a massive basilisk inside the castle without anyone noticing? That's utterly impossible — it sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale!"
Everyone's mind instantly raced through the castle's layout, searching every possible corner in their imagination — from the soaring towers to the lowest depths of the dungeons — yet no one could come up with a single place that made any sense.
"Flitwick's right…" said Professor McGonagall, her lips pressed into a tight, tense line as she spoke in a low and grave tone. "I've racked my brain, turned it inside out, and still I can't think of a single spot in the castle that could hide a creature of that size without leaving the slightest trace."
"The underground pipes," Sargeras said after a brief moment of contemplation, his tone suddenly becoming firm and certain. "For a snake, there's no better hiding place. That would be the perfect place for a basilisk to move undetected."
It was, by far, the most logical theory… unless they were somehow dealing with a ghost serpent that could pass through walls.
"Hmph…" Snape interjected with a cold, cutting voice, throwing a bucket of icy doubt over the discussion right on cue. "An interesting idea. However… Hogwarts' underground pipe system has been expanded and rebuilt over the course of a thousand years. It's already grown so twisted and vast that it's practically a labyrinth. Who exactly has the ability — or more importantly, the patience — to carry out a thorough inspection of it all?"
No one replied. That was, indeed, the heart of the problem. The underground network beneath Hogwarts was far too intricate and disorienting. An ordinary person wouldn't last even half an hour inside before losing their way entirely.
"For now, let's set aside the difficulty of combing through the pipes…"
Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. "At this moment, our top priority is to ensure the safety of every single student in this castle."
His gaze swept over everyone like a beam of scorching light. "We must lock the school down and keep watch with the utmost vigilance. We cannot, under any circumstances, allow that basilisk to harm another child. Until we find a viable solution, keeping the students safe is our bottom line."
The professors all nodded in quiet agreement upon hearing those words, each of them aware of the weight they carried.
"But I still firmly believe…" someone said sharply, "…that the most urgent task right now is to uncover the one behind this!"
Sargeras spoke with a voice that carried a cold, dangerous edge — it was low and steady, yet filled with an unmistakable killing intent. "As long as we can find the one responsible, we can trace the path back to the Chamber of Secrets itself. Once we know where it is, we'll be able to confront the basilisk directly and end this threat once and for all; cut it off at the root, so it never returns."
And once that's done, what could a so-called heir possibly stir up without their fangs and claws? As for the basilisk? Haha. If it manages to withstand even one of his spells, then it can count itself lucky.
The hospital wing suddenly fell silent. The air grew still, heavy with the intensity of the moment.
Lockhart swallowed hard, his throat visibly moving. He was just about to speak, but Sargeras turned and shot him a single look — sharp and wordless. That was all it took to silence him completely.
"Sargeras, I completely agree with your objective," Dumbledore responded calmly, his tone as steady and composed as ever. "But even as we pursue the truth behind all this, the safety of our students remains just as important."
The old headmaster turned to glance at the others, his eyes quietly urging their thoughts. "Now then… does any of you have any suggestions regarding this?"
Lockhart opened his mouth again, clearly eager to make himself heard this time. But before he could get a word out, Sargeras glanced at him once more, and that simple look made him deflate almost instantly. Whatever he'd been about to say, he swallowed it down without a fuss… again.
"…Perhaps," Professor McGonagall began cautiously, "we ought to consider keeping this matter quiet for the time being?"
She glanced at the others, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable note of concern. "If word about the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets spreads among the students, I fear it could spark a wave of panic that would be extremely difficult to control."
At her words, the other professors immediately pictured the chaos that might erupt in the Great Hall. Their expressions darkened, and one by one, they gave solemn nods of agreement.
Dumbledore gave a slight nod as well, though he didn't say anything in response.
"I, on the other hand, happen to have a brilliant idea!" Lockhart finally seized his moment, puffing out his chest with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. His face lit up with that signature, gleaming smile—confident, theatrical, and utterly self-assured. "Why don't we set up a Dueling Club? A safe and thrilling way for students to learn how to defend themselves!"
He clapped his hands together, as though the inspiration had struck him on the spot. "And naturally, it would be led by none other than myself, Gilderoy Lockhart. As the current Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, it falls directly within my realm of duty. And of course, it would also be the perfect stage to… uh, showcase some of my vast experience and unparalleled expertise with the younger generation!"
As he finished speaking, he looked eagerly around the room, clearly expecting applause or at least some nods of support.
But the response was far from what he'd hoped for.
Professor Flitwick was staring intently at his fingernails, pretending to inspect them with the utmost concentration. Professor McGonagall's lips twitched ever so slightly, a barely perceptible tug that might have been the beginning of a smirk… or perhaps a grimace. Snape, on the other hand, didn't bother hiding his reaction at all. He rolled his eyes with theatrical exaggeration, then gave a sharp, disdainful snort through his nose, the sound cutting through the quiet like a dagger of pure contempt.
"Practical ability takes time and discipline to develop, Professor Lockhart."
In the end, it was Snape who replied, his tone flat and cutting, as if he hadn't heard a single word of Lockhart's self-congratulatory speech. "Right now, what's more urgent is to strictly forbid students from wandering the castle alone. Unless absolutely necessary, no one is to move about the halls without supervision."
He deliberately stressed the words "forbid" and "no one," as if he were laying down a decree for unruly children who needed to be reminded of the rules… rules that, if broken, could cost them house points.
"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded in agreement, his tone approving and steady. "What about you, Sargeras? Do you have any thoughts?"
Sargeras paused for a moment, clearly thinking things through. Then he spoke up, his voice calm but resolute.
"I believe we need to provide the students with at least the minimum level of reliable protection…" he said slowly, each word carrying weight. "Every student must be required to wear protective glasses. That should be mandatory! This way, even if someone is unfortunate enough to come face-to-face with the basilisk, the worst they'll suffer is petrification, not instant loss of life."
"That is a very worthwhile suggestion," Dumbledore said, and a brief flicker of approval flashed in his eyes. He nodded, this time with more emphasis. "Simple, straightforward, and effective."
The old headmaster then turned to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, I'll entrust this matter to you. Make sure every student wears glasses at all times. No exceptions, not until the basilisk has been dealt with."
Professor McGonagall gave a solemn nod, her expression grave.
Sargeras took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing.
"In addition to that," he said, his tone still firm, "I recommend installing mirrored surfaces at every corridor corner, every hallway junction throughout the castle. That way, students can spot the creature's reflection before it sees them directly."
"No problem at all."
Dumbledore voiced no objection. He immediately began organizing the next steps, calmly assigning responsibilities to each professor present, his tone composed and methodical, as though he had rehearsed such crisis responses a hundred times before.
"To be safe," he said, turning toward the still-dazed young wizard, "you'll need to stay in the hospital wing and rest for a little while, Mr. Creevey. Just to make sure everything's all right."
"Me?" Colin blinked in confusion, his voice still drowsy and unsure. "How long do I have to stay?"
"Not too long…" Dumbledore assured him gently. "Once Madam Pomfrey finishes a full medical examination and confirms that you're completely stable, you'll be allowed to return to class."
The little wizard nodded obediently, too exhausted to protest. Dumbledore rested a warm, reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder, his voice low and kind.
"Sleep now, child. You must be absolutely worn out…"
Even before he finished speaking, Colin's eyelids fluttered, then drooped shut all on their own. Within moments, he had drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
"I personally believe," said Snape, his tone as cool and emotionless as ever, "that it would be best if we ensured he temporarily forgot everything that happened tonight."
"I'll do it!" Lockhart immediately jumped at the opportunity, as if he'd just been waiting for his cue. Not one to miss a chance to show off, he stepped forward with flair and declared, "As I've said before, memory magic is one of my particular specialties. You won't find a more qualified expert than me in the entire wizarding world!"
He gave an oily smile that somehow managed to feel both proud and obnoxious, then continued in his usual boastful tone, "I guarantee I can erase every last trace of what happened tonight from his mind… clean, complete, not even a whisper left behind!"
"Gilderoy, it's not that I doubt your… capabilities," Dumbledore replied evenly, his expression serious, "but given that this concerns a student's memories, I think it would be more appropriate for me to handle it personally."
As he spoke, he reached out and took the wand brought by Fawkes the phoenix. With practiced care, he drew the full thread of the boy's memories from his mind — everything that had occurred that night — and neatly collected them into a clear glass vial.
"Ah, Headmaster, if I may be so bold…" Lockhart began again, clearly oblivious to the tension thickening in the room. He couldn't resist chiming in, voice dripping with self-satisfaction. "Your extraction technique was… well, just a touch unrefined. Of course, I mean no offense — it's just that memory magic happens to be my area of expertise, after all."
Everyone present turned to glare at him, each face now showing varying shades of irritation.
Finally, Lockhart seemed to realize something was amiss. The atmosphere had shifted. The room had grown colder, quieter. His words no longer floated; they sank like stones.
At last, he had the good sense to shut his mouth.
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[Chapter End's]
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