In the end, Fudge simply brushed the matter aside, never mentioning the hunt for the true culprit again.
"Well then, let's move on to today's real business. As Minister for Magic, my schedule is packed—I have another meeting this afternoon," he announced, glancing at Dumbledore.
Douglas said nothing more. After all, his first goal for the day had already been achieved.
But at that moment, Moaning Myrtle floated above them, her voice trembling with sorrow.
"I knew it... I knew no one would ever care about poor, miserable, weeping Myrtle... The Ministry has always been like this..."
Fudge looked momentarily stunned, then snapped irritably,
"You're dead. He's dead too. Do you understand?"
Douglas had looked into the matter and understood the root of Myrtle's resentment.
When she first became a ghost, she hadn't belonged to Hogwarts, but had haunted Olive Hornby, the girl who mocked her. It was only after Olive appealed to the Ministry to restrain Myrtle that she was forced to remain at Hogwarts.
So Douglas stepped forward and said,
"Myrtle Elizabeth Warren, you accidentally uncovered You-Know-Who's—"
Fudge roared,
"Don't say that name!"
Douglas shrugged, deciding to spare everyone's nerves—especially poor Dobby, whose head was still bleeding from self-punishment.
"Alright. You discovered the Dark Lord's attempt to purge the school, and sacrificed your life to save other Hogwarts students. You're a hero, Myrtle—a true Hogwarts hero."
Myrtle's eyes lit up with excitement.
"I'm a hero? I'm a Hogwarts hero? Oh, I wish I could tell Olive about this—I haven't heard from her in ages..."
Douglas pretended not to hear her last words; he had no desire to further test the Minister's fraying patience.
The Bloody Baron drifted forward, sending Myrtle fleeing from the scene in fright.
Dumbledore produced a tape recorder and handed it to Snape—after all, it was only fitting that the Head of Slytherin open the Chamber's door.
With a flourish of his robes, Snape strode to the sink and activated the playback.
As the hissing Parseltongue echoed from the recorder, Fudge couldn't help but ask,
"Albus, I must ask you, as a friend—who is that Parselmouth? I truly don't know of any others besides Morfin Gaunt."
(Morfin Gaunt: Voldemort's uncle, the last male descendant of the Gaunt family, heirs of Slytherin.)
Dumbledore said nothing, quietly listening to the recording and watching the tap's reaction.
When the recorder hissed, "Open, I am Slytherin's heir!"
the tap flared with dazzling white light and began spinning rapidly.
Moments later, the sink itself slid out of view, revealing a massive pipe wide enough for a person to crawl through.
Everyone crowded around, peering into the mysterious darkness below.
Snape stood at the edge and said coolly,
"Slytherins may descend. The rest will stand guard above. Of course, Professor Scamander is free to choose for himself."
No one at Hogwarts objected—this arrangement was, in fact, Douglas's own suggestion to Dumbledore the night before.
After all, if he planned to stay at Hogwarts long-term, he needed to mind his relationships with colleagues. Giving Professor Snape a chance to shine was a wise investment.
Of course, the main reason was that Slytherin's Chamber held little real interest for Douglas. As for basilisk materials, Professor Snape had generously promised to set some aside for him as experimental samples.
There was even less disagreement from the Ministry's side. This was official business, and the fewer people who went down, the better—it minimized risk.
Only Lucius Malfoy looked hesitant. If it hadn't been Snape speaking, he might have suspected Dumbledore of plotting his demise.
And in Lucius's mind, if the Dark Lord had ever been inside, there was no way anything valuable would be left behind.
Scrimgeour, head of the Auror Office, quickly organized the Aurors according to Hogwarts' known pipe schematics. They'd guard all possible exits to prevent the basilisk from escaping into the wider wizarding world.
Dumbledore smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry. Once we're inside, if the basilisk appears, Fawkes the phoenix will arrive immediately to blind its eyes."
Douglas produced a set of specially made sunglasses.
"These glasses will block the basilisk's deadly gaze. Before Fawkes arrives, they'll keep you alive—at worst, you'll be permanently petrified."
Snape also distributed freshly brewed Mandrake Restorative Draught to everyone.
"If some poor soul gets petrified, this potion will cure you—provided your teammates don't hold a grudge... heh."
Hagrid entered, hauling a large chicken coop filled with a dozen or so roosters.
"Heard basilisks are afraid of crowing cockerels, so Douglas asked me to bring a few. They're all under a Silencing Charm for now.
Of course, Douglas cast the spell—you know I wasn't allowed to use my wand before..."
Hagrid handed the coop over to Newt.
With all preparations complete, Snape led the way, leaping into the pipe, followed by several Aurors.
Just as Lucius hesitated, Douglas turned to him,
"Mr. Malfoy, there's something I'd like to consult you about. Do you have a moment?"
Lucius stiffened, then quickly replied,
"Of course. In fact, I have some matters regarding Draco I'd like to discuss with Professor Holmes..."
The two strolled off toward Douglas's office, as if they were old friends, with Dobby trailing behind Lucius.
The assigned Aurors fanned out, taking up their positions.
Professor Sprout tossed a handful of magical plants into the passage, explaining,
"These will detect magical fluctuations in the tunnel, and block any creature that tries to escape."
Professor McGonagall added,
"Hogwarts' defensive enchantments are in place. Let's hope Salazar Slytherin didn't leave any nasty surprises for the basilisk."
The three Heads of House and the Auror Office Director took up positions at the four corners of the entrance, ready to jump in and assist at a moment's notice.
Fudge, meanwhile, was invited by Dumbledore to wait for news in the Headmaster's office.
—
In the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, Douglas poured tea for Lucius as he spoke.
"I remember last year, Mr. Malfoy, you offered to host a book launch for me. Though I couldn't accept due to school commitments, I was grateful for the thought."
The real reason Douglas declined was that he didn't trust certain pure-blood families' intentions.
His editor, Mr. Slane, had caught wind that some of them planned to use the event to mock this upstart Muggle-born who didn't know his place.
Lucius gave a polite chuckle, though inwardly he thought, If it really were schoolwork, how could you manage a launch right before Christmas?
"What a shame. I wonder what Professor Holmes plans to write next..."
Douglas replied with apparent delight,
"Speaking of new books, I've actually had some ideas lately. Not long ago, I happened to come across a diary..."
As soon as Douglas finished, Lucius's hand froze mid-air, teacup suspended. His other hand clenched tightly around his cane—the one concealing his wand.
Behind him, Dobby's eyes went wide as saucers at the mention of the diary.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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