"Alright, let's not dwell on that. You must have another reason for staying, right?"
Dumbledore suspected Arthur had more on his mind than just curiosity.
"Oh, of course. I'm staying for the basilisk."
Arthur didn't beat around the bush and stated his intention outright.
"Care to come with me and meet it?"
"You know where it is?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.
"I don't. But it does."
Arthur pulled out the Hogwarts Deed.
It wasn't called the Book of Deeds just because it was some old parchment used for land contracts—oh no, it was much more than that.
It could display the entire layout of Hogwarts—its terrain and every room.
With this map in hand, Arthur never had to worry about getting lost again.
Well, not that he ever really did.
Back in first year, he'd already found a nifty directional charm in the library collection. It was surprisingly useful.
The incantation was Point Me—it summoned a trail of light that led the caster to their desired destination.
With a mere thought, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets appeared on the parchment.
"This is... a washroom?" Dumbledore recognized the room's layout on the scroll.
"To be precise, the one Moaning Myrtle haunts," Arthur added. "Want to take a look?"
"Of course. I've never actually seen a basilisk before."
Dumbledore's comment made Arthur roll his eyes—like he had?
The two of them arrived at the girls' bathroom haunted by Moaning Myrtle.
"The scroll says the entrance is right at this sink."
"So how do we get in?" Dumbledore asked, frowning.
"Come on, we're Gryffindors, aren't we?"
Arthur pulled out his magically modified shotgun and waved Dumbledore back.
"Stand clear."
Though Dumbledore wasn't quite sure what a Muggle firearm was doing in a wizard's hands, he still obediently stepped back.
Arthur raised the shotgun, activated every rune along its body, and fired.
BOOM!
The octagonal sink was blown to bits, revealing a tunnel beneath it.
Why were secret chambers always underground anyway?
The blast stunned Dumbledore—and woke up Moaning Myrtle in the process.
"Let me see who's being so rude, disturbing a ghost's peaceful rest!"
Myrtle shot out from the toilet and, looking up, immediately spotted Dumbledore.
"Oh! Professor Dumbledore, even for you, entering the girls' lavatory is quite improper."
"Apologies, Myrtle. I'm dealing with a potential threat to Hogwarts."
Myrtle noticed the massive crater in the floor, the shattered remnants of the sink strewn about.
"I knew I saw a pair of enormous yellow eyes back then... So that monster really did come from here?" she gasped.
"Clearly," Arthur said, putting his shotgun away.
"Child, promise me one thing: never use that weapon in Hogwarts again. This thousand-year-old castle won't survive your enthusiasm," Dumbledore said, half-pleading.
"Relax. I don't make a habit of destroying my own home."
Dumbledore said nothing, just stared silently at the broken remains of the sink.
"Alright, alright, it was for efficiency," Arthur shrugged.
He changed the subject, "Well, let's head down then."
He pulled out a broom and gently flew into the opening.
He really didn't understand why Slytherin had to place the entrance under a sink drain. The tunnel was disgustingly grimy.
Plus, the passage seemed to connect to the sewage system—some foul stench wafted through, nearly choking Arthur.
He quickly cast a modified Bubble-Head Charm—one that covered his whole body.
At the bottom, he saw Dumbledore appear beside him with a sudden pop—he had Apparated.
"Hey, isn't Apparition supposed to be impossible within Hogwarts?"
"Being Headmaster comes with certain privileges," Dumbledore replied, winking.
Arthur let it slide.
He looked around and noticed the floor littered with bones—rat bones, to be specific.
At least, they should have been rat bones, but they were much too large—closer in size to a cat.
Which made Arthur wonder—were Hogwarts's sewers that nutrient-rich?
"Looks like our Mr. Basilisk isn't great at digestion."
Dumbledore chuckled at Arthur's observation.
Most snakes had stomach acids strong enough to dissolve bone—so clearly, this basilisk had just coughed them back up.
The two of them walked and talked through the tunnels, searching for the Chamber proper.
"So, what are you going to do about Hagrid?"
"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, a bit puzzled.
"Fifty years ago, Hagrid was framed for Myrtle's death. Now that we know the real killer, how are you going to clear his name?"
"Oh, that." Dumbledore thought for a moment. "Maybe we could put the basilisk right in front of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"
Arthur hadn't expected that level of dark humor.
"A snake that big would make a hell of a soup. Handing it over just like that seems wasteful," Arthur said.
Dumbledore raised a brow. "Is it a thing that people of Eastern heritage have a certain... fixation with food?"
"Mm-hmm. Looks like you've spent some time in my homeland."
"Oh, right!" Arthur suddenly remembered, "Can you tell me about the Eastern Phoenix?"
"You're really interested in phoenixes, aren't you?"
Arthur nodded.
"I don't know much about the Eastern kind, to be honest. I've only seen one once. They're about the same size as Fawkes, but their plumage is even more beautiful. A vibrant flame-orange, symbolizing life itself. Their feathers are longer, and when they take flight, they really do look like a beautiful flame—I have to use the word beautiful, nothing else fits."
"Where do they usually appear?"
Dumbledore had already guessed he'd ask.
"Rumor has it they live on Mount Kunlun. That's where I saw one. You want to have one of your own, don't you? Well, best of luck."
"Thanks."
Arthur memorized the location, deciding to return home one day. Hopefully his fellow countrymen would be kind to a "foreign" wizard like him.
Their conversation brought them to a large, circular gate.
It looked just like the door to a bank vault—except the lock on this one was a cluster of carved serpents.
Dumbledore glanced at the serpentine engravings, then looked to Arthur.
"Hold off on using your firearm just yet. Let me try something first."
He drew the Elder Wand and pointed it at the door.
"Alohomora."
Nothing happened.
"I thought you were going to try some powerful incantation, and you just went with a simple Unlocking Charm?"
"Well, worth a shot. What if Slytherin didn't bother setting up counter-charms?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Whatever floats your boat. What now?"
"Use your gun."
"Didn't you just tell me not to?"
"Desperate times, desperate measures."
Arthur raised his shotgun, ready to fire, when Dumbledore stopped him.
"What now?" Arthur asked, confused.
"The noise will wake the basilisk. And this is a Slytherin artifact—I'd rather preserve it. Try the wall instead."
Dumbledore cast a Silencing Charm and pointed to the wall beside the door.
Arthur had no objections. A hole's a hole.
He blasted a massive hole through the side, and they slipped in through the breach.
Inside, Arthur saw that the room was flooded. Only a narrow path stretched through the center, flanked by serpent statues about two meters tall, all leading to an enormous stone face at the end.
He knew that face—it was Slytherin himself. And the basilisk rested behind the mouth.
The mouth wasn't even a meter wide. Arthur couldn't help but wonder—what if the basilisk got fat one day and got stuck?
Dumbledore glanced around and said, "This must be the Chamber of Secrets. But where's the basilisk?"
"Probably in there." Arthur pointed to the mouth.
Looking closer, Dumbledore saw the beard actually resembled a small gate.
"So... how do we get in?"
Arthur gave him a look. "Why go in? We can just call it out."
"Oh, that's a terrible idea," Dumbledore objected.
It was winter—most snakes were hibernating. That was the only reason he agreed to come down here with Arthur—to observe the basilisk and figure out a solution.
"Relax, I've got everything ready."
Arthur drew his wand and pointed it at the pile of broken rubble from earlier.
The shards transformed into a flock of majestic roosters—nearly a hundred of them.
Dumbledore instantly understood.
Basilisks feared the crow of a rooster—it could even kill them.
Arthur may charge headlong into danger, but he never acted without preparation.
Pity Fawkes had just gone through a rebirth—otherwise, the phoenix could've blinded the basilisk directly. No need for all this hassle.
After enchanting all the roosters with the Amplify Sound spell, Arthur cast Muffliato on himself.
Dumbledore, watching silently, did the same. No sense letting the rooster chorus take him out first.
Once everything was ready, Arthur waved his wand, commanding the roosters to crow.
"COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!"
The thunderous crowing echoed throughout the chamber. Hopefully, it wouldn't disturb the students sleeping above.
The basilisk, however, had definitely been disturbed.
Jolted from its slumber by its most hated sound, it slithered out in irritation.
After centuries of growth, it had built up some resistance—rooster crows no longer killed it, but they still gave it massive headaches.
It wanted to know which damned chicken was bold enough to sing outside its lair.
But the moment it exited the tunnel, it saw dozens of them.
Furious, it charged into the crowd, tearing roosters apart.
Meanwhile, Arthur cast Disillusionment and soared on his broom.
Dumbledore did the same—how he managed to hover was anyone's guess.
He whispered to Arthur, "Looks like the crowing isn't harming it."
Arthur nodded. The basilisk's resistance surprised him. Maybe because the chickens were conjured?
He didn't dwell on it.
When roosters didn't work, it just meant switching tactics.
He hovered directly over the basilisk's heart—its vulnerable "seven-inch" spot—and emptied his shotgun into it.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Only when his magazine was empty did he stop.
The basilisk thrashed violently, then slowly fell still.
Arthur scanned it with his mind's eye—confirmed dead.
He descended and stood before the slain serpent.
"See? Problem solved. The Hogwarts attack incidents are officially over."
Dumbledore, however, was not so optimistic. He shook his head.
"This... isn't over yet."
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