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Li Ming gave Snape a crooked thumbs-up, conceding the man had nailed the logic.
Snape didn't return the gesture. His voice was smooth, cold. "Since you've identified the creature as a basilisk, it seems only fitting you be the one to face it. I'll enjoy watching you… kill snakes."
Fantastic. Still me. And what's with the spectator commentary?
To Snape, the real Lockhart was all hairspray and hollow charm—an overpolished fraud who could barely duel a dust bunny. But this "Lockhart" had deduced a basilisk? That didn't track. Which meant Lockhart wasn't Lockhart at all.
If the man was an imposter, Snape wasn't letting him slip away without answers.
McGonagall, less suspicious but no less driven, pressed forward. "If you're right about the basilisk, then tell us—who is Slytherin's true heir?"
I do know, Li Ming thought. But announcing in public that the culprit is the protagonist's future wife? That's suicide by narrative law. Strength first. Speeches later.
He shrugged. "Not enough evidence. Can't say."
McGonagall sighed. "Very well. Our priority is the kidnapped student. We'll address the heir afterward."
Professor, I swear—I just wanted a book and a snack, not front-line basilisk duty.
Aloud, Li Ming spread his hands. "I can't beat a basilisk."
McGonagall studied him. Lockhart would normally faint or bolt by now. This one didn't. Odd.
Snape sneered. "Don't be modest. Nearly Dumbledore's equal, aren't you? Basilisk or not, what's the difference?"
He gripped Li Ming's arm and shoved him toward Myrtle's bathroom. If the basilisk were already blinded, anyone could finish it. Dragging you along isn't about the fight. It's about exposing you.
McGonagall, seeing movement toward action, turned briskly to Pomfrey. "Prepare antivenom. Its gaze kills, but venom alone could finish anyone. Send it to the Chamber at once." Then she hurried after them.
As Li Ming tensed to twist free, Snape pressed a wand under his chin and murmured, "Your real name. Or you're bait."
Already spotted the seams. Knew the disguise wasn't perfect.
He lifted his hands. "Austin. Dumbledore knows me. Not an enemy."
McGonagall arrived in time to hear it. She produced a folded letter, handed it to Snape. "You're Austin? The Headmaster wrote tonight. Said you intended to infiltrate. I didn't expect you this quickly. How did you get in?"
Li Ming let the disguise melt away. His own face emerged. "Walked in," he said lightly. "Hopefully Dumbledore painted me as an upstanding citizen?"
Snape skimmed the letter, lips curling. "No mention of that. Only that you bargain. So—your Lockhart routine? He bluffs, you provide the muscle?"
McGonagall's frown cut through. "And Lockhart himself? Where is he?"
Li Ming scratched his neck. "Storage room. Sleeping it off."
"'Knocked out' would be more accurate," Snape said dryly. "We'll deal with him later. First, the student."
McGonagall nodded briskly. "Mr. Austin, you said you could keep yourself safe from a basilisk. Can you extend that protection to us?"
So he was support, not spear. Easier.
"I can guarantee your safety," Li Ming said. "But can you actually kill it?"
"That's none of your concern," Snape snapped. Then, calculating: "Dumbledore says you like deals. If you help, what do you want?"
Li Ming's grin was sharp, greedy by design. "Snape's potions notes. His knowledge. McGonagall's Transfiguration expertise. And, if you see me around later—pretend you didn't."
Snape halted, sneered. "Bold. I could hand you to the Ministry instead. Enjoy Azkaban?"
That's my turf. Dementors take my calls.
Li Ming shrugged. "Pick one. I never said I needed all."
McGonagall inclined her head. "One condition, then. Agreed."
Snape gave no argument, just turned on his heel and continued.
They reached Myrtle's bathroom. Li Ming pointed at the serpent-carved faucet. "Parseltongue opens it."
Snape didn't bother. With a snap of his wand, he blasted the sink apart, revealing the shaft.
Without hesitation, he jumped. McGonagall's glare dared Li Ming to try vanishing. He sighed and followed.
He knew the path and led them through bone-littered tunnels to the great serpent door. "Parseltongue or blasting spell," he said evenly. Then added, voice laced with subtle persuasion, "One more time: once this door opens, the basilisk is ours. I'll keep you safe in exchange for either Snape's potions lore or McGonagall's Transfiguration knowledge. Deal?"
They felt the pulse of his magic but took it for shielding. Both nodded. "Agreed."
The serpentine door cracked under twin spells. Stone groaned inward.
Snape and McGonagall touched wands to their temples—insurance against the killing gaze—then swept inside.
Li Ming smirked. The basilisk doesn't stir without its master. You're burning premium mana for nothing. He followed.
The Chamber was black as pitch, darker than memory. No sign of Ginny sprawled in plain sight.
Darkness favored the serpent. The professors didn't hesitate. "Lumos Maxima!"
Twin suns flared above their heads, blazing away the gloom.
Ginny Weasley's form appeared ahead, pale and still. McGonagall rushed forward, Snape at her side, eyes raking the shadows.
McGonagall checked the girl's pulse, exhaled relief. "Alive. We must get her to the infirmary at once."
"Not so fast," Snape murmured. His gaze locked on the shadows beyond her. "This won't be simple."
His wand came up, eyes narrowing. "Come out. I see you."
In the shadows of the Chamber, Tom Marvolo Riddle seethed. This wasn't the script. He'd expected Harry Potter, not three professors—and one stranger Ginny didn't even recognize.
As a Horcrux birthed in youth, he'd spent decades sealed in a diary, never dreaming he'd stand in Hogwarts again. Tonight should have been perfect: drain a life, rise anew, and chart his destiny free of chains.
But then he'd glimpsed his future. Killed—by a baby. How? I'm sharper, stronger, better-looking than Potter—how does a child undo me?
So Ginny wasn't just fuel. She was bait. Tonight was supposed to be his first duel with the boy-who'd-ruin-him. And yet—no Harry. Just Snape, McGonagall, and a man out of nowhere. Worse, he was still only memory, commanding the basilisk but powerless otherwise.
Fine. The serpent would do the killing.
Snape's eyes cut into the dark where Tom lingered. No answer. Irritation edged his face as he raised his wand—only for the world to shatter like glass. A mirrored plane folded around them, enclosing all three professors.
McGonagall's wand snapped up. Snape braced to counter. Then Li Ming's voice broke the tension. "Relax. This is me. In here, the basilisk can't touch us. Can't even sense us."
He frowned, scanning the air. There was a fragment of spirit there a moment ago… gone now.
The basilisk slithered into view, head swaying, confused. Snape tested the boundary with a spell—sparks skittered uselessly. "Your shield holds. Impressive. But from in here, we can't strike back. That's a problem."
Li Ming smirked. "Says who?" He tore open a glowing oval against the serpent's spine. "Portal. Fire through it."
Tom's shade flickered again, far off. Li Ming ignored it. "Back shots only. Unless you want me to park this thing right between its eyes."
"No need," McGonagall said, her wand already blazing. "This will suffice." A Reducto roared through the portal, scales shattering in a burst of chalk-white flesh.
Snape's gaze flicked to Li Ming, then to the scorched mark. Durable. But not invincible. His wand carved curse after curse through the aperture, hammers pounding flesh.
The basilisk's hide fought magic, but pain was pain. Once the professors realized it couldn't retaliate, they escalated—spells like artillery raining through the shifting gateway.
Li Ming drank in their technique, nearly salivating, then refocused—snapping the portal closed each time the serpent twitched, reopening it on fresh blind spots. Each closure, Tom's shade vanished with it.
That was the key. The mirror realm wasn't just a shield—it was a wall shutting Tom off from the world. With Ginny cut off, the boy was nothing but shadow.
Li Ming crouched beside Ginny, eyes falling on the diary. What if I bind a Horcrux? Could Tom become my tutor?
The truth clicked. Tom drew power by bleeding Ginny's life. But until fully reborn, his tether to the diary was stronger. Stab the book, and Tom died. Remove it from Ginny, and he was trapped.
So what if I control the diary? Rescue Ginny, bargain with Tom. Resurrection in exchange for dark arts? He'd bite.
He plucked up the diary, grin spreading. Imagine Fury's face if I delivered a stack of reanimated corpses with SHIELD barcodes on their heads. Perfect.
Snape's instincts flared. Even while hammering the basilisk, his eyes cut sideways to the stranger now grinning at a child's diary.
"Mr. Austin," Snape said coldly, "stealing a young lady's notebook is hardly gallant. Explain."
Li Ming wagged the diary, then tossed it through the portal. "Ugly book. Doesn't suit her. I'll get her something better once we're done making snake soup."
"Unconvincing," Snape snapped. From the far side of the mirror realm, a ragged scream echoed—Tom's shade howling.
"I heard it too," McGonagall said, lowering her wand. She turned sharply to Li Ming. "What was that? And why close the portal?"
"Yes," Li Ming said smoothly. "And it's a matter for Dumbledore. As for the portal—I don't run on infinite mana. Give me a moment to breathe."
Truth was, he was testing. With the diary out, his Arcane Sight showed Ginny's life-force stabilizing, even rebounding. He laid a Restoration spell across her, and moments later, her eyes fluttered open.
"Professor?" she whispered, blinking at McGonagall. "What… what happened?"
Strict as ever, McGonagall's voice cracked with relief. She gathered the girl close. "Thank Merlin—you're safe." Her eyes flicked to Li Ming, gratitude unspoken but clear.
Snape, though, had locked onto the ruby ring on Li Ming's finger. Mirror dimension. Portals. Healing without a wand. Each pulse of magic traced back to that ring. If not for that, he'd have sworn it was raw, wandless sorcery.
Li Ming caught the look and shrugged. "Don't thank me yet. We've still got one very large snake to turn into stew."
He swept a hand. The portal bloomed again. Light from the professors' spells poured through, hammering scale and bone.
On the far side, Tom had retreated—stripped of Ginny, bound once more to his book. The basilisk, robbed of command, hesitated. Nap or kill?
It chose wrong. The glowing ring snapped open against its spine, and fresh barrages slammed home. The Chamber shook with the thunder of spellfire.
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