Her voice followed me as I walked through the dim, echoing corridors of the Chamber.
The sound wasn't loud—it didn't need to be.
finding its way into my mind as easily as breath.
"So, my hatchling," she said, her tone carrying that faint maternal pride she rarely bothered to hide, "what do you plan for the beast? I assume that was the reasoning behind your recent fascination with Parseltongue?"
Her words drew a wry smile from me as I stepped carefully over the shattered remains of an old stone arch.
"You noticed, then."
"I notice everything that concerns my heir."
The soft glow of her ghostly form reflected faintly on the flooded stone floor, casting ripples of pale blue light.
I slowed, hands sliding into the pockets of my robe.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to face it," I admitted, my voice low, almost contemplative. "But right now… I don't think I could control it. I've become competant in parseltongue, but its far from what i would consider mastery. The Basilisk wouldn't see me as its better—just another meal with delusions of grandeur."
There was a pause, and then—unexpectedly—Lady Draconis laughed.
Not mockingly, not cruelly, but softly.
Warmly.
"Oh, my poor boy," she murmured, shaking her head, her translucent hair flowing as if stirred by an unseen breeze. "You misunderstand."
I turned to face her, brow furrowing slightly.
"Do I?"
She drifted closer, the folds of her ancient gown shimmering faintly as she spoke.
"You may think yourself unready—but even a whisper of Draconic Speech is enough to make the lesser serpents bow. The Basilisk is but a serpent, however mighty. Its will bends to one who bears the tongue of dragons. Just as how the words of gods bend mens minds to their will."
For a heartbeat, I could only stare at her.
"You're saying…" I hesitated, trying to piece it together. "That even now—with what little I know—I could command it?"
Her eyes gleamed faintly, like moonlight reflecting on scales.
"Command? No. That implies resistance." She tilted her head slightly, her voice softening into something ancient and proud. "You would not command the beast. You would speak—and it would obey."
That sent a thrill down my spine.
I felt it—like lightning flickering through my blood.
The same feeling I'd had the first time I'd spoken a word of the old tongue felt the world respond.
Still, a touch of caution grounded the excitement rising in my chest.
"And if I fail?" I asked quietly. "If my draconic is not enough to make the beast obey?"
Her expression gentled, almost affectionate.
"Then I shall intervene. You need not fear that, Cassius. I am bound to this place as much as I am bound to you. Should the beast turn upon its rightful master, I will reset the board and force it back into slumber. You will not die here. And in time the beast will submit to you."
I huffed a faint laugh. "You make it sound so casual."
"Because it is," she said simply. "You are Draconis. The serpent is part of your inheritance, just as this Chamber is. You have every right to meet it, to test its bond to the blood that once birthed it."
Her tone was calm, but her eyes—those cold, knowing eyes—sparkled faintly, like she was daring me.
And truth be told… she didn't need to.
The idea of it—of standing before the great serpent, not as prey but as its master—ignited something deep inside me.
Curiosity.
Challenge.
The promise of power restrained only by my own will.
"Very well," I said finally, voice steady. "Then let's wake it."
Her lips curved into a proud, satisfied smile.
"That's my boy."
The trek back through the Chamber was quiet, save for the faint echo of dripping water and the soft hum of lingering magic in the air.
The serpentine pillars loomed on either side, their carved eyes seeming to follow me as I walked.
Every step closer to the reflection pool tightened the air—an almost electric heaviness that set every instinct on edge.
By the time I reached the great stone visage of Salazar Slytherin, the silence felt alive.
The founder's carved face stared down from the far wall, the faint green glow of the Chamber casting shadows across its features.
The still water below mirrored that gaze perfectly, smooth as glass save for the occasional ripple from falling droplets.
Lady Draconis floated behind me, her voice barely a whisper.
"Do not hesitate. The language of dragons does not tolerate uncertainty."
I nodded once, exhaling slowly.
I could feel my heart hammering, each beat echoing faintly in my chest.
My tongue felt heavy, as though my mouth already knew what it was about to say.
"Ready?" she asked softly.
"No," I admitted. "But since when has that ever stopped me?"
She laughed—a faint, spectral sound that drifted like a breeze.
"Spoken like a true heir."
I stepped forward, stopping at the edge of the reflection pool.
The carved face of Slytherin loomed above me, its mouth currently sealed, The last time it had opened, it had unleashed death itself upon the school.
I raised my head, staring up at that stony visage, and let the language come to me.
The hissing syllables flowed out unbidden, their rhythm deeper, more primal than human speech.
"Come Out And Face Me."
The command slithered through the air, soft but heavy with magic.
The Chamber responded.
Stone ground against stone as the carved lips of the statue parted further, the ancient mechanisms stirring with a low, echoing rumble.
The water trembled, waves rippling outward from the base of the monument.
Lady Draconis's presence flared faintly behind me, a cool wind sweeping through the chamber.
The mouth of the statue widened—darkness yawning open like the throat of some enormous beast.
Then came the sound.
A deep, resonant hiss that shook the air itself.
Ancient.
Hungry.
Now awake once more after decades.
My breath caught as movement stirred in the shadows of the gaping maw.
Almost instinctively i averted my eyes, but watched as the water of the reflecting pool rippled and overflowed as the volume within was displaced by the hulking form of the massive snake.
The Basilisk.
The King of Serpents.
Curiosity got the better of me and my eyes wandered up its form before resting on its head.
Though perhaps because of its training or hearing the previous command and tone with which i had delivered the beast stood there proud but with Its eyes closed for now.
It reared its head, towering above the waterline, the sheer presence of it pressing down like a physical weight.
Even without its deadly gaze, I could feel its power—the suffocating aura of something that had slept for centuries.
My mouth was dry, but the words came anyway.
"Come forth," I hissed in Parseltongue, the syllables rolling like thunder through the Chamber.
The great serpent paused.
Seeing my order not being obeyed my blood flared from within and what followed was almost a snarl rather than a hiss.
Draconic sylables slipped past my lips, as the entire chamber was shaken causing dust to rain down from above.
However before me the Basilisk was quick to prostrate itself lowering its form to be laying upon the ground, eyes still shut, but head on the cool stone flooring of the chamber.
'Massssster.'