The atmosphere in the third-floor girls' lavatory had shifted from triumphant to unbearable. For the Auror Training Class, the wait was a special kind of torture. While Sebastian and Snape were in the depths of the castle, the students were left with the damp walls and Moaning Myrtle, who was having the absolute time of her afterlife.
"It was so cold when I died," Myrtle moaned, floating in a slow, dramatic circle above Harry's head. "The air just... stopped. And the eyes! Oh, the eyes were like two golden lanterns of doom. I wonder if the Professors will look like I did when they find them. Pale. Blue. Quiet."
"Shut up, Myrtle," Ron hissed, though his own face was a shade of green that matched the bathroom tiles.
Harry didn't even hear her. His mind was playing out a dozen different horror movies. He imagined Professor Swan trying to duel a fifty-foot serpent while essentially blindfolded, or Snape getting caught in the monster's coils. These were the men who had actually treated him like a person—one with tough love and the other with a level of respect no other adult had shown him. The thought of them being dragged into some dark corner of the earth was sickening.
Suddenly, the silence of the room was shattered. It wasn't a roar or a scream, but a high-pitched, mechanical whirring sound from the depths of the pipe.
A moment later, two figures shot out of the dark opening like cannonballs. Sebastian and Snape were riding on sleek, high-end racing brooms, their cloaks snapping behind them as they performed a perfect synchronous flare to land on the wet floor. They didn't look like they had just fought a legendary monster; they looked like they had just finished a particularly invigorating game of Quidditch.
"Professor!" Harry shouted, stepping forward. "Are you—?"
Before he could finish, a shadow began to rise from the pipe. It was slow and majestic, moving upward as if being lifted by an invisible elevator. The students gasped, and several fell back into the stalls as the Basilisk emerged.
The beast was massive. Its scales were dark and iridescent, shimmering even in the dim light of the lavatory. It was encased in a delicate, glowing layer of frost that hummed with magical energy, and a heavy, enchanted blindfold was strapped firmly across its head. It didn't move; it didn't even breathe visibly. It was a frozen god of the underworld, rendered harmless by a few bottles of potion and a master's touch.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward, her hand clutching her chest. "Merlin's beard... it's real. All these years, we were walking right over its head." She looked at the giant snake, then at Sebastian. "You actually brought it up alive?"
"Dead monsters are for textbooks, Minerva," Sebastian said, hopping off his broom and leaning it against a sink. "Live ones are for research. And let's be honest, the students have had a rough year. They deserve a bit of a show, don't you think?"
He tapped his wand against his palm. "This room is a bit cramped for a celebrity appearance. Let's take the King of Serpents out to the front lawn. I think the whole school needs to see that the nightmare is officially over."
What happened next was nothing short of a parade. Sebastian used a massive Mobilicorpus charm to float the sleeping Basilisk through the corridors. The news traveled faster than a Firebolt. By the time they reached the giant oak front doors, half the school was already sprinting toward the grounds.
The open space in front of the castle became a makeshift amphitheater. Students from all four houses formed a giant, trembling circle around the beast. In the bright afternoon sun, the Basilisk looked even more imposing. The ice crystals on its scales caught the light, creating a prismatic effect that made the creature look like it was carved from emerald and diamond.
"Listen up!" Sebastian's voice echoed across the grounds, amplified by a silent Sonorus. "The threat to Hogwarts is neutralized. This is the monster of the Chamber. It is currently in a deep, magically induced hibernation. You are free to look, but I've placed an Age Line around the perimeter. Anyone under twenty who tries to touch it will find themselves flying toward the lake. We don't need any 'accidental' petrifications today."
The students were buzzing.
"Look at the size of those fangs!" "I heard Professor Swan wrestled it into submission with his bare hands!" "I heard Snape brewed a potion that turned its blood to lead!"
While the rumors grew wilder by the minute, the staff arrived. Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, was practically vibrating with excitement. He and Hagrid were the only ones brave enough to walk right up to the beast, stroking the cold scales with a look of pure adoration.
"She's a beauty, Sebastian! A real prehistoric wonder!" Hagrid wiped a giant tear from his eye. "To think, she's been lonely down there all this time."
"She'll have plenty of company soon, Hagrid," Sebastian replied, watching the scene with a satisfied grin.
By evening, the circus had moved on. Sebastian had the Basilisk crated and transported via a heavy-duty Portkey to one of Swan Alchemy's private reptile sanctuaries—a place where the venom could be harvested safely and the beast could live out its days in a climate-controlled environment.
Later that night, the adrenaline finally began to fade. Sebastian arrived home, the quiet of his own house a stark contrast to the chaos of the day. He felt every bit of the mental strain from the exploration. After a long, hot shower, he collapsed onto the velvet sofa in his study.
Mia was already there, waiting with a glass of wine and a soft smile. Without a word, Sebastian shifted so his head was resting on her lap.
"I'm dead," he groaned, closing his eyes. "Tell the world I died doing what I loved: being incredibly talented and showing off."
Mia laughed, her fingers beginning a slow, rhythmic massage across his temples. "I heard the news. The whole Ministry is talking about it. 'The Man Who Tamed the Chamber.' You're going to be on the cover of every magazine in Europe tomorrow."
"Let them talk," Sebastian sighed, leaning into her touch. "The fame is fine, but the real prize was in the office behind the statue."
Mia's hands paused for a second. "The notes you mentioned? Slytherin's personal papers?"
"Everything," Sebastian whispered. "He was obsessed with the Animagus transformation. He thought the current version—turning into a cat or a dog—was a waste of potential. He wanted to turn wizards into dragons. Into Basilisks. Into things that don't just use magic, but are magic."
Mia looked down at him, her brow furrowed with concern. "Did he do it? I mean, if anyone could, it would be a Founder."
"He came close," Sebastian said, opening his eyes to look at her. "He figured out the math. He figured out the magic. But his tools were too primitive. He was trying to force two different types of blood to mix like oil and water. He ended up mutating his own face because he couldn't bridge the gap. He died thinking it was impossible."
"And you?" Mia asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You don't think it's impossible, do you?"
Sebastian reached up and took her hand, kissing her palm. "Slytherin was a genius, but he was a man of his time. He didn't have the understanding of the soul's architecture that I've developed. He saw a wall. I see a door that just needs a different key."
"Sebastian," Mia said, her voice turning serious. "The risk... if you get it wrong, you won't just be an ape-man. You'll be a monster. Or worse, you'll be nothing at all."
"I know," Sebastian replied, his eyes reflecting the flickering firelight of the room. "But think of the perspective, Mia. Imagine being able to see the world through the eyes of a creature that has lived for a thousand years. Imagine the power of a dragon with the mind of a master wizard. It's the ultimate evolution."
He saw the worry in her eyes and softened his expression. "I'm not going to jump into a cauldron tomorrow. I'm going to study his failures. I'm going to use the Basilisk we captured to test the blood-stability. I won't take a single step unless I'm certain."
Mia sighed, but she didn't stop the massage. She knew him too well. Once he had a scent, he wouldn't stop until he found the source.
"You're a madman," she whispered affectionately.
"I'm a pioneer," he corrected her, closing his eyes again. "Now, more of that on the left side. My brain is still vibrating from Snape's complaining."
As the house fell into a comfortable silence, Sebastian's mind was already miles away, drifting through the ancient equations of Salazar Slytherin. The Chamber was empty, the snake was caged, but for Sebastian Swan, the true magic was only just beginning to wake up.