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Chapter 288: The Basilisk Fake Fight!!
"Come back!"
Harry shouted reflexively.
But remembering Lockhart's condition, he and Ron dragged the professor toward the exit tunnel.
It wasn't that they didn't want to help Darren—
They knew very clearly that if they stayed, they would only slow him down.
Darren might survive the Basilisk alone.
With them beside him, he might actually die.
They had to find a professor.
But when Harry and Ron reached the pipe, they froze.
The vertical pipe rose hundreds of meters up.
Impossible to climb.
"Harry, we're…"
Ron's voice trembled. They both stared upward in despair.
The rumbling echo from deeper in the Chamber shook dust from the ceiling.
They flinched in fear.
"Ron, you wait here. I'm going to help Darren. I can speak Parseltongue—maybe I can help him!"
Harry's voice shook, but he meant it.
If they couldn't escape, then helping Darren was the only choice.
Even if all he could do was stand in front of Darren—it might buy him a second.
"Don't be stupid. I'm coming too!" Ron snapped. "Ginny is in there! But there's a problem first—him."
Ron pointed at Lockhart.
Harry blinked, having temporarily forgotten the man.
Lockhart's single movable eye widened in terror. He seemed to sense what was coming.
"I'm sorry," Ron said coldly. "We have to help Darren and find Ginny. You're… inconvenient. So just lie here. Maybe a professor will find you."
Ron's smile was pale and malicious.
He raised his wand.
"Harry, don't try to stop me. Even this wand was bought for me by Darren. And my sister is in danger!"
Ron looked up mid-sentence—
Harry had already run off.
A thunderous crash shook the Chamber.
The Basilisk's tail smashed into a support pillar, collapsing part of the ceiling.
Ron saw Harry slipping through the falling rubble—
and then a wall of stone sealed the passage behind him.
"Bloody hell!" Ron kicked at the broken rocks. "If I'd dropped Lockhart earlier, maybe I could've made it!"
He kicked Lockhart again for good measure.
Lockhart's lone working eye glared, but beneath the anger there was also relief.
At least the Basilisk couldn't get him here.
He had been terrified earlier—certain he was going to die—
and Darren Potter had pulled him back from the brink.
Lockhart, in his delusion, began to fantasize.
As long as he lived, St Mungo's could surely heal him.
Once recovered, he could expose Potter for using Fiendfyre.
Potter was too naïve.
He should never have saved him.
Lockhart wanted to laugh triumphantly, though only one eye could show pride.
Of course, Ron's next kick ruined the moment.
They stayed there, waiting for rescue.
—
Meanwhile, Darren was "fighting" the Basilisk.
The battle looked fierce—
but it was all staged.
Both of them pretended with perfect coordination.
It was flashy, dramatic, and completely fake.
Darren was enjoying himself.
To keep Harry away, he had even signaled the Basilisk to smash the ceiling earlier.
Hopefully blocking the way would stop him.
But Harry had smashed through the rocks.
Ron ended up trapped instead.
Just like in the original timeline.
And behind Harry was Dumbledore.
There was no way Dumbledore would allow Harry Potter to be stuck outside doing nothing.
Darren had overestimated his chances.
He sighed deeply.
He turned to Harry, eyes widening as if shocked that Harry managed to enter.
"Brother, go back—wait, you can't get out… I'll help you escape in a moment—careful! It's coming this way!"
Even while "fighting," Darren rushed to break through the rocks for Harry.
But both of them froze when a calm command echoed through the Chamber:
"Come back."
The Basilisk halted instantly.
It glanced sideways at Darren.
He could clearly see the grievance in those huge brass-colored eyes.
This snake was too smart.
It cooperated perfectly—
even smashing the ceiling when Darren hinted at it—
even pretending to strike without ever hitting him—
even without exchanging a single word in Parseltongue midway through the fight.
Was this really Salazar Slytherin's pet?
It was much cuter than his phoenix, Carol.
"Open."
The voice interrupted Darren's thoughts.
Tom Riddle stood before the tall stone door.
The doorway slid open with a heavy rumble.
"Ginny!"
Darren rushed forward instinctively.
"Ginny, are you all right?"
He pressed a hand to her chest, trying to use Spiritual Healing.
But nothing happened.
His ability refused to activate.
He tried again.
And again.
Nothing.
"How… how can this be…? Brother, I'm really useless…"
"My hand left Professor Lockhart too early… I couldn't save Ginny… I can't heal anyone anymore…"
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
[Ding, Father +100]
Darren accepted the points happily.
This was exactly what he wanted:
to make everyone believe he had lost the Mind-Healing ability.
Otherwise next time, someone would expect him to save them again.
That would be exhausting.
If Dumbledore didn't know he had Mind Healing, he wouldn't have had to "save" Lockhart.
And though Lockhart was more amusing like this…
Darren didn't plan on healing every fool he encountered in the future.
Much better for everyone to believe the ability had simply vanished.
Magic was unpredictable anyway.
Losing one strange ability wasn't unbelievable.
But on the outside, his expression remained pale, trembling, eyes full of suffering.
He lowered his head.
Tears fell.
"S-sorry for worrying you, brother… I'm fine now. I'm okay… I'm just too tired…"
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