Moaning Myrtle's shrill wails echoed through the bathroom, scolding the reckless group of students. But the young witches and wizards ignored her, having tuned out her endless moaning after nearly half an hour. Their attention fixed on the sink at the room's center.
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stood nearby, eyeing Professor Lockhart with clear suspicion as he flailed his wand about aimlessly. Draco couldn't hold back. "Professor, are you even any good at this? Why not let Harry have a go?"
Lockhart cleared his throat awkwardly. He'd only meant to put on a show, not actually deliver. Facing the students' doubtful stares, he thought fast—true to his reputation as a quick-talking fraud.
"It's got nothing to do with me," Lockhart insisted breezily. "I reckon this isn't the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets after all. Harry, you've got the wrong spot. Best head back!"
He spun on his heel to leave, but only managed two steps before a wand jabbed into his chest. Colin Creevey fixed Lockhart with a polite smile. "Professor," he said evenly, "I think you should stick with us. What if we run into trouble without you?"
Lockhart glanced down at the wand, swallowing hard. His mouth quirked into a forced grin. "Ah, Colin, spot on! But this clearly isn't the way in. Let Harry take another look. I'll join once we find it proper-like!"
In truth, Lockhart was already plotting his escape, eager to pack his bags and vanish. Colin ignored him and turned to Harry. "Harry, check that faucet—looks like a snake carved into it. Why not try speaking Parseltongue?"
Harry peered closer and nodded; a faint serpentine outline was etched there. "But I don't know how to speak Parseltongue!" he protested.
"That's simple enough," Colin replied. "Just picture the carving as a real snake."
Harry nodded, encouraged. He stared hard at the pattern, willing it to life in his mind. Colin shook his head with a sigh. He finally got why his parents had pushed him into this—Erwin needed an NPC to guide the group, and here he was, playing the part.
What a rotten gig.
Harry muttered under his breath, a low hiss emerging. The snake engraving twisted and writhed in response. The sink slid aside with a grind, revealing a gaping black tunnel below.
Harry's face broke into a grin. "It's here—the entrance!"
The group peered into the shadowy void, a thrill of fear and excitement rippling through them. Harry glanced at Colin; with Erwin away, everyone deferred to him as the stand-in leader.
"The professors and other adults aren't around," Colin warned, "so we're on our own down there. Think hard—this is deadly serious. We're up against a basilisk that's slithered around for a thousand years. If you're not up to it, back out now. Stepping in means you might not step out."
Panic flickered across their faces at the mention of death. No one stays cool under that shadow. Colin scanned the room, noting the reactions. The Slytherins flinched but steadied quickly—he approved. As Erwin always said, strength could be drilled in, but true grit in the face of peril? That was rarer than a flawless potion.
The Gryffindors, despite their house rivalry, had shown up at Harry's call, including the Weasley twins. Percy, the stickler prefect, had been deliberately left in the dark; he'd only fuss over rules and his precious prefect position.
Colin let the silence stretch, giving them time to decide. A few moments later, some mumbled excuses. "Nah, we're not ready for this. Let's bail."
Colin nodded without judgment. A handful from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, exactly as Erwin had predicted. Not everyone could stare down mortality. It wasn't cowardice—just sense. If Colin hadn't known the professors were watching from the shadows, he'd have bolted too. Basilisks were nightmare fuel.
"Fair enough," he said. "Your call—I respect it."
The dropouts shifted awkwardly. "Sorry, we're just... scared."
Colin smiled reassuringly. "Who wouldn't be? Facing a millennium-old monster? Choosing life over heroics is the smart play."
That eased a few more waverers, and about a dozen slipped out in total. The rest stood firm, eyes resolute.
Colin mentally filed away the names of those who'd left. Sensible, sure—but not the sort Erwin sought for his inner circle.
"Right, then," Colin said to the holdouts. "No more backing out. Let's go."
They nodded and descended the slick stone tunnel one by one, feet sliding on the damp incline. Colin brought up the rear, with a reluctant Lockhart at his side. Once the others were ahead, Colin prodded him with his wand. "Your turn, Professor."
Lockhart's expression hardened. "You have any idea what you're dragging us into? A basilisk! You're asking for trouble!"
Colin chuckled. "No more pretending, then?"
Lockhart froze. "You... you know?"
...
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