Harry Potter: The Wandmaker

Harold had initially wanted to leave with Professor McGonagall, but after just two steps, he was sent back.

Even after repeatedly insisting that he wasn't hurt, Professor McGonagall refused to let him return to the common room. He had to stay in the hospital wing.

"Professor Flitwick said you were nearly doused in basilisk blood! That's no small matter," McGonagall said sternly. "Besides, until we've fully investigated this, the fewer people who know, the better. We don't want anyone treating the Chamber of Secrets like some new adventure ground."

After giving Madam Pomfrey strict orders not to let him leave, McGonagall hurried off.

Harold was a little surprised—he knew the "some people" McGonagall mentioned were most likely Fred and George. They had a reputation for sneaking into the Forbidden Forest. If they found out where the Chamber was, they'd definitely try to get in.

What puzzled Harold more was how Flitwick had passed a message to McGonagall in the first place. Had he used a two-way mirror? An owl? Or did the professors have some other way of communicating?

In any case, McGonagall clearly knew, and with Madam Pomfrey under orders, Harold had no choice but to sit on the empty bed beside Ron.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

As soon as Madam Pomfrey went off to prepare potions, Harold leaned over and asked, "What happened to you? Why do you look like that?"

"Don't ask," Ron said, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Around lunchtime, we found the entrance to the Chamber…"

"Wait," Harold cut in. "You're sure it was the entrance?"

"Second floor girls' loo," said Ron. "Where Moaning Myrtle lives."

It really was the Chamber entrance…

"How did you figure it out?" Harold asked, intrigued.

"You, actually," said Ron, glancing at him. "You mentioned that Dumbledore had sealed the entrance with magic. Then we overheard Nearly Headless Nick talking to the Fat Friar—something about Peeves not being able to enter Myrtle's bathroom anymore."

"That got us thinking maybe that was the entrance."

Harold frowned. That felt a little too convenient. But he didn't press it. "And then?"

"You tell me first—what happened with the basilisk? McGonagall said you rode a three-headed dog to fight it. Was that true?"

"No," Harold said bluntly. "I'm no match for a basilisk. It was Hagrid and Fluffy. They teamed up and tore the thing into three pieces."

Technically, three—Fluffy's left head had been bitten and wasn't doing much by that point.

"Thank Merlin," Ron let out a long breath of relief.

"So, tell me," Harold said. "What happened once you found the Chamber?"

"It was Hermione," said Ron. "She found out Lockhart was talking to a letter—like actually holding a conversation. The letter was responding with a completely unfamiliar voice."

"She also heard them planning to open the Chamber once Dumbledore was out of the castle, and release the monster inside."

"Yeah, that checks out," Harold nodded. "Something like that could only happen while Dumbledore was gone. But how did you get into the bathroom?"

"Lockhart again," Ron said, his voice weakening from all the talking. "We followed him to the loo and saw him cut his palm open with a knife. He smeared the blood on the door."

"Blood? Why?"

"Some ancient ritual, apparently. The voice from the letter said that blood from a wizard could unravel the magic holding the door shut. Then these colored threads appeared across the door—and it started to open."

"But Lockhart collapsed right after. He got super weak—needed two hands just to hold a chicken."

"…Wait," Harold blinked. "Did you say he was holding a chicken?"

"Yeah, he brought a chicken from his office. Why? Didn't I mention that earlier?"

"Nope."

"Doesn't matter. He fell over and crushed it anyway," Ron waved it off, muttering, "Still no idea why he had it in the first place."

Harold had a pretty good idea.

Lockhart must've read about basilisks and found out that a rooster's crow could kill one. So he brought it along as a secret weapon.

That probably explained Hagrid's missing chicken too—it hadn't been a vampire creature, but Lockhart stealing it.

That idiot.

Harold clenched his jaw.

Because of that one stolen bird, Hagrid had decided the coop was no longer safe. He'd moved the rest of the chickens—and the ferrets—to another location. One Harold didn't know about.

He'd wasted ages looking near Hagrid's hut… and by the time Fluffy showed up, he still hadn't found it.

But now that he thought about it—would the basilisk, after being possessed by Tom Riddle's soul, still be vulnerable to a rooster's crow?

If so, why would Riddle let Lockhart bring one into the Chamber? …Oh, right. Lockhart squashed it.

Something about that still felt off. Even Lockhart couldn't be so incompetent that he'd just roll over a chicken by accident.

Madam Pomfrey returned then, handing them each a vial of orange-red potion.

Harold recognized it immediately—Pepper-Up Potion, a revitalizing tonic. He'd taken it before when preparing the Mandrake leaf ritual.

Then she handed him a bright blue potion, one he didn't recognize. He drank it anyway.

It tasted vaguely of raspberry.

The final vial, a muddy brown one, was for Ron.

That one definitely didn't look appetizing.

Harold leaned back while Ron screwed up his face and forced it down. Madam Pomfrey took the empty cups and walked off again.

A while passed.

Ron grimaced, waiting for the taste to fade, then began to pick up the story again—this time, with pride in his voice.

"You'll never guess how the Chamber opens. We touched one of the taps, and suddenly four animals appeared—lion, eagle, badger, snake. Hermione said it was Dumbledore's enchantment, one for each of the four Houses."

"Harry faced the snake. He hissed at it—like, literally hissed. And this pipe just opened up out of nowhere."

"Harry said he meant to tell the snake to let us out, but instead it just… opened the entrance."

"Later, McGonagall told us he's a Parselmouth—he speaks Parseltongue. Apparently that's the key to opening the Chamber."

Ron got more animated the longer he talked. He even claimed that he stayed behind deliberately to cover their retreat—letting Harry and Hermione go for help.

Knowing Ron, Harold figured the real story was probably closer to he got caught, and they were forced to run.

By then, Riddle had likely already fused with the basilisk. That wouldn't have been a pleasant process. Noise and confusion were inevitable.

Then the basilisk chased after them.

Because the door wasn't fully unsealed, it couldn't get out—so it had to force its way through the pipes.

That explained why it smashed through the Entrance Hall wall… and why it had run into Harold and Hagrid.

It all lined up now.

Harold wanted to ask more questions, but when he turned to Ron, he saw that he was already asleep.

His head had flopped sideways, but the faint smile on his face said he was out cold—and content.

At the same time, Harold felt a wave of drowsiness crash over him. His mind turned fuzzy, like he'd curled up on a cloud.

He recognized the feeling at once.

That blue potion must've been Dreamless Sleep Draught. Milder than the Draught of Living Death, but powerful enough to knock someone out peacefully and painlessly.

The last thought Harold had before slipping into sleep was:

Clever, Madam Pomfrey. Very clever.

(End of Chapter)