The circle of large sinks shivered and shook as they descended into the ground one after another, forming a circular staircase. Once they stopped and the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was revealed, I let out a slow breath to calm myself.
"Well… I'd say this is it," I muttered, staring at the porcelain stairs spiraling into blackness below.
Pansy, standing beside me, nodded silently, her gaze flickering between the open passage and me. Just as I was about to suggest leaving to tell Dumbledore, a shriek echoed from below—a girl screaming in terror.
"AAAHHH!!"
We both jumped, startled, Pansy instinctively grabbing the edge of my robes before letting go. The screams grew fainter as they drifted deeper into the darkness. I bit my lip, weighing whether this was a trap—but with the sound fading, I couldn't sit still.
"Oh, bother it!" I shouted, charging down the stairs. "Go tell Dumbledore—Whoa, AHHH!"
I yelled back at her while descending too quickly, only to slip on one of the steps and tumble into the center. I screamed the whole way as I slid down some kind of chute.
I was eventually thrown out at the bottom, landing hard on my back with a loud crunch. Groaning, I tried to sit up, but the screams returned—louder, and coming fast. I braced myself, closing my eyes.
The girl collided into me, knocking us both to the ground. I squinted and saw Pansy's disheveled appearance lying on top of me, groaning, her hair frizzing slightly.
I let my head fall back against the ground—only to feel sharp, uncomfortable jabs. The added weight of Pansy on top of me didn't help.
"Ow…" I muttered, pain radiating through my back. Pansy opened her eyes and, just as her cheeks started to redden, her expression changed to one of horror.
"Oh my—!?" she gasped, jumping to her feet.
Curious, I twisted around and saw it—bones. So many bones, in varying states of decomposition. The wet slime soaking into my robes made me gag.
I scrambled up, robes drenched in dark gray sludge. Checking my vials, I was relieved to see they were intact, but I still grimaced at the thought of using them in such a foul place.
"Ugh… I told you to get Dumbledore," I snapped, trying to flick the sludge from my robes and suppress my gag reflex. The added weight from Pansy had sunk me deeper into the pile of bones beneath us.
Pansy, for once, looked genuinely furious. Her gaze flicked from the feeding remains of the Gorgon—or whatever this thing was—to me.
"I thought you could have been killed! If you'd broken something down here, you—"
"HELP!! ANYONE!! AAAAHHH!!"
She was cut off by more shrieking echoing from one of the tunnels. I nearly turned to look, but Pansy slapped her hand over my eyes.
"You won't last a minute down here if the Gorgon's around," she whispered, slowly removing her hand.
I sighed through gritted teeth. "You're right… We need at least one of us to keep our eyes closed. That way we won't both end up petrified."
Pansy nodded fervently, her grip on me tightening as she took the lead. "Just keep them closed," she ordered, blocking my vision again. "I'll lead. You don't think before looking."
I bit back a retort. She had a point.
Eyes shut, we entered a wide pipe beneath the school. The splash of water under our feet echoed all around us, making me uneasy about how easily the Gorgon—or whatever it really was—could slither through the school unseen.
Val was shivering, his tiny scaled body burrowing deeper under my clothes to block his own sight. We walked in silence. The screaming had faded into sobbing—mournful, wordless wailing that echoed unnaturally, as if it came from all directions.
Jumping down from a pipe, I stumbled against something large. Pansy gasped and froze behind me as I regained my balance.
"What?" I asked, squinting to see.
Beneath my feet lay a massive, torn, and deteriorated snakeskin—easily taller than I was in diameter.
"That's not a Gorgon…" I murmured, brushing my fingers over the brittle texture.
"It's a Basilisk," Pansy whispered, her hand brushing beside mine.
We both stood frozen, processing what this meant. A Gorgon's gaze could petrify, but a Basilisk? Death or petrification by just a glance. If one survived with only petrification, they were considered lucky.
Panic set in, but Pansy's calm focus grounded me.
"Now we know it's not a trick. It's not a Gorgon—it's the real thing. We get the girl, and we get out. I can hear her behind this… door?" she muttered, dragging me onward but hesitating on that final word.
We stepped over the Basilisk's old skin, her hand still covering my eyes. Eventually, we stopped. I risked a peek—just at my feet.
Looking up, I saw the "door." It looked like a bank vault, rusted and slick with moisture. Metal snakes had their fangs embedded in the surrounding stone, sealing it shut.
Closing my eyes again, I reached out and touched one of the metal snakes, my fingers brushing across its cool back. Words spilled from my mouth unbidden.
"Your master's true Heir commands you to release the confines of my Chamber…"
A series of obedient hisses followed. The snakes slithered away beneath my touch. One by one, the locks unlatched, and the massive door creaked open.
Pansy yanked me back just in time to avoid it hitting my face. "Thanks," I murmured, squinting into the now-open Chamber.
A ladder led down to a stone walkway, half-submerged by murky water. The path was cracked and uneven, flanked by large stone serpents with fangs bared in eternal hisses. At the far end, a student lay sprawled on the floor, sobbing loudly.
"We're here to help! Come to us!" Pansy called out, but the girl didn't respond.
"C'mon," I urged, beginning my descent down the ladder, Pansy following closely.
As we walked, she gripped my shoulder tightly—tighter with every step toward the mysterious girl. "Hello?" I called, my voice low and cautious.
Suddenly, the sobbing stopped mid-gasp. We both froze.
The girl stood slowly, her long black hair dancing behind her. Then, she turned with a content sigh.
"I knew you would come for me…" she whispered, smiling—until her eyes landed on someone beside me.
Her expression soured. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, but she was still there—Pansy.
Yet, beside me, the real Pansy still clung to my robes, her face locked in shock.
Then she cried out, clutching her face in pain as it started to bubble and distort. Her hair lightened and frizzed, reshaping itself into a more familiar mess of brown curls.
That hair… I knew it anywhere.
"Clinging to him when I'm not around, I see…" the Pansy in front of me sneered with venom.
The one beside me lowered her hands—revealing Hermione's face.
"Mudblood…" the fake Pansy hissed.
'Hermione…' I realized in stunned silence.