My partner at Hogwarts is Tom

Answer to Chapter 87

After leaving the seemingly empty nest of the giant spider, Victor did not immediately go looking for the giant squid and the weeping myrtle.

He found a gnarled old tree, sat down with his back against its rough bark, and Tom quietly rested on his lap.

The morning light completely dispelled the thin mist in the forest, but the fog in Viktor's heart grew even thicker.

He closed his eyes, his fingers unconsciously stroking the hair behind Tom's neck, and began searching his memory for those terrifying things that matched the descriptions, created directly or indirectly by the hands of wizards.

The first thing that comes to mind is gargoyles. They guard Gringotts and many ancient wizarding buildings, including the towers of Hogwarts.

They are creations of magic that endow stones with twisted life and a protective instinct, loyal, tenacious, and merciless towards intruders.

However, gargoyles usually lack independent will and their range of movement is limited to the area they are assigned to protect. Their "gaze" brings physical tearing rather than magical petrification, let alone that ancient, hateful spirituality.

They are more like complex magical puppets than the beings Aragog described that could instill a primal fear in all the creatures of the Forbidden Forest.

Next up are the five-legged monsters. These are magical creatures that live near water and have an extremely unnatural appearance.

Five long legs support its round torso, and a gigantic mouth filled with sharp teeth almost completely covers its "face".

unit.

There are many theories about their origin. Some say they are the product of ancient wizards' failed transfiguration experiments, while others say they are mutations caused by some kind of magical contamination.

They are dangerous, greedy, and adept at lurking and ambush.

However, while the five-legged monster is unsettling, it is more of a physical threat; its magical properties lean towards chaos and devouring rather than precise, cold, cursed petrification.

They are not beings that can "lie dormant for thousands of years" in the usual sense.

Then, a darker, more "unnatural," "cold," and "fear-inducing" image emerged—the Dementor.

These beings, draped in tattered cloaks and radiating despair and coldness, are believed to have been born in the darkest corners of the magical world, perhaps terrifying spirits born from the combination of some extreme negative emotion and a specific magical environment.

They feed on happiness and hope, leaving behind only numbness and cold memories.

Their "kiss" can suck away souls, bringing an end more terrible than death.

However, Dementors are usually confined to places of despair like Azkaban, or are subject to limited control by the Ministry of Magic.

Their "coldness" is due to the deprivation of emotion, not a physical transformation.

Most importantly, neither the attack fifty years ago nor last night's events were accompanied by that symbolic,

An aura of despair that devours all happiness.

Hogwarts' protective magic also strongly repels and warns against highly dark beings like Dementors.

Moreover, Slytherin's concepts of "The Chamber of Secrets" and "Purge the Unworthy" do not seem to be entirely consistent with the Dementors' indiscriminate pleasure-seeking nature.

While the possibility of some extremely evil wizards manipulating or creating similar entities cannot be completely ruled out, the probability is low.

Finally, a name, a name that had been associated with the legend of the despicable Herpo for thousands of years, crashed heavily into Victor's thoughts with a hissing echo—the Basilisk.

It matches almost all the clues perfectly.

The oldest and most famous record of the birth of the basilisk is closely linked to the name of a dark wizard named Helpo.

He is one of the earliest known snake-talkers, who artificially created this terrifying creature by incubating eggs under the body of a toad.

It is a product of wizards' dark magic and forbidden knowledge, a completely unnatural creation devoid of emotion.

Furthermore, basilisks have extremely long lifespans, theoretically capable of living for hundreds or even thousands of years.

A basilisk bred or placed in the Chamber of Secrets by Salazar Slytherin himself could very well be still alive today.

Its gaze is deadly, and its venomous fangs are almost incurable. Apart from a few legendary items such as the Phoenix's Tears, even the Mandrake Resurrection Potion may not be able to completely counteract the consequences of its direct bite.

It is the most lethal biological weapon.

It can be moved entirely through the castle's pipe system.

The sound of water and the damp smell in the pipes might mask some of its presence.

The girls' bathroom where the weeping Myrtle was located was the very spot where the crime occurred fifty years ago.

And this also coincided with the centaur's warning. Victor suddenly opened his eyes, his breathing slightly rapid.

The morning light filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on his face, but it couldn't dispel the solemnity between his brows.

Each characteristic, like a puzzle piece, was assembled in his mind.

All the clues point to this answer!

However, final confirmation is still needed.

The information from Aragog is indirect, not direct enough.

He needs more conclusive eyewitness testimony, or corroboration from another "witness" from a thousand years ago.

Victor glanced at Tom on his shoulder, and Tom seemed to understand his thoughts, nodding vigorously.

"First, go to Black Lake and ask the old woman there." Then, we need to find Myrtle and confirm what she saw last.

At the edge of Black Lake, the water is deep and still.

Victor stood on the shore, his wand waving gently, and the unique druidic call to animals emanated from him.

Unusual ripples began to appear on the lake. Moments later, the water near the shore slowly rose.

A huge, wet, dark brown body covered in moss and barnacles emerged from the water.

It was a creature of indescribable size, more like some ancient aquatic magical behemoth than a "giant squid."

Its eye, as large as a round table, was slightly open beneath its thick eyelid, calmly, or rather, with the indifference accumulated over a thousand years, watching the tiny man and cat on the shore.

Victor then asked the giant squid if it knew anything about Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets and the monster inside.

Without any verbal communication, a deep, slow echo, as if from the deepest silt at the bottom of a lake, entered Viktor's mind directly, carrying the coldness of lake water and the weight of time.

"The castle—the ancient companion—has awakened—it hates light, hates life—it has slept long in the stone—its awakening brings fear and death—I hear it sliding through the pipes—its cold gaze—chills through the water—yes, it has always been there—the guardian left behind by Slytherin—"

The information is concise and unmistakable!

The ancient existence of the Black Lake confirms that a monster from the same era as Slytherin exists beneath the castle!

But what does "guardian" mean?

Keeping this question to himself, Victor hurried toward the castle to find the weeping Myrtle, the last piece of the puzzle.

Back at the castle, Victor went straight to the famous girls' lavatory on the second floor.

This place is damp and cold year-round, filled with a faint sense of melancholy and the smell of disinfectant.

Myrtle often appears here.

"Myrtle? Myrtle Warren?" Victor called softly to the empty, water-stained cubicle.

A pearly white ghost girl wearing glasses floated out of the innermost toilet bowl, sobbing and covering her face with her hands.

"Oh—who called me? Are you here to mock me again? Or do you want to use my restroom?"

She peeked at Victor and Tom through her fingers.

"Oh, it's Professor Scamander—and that nasty cat that's always trying to scratch me!"

She made a face at Tom, who responded with a dismissive flick of his tail.

"Myrtle, I'm not here to mock you. I want to ask you something very important, about—how you died." Victor's tone was gentle but serious.

Myrtle immediately burst into tears, her cries echoing between the tiled walls: "How horrible! How rude! Asking a girl such a question! Waaaaah—"

"Myrtle, this is very important," Victor said patiently.

"This could be related to the safety of other students. Wasn't the last thing you saw a pair of large, yellow eyes?"

The crying stopped abruptly. Myrtle lowered her hand, and a real, frozen fear appeared on her blurry, ghostly face.

She looked around, as if those eyes would reappear.

"How—how did you know?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Yes—yellow—huge, huge eyes—right behind that pipe—I was crying in the cubicle—then I heard a boy's voice—I wanted to see who was so disgusting—and then, then I opened the door and died—"

She started sobbing again, "Right here—all alone—Olive Honbey is still laughing at my glasses—"

it's confirmed!

Huge, vertical yellow pupils!

All the clues, all the inquiries, all point to the same answer.

Salazar Slytherin left behind a deadly basilisk, a thousand-year-old creature that obeyed his heir, in the secret chamber deep within Hogwarts Castle!

Viktor's expression instantly turned extremely serious.

A thousand-year-old basilisk capable of killing or petrifying with a single glance roams the pipe system of Hogwarts!

This is far more dangerous than any monster they initially anticipated!

The students' safety was under the most direct and deadly threat!

We must inform Dumbledore immediately!

"Thank you, Myrtle, this is very important." Victor said hastily, turned and left, with Tom following closely behind.

"Wait! Professor! You're just leaving like that? Doesn't anyone care about how I feel? Waaaaah—"

Myrtle's cries came from behind him again, but Victor had no time to pay attention.

He practically ran through the corridors toward the principal's office on the upper floor of the castle.

We must find Dumbledore immediately!

The basilisk has awakened, and every pipe and every damp corner of Hogwarts could become a passage to death!

The corridor on the eighth floor was quiet, with only the soft snoring and rustling of the portraits on the walls.

Victor's footsteps echoed quickly and clearly on the stone floor, with Tom close behind, his fur standing on end.

He stopped in front of the familiar dripping spout stone statue, his breath slightly short.

"Blood nougat," he said clearly.

The eyes of the dripping spout stone statue seemed to flash with a knowing glint.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but it did indeed come to life immediately, leaping and twirling with a joyful energy that seemed completely out of place in the tense atmosphere, making way for the spiral staircase leading to the principal's office.

The stairs rose automatically, and Victor climbed them two steps at a time, while Tom lightly leaped onto his shoulders.

The principal's office door was ajar, and hushed, serious conversations could be heard coming from inside.

After knocking twice, Viktor pushed the door open and entered without waiting for a response.

The circular room was filled with the soft humming and spinning of various silver instruments, and the portraits of past principals on the walls seemed to be awake, staring solemnly at the center of the room.

Dumbledore stood behind his large desk, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles looking at the person standing in front of the desk.

Professor McGonagall was pale.

The air seemed to freeze between the two, clearly they were discussing an extremely serious situation.

They turned around at the same time when they heard the door open.

When Professor McGonagall saw that it was Victor, her tightly pursed lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but Victor interrupted her directly, which was extremely rare for him.

"Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall," Victor's voice was slightly hoarse from running, but every word was firm and resolute, "I know what's in the Chamber of Secrets."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly, signaling him to continue.

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, leaned forward, and gripped the edge of the table tightly.

"It's neither one of the natural creatures we previously guessed, nor a simple magical construct."

Victor strode to his desk, placed his hands on the smooth surface, and stared intently at his two colleagues.

"It's a basilisk. A basilisk left behind by Salazar Slytherin, which has been lurking in the castle's underground pipe system for thousands of years."

The office fell into a deathly silence.

Only Fox, perched on a gilded perch, gently moved its wings and emitted a barely audible whistle.

Professor McGonagall's face turned as pale as the silverware behind her, her knuckles turning white from the strain.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't make a sound immediately.

For the first time, a crack appeared on Dumbledore's calm face, an expression that was a mixture of shock, understanding, and deep worry.

He slowly sat back in the high-backed chair, his blue eyes sharply locking onto Viktor through his glasses.