CH 19

'What secret room?' Harry inquired, undeniably curious.

'They called it the Room of Requirement,' Salazar explained. 'I never found it, but they never found my Chamber of Secrets either.'

'Any idea where it is?' Harry asked. 'Or what it does?'

'Presumably it is whatever it is required to be, but no, I'm not sure exactly where it is, or how to find it. I narrowed it down to the seventh floor, but it would be a waste of time searching for it when you have all this.' Salazar gestured grandiosely around his secret study, nearly dislodging his snake for a second time.

'True,' Harry agreed. 'I have some magic to practice,' he told the portrait.

'Not in here you don't,' the painting snapped. 'Out into the hall where you won't make a mess of everything. Leave the time-turner there too. It's limited to about twelve hours, but you can come down after class and use it to repeat the day whenever you like.'

It was a good idea and Harry had to concede that without this room he would not be able to go nearly as far this year as he now hoped he could.

'Reducto,' he cried, whipping his wand through two sides of a triangle, and unleashing the blasting curse in the general direction of the dead basilisk.

The dead serpent didn't so much as twitch.

Magically resistant hide, Harry remembered.

'Reducto,' he tried again. The curse sailed past the snake and struck the pile of bones at the far end of the chamber. It left nothing but a very fine dust in its wake.

A few additional attempts, and exponentially more renditions of the mending charm, and Harry had gotten quite adept at changing the strength of the spell.

'Have you finished destroying the finest room in this castle?' the portrait asked acidly when he wandered back into the study.

'I fixed it afterwards,' he defended. 'Do you know anything about using transfiguration and conjuration in duels?'

'I am Salazar Slytherin,' the painting replied indignantly.

'You said Godric Gryffindor was the expert.'

'I'd like to think I know enough to teach a fourteen year old,' Salazar shot back. 'Sit and listen.'

'I've used it before,' Harry mentioned on his way to the chair behind the desk.

'You have?' That seemed to have perked the founder's interest.

'I conjured a basilisk out of ash and killed a wizard who was attacking me,' Harry confessed. His guilt over killing Barty Crouch's son lessened each time he was reminded of it.

'Good for you,' Salazar answered, utterly unconcerned by what was tantamount to murder. 'What was the spell? Serpensortia?'

'I didn't use a spell, I just waved my wand and made it happen.' Harry tried very, very hard to make that sound less childish than it did. He failed miserably.

'Show me.'

'You said not to do magic in here,' Harry objected.

'So pick me up off the wall,' the portrait snarked, 'and carry me out there. It will be nice to have a change of scenery.'

The ancient painting was heavy and Harry staggered clumsily along the bridge hoping very much he didn't fall in. The founder berated him every time he lurched too close to the water.

'Is that my basilisk?' Salazar asked when Harry propped him at the side of the chamber.

'Yes,' Harry gave the enormous serpent another glance.

'She grew a lot,' the founder smiled. 'How did you kill her?'

'With a sword,' Harry replied, keeping a straight face.

'It had better have not been that ridiculously shiny, goblin-made atrocity Godric used to wave around,' Salazar warned.

'It was exactly that sword,' Harry admitted, and the portrait lapsed into a stream of swear words in parseltongue.

'Show me this conjured serpent,' the painting asked once it had regained its calm.

'I managed to repeat it with fire,' Harry began, 'but I don't know how well water will work.'

'Just try, it shouldn't really matter.'

Picturing the basilisk coalescing from the pool just as it had struck from the cloud of ash Harry slashed his wand forwards and well away from himself.

A vast, liquid basilisk maw rose from the pool to crash like a wave against the wall across from Harry. It disintegrated back into the pool in a wild spray after impact.

'Well now,' Salazar remarked, 'that's a very impressive piece of silent battle-conjuration. If you hadn't used a serpent I daresay Godric himself might have deigned to teach you.'

'Er, thanks,' Harry replied. He wasn't sure if anything connected to Godric Gryffindor was compliment when it came from the mouth of the painting of his rival.

'Try again. This time don't imagine a striking snake, but one that hovers in the air over the pool.'

Harry dutifully did so and they watched as the water rose to roil in the form of the king of serpents. It hung for a few seconds, coiling and twisting as it awaited a command, then Harry's magic gave out on him and both he and the snake collapsed.

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