48: The Entrance

[3rd Pov]

"Are you sure about this?"

Night loomed over the castle as the twins walked along the dark corridors of Hogwarts. With the cloth-covered Riddle's diary under his armpit, Alaric marched through the sleeping portraits of the Grand Staircase, Lysandra following him from behind.

It hadn't been hard hiding from either the teacher or the prefects, the firsts more preoccupied with standing outside the Common Rooms protecting the students in case the Heir was still around, while the seconds were too relaxed to patrol adequately.

"Think about it," Alaric tapped his temple. "Voldemort tried to frame Hagrid because he knew Hagrid had been keeping an acromantula inside the school, so he thought it would be a good cover-up for his little pet. What he didn't think about was that the girl he killed fifty years ago, who conveniently died in a bathroom, never left the spot she died in,"

Lysandra frowned through the moonlight, and then she too understood.

"You don't mean... — Moaning Myrtle?"

__________

The atmosphere was dark and dreary, with an unpleasant odour that irritated your nose. A line of damaged sinks lay beneath a big, cracked, and stained mirror. The floor was moist and reflected the dim light from a few burning candles, which were almost extinguished. The wooden stall doors were peeling and scuffed, and one of them hung loosely on its hinges.

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet, her posture matching the gloomy bathroom.

"Oh," Her eyes gained a twinkle when she saw Alaric. "I haven't seen you in a while. Come to make me company?" But then she spotted Lysandra and her shoulders slumped. "I guess not..."

"That's for another time, Myrtle," Alaric said, placing the clothed diary on one of the sinks. "We have some questions for you."

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been as excited as she appeared to be during her death.

"Oooooh, go on then," she said while twirling in the air, leaving behind a trail of ghostly mist that softly phased through the twins.

Hiding a grimace, Lysandra composed herself before looking directly into Myrtle's translucent eyes.

"How was it that you died?"

A high-pitched, piercing cry of excitement left the ghost's mouth.

"It was dreadful," she said with relish and a wide smile. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then —" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining with pleasure. "I died."

"How?" asked Alaric.

"No idea," said Myrtle in a hushed tone. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away..." She looked dreamily at Alaric. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"I'm sure she was," Alaric dismissed. "But where exactly did you see the eyes?"

"Somewhere..." she trailed off while thinking. "There."

Myrtle gestured vaguely toward the sink by the bathroom entrance, where Tom Riddle's diary lay.

Alaric and Lysandra quickly approached it. Initially, the sink appeared like an ordinary one, showing signs of wear. However, Alaric soon spotted something.

It was such an inconspicuous detail that he might have missed it himself. Just below one of the copper taps, there was a small snake figure etched into the side, pulsating with magical energy.

"That tap's never worked," Myrtle chirped as Alaric observed the snake.

"Really..." Alaric glanced back at the snake. The candle's glow made it seem almost alive. He shut his eyes briefly, and upon opening them, an odd hiss slipped from his lips. "Open."

The tap shone with a bright white light and began to shift. The sink, in fact, sank, disappearing from view and revealing a wide pipe, large enough for a person to slide into.

A faint, cool breeze came from the newly opened pipe, carrying a hint of dampness and petrichor.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Lysandra said. She held her wand ready, a determined look on her face, poised to enter the pipe.

"You can't go in there," Alaric stopped her idea in its tracks.

"Then what?" Lysandra retorted, clearly upset. "We've finally found the way in, and you think I'll just stay here doing nothing?"

She couldn't avoid it now. Not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance to end this craziness.

"Yes," Alaric said firmly. "Now that we've located the entrance, we'll get the teachers involved and put a stop to this for good." He gestured at the opening.

Lysandra frowned, a feeling that Alaric easily picked up on.

"If you go down there, what's your plan?" Alaric's frustration was growing. "Kill the Basilisk? Something that can end you with a look? Sure, the glasses might shield you a bit, but they won't save you from petrification. Who's to say the Basilisk won't eat you once you're frozen?"

A moment of quiet filled the bathroom as the twins locked eyes, while Myrtle drifted around, unaware of the mounting tension. Eventually, Lysandra sighed.

"Alright," she conceded, visibly bothered. "So, what's the alternative?"

"Simple. You go and tell Albus that we've found the Chamber entrance, while I stay here, making sure no wannabe heroes dive into that pipe," Alaric outlined.

Biting her lips out of frustration, Lysandra nodded and left the bathroom with the headmaster's office in mind.

When Lysandra eventually departed, Alaric settled against the sink. She hadn't used to act like this, he thought. He decided to address it later; for now, he needed to concentrate.

*POP*

The recognizable sound of apparitions reverberated in the eerie bathroom. No sooner had Alaric heard it than his wand was aimed at the stall from which the sound originated.

He anticipated various possibilities emerging from the stall, but not the bat-like ears and tennis ball-sized green eyes of a house-elf.

"A house-elf?" Alaric's tone reflected his confusion. "Why is one here?"

"Sir, the name's Dobby, sir," the house-elf responded meekly, moving closer to Alaric. "And Dobby has come to warn you, sir."

A touch of scepticism crossed Alaric's face.

"Warn me about what?" he inquired.

Dobby scratched his head intensely, as though attempting to extract something but struggling to do so.

"Harry Potter's frightening friend's frightening brother is in d-danger!" He finally managed to convey. "He must leave this place!"

Alaric lowered his wand.

"What do you mean I'm in danger?" he probed.

Once more, Dobby stumbled over his own words.

"T-The b-book — NO! Bad Dobby, Bad Dobby!" As if possessed, Dobby began ramming his head against the sink, as if punishing himself.

Swiftly, Alaric prevented him from injuring himself further. He gripped Dobby's shoulders firmly and peered at him.

"What does the book contain that I'm unaware of? Why am I at risk, Dobby?" Alaric inquired again, his brow furrowing, his gaze locked onto Dobby's green eyes.

The elf attempted to squirm away from Alaric's grasp, but the boy tightened his hold.

"Dobby can't say it, sir," the elf whimpered, almost on the brink of tears. "If Dobby does, he'll face punishment! Harry Potter's scary friend's scary brother must depart from here!"

Alaric contemplated for a moment before making his decision.

"Forgive me, Dobby, but if I'm endangered, I need to know why," Alaric spoke gently. Then, his pale blue eyes briefly gleamed, and in an instant, Dobby's eyes turned white.

Contrary to what many thought, house elves and other magical creatures had strong natural defences against mental attacks.

With a more focused effort on Legilimency, Alaric delved deeply into the memories of the little servant. Starting from his birth to the day he was sold to the Malfoy manor, Alaric witnessed everything. He observed how Dobby had been a mere expendable tool for Lord Malfoy, enduring severe limitations yet striving to assist not only Harry Potter but also Alaric.

Then it became clear. The day Lucius discreetly placed the diary in Ginny Weasley's cauldron to exploit her and reopen the Chamber of Secrets, leading to attacks on Muggle-born students.

Alaric finally grasped the last piece. The diary wasn't merely a means to preserve Voldemort's sixteen-year-old self; it was also a method to possess a student and trigger the Chamber's opening.

"But the cloth seems to prevent the book's magic from escaping, unless..." Alaric emerged from Dobby's memories, lost in contemplation. Meanwhile, Dobby swayed before collapsing onto the bathroom floor. "Unless the magic somehow embedded a form of dependency in the user, meaning — !!"

Though Alaric had finally pieced it together, it was too late.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a spell hitting him from the side, making him stumble and lose consciousness on the ground.

__________

The staffroom at Hogwarts was a large, panelled room full of dark, wooden chairs.

McGonagall paced around the room, too nervous to sit down.

"How long until the others arrive, Albus?" she asked, stopping in front of the chair the headmaster was sitting on.

"Soon," he responded, shifting softly on his seat and reaching for his beard.

And soon they did. Lysandra, who sat at the corner of the room, watched as most of the professors filtered into the room, one by one. Some of them were puzzled, others outright scared. Finally, Dumbledore spoke up.

"It has happened," His voice sounded more hoarse than usual. "The entrance to the Chamber has been found,"

Professor Flitwick let out a sigh of relief. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape removed his grip from his robes and said, "How can you be sure?"

"Two students were able to find it by following clues we, as professors, should be ashamed we missed," McGonagall said as she let out a disappointed breath. "Lysandra, dear, if you can,"

"Yes, professor."

Lysandra proceeded to explain everything she and Alaric had gathered on the Heir and the Basilisk, as well as the diary and how they eventually found the entrance.

Unfortunately, she had yet no way of knowing the true magic behind the diary, nor did she know who the true perpetrator was.

"But who is it?" asked Madam Hooch, who had sunk into a chair. "Who is the Heir of Slytherin?"

"I believe that's a question for later," answered the red-robed Arithmancy professor, Septima Vector. "We should make haste to the bathroom in order to end this madness,"

"Couldn't agree more," Snape added. "I believe everyone here possesses a pair of those enchanted spectacles?" Everyone nodded. "Then, Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore sat up and willed his wand to his hand. Suddenly, a serious expression appeared on his face, one the man rarely sported. "Let us go," he simply said as he walked out.

Every single professor, except Lockhart who wasn't present at the meeting, left after Dumbledore, following him from behind.

"What of Lockhart?" Snape asked the headmaster.

"My nephew has already arranged enough evidence to expose his farce," Dumbledore said. "If he runs away, then let him. It will simply be the final touch to end his career,"

Snape didn't comment, but his unusual gleeful expression clearly indicated what he was feeling.

The spirits were high among the professors, but as soon as they approached the bathroom and came across the message from the first attack, those spirits came plummeting down.

"Their skeletons will lie in the Chamber forever."

Gasps echoed through them, and a soft sobbing began in the back by the youngest of the bunch.

The bathroom door was swung open, Myrtle was frozen in the air, and the entrance was nowhere to be seen.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said in a sombre voice. "Go and get Mr Potter, please. We'll need the help of his gift,"

**********

A/N: Next chapter will be released sooner because action usually comes to me better than dialogue.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!