Chương 31: Chapter 31

On my initiative, the seniors were invited to give an extra demonstration at the Dueling Club. They were quite good. I was about to cut the show short, but Snape intervened and, and, suggested that I let the younger students perform for the sake of comparison and example.

The first year doesn't know how to do anything yet, of course, so it's not interesting at all, but the second year can do something. So Harry and Draco fought in vain, and then Malfoy, who had lost but didn't want to give up, summoned a snake with a spell. Potter cast it successfully and I erased it with the usual Evanesco.

A rather simple spatial magic spell that moves a material object somewhere outside of reality. Theoretically, you could use it to get rid of a person or a mountain, but the main thing is that the power invested in the spell exceeds that of the object being erased. In general, Harry didn't have a chance to scream and win the Dark Lord's glory. Nothing, I'll go to the secret room this weekend and put the question of Salazar's horror to rest once and for all.

Why has no one been able to find the entrance to the secret room for centuries? It's simple, all you have to do is put on your Artifact Goggles and see what you're looking for.

A masterpiece will appear before you, similar to a Room of Requirement. To suspect that this is a normal entrance is to have a very particular way of thinking, or to know exactly what it is. Maybe Tom, as a descendant of Salazar, was prompted by something, intuition, instinct, I don't know.

Today it is a toilet, but a century ago it could have been a classroom somewhere at the other end of the castle. Five hundred years ago it might have been a storeroom or a utility room. In general, it's not enough that you can't understand what kind of room it is and why it has so many charms on it, but I suspect that if you start to understand it, you'll scare. There are some structures that resemble the pseudo-intelligence of golems.

It's an interesting creation, maybe the founders practiced on it before they made the room. Who knows? The castle is a confusing place. How many decades has it been enchanted, how many times has something been changed and modernized, and how many changes have direct descendants added? No, it's easier to build from scratch than to find out what's been messed up for a thousand years.

I hiss "open", or rather, of course, I imitate hissing with the help of magic, activating the appropriate circuit of the weave-lock, and I get a tunnel into the dungeon.

Let's get started.

I slowly descend the wide pipe on my broom, lighting the way with my wand. It's a bit dirty, with cobwebs, dampness and sewage. It looks like the set of a cheap horror movie. There were enough stones that had fallen from the vault to create a guard of golems.

Four big men, several tons and five meters tall, with two-fingered hands like claws. I didn't bother, in case of any aggressive actions by the basilisk, these boys will successfully detain it, and I will act according to the situation.

Most likely, I'll use the hundred and first karate technique — retreat.

Top-top, stomping golems in front, and behind them me, on a balloon... I mean broom. Ha ha. That's a little scary. Here comes the door, decorated with snakes. Fi, the usual animation charms, though beautifully applied, with the carelessness of true professionals.

Open "Sizzle" and wait. Here we are in the hall. Columns, many columns, and a statue of a bearded man with his face up. I completely remove the shields from my mind, a piece of ice the size of an iceberg is clearly felt, but the energy of the snake is also felt, and the glasses definitely show a more saturated background. I form a mental image and send it to the basilisk. A wave of surprise and joy comes in response. It's bored. Yes, it moves, it crawls out.

— Hello, how are you?

— Bored. Who are you?

— I'm a teacher at your father's school.

— Oh, good. Did you bring me lunch?

— Of course I did. — You can't go to a giant snake without bringing a delicious gift of a few pounds of meat. — Here you go.

— Not alive. — The sadness in the emotions of a creature cheated of its best interests.

— Live meat costs money. You know what that is?

— I've seen it, you can't eat it, it's shiny.

— I see. You want a live cow?

— Yes, I do! — a lot of joy and hope.

— I can get you one if you give me some poison and some old skins.

— I will. — He doesn't seem to care, good.

— You want me to revive this one so it can run? — I point to a mountain of flesh.

— Yes! He's a bit underdeveloped, even compared to Guzar. I transfigured a sheep and a kangaroo for him, which he happily chased for a few minutes and then quickly killed and ate.

— My servants will take the skins. Show them where they are.

— Let's go, — a completely pacified snake dragged us all over the dungeon for half an hour, showing us the places where he once managed to get water.

— Fill the vials with poison. — I levitated some enchanted crystal vials into the golem's paws.

— Good, — the snake said, or rather thought, and carefully lowered its fangs into the vials. Yes, basilisk has a lot of experience in it. — That's it, can't more, come back in a week.

— I'll definitely come by and treat you to a live cow.

— Live is good. Can you make it jump? — The image of a kangaroo comes to mind, accompanied by the excitement of a hunter.

— I'll do it.

— Thank you.

— Don't miss me, — I wave in the direction of the statue, — I'll see you soon.

— Shh. — A complex picture of regret and fear that I, like the one before me, won't come. And at the same time a promise to wait. — Don't be afraid, — the snake added. — I don't kill with my eyes. — I was surprised, to say the least.

— The Creator did. I know how to paralyze. Always.

— So your poison and skin are okay?

— Master took it. — Boredom, indifference.

— I see. So you didn't attack me.

— You're different. — I don't understand the message at all. — You smell like a man. — What a juicy thought with unexpected details, but the information accompanying the thought image leaves no room for doubt.

— I'll definitely be there. I won't cheat.

— Good. — Hope, shy and cautious, almost knocking down the mental shields.

Poor lonely basilisk with the developmental level of a small child. Hmm, what's the female for basilisk? Hmm, Vasilisa? Yes, not very beautiful or wise. But let Gyurzik take care of that, I'll introduce him in the spring, and then we'll see. Salazar was not only a clever and educated man, but also very cunning.

He had to change his last name in such a way, the cunning of a true snake. Everyone tried to strengthen the eyes, and he took the petrifying function and replaced it with the usual stun. An ordinary stun was a spell that could even pierce a dragon. Genius!

His time was full of ugly monsters, hard times, and people to match. Surely every other man knew how to fight basilisks. They'd go into battle with periscope-like goggles and get stunned, and Slytherin would personally drag the hunters into the afterlife. I bet he also used them as ingredients for his favorite potions.

On the other hand, the snake needs to be fed. However, since he took the venom and the skins, and since many recipes containing these components were written under his pen, there is no need to worry about the quality of the material.

At the same time, and a much simpler explanation for why no one died in the canon, because the simplest "Stunning" in Vasilisi's performance became something more. A fundamentally different level, like what a self-taught player can play with the same guitar in three chords, and what a maestro can play with the same guitar.

I guess I was too lazy to go through Voldemort the student's memory in detail. At least I know that to make a Horcrux, you have to commit murder. In person. And not with a knife in an alley or an Avada in the back. It may be possible to do it without a ritual, but the victim must understand what and who is doing this to her. Without this, the necessary amulets will not work. And you must put them on beforehand. If the basilisk kills Myrtle, it won't help Tom.

He's not even his familiar. Teachers are not stupid enough not to know the difference between Acromantula venom and other effects. Besides, even though these spiders paralyze their victims, they eat like their kind in their lairs. They spray a secretion that dissolves the body and suck it up like a tube. So the girl couldn't have died from an Acromantula bite. Unless there were three of them and they had taken the maximum dose all at once. Aragog, again, was a small by spider standards.

This asshole personally killed the girl, and what does not remember, so forgetting on ghosts works perfectly well. And if a person has memories on a physical medium like the brain, and they can even sometimes be pulled out, then erased from the mental layer of the aura cannot be restored. It is similar to the way files are deleted in an operating system.

A living person simply removes a connection, destroys associative links, but for a spirit it is analogous to formatting, and a low-level one at that. A disconnected piece simply falls out of the whole and dissolves. It's like a magical lobotomy. Hagrid is obviously guilty as charged out of desperation. It's not like giving schoolchildren Veritaserum or Legilimention.

There are no vows, oaths, or contracts for heirs. Again, insult is fatal. And a mundane question like, — Did you kill a girl named Myrtle? — will get you nowhere. The villain will erase his memory and answer honestly that he didn't. Fight fire with fire.