Chapter 146. Questions
Although Rai's petrification had made Adrian Wesson furious, he calmed down quickly.
What followed was a heap of questions.
He had personally destroyed the diary—so who had released the Basilisk?
Rai did sometimes wander around Hogwarts Castle at night, but how could he have happened to meet the Basilisk right in the courtyard?
Moreover, as a Thunderbird, Rai ought to be extremely sensitive to danger. Wesson did not believe Rai would be so easily felled by the Basilisk's magic.
Thinking of this, Wesson turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, can you tell me exactly what happened when you got here?"
So Harry explained to Wesson how they had left Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party, heard a strange sound, reached the courtyard, and discovered what had happened to Rai.
After listening, Wesson fell into thought. It was more or less what he had suspected.
However, the questions still were not answered.
Dumbledore swished the Elder Wand, and a spell wrapped around Rai; when the light faded, the Thunderbird remained stiff and unchanged.
"My magic is powerless against this condition."
It seemed that even Dumbledore could not remove the Basilisk's petrification with a spell.
Seeing this, Wesson said, "It's all right, Professor. I still have a batch of mature Mandrakes—once brewed into a potion, they should be able to restore Rai to normal."
At this, Dumbledore nodded in relief. "All the better. This will indeed require some help from potions."
Besides the petrified Rai, the line of scarlet writing on the ground drew attention as well.
The writing seemed stamped into the flagstones and could not be scrubbed away at all.
In the end, Professor McGonagall came up with a clever solution: dig out the entire patch of ground where the writing lay.
Just like that, the writing was gone.
Only a hole remained in the floor.
After finishing all this, Professor McGonagall led the three away from the courtyard.
Dumbledore and Wesson stayed where they were.
"Professor Wesson, how much do you know about the Chamber?" Dumbledore asked slowly.
Wesson stepped forward to stroke Rai, then turned his head and answered, "I've heard some rumours. It should be a chamber left by Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. The legend says Slytherin kept a terrifying monster in the Chamber to purge those unworthy to study magic. Do you have any other leads, Professor Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I know no more than you. Do you think the legend is real?"
Wesson pondered a moment, sighed, and said, "Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't—or perhaps only half of it is true. But I believe the Chamber exists; the Heir of Slytherin opened it and released the monster… but what I don't understand is why they chose Rai as the target."
"It is peculiar. Rai is only a Thunderbird," Dumbledore raised his brows slightly. "Do you have any suspects? Concerning the Heir of Slytherin—the one who set the monster loose."
Wesson shook his head.
He had not the slightest lead.
But he knew the Chamber's general location. Perhaps he could keep watch on it and find the culprit behind the scenes.
At the same time, in the Gryffindor common room.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron were gathered together, discussing what had just happened.
"Who on earth did it?" Harry frowned.
Ron was gnawing on the biscuits on the table; a night's rushing about had left him ravenous.
"Don't worry, Harry," he said carelessly. "Professor Dumbledore will sort everything out. He's bound to catch the culprit."
"And what if he doesn't?" Harry clearly disagreed with Ron. "Remember that line on the ground? This time Rai was attacked. If there's a next time… what do you think, Hermione?"
He looked at Hermione.
At that moment, Hermione was frowning hard to herself; she only came back to herself when she heard Harry's words. "Ah, yes. I was thinking about that line—I feel like I've heard the word 'Chamber' somewhere before."
Harry sat up straight at once. "Where?"
Hermione shook her head. "Give me a little time. I'm sure I'll remember."
Harry slumped back into the chair.
"I've never seen a teacher so angry," he sighed. "I wish I could do something to help him."
"First, we need to figure out what the Chamber and the Heir actually are," Hermione suggested.
"Or just find the real culprit," Ron said.
The events of Hallowe'en night were neatly covered up. Apart from that inconspicuous hole in the courtyard, everything was as usual.
Life at Hogwarts went on as normal.
Hermione went to the library even more often, hoping to find something about the Chamber in some book.
Rai's petrification was not something to fret over either, because there happened to be a batch of mature Mandrakes in Wesson's plantation.
It would just take a little time to brew them into a potion.
So Wesson planned to go to the Chamber first to see what the situation was. Perhaps he could find some clues.
On the afternoon of the next day, after finishing his class, Wesson arrived at the entrance to the girls' bathroom on the first floor of Hogwarts.
To be honest, it was his first time entering here.
Although, when he had been a student, he had been curious about the Chamber's existence, he had never come.
After all, there was a Basilisk inside.
Wesson did not want to face that monster; the Basilisk's petrifying magic was deadly even to wizards.
Perhaps only a powerful magical creature like a Thunderbird had a little resistance to it.
Pushing the door open, Wesson slipped inside at once to avoid being seen.
Inside, it looked like an ordinary bathroom; apart from being somewhat shabby, there was nothing unusual.
This bathroom had been out of use for a long time, and as for the reason why—Wesson fixed his gaze on a cubicle in the corner.
The cubicle door suddenly swung open, and a bespectacled ghost girl floated out.
It was the resident ghost of this bathroom—Moaning Myrtle.
It was because of her that students were unwilling to come here.
When Myrtle saw Wesson, she seemed startled.
"Here to make fun of me again?" she sobbed. "Everyone thinks I'm hilarious; they won't even leave me alone after I'm dead."
Wesson seldom saw Myrtle, and Myrtle, naturally, did not know him.
"I'm a professor at Hogwarts," Wesson said gently, shaking his head. "I don't mean to make fun of you. I wanted to ask you something, Myrtle."
"Oh, you only care about me when you need help…" Myrtle said gloomily, but she stopped sobbing.
She drifted up to Wesson and peered at him through her thick lenses. "All right, Professor—what do you want to ask?"
"Well then, Myrtle," Wesson asked, "in the past few days, has anyone suspicious come here?"
"I don't know," Myrtle twirled in the air, covering her face with her sleeve. "Who would care about me? No one ever comes in here… because there's an ugly freak in here…"
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