Chapter 214: The Special Award for Services, Snape Wants Basilisk Materials
Early morning in the Great Hall.
The long tables were laden with a generous breakfast, but hardly anyone had touched their food.
Nearly every student's gaze drifted, again and again, towards a certain spot at the Ravenclaw table.
Leonardo sat there quietly, as he always did
But the image of last night, a boy standing in the rain with a sword, wreathed in fire and lightning as he struck the basilisk, had burned itself too deeply into their minds to fade.
When Dumbledore rose to his feet, the whispers died at once.
They had all seen the basilisk fall. But the full picture remained blurred.
"I expect you are all aware that something extraordinary took place outside the castle last night."
Dumbledore's voice rang clear and strong, reaching every corner of the hall.
"I must now tell you this: the Chamber of Secrets, and the basilisk within it, were indeed left by Salazar Slytherin himself."
A stir rippled through the room.
The earlier attacks had targeted Muggle-born students, and the declaration about purging those deemed unworthy still hung in the air. That such a Chamber and such a creature had been left by one of the school's own founders only deepened the fear.
"But their original purpose was never to eliminate so-called 'unworthy' students."
Dumbledore swept his gaze across the hall, his tone growing more solemn.
"Slytherin left them as a safeguard for the school."
He paused, giving them a moment to absorb it.
"However, that power was exploited and twisted. Someone brought a dangerous Dark magical object into Hogwarts and was, in mind and body, corrupted and controlled by it. That person orchestrated every attack this term."
A beat of silence, and then the hall erupted with indignant voices.
"Whether he was manipulated or not, that's evil!"
"He should be locked in Azkaban!"
"The deepest cell! Let the dementors have him!"
Weeks of fear and suppression poured out all at once.
Because of the basilisk, no one had dared walk the corridors alone, terrified that the next corner might bring them face to face with the monster. Even seeing it from a distance last night, its vast, hideous shape had already become a nightmare. The thought that they had shared a castle with such a creature made their skin crawl.
A few sharper students, meanwhile, kept glancing at the staff table.
One seat was empty. The professor who usually wore the most eye-catching robes and the brightest smile was absent. Gilderoy Lockhart had not appeared.
Given the "curse" on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, and what had happened with Quirrell just last year, some students had already formed a hazy suspicion.
Dumbledore did not let the uncertainty linger.
"I regret to inform you all that the person who was corrupted by the Dark magical object and who directed the basilisk in these attacks was Gilderoy Lockhart. He has also paid for it with his life."
Shock and murmurs swept through the Great Hall.
Dumbledore's gaze passed over the students below.
"I must take this opportunity to remind you all: if you ever encounter a particularly unusual magical object, especially one that seems able to communicate with you, to respond to your thoughts and desires, you must inform a professor or a parent immediately. Do not investigate it on your own. It may conceal dangers you cannot foresee."
During a pause in Dumbledore's address, Leonardo's dorm-mate Terry leaned in and whispered, low enough for only the two of them to hear.
"Merlin's socks. Last year's Quirrell at least pretended to teach for a whole year. This time, Lockhart didn't even last a single term before he was done for."
Leonardo, who had personally attended the "retirement ceremonies" of both professors, nodded with genuine feeling.
Terry kept muttering. "Honestly, the Defence Against the Dark Arts post is cursed, isn't it? Two professors in a row…"
It was true. Ever since the curse was laid, no one had managed to hold the position for more than a year.
Who the next professor would be, and whether Dumbledore could even find someone willing, was anyone's guess.
Past Defence professors, aside from a few exceptionally unlucky ones, had at least survived their tenure. But after the fates of the last two…
The position's reputation was fearsome.
"The crisis hanging over Hogwarts has now been fully resolved," Dumbledore continued, warmth returning to his voice. "You need not live in fear any longer."
"And in this crisis, we owe a great debt to one student, whose courage and strength made an indelible contribution to the protection of this school."
Dumbledore smiled towards the Ravenclaw table.
"Let us sincerely thank Mr Leonardo Grafton!"
The applause that exploded was deafening, loud enough to shake the enchanted ceiling.
Students from every House clapped with everything they had. The little lions of Gryffindor added piercing whistles to the roar.
It was applause for a hero, and the release of every fear they had carried.
When the noise subsided enough for speech, Dumbledore went on.
"In recognition of Leonardo's outstanding contribution, Hogwarts will award him the Special Award for Services to the School! In addition, two hundred points to Ravenclaw!"
"YES!"
This time, the cheering came entirely from the Ravenclaw table.
Two hundred points.
Under normal circumstances, a House's total at the end of a full school year hovered around three hundred. An instant addition of two hundred meant that with the year only half over, Ravenclaw already had one hand firmly on the House Cup.
The other Houses reacted in their own ways. Hufflepuff took it in stride. A few Gryffindors and Slytherins were counting on their fingers, calculating whether winning the Quidditch Cup might close the gap.
But those calculations didn't last long, because the Christmas holidays were nearly here.
With a break around the corner, who could be bothered worrying about points?
Although the basilisk incident had earned the students three bonus days off to recover, a full week of classes still remained before the Christmas holiday, and those lessons would not cancel themselves.
Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Snape stood at the front, his low voice resonating through the room.
"The Banishing Charm. It drives objects away from the caster through a concentrated burst of magic. The direct opposite of the Summoning Charm. Useful for deflecting incoming projectiles—or forcing back an opponent at close range."
As he spoke, Snape flicked his wand. A training dummy lunging from the corner was effortlessly blasted away, slamming into the padded section of the wall.
The students listened with unusual attentiveness.
After enduring Lockhart's hollow "dramatic re-enactments" and the lingering garlic smell that had followed Quirrell everywhere, their tolerance for this class had been thoroughly tested.
Yet with Snape filling in as the temporary Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, the feedback was surprisingly positive.
This wasn't just lowered expectations.
Clear explanations of theory, precise demonstrations, and a constant emphasis on real-world application—the class finally felt the way it was supposed to.
Snape's skill in Defence Against the Dark Arts had always been formidable. Teaching a group of students was well within his ability.
Leonardo watched Snape lecture and thought the man looked livelier by several degrees.
Was the Defence Against the Dark Arts position actually good for Snape's health?
Then again, as long as the curse remained, the post still had teeth. The bite force of an African spotted hyena, at that.
While Snape turned to write on the blackboard, Ron nudged Harry with his elbow and whispered, "Harry, have you noticed? Snape teaching this class sounds like a completely different person. At least he's not spraying 'venom' every other sentence like he does in Potions."
Harry felt the same. So far, in this Defence classroom, Snape had not once used his usual biting sarcasm on any student.
"Weasley." The cold voice struck without warning. Snape had not even turned around. "Talking in class. Disrupting others. Five points from Gryffindor."
Ron froze on the spot and shut his mouth.
When the bell rang, Snape gathered his materials crisply and swept his gaze over the students filing out.
"Leonardo. My office."
Following Snape through the corridors, Leonardo had a strong suspicion about what this was about. Nine chances out of ten, it was the basilisk carcass.
The basilisk was valuable from head to tail, and for someone as skilled in Potions as Snape, it was a treasure trove, especially the organs and tissues saturated with unique magical properties.
Stepping into Snape's dimly lit office, Leonardo was met with the familiar sight of jars containing preserved specimens and the mingled scent of herbs and potions.
"Can you process the basilisk's remains?" Snape asked directly.
A magical creature of this calibre required specialised knowledge and technique to break down. Botch the job, and priceless materials would be ruined.
"Yes, Professor."
Salazar had already taught Leonardo the dissection methods and even the breeding techniques for basilisks. The implication was clear—if Leonardo ever needed basilisk materials again, he could simply raise and butcher them himself.
The way Salazar had said it, one might have mistaken it for instructions on keeping chickens.
The immediate, confident answer made Snape's next words catch in his throat. He had been planning to offer help with the processing and use that as leverage to negotiate a share of the materials.
Leonardo glanced at the shelves and cabinets, then continued, "But the process is still quite involved. The basilisk's hide is tough, and the scales have extremely high magical resistance. It takes specific tools and techniques."
"Professor, would you like to trade for some basilisk materials?"
The directness of the question left Snape silent for a few seconds. Then he gave a small nod and cleared his throat.
"What would you want in return? Finished potions, raw ingredients, potion recipes, or books?"
Leonardo barely hesitated. "Recipes and books, Professor."
Snape was not surprised. He knew Leonardo's appetite for knowledge, which was precisely why he had included those options.
"I want a serpent eye. One will suffice."
The basilisk's eyes were among the most magically concentrated parts of its body, containing unique power tied to "death". For advanced Potions research, they were a dream ingredient and catalyst.
Leonardo shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I have critical uses for both eyes. Perhaps we could discuss other parts?"
According to the knowledge Salazar had passed down, the eyes could serve as a medium to improve his Peeking Fiend's Eye.
Much of Salazar's legacy at Hogwarts focused on a wizard's own magical circuitry, approaching the subject from the level of body and soul.
And Leonardo's Peeking Fiend's Eye had already been created through a combination of Potions, Transfiguration, and other disciplines, modifying his own eyes. The groundwork was already laid.
In truth, Salazar's legacy was not entirely housed within the castle. After leaving Hogwarts, Salazar had travelled the world, and a considerable portion of his knowledge was scattered across various locations.
Over the Christmas holiday, Leonardo planned to take Norbert to several major Norwegian Ridgeback gathering grounds to "challenge" the local dragons. He might stumble upon one of those legacy sites along the way.
Snape's brow creased, but he did not push. Instead, he named another target.
"Then, a portion of the basilisk's heart."
Leonardo declined again, silently acknowledging that Snape certainly knew how to pick. The heart was the wellspring of the basilisk's vast life force, and Leonardo needed it as the core material for Magical Pathway Weavecraft, the final optimisation of Norbert's draconic magical circuitry. It was irreplaceable.
"The heart has its own purpose as well, I'm afraid. But there may be some leftover material once I'm done. We could discuss it then?"
Snape regarded Leonardo in silence for a long moment before speaking again, slowly.
"The eyes and the heart. You intend to use them for alchemical work?"
Over the course of this term, Snape had grown accustomed to Leonardo periodically unveiling some strange and impressive new creation.
If any other student had claimed they needed both the eyes and the heart, Snape would have dismissed it as a waste. But Leonardo…
Then again, no other student could have killed a basilisk in the first place.
"More or less," Leonardo said vaguely. "Magical experiments, magical experiments…"
After a round of haggling, Snape secured a pre-order for portions of the gall bladder and brain, along with a generous quantity of venom, scales, blood, flesh, and bone.
Snape flicked his wand, and several rolls of parchment and a few thick volumes floated from shelves and cabinets, settling on the desk in front of Leonardo.
Leonardo's gaze swept across the collection, then stopped on one book that looked especially worn. The ink on its cover had already begun to fade.
Advanced Potion-Making.
This book looked like…
Leonardo reached out and pulled it free, flipping through its pages.
Seeing which book Leonardo had chosen first, Snape's eyebrow lifted slightly, but he said nothing.
As the pages turned, nearly every margin was filled with dense, tiny handwritten notes.
And on the inside of the back cover, in the same small script, a single line.
"This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince."