Chapter 326: Winter Hearth and Heart
"The Chamber of Secrets?"
Upon hearing that name, Minerva McGonagall's face turned a shade of pale that was most unbecoming.
"Yes, Professor."
Standing before her, Sean felt as though he had shrunk several inches.
"Explain," McGonagall said. She was looking at him with an intensity Sean couldn't quite decipher—a look of someone who had just made a monumental, perhaps even desperate, internal resolution.
On her desk, a small silver cat ornament glinted in the light of the hearth. Sean was suddenly reminded of the Room of Hope, where Justin would often spend the evenings roasting soft pastries or heating mugs of honey-lemon tea by the fire.
"Hogwarts does indeed have a Chamber of Secrets. The entrance is in the second-floor bathroom. There was a Basilisk living inside—roughly fifty feet long. Its gaze is lethal, but after being refracted multiple times, it loses its killing power..."
As Sean began his report, his speech grew more fluid.
"The catalyst was Tom Riddle's diary. Through my research in the Restricted Section, I realized it was likely a Horcrux..."
Sean gave a concise account of the diary's nature and the frame-up that had occurred fifty years ago. He tactfully glossed over the specifics of the actual combat within the Chamber.
"How... how is it that you know all of this so clearly?"
Minerva McGonagall's voice was trembling. She didn't ask for more details about the snake or the Chamber; instead, Sean watched as the firelight reflected in her eyes seemed to shatter like glass.
"I... was involved in the resolution," Sean said.
"Albus is truly mad... to allow you to be part of something so dangerous..."
Even though she had expected this answer, McGonagall sat in silence for a long time before she could force her voice to work again. It was raspy, thick with emotion.
Sean lowered his head. In truth, Professor Dumbledore hadn't known from the very beginning.
"You have done well, child," McGonagall said after a long silence, letting out a heavy, weary sigh.
She struggled to find the words for her relief and her terror. Perhaps this was the price to be paid for caring for someone so deeply.
It was a warm winter night inside the office; the fire roared, and the sleet that brushed against the windowpanes melted instantly. Minerva McGonagall sat in her cushioned armchair, listening to the young wizard recount a story of twists and turns.
From the discovery of Ginny's behavior to the meeting with Moaning Myrtle and the investigation into the events of 1943... the tale of the Chamber unfolded by the fireside. It was the story of a young Tom Riddle who had once framed Hagrid and had now attempted to reopen the Chamber, only to have his Horcrux destroyed by Harry.
It was obvious to her that the young wizard before her had been the primary architect of the diary's destruction.
"And the Basilisk? How did you lot deal with the monster?" McGonagall asked slowly. She felt she had reached the limit of what her nerves could handle.
She could accept that he had built a set of magical spectacles to investigate a legend. She could even accept that he had risked being discovered by Riddle to find the entrance. She felt her peaceful heart could take no more surprises.
Sean went silent. Try as he might, he couldn't bypass this part of the story.
"I defeated it," Sean whispered.
He felt himself shrink another few inches.
"Sean Green!"
Minerva McGonagall slammed her hand on her desk and stood up abruptly.
"That was a Basilisk! You—child—"
She was breathless with shock and anger. "Tell me everything! Every detail!"
Outside the window, a passing owl seemed to sense the storm brewing in the office. It flapped its wings and veered sharply away, disappearing into the vast, dark night.
"You once said the Weasleys were excellent wizards, Professor," Sean said, looking up. "Voldemort was slowly consuming Ginny's soul. He could have commanded the Basilisk to attack at any moment. Before a tragedy could occur—before everything became irreparable—I had to do what I could."
His green eyes were perfectly still, as vast and unreadable as a calm sea.
McGonagall's shoulders slumped. Her lips were pressed into a tight, severe line. She stared at him, but for a moment, the words simply wouldn't come.
"How... how exactly did you defeat it?" she asked, clearly hoping he would mention the Headmaster's name. She needed to know there had been a safety net, that the situation hadn't been as suicidally dangerous as she feared.
"I used some Transfiguration... and the Sword of Gryffindor. In truth... there was no one else."
Sean knew this would be a difficult night. Lies were useless; between the upcoming news reports and the accounts of Harry and the others, the Professor would find out the truth eventually.
McGonagall went perfectly still. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.
In the Chamber. Alone. With no backup. A second-year wizard, armed with a handful of spells, a sense of duty, and an almost incomprehensible amount of courage... facing down the King of Serpents and winning.
The specifics of the fight, the near-misses, the potential for disaster—all of it was unknown to her. And it was that unknown that made her blood run cold.
She closed her eyes, and the Sorting Hat's voice echoed in her mind: "You have shown a courage that is truly breathtaking."
In truth, even though Sean had displayed incredible talent in Transfiguration since the start of term, in McGonagall's eyes, he was still "a second-year boy."
She could accept that his magic was powerful enough to alter the landscape of the Forbidden Forest, but she could not reconcile that with the image of him facing a Basilisk in a life-or-death struggle.
When curfew finally arrived, Sean followed the Professor out of the Transfiguration department. She didn't ask for any more details, looking as though she couldn't bear to hear another word.
"Go and get some sleep, child," McGonagall said softly.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. At least the boy had chosen to tell her himself.
The truth always sounded different depending on who was speaking.
Sean let out a long-held breath of relief. He watched the light flash briefly across the surface of his Void Rune, then headed toward Ravenclaw Tower, passing the snoring portraits on the walls.
Gryffindor Tower.
Things were not quite as peaceful here.
Professor McGonagall had marched into the common room and immediately summoned Harry and Ron. By now, she had regained some of her composure.
"Regarding the Chamber. I have been fully informed," McGonagall said, her presence alone bringing the nearby students to an orderly hush. Harry and Ron looked terrified. They were convinced she had found out about the hundred or so school rules they had broken over the last two months. "Well done, Harry. And you, Ron. Is there anything you wish to add to the account?"
Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered look. It seemed Dumbledore and McGonagall were treating them like heroes.
"Of course, Professor!" Ron said, his anxiety turning into a burst of excitement. Once Ron got going, he was hard to stop. "It was like this: we spotted Sean on the very first day. His robes were torn, he had dust in his hair, and he was carrying a bloody sword—the Sword of Gryffindor, if the Headmaster told you! We didn't know what he was doing at first, but we found out later... Professor, every single night, he was down there fighting that Basilisk..."
"Ron..." Harry hissed, seeing McGonagall's face go through several alarming shades of white. He gave Ron a sharp poke in the ribs, but it was too late.
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