Chapter 156: Let's Go
Second floor girls' bathroom.
A damp chill lingered in the air all year round, and the mirrors reflected everyone's grim expressions.
"Harry! Tamara!"
Before the group could even steady themselves, Ron rushed out from the last stall.
His eyes were red and swollen, clearly from crying. He clutched his wand tightly, looking as if he were on the verge of breaking down.
But when his gaze swept past Tamara and landed on the figure behind her, his grief instantly transformed into alertness and rage.
"Malfoy?!"
Ron jerked his wand up and pointed it at Draco's nose, his voice cracking with agitation.
"You brought him too? Is this what you wanted us to see? Letting a Slytherin come here to watch Ginny suffer?"
"Shut up, Weasley."
Draco brushed Ron's wand aside with disgust, his signature Malfoy arrogance returning at once.
"You think I want to be in a place this filthy and foul smelling? If it weren't for Tamara..."
"Enough."
Harry interrupted their bickering, stepping in front of Ron and quickly explaining.
"The more help we have, the better, Ron. Now isn't the time to fight."
Ron gritted his teeth. Although he was still glaring at Malfoy, he knew saving Ginny was the priority, so he lowered his hand resentfully.
Behind him, surprisingly, stood a round faced boy.
Neville Longbottom.
He looked terrified, clutching his toad Trevor in both hands. Although his whole body was shaking, he still stood firmly by Ron's side.
"Neville?" Harry asked, somewhat surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I... I saw Ron running this way," Neville stammered. "I thought... I thought Ginny is my friend too. One more person is always good, right?"
Hearing this, Tamara raised an eyebrow slightly.
This idiot, who usually managed to blow up his cauldron in Potions class, actually showed some Courage now.
But that was all.
"There is no time for catching up."
Tamara coldly cut off the touching scene.
She released Lockhart, whom she had escorted all the way here, and scanned the dark room with a sharp gaze.
"The bloodstains disappear here."
She pointed to the startling dark red marks beneath the sink.
"That means the entrance is nearby."
In truth, she could find that tap with her eyes closed.
It was the gateway to Salazar Slytherin's glorious legacy.
But for now, she had to act.
Tamara made a show of walking around the sink, her fingers lightly trailing over the row of copper taps.
"This place... is indeed a bit strange."
She stopped in front of a tap engraved with a tiny snake pattern, pretending to have discovered it by chance, and tapped the design with her fingertip.
"Look here, Potter."
Tamara turned her head to look at Harry.
"Water never comes out of this tap, and... there is a snake carved on it."
Harry immediately leaned in.
"A snake?"
He stared at the tiny marking. It was indeed a small, coiled snake.
"If I am not mistaken," Tamara said, crossing her arms and speaking thoughtfully, "this must be the mechanism left by Salazar Slytherin."
"It requires Parseltongue to open."
Everyone's eyes instantly fixed on Harry.
Back at the Duelling Club, Tamara had already used that perfect excuse, the lingering soul side effects from defeating Lord Voldemort, to explain why Harry could speak to snakes.
So now, instead of fear, everyone's eyes were filled with expectation.
"I... I'll try."
Harry swallowed hard and stared at the tap.
He tried his best to imagine it was a real, living snake.
A few seconds later.
"Open."
Harry opened his mouth and let out a strange series of hisses.
That was Parseltongue.
But to Tamara's ears, it was simply a disaster.
If Slytherin's original noble and ancient Parseltongue was compared to the standard pronunciation of high society, then Harry's attempt just now...
Was like a bumpkin who had just crawled out of a rural mud pit, shouting at the tap with half a hot potato in his mouth, "Hey! Kick the door open for me!"
The corner of Tamara's mouth twitched violently.
"That accent sounds like a tree snake that hasn't fully evolved..."
Tamara rolled her eyes, suppressing the urge to cover her ears.
But no matter how dreadful the accent was, the command ultimately worked.
The tap began to glow with brilliant white light and started to spin. Then, the sink slowly sank, revealing a massive pipe wide enough for a person to slide down.
A cold wind carrying the smell of decay blew out from the opening.
"Merlin's beard..." Ron's eyes widened.
"This is... the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?"
Draco also forgot to maintain his poise, peering into the bottomless black hole.
"All right."
Tamara turned around to look at Lockhart, who was already quietly shuffling toward the door.
"Since the way is open, let our professor go down first to scout the path."
"Me? No, no, no..."
The fake smile on Lockhart's face completely crumbled, and he waved his hands in terror.
"Children, since we've found the entrance, I think we should go back and inform Dumbledore... yes! This is for everyone's safety! I'll go right now..."
He turned to run.
Tamara sneered and pointed her wand directly at Lockhart.
"Flipendo!"
Bang!
A red light struck Lockhart squarely in the back.
"Aaaahhh!"
The famous Defense Against the Dark Arts professor let out a scream and flew through the air, plunging headfirst into the massive pipe.
With a series of grating friction sounds and fading screams, Lockhart completely vanished into the darkness.
"..."
The room fell into dead silence.
Ron and Neville stared at Tamara, dumbfounded.
"He... he slid down," Harry said dryly.
"It seems there are no traps below."
Tamara stowed her wand as if she had merely thrown away a bag of rubbish.
After doing all this, Tamara did not move. She stood in place, even tilting her head slightly as if waiting for something.
According to her usual experience, she should have been dazed by that annoying electronic voice by now, or hit by a punitive electric current warning her that harming staff members was strictly forbidden.
One second.
Two seconds.
Her mind remained silent.
There was no movement.
The corner of Tamara's mouth curled into an imperceptible sneer.
It seemed that the potion had not only separated the remnant soul, but also poisoned the system into silence.
Last night, to resist the toxicity of the Soul Separation Potion, the system had forcibly activated Biological Hibernation Mode to maintain her life signs.
Now, it was likely busy dealing with the medicinal effects that could corrode the soul, unable to spare any extra energy to run that nauseating moral supervision.
"That's more like it," Tamara thought pleasantly.
Though it was only temporary, this long lost feeling of freedom, unburdened by any shackles, was even more intoxicating than the Dark Arts.
"Let's go."
She walked to the edge of the opening, but just as she was about to descend, she suddenly stopped and looked back at Neville.
A faint trace of wariness flashed through those pitch black eyes.
She remembered very clearly.
In her previous life, it was this seemingly clumsy Longbottom who had swung the Sword of Gryffindor and killed Nagini.
Although the one below now was a Basilisk and not Nagini, Tamara would never allow anyone with a snake slaying attribute to get near her pet.
What if this boy pulled a sword out of nowhere and hacked her Basilisk?
That was her property.
"Longbottom," Tamara spoke coldly.
"Y, yes!" Neville jumped, nearly squeezing Trevor to death.
"You stay here."
"Eh?" Neville was stunned. "But I want to help..."
"We need someone to guard the entrance."
Tamara commanded in an unquestionable tone.
"If other professors come, or if the culprit tries to escape from here, you must sound the alarm immediately. This task is crucial. Do you understand?"
"Crucial?"
Looking at Tamara's serious expression, Neville suddenly felt the weight on his shoulders become as heavy as a mountain.
"I understand! I'll guard this place! No one's getting past!"
"Very good."
One hidden danger resolved.
Tamara nodded in satisfaction, then looked at Harry, Ron, and Draco.
"Go down."
.....
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