Viktor drew a deep breath and laid everything out in the clearest, most concise way he could—the morning's full investigation and every conclusion he'd reached. He covered the Centaurs' ominous warning about "shadows creeping up the castle walls," the Unicorns' instinctive sense of a "freezing gaze," the wolf pack's detection of an "unnatural creation" scent, Aragog's terror-filled memories of the events from fifty years earlier, the Giant Squid's confirmation that "the guardian Slytherin left behind is sliding through the pipes," and the single most critical detail: the pair of "enormous yellow eyes" Moaning Myrtle had seen right before she died.
"So Mrs. Norris didn't die outright—she was petrified," Viktor said, speaking faster now but keeping his logic razor-sharp. "She was hanging from the torch bracket when Filch found her, body completely rigid. Remember the big puddle of water on the floor? I'm almost certain she caught the Basilisk's reflection in it—probably when the thing slithered past an open pipe overhead or through the shadows. Indirect gaze causes petrification instead of instant death."
He paused and looked straight at Dumbledore, then added the detail that still nagged at him. "There's one more thing, Albus. When the Giant Squid passed along its message, it specifically called the Basilisk 'the guardian Slytherin left behind.' That wording feels… off. Why would a creature filled with hatred, built to purge the 'unworthy,' be referred to as a guardian?"
The office fell silent again. The only sound was the silver instruments humming faster, as if they, too, were anxious about the terrifying conclusion.
Professor McGonagall had gone completely rigid. Her lips pressed into a bloodless line, knuckles white where she gripped the edge of the desk.
After a beat she whirled toward Dumbledore, wand already in her hand, tip trembling—not from fear, but from pure fury and urgency.
"Albus! If it really is a Basilisk, we have to act immediately! Evacuate the students? No, that would spark panic, and the thing's in the pipes anyway—leaving the castle might not even be safer—"
"But at the very least we need to seal every bathroom, every sink, every possible connection to the plumbing system right now! Organize faculty patrols, issue mirrors—or—"
Her mind raced ahead, but the more she spoke, the more she realized how impossibly vast and tangled Hogwarts' thousand-year-old pipe network truly was. A rare note of near-desperation crept into her voice.
Dumbledore raised one hand, calm and steady, signaling her to wait.
The shock and worry had already settled on his face; now his expression returned to that deep, unreadable serenity. But the blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles were sharp as ice.
He nodded slowly, gaze moving from Viktor to McGonagall, then finally resting on Tom—ears pricked, tail rigid, every inch of the cat ready for battle—perched on Viktor's shoulder.
"Thank you, Viktor. Outstanding work, and remarkably efficient. Your deductions are logical. Every clue points to the worst—and most plausible—possibility: the Basilisk left behind by Salazar Slytherin."
He paused, voice dropping lower, each word carrying weight.
"And this also confirms my deepest fear. Fifty years ago the Chamber was opened, a student died, and the Ministry rushed to close the case by blaming Hagrid. But I knew the real culprit was someone else—Tom Marvolo Riddle, who later became Voldemort."
McGonagall drew in a sharp breath, her face going even paler.
Viktor's stomach sank. Just hearing the name draped the entire situation in a heavier shadow.
"At the time I couldn't find hard evidence to accuse Riddle," Dumbledore continued, fingers absently stroking his long silver beard. "So I kept a close watch on him. He framed Hagrid and the Acromantula he'd been keeping. Now the Chamber has opened again and the Basilisk has awakened—this is no coincidence. I suspect Riddle—or rather, Voldemort—left some kind of contingency behind, some medium that can influence or control the Chamber. And now that contingency has been triggered."
He turned to Viktor. "The 'guardian' you mentioned gave me an idea that may be closer to the truth."
"Salazar Slytherin helped build Hogwarts alongside the other three founders. They didn't just leave stone walls behind."
"Those moving staircases, the Room of Requirement, the stone guardians throughout the castle, the Giant Squid in the Black Lake, even many of the ancient creatures that live in symbiosis with the forest—originally, they were all defenses or trials the four founders created to protect the school."
His gaze grew distant, as if he were looking through time itself.
"The Basilisk Slytherin left behind may not have been intended solely to purge the so-called unworthy. It might have been designed as an extreme, last-resort guardian."
"When Hogwarts faced an invasion or crisis it couldn't otherwise survive, the true heir would awaken it—a living weapon to defend the castle."
"Unfortunately, Slytherin's ideas about who deserved protection diverged too sharply from the other founders. The creature's awakening conditions and targets were set too narrowly and too darkly. It became a dangerous double-edged sword, possibly even against parts of Slytherin's own original intent."
"And Voldemort, as Slytherin's descendant, discovered it and twisted its purpose into a tool for his pure-blood ideology and reign of terror."
Viktor's eyes widened in understanding. "So the Basilisk itself might have been part of the castle's defensive system—only to be horribly misused. And this awakening was almost certainly triggered by whatever contingency Voldemort left behind?"
"Highly likely," Dumbledore said gravely.
"We must find and neutralize that contingency. Otherwise, even if we deal with the Basilisk temporarily, the threat remains. Voldemort never leaves only one path."
"Albus!" McGonagall burst out, unable to hold back any longer. Her voice rose with emotion, cutting through his thoughts. "Even if we have to hunt down Voldemort's contingency, we must secure the students' safety right now! The Basilisk is in the pipes! It could emerge from any sink, any toilet, any damp crack in the wall!"
"We can't sit here analyzing history and politics while children are exposed to instant death! The Hogwarts sewer system is a labyrinth built over a thousand years—we can't search every inch."
"But we can at least seal and ward every known major pipe outlet, every public bathroom, every kitchen drain! We can do something—immediately!"
Her chest heaved; her eyes burned with the absolute determination of a deputy headmistress and protector.
Dumbledore showed no irritation at being interrupted. Instead he looked at her with deep understanding and reassurance.
"Of course, Minerva. You're absolutely right. Student safety is always our first priority. Finding Voldemort's contingency and protecting the children must happen simultaneously—and the protection must be implemented right away."
He turned to Viktor. "Viktor, I recall you have considerable skill in alchemy and protective enchantment work. Right now we need equipment that can directly counter the Basilisk's gaze."
"The creature's stare kills or petrifies through a powerful curse transmitted visually. Could you create a special pair of 'curse-filtering glasses'? They wouldn't need to block it completely—just weaken or distort the direct magical gaze enough to give the wearer time to react or observe indirectly?"
Viktor caught on instantly, mind already racing.
"Full immunity to a Basilisk's stare would require incredibly rare materials and time we don't have. But if we're only talking targeted filtering, refraction, or scattering of specific curse wavelengths—using thin crystal sheets sensitive to negative energy, combined with micro-etched arrays of Confounding and Shielding charms—we could make it work."
"And to make sure every student, especially the younger ones, wears them constantly and doesn't lose or remove them, the best form would be contact lenses—subtle, almost impossible to forget or take out."
"Contact-lens-style protective eyewear?" Dumbledore's eyes brightened.
"Excellent idea, Viktor. It provides real protection while barely affecting daily life and avoids the panic that obvious glasses might cause."
"Can you handle this? The castle stores and my private collection should supply most of the materials. Anything special you need, just ask."
"Consider it done, Headmaster. I'll start designing and prototyping immediately and move to mass production as fast as possible. Tom and the twins can help with the finer material preparation."
Viktor answered without hesitation. On his shoulder Tom gave a solemn "Meow," chest puffing out like he'd just been handed a critical mission.
Dumbledore turned back to McGonagall, tone grave.
"Minerva, please gather the other Heads of House and the most reliable senior professors at once. Tell them we've discovered a dark creature that attacks through sight and is active in the plumbing. We need stronger defenses—don't mention Voldemort's contingency yet."
"Organize them, along with the prefects and Student Council members, to check and ward every known pipe outlet, entrance, and vent inside the castle. Set up danger-sense spells, anomaly alarms, bright-flash wards—whatever works."
"Prioritize public areas, corridor walls, and the plumbing connections inside the dormitories. At the same time, instruct all students to avoid using remote bathrooms alone and to report any strange pipe noises or unusual water immediately."
He glanced at the magnificent gold-red phoenix perched quietly nearby.
"Fawkes and I will personally inspect the oldest, deepest pipe junctions. We may find more traces of the Basilisk's movement—or the possible location of that contingency."
Hearing that Dumbledore himself would take the field and that concrete protective steps were already in motion, McGonagall's rigid posture eased a fraction. The urgency in her eyes, however, never dimmed.
"I'll handle it at once, Albus. I'll have Filch pull out the castle's most detailed plumbing schematics—his maps may be incomplete, but they're better than nothing."
She spun on her heel, robes flaring, and practically jogged from the Headmaster's office. Her heels clattered down the spiral staircase in a rapid staccato.
Only Dumbledore, Viktor, and Tom remained.
Dumbledore stepped out from behind his desk and placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder, blue eyes steady and trusting.
"Viktor, one more thing. Beyond the protective lenses, we need to strengthen the students'—especially the younger ones'—self-defense awareness and basic skills."
"I'd like you to weave relevant material into both the Duelling Club and your Care of Magical Creatures classes."
"Not by naming the Basilisk, of course. Teach them about common dark creatures or spells that work through sight, sound, or other indirect means. Show them simple evasion tactics, emergency shields, and the proper way to call for help. Most important of all—"
His voice grew exceptionally solemn. "Warn them never to trust any thinking magical object or unsolicited magical advice unless they can be one hundred percent certain who—or what—is truly behind it."
Viktor understood at once. The subtle warning pointed straight at a Horcrux—possibly disguised as an innocent diary or harmless trinket, whispering to a vulnerable student.
"I understand, Albus. I'll tread carefully—raise awareness without causing unnecessary panic."
"Excellent." Dumbledore gave Viktor's shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze. "Off you go, Viktor. Time is short. The lenses are in your and Tom's hands. Keep me updated on any progress."
Viktor nodded solemnly and left with Tom.
He knew the days ahead would turn Hogwarts into a silent race against time and shadows.
Over the next several days the castle's atmosphere tightened beneath the surface of normal classes and routines.
McGonagall moved with ruthless efficiency, organizing faculty patrols and magical wards. Subtle glowing runes and small silver bells now flickered near countless pipe bends, bathroom doorways, and kitchen drains.
Students received notices about "old plumbing repairs—please exercise caution" and were reminded to travel in pairs and report anything unusual.
Viktor buried himself in The Ark laboratory.
Dumbledore supplied crates of top-grade natural crystal sheets, mithril wire, phoenix down, and other rare materials.
Viktor designed a double-layer composite lens: an inner core of ultra-pure crystal etched with micro-runes that absorbed and scattered curse energy, plus an outer magical film permanently enchanted with gentle refraction and light-confusion charms. Even a direct stare would be bent away, never forming a true line of sight.
The first prototypes passed rigorous testing by both Dumbledore and Viktor himself. They significantly weakened or deflected curse-gaze magic. While not full immunity, the lenses bought precious seconds to close one's eyes or turn away—time that could mean the difference between life and death.
When George and Fred Weasley arrived for their scheduled "magical-creature byproduct processing" shift, they found a workbench glittering with every kind of magical light, covered in precision tools and crystal lenses.
And standing behind it were a very serious Professor Viktor and Tom wearing a single-lens work monocle like a tiny professor.
"Whoa!" George whistled, eyes shining at the elegant magical devices.
"Professor, are we switching careers to eyewear? Hogwarts' new fashion statement?" Fred grinned.
Viktor didn't smile. He gave them the short version: the school had discovered a dark creature that attacked through sight. They needed special protective lenses for every student—urgent, confidential, requiring extreme precision and stable magic.
The twins exchanged a single look. Their usual playful smirks vanished, replaced by a mix of excitement, responsibility, and the solemn pride of being trusted with something serious.
"No problem, Professor!"
"Mission accepted! We're master craftsmen!"
"Mum always says our sock-darning stitches are neater than hers!"
So every evening The Ark transformed into a tightly organized magical-lens workshop.
Viktor handled the core rune-etching and film-enchanting. Under his strict guidance the twins performed crystal cutting, mithril wiring, and frame shaping. Tom served as quality-control supervisor, checking every magical circuit and overseeing final cleaning and packaging.
The twins showed surprising focus and skill. Once they learned the lenses would be given free to every classmate, they worked even harder.
In class and Duelling Club, Viktor quietly ramped up safety education.
During Care of Magical Creatures he added lessons on "certain magical creatures' special attack methods and safe response protocols," stressing environmental awareness, maintaining distance, quick cover, and reporting to a professor immediately.
In Duelling Club he introduced extra drills for "non-contact magical attacks," teaching students to throw up quick barrier charms for cover or use modified Lumos variants to create blinding flashes that disrupted line of sight.
After one club session he kept the group behind and spoke with unusual gravity.
"Remember, the wizarding world's dangers don't only come from spells and monsters. Some dark things disguise themselves as harmless quills, pretty tiaras, or even friendly advice."
"Stay vigilant—especially around any magical object that tries to think for you, grant you special powers, or offer secret knowledge. Unless—"
He paused, eyes sweeping every young face.
"—you can figure out exactly what it is… or find out exactly whose brain is controlling it."
Hermione's brow furrowed in sudden understanding. Harry and Ron looked puzzled.
Nearby, Ginny Weasley—pale and stealing glances at Harry—felt a cold trickle of unease as she thought about the diary hidden under her pillow, the one that talked back to her in a voice named Tom Riddle.
The days passed in a blur of hard work, heightened vigilance, and quiet worry.
Lens production advanced steadily with the twins' and Tom's full support.
Faculty patrols and magical alarm networks grew tighter every day.
Dumbledore and Fawkes appeared and vanished at odd hours, conducting deeper investigations no one else saw.
Hogwarts still stood tall. Classes continued. But every person inside its walls could feel the invisible shadow lingering in the dark, waiting for its next chance.