Chapter 269: Snake Skin Shed
In the dim light, the faucet spun slowly, and the water in the pool gradually receded, revealing the entrance to a massive underground pipe. A cold, damp air seeped out from within, carrying a strange, acrid stench.
Harry swallowed hard. "Where... where is this?"
"Clearly, a Chamber of Secrets," Wade said, turning to the phoenix. "Please, Fawks."
The phoenix let out a soft cry and transformed into a streak of golden flame, vanishing instantly into the dark opening.
"Fawks?" Harry murmured.
"The serpent’s eyes are immune to conventional magic," Dumbledore said calmly. "We’ll need it to blind the creature first."
At this moment, Harry had not yet experienced being falsely accused or seeing his classmates petrified. He hesitated before asking, "That serpent... it’s hidden in Hogwarts... why?"
He wanted to ask: Is this part of the Dark Lord’s conspiracy?
Dumbledore exchanged a glance with Wade, then the latter said, "There’s a legend... Salazar Slytherin, before he departed the school, built a hidden Chamber beneath the castle and placed within it a special creature. It was meant to cleanse the school—purging all Muggle-born students when necessary."
"The creature... is the Serpent Strange?" Harry whispered.
"Looks like it." Wade tapped the ancient pipe with his wand. "The Serpent Strange has lived in the Chamber for over a thousand years. Fifty years ago, Slytherin’s heir arrived at Hogwarts, awakened the creature, and killed someone."
"He killed someone?" Harry asked, startled. "Who?"
The question hung in the air. Then he realized—how foolish he’d been. If the serpent emerged from this pipe, the first thing it would see, besides its summoner, would be a student coming to use the restroom.
Harry turned back, only to find Moaning Myrtle still lurking in the shadows, watching them with a smug, voyeuristic expression—completely unaware that the one they were discussing might have been her.
Harry looked at Wade, eyes questioning.
Wade gave a single, solemn nod.
A wave of sorrow and pity washed over the boy. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
Would revealing the truth bring her any more pain?
After a long pause, he changed the subject. "Who was Slytherin’s heir?"
"Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "Tom Riddle. Once just another student at Hogwarts, just like you."
Harry froze. Then, strangely, he felt no shock—only a deep, aching empathy.
The man who had killed his parents... had also killed Myrtle. When he was still just a student.
How terrifying.
Even when Dudley Dursley beat him senseless or locked him in the cupboard to starve, Harry had only ever wished to escape. He’d never once thought of wishing the Dursleys dead—let alone imagined himself killing anyone.
As Harry zoned out, a faint, distant sound echoed from the pipe.
"Looks like it’s time for us to go down," Wade said. He drew his wand, rolled up his sleeve, took a deep breath, and stared into the dark mouth of the tunnel. "I hate this place."
Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked intrigued. "One must always venture into unfamiliar places." He carefully tucked his long beard into his robes, then pulled the hood of his cloak over his silver-white hair, neatly tucking it in. Wade waited patiently.
Harry frowned. "What are you two—?"
"Ensuring everyone’s safety, of course," Wade said. "We’ll scout ahead. You wait for the other challengers to gather before departing."
"But—" Harry started, but Dumbledore waved him off. "See you soon, Harry."
The Headmaster slid into the pipe with a soft whoosh and vanished.
Then Wade turned back, one last warning: "Don’t worry if you can’t see us once you’re down. If no life-threatening danger arises, the Headmaster can’t intervene. Neither can I."
He let go.
His body plunged down the narrow, slimy tunnel, pulled by gravity.
The pipe was pitch black and slick with moisture. Thin side tubes branched off in every direction—possibly one of them leading to where Professor Kettleburn had once disappeared.
Harry held his breath, counting silently. After what felt like an eternity, the slope eased. Ahead, a faint white light shimmered through the darkness.
Wade closed his eyes—then felt himself slide free, landing smoothly.
He adjusted to the sudden brightness, then opened his eyes and stood.
Dumbledore stood before him, wand raised, its tip glowing with a steady white light, illuminating the entire cavern.
They were in a vast stone tunnel—nearly three meters high—damp and cold, the air thick with the scent of ancient stone and decay. Scattered across the floor were bones of animals, nearly fused with the soil.
In the distance, terrible sounds echoed—growls, shudders, cries that sounded like the tortured screams of some monstrous beast.
Once Wade was ready, Dumbledore said, "Let’s go. It doesn’t seem far."
Their voices echoed through the tunnel.
After walking for a while, they suddenly came upon a monstrous sight.
In the darkness, a twisting shadow coiled and shifted—watching. Even with prior preparation, Wade flinched at the sudden presence.
Dumbledore’s wand flared, its light doubling in intensity, revealing the shadow’s true form.
It was the shed skin of a giant serpent.
The emerald scales glowed under the light, vivid and lifelike—almost as if they could still move.
"Goodness, at least twenty feet long!" Dumbledore said, delighted. "Severus will be thrilled!"
Wade had no intention of claiming it. His Galleons were more than sufficient.
And with so much rare potion ingredient available, Professor Snape would surely distribute some to students—though only to those with exceptional skill. Neville, for instance, would never get a chance.
Wade had no doubt he’d earn his share.
They left the shed skin untouched, letting it remain as a surprise for those who followed. Then they pressed forward.
Suddenly, a red beam shot from ahead.
A thunderous boom echoed through the tunnel.
Fawks returned, landing lightly on Dumbledore’s shoulder.
(End of Chapter)
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