Chapter 126
Chapter 126
Snape drew a deep breath, raised his arm and swept his wand in a circle through the air.
Suer was too far away to hear the incantation Snape used, but the beam of light was exceptionally bright, searing and thick.
The instant the spell shot out, the cat professor conjured a translucent barrier.
Boom! A thunderous crash rang out. Dust and shattered stone flew everywhere, obscuring Suer’s view.
Flitwick swiftly cleared away all the airborne dust.
As expected of a professor, Snape had blasted a hole precisely through the mouth of Slytherin’s statue without destroying the entire thing.
Suer could not help giving him a mental thumbs-up. Snape plainly possessed exquisite control over his magic, and tremendous power as well. Suer was very interested. Once they had killed the snake, perhaps he could ask Snape to teach him? Though next time, they could choose a slightly different target for the spell.
Oh, there would be no next time. There was only one such place — the Chamber of Secrets.
And probably only one statue like this.
“Hiss…” A low sound capable of making one’s blood run cold came from within the hollow. The owner of the voice was plainly furious.
A pair of eyes larger than basketballs appeared at the opening. Before the creature could see the attackers who had woken it, the eyes of which it was so proud were struck by an agonising pain.
“Hiss… hiss…” Another series of explosions sounded. Maddened by pain, the basilisk thrashed about and raised another vast cloud of dust.
“Preserve those eyes.” Snape drifted lightly backwards and shouted. Suer did not need to look to hear the excitement in Snape’s voice.
Could every part of a basilisk be used in potions?
Suer no longer dared imagine what would happen to this basilisk. Death was a certainty, but the manner of that death remained open to debate.
As everyone knew, Potions masters were generally experts at processing ingredients.
The poor basilisk had encountered, immediately upon appearing, several of the most powerful figures in Britain’s magical world.
Suer watched with his own eyes as the enormous snake, unquestionably longer than twenty feet, was ruthlessly pinned to the ground by the combined Transfiguration of Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, unable to move.
Professor Flitwick held his wand at the ready, prepared to add another spell at any moment.
Suer had expected a back-and-forth struggle between the four champions of Hogwarts and the basilisk. Instead, it was four fathers thrashing a child.
That was it? That was it?
What a waste of such an enormous body.
Even I could do that… Er… perhaps not? At least he certainly could not subdue a basilisk using Transfiguration alone.
It was understandable, however. Who knew what other unknown measures Slytherin had left behind besides the basilisk? Dumbledore had assembled the strongest people in the castle as a precaution.
Even the fully restored noseless, bald monster would not dare lightly face several great wizards working together.
Seeing that the situation had stabilised, Suer cautiously approached from behind the pillar, only to stop at a safe distance.
Snape was smiling! He was smiling! My word, Suer had been at school for more than a year and had never once seen Snape smile. In Suer’s memory, Snape seemed to wear the same deathly expression for ever.
It was even harder to imagine that Snape’s mouth could produce such a strange laugh.
If Suer absolutely had to find words to describe it…
Like a lecher seeing a beautiful woman?
Eugh…
The basilisk convulsed violently. It was clearly in great pain but could not move, while a gigantic transfigured pole held its fanged mouth wide open.
Still smiling, Snape held his wand in one hand and a large empty bottle in the other, reaching inside the basilisk’s mouth filled with sharp teeth.
Before long, the basilisk convulsed violently again. Suer, who had finally gathered the courage to move closer, even saw a crystal glimmer at the corner of its eye. Was it crying?
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall maintained their flow of magic throughout, but Suer did not know what Snape did to make the basilisk buck violently upwards. The massive pole holding its mouth open gave an ominous creak.
Good grief. If the pole failed, would they return from the Christmas holiday to find themselves with only half a Potions professor?
Of course, that could never happen.
Professor Flitwick joined in as well. Three great wizards subduing one “utterly harmless” little basilisk was naturally effortless.
A satisfied smile on his face, Snape held a bottle filled with glowing green liquid in one hand. The wand in his other hand had been replaced by a huge fang still dripping green fluid.
Professor, is your hand truly all right? It is smoking.
Suer had clearly worried needlessly. Without the slightest change in expression, Snape carefully set the fang and bottle aside, then produced a potion, opened it one-handed and poured it directly over his smoking hand.
An even more violent reaction followed. Billows of green smoke rose into the air.
Hiss… Suer could not help drawing a sharp breath at the sight of Snape’s bloodied, corroded hand.
What was the expression again? — It hurt merely to look at.
Snape seemed not to notice. He used the injured hand to draw his wand, while the other held two glass bottles filled with an unknown transparent liquid.
A translucent, blade-thin edge of air shot directly towards the basilisk’s eyes. The basilisk instinctively closed them and gave another hiss of pain.
The thin blade struck an eyelid, and blood tinged purple and green seeped out.
If one strike was not enough, then another would follow.
The air filled with a complicated series of whooshing sounds.
The basilisk convulsed even more violently, and a louder cry of pain burst from its throat.
Oh, what a stench… Invisible, Suer could not help covering his nose.
The three professors had to bind the basilisk even more forcefully.
“Hurry up, Severus.” Dumbledore frowned.
“I must be careful, Albus.” Without looking up, Snape set down two bottles containing enormous eyeballs beside the fang. “These are all precious potion ingredients.”
Despite his words, Snape quickened his movements.
What followed was brutal — though in truth, it had been brutal from the beginning.
Could they not kill it quickly and extract the ingredients afterwards? Or were ingredients taken from a living body more active than those taken after death?
It was not that Suer was excessively compassionate. Snape’s method of processing the ingredients was simply too brutal, especially in this sinister environment and when paired with that thoroughly villainous expression.
Anyone who saw it would instantly feel every hair stand on end.
Suer could not help turning his head away. Instead, by the faint light, he examined the hall, which could rightly be called magnificent.
A long time had passed by the time the basilisk’s hisses went from vigorous, to weak, to almost inaudible.
The once enormous body had been replaced by a great heap of filled bottles. Even the skin was gone.
If Slytherin had taken the basilisk away back then, none of this suffering would have happened.
Even death by a thousand cuts would have been quicker. The basilisk’s greatest regret before losing consciousness was probably being a magical creature.
Its powerful body and resistance to magic had granted it tremendous vitality. They also allowed it to experience the blood-soaked cruelty of reality.
At some point, Dumbledore had disappeared, perhaps once the basilisk ceased to pose a threat.
Not long afterwards, he emerged from the large opening through which the basilisk had come. His brow was tightly furrowed and his expression grave.
“Let us go back,” he said.