When Snape and Harry returned to the girls' lavatory on the third floor, everyone's curiosity about their eerie atmosphere far outweighed that of the House-elf who had finally been caught.
"You don't need to be afraid." Hermione seemed like a Dobby different person, being exceptionally gentle with Dobby, who was hiding behind Harry.
Fred and George got goosebumps.
Even Vincent found it very uncomfortable.
"No one will hurt you, I can assure you."
Snape sneered, "Miss Granger, I advise you not to waste your overflowing sympathy on the enemy."
"He's not an enemy, Professor." Hermione's tone instantly returned to normal. "He knows about the Chamber of Secrets of Secrets and that Harry is in danger."
"But he wouldn't even give a hint."
She pursed her lips. "Maybe you scared him."
"This is because you feel guilty."
"He's scared, scared that you, Professor, will hurt him."
"You only see the surface of the lie."
Hermione was speechless.
It wasn't because Snape was right, but because of the difference in their perspectives.
Wizards believe that House-elf are a class born to be enslaved, and they will not feel sorry for them whether they live or die.
She, who came from Muggle family, was the complete opposite.
She searched through the entire thick book of "A History of Magic" but found nothing about the origins of House-elf.
There are a few rumors, one is that they were defeated and enslaved, and the other is that they were created by wizards.
The Goblin once rebelled, but now they are managing Gringotts well.
Creating is even more impossible.
House-elf's magic is completely different from that of wizards.
So what is the reason?
She tends to think that House-elf are easy to bully and were deceived by wizards in a very ancient time when even survival was a problem.
Seeing her fall silent, Snape became even more convinced that he was right.
Just then, Vincent spoke up:
"I went to the United States during the summer vacation. The House-elf there all wore decent clothes and could even work to support themselves."
"You're sympathizing with them?" Snape scoffed. "Wayne, I thought you wouldn't have such feelings."
"It's not pity." Vincent looked at Dobby was cowering behind Harry.
"I do not hold any arrogant prejudices about anything; I prefer to believe everything I see with my own eyes."
"Well said!" Fred and George clapped in approval.
Who at Hogwarts could break the Old Bat's composure with just one sentence?
Only the little bat surpasses its master!
Snape snorted and had no intention of arguing any further.
Flitwick then smoothed things over, saying, "The most important thing now is to open the Chamber of Secrets and deal with the Basilisk and the person who is hiding."
"That's right." McGonagall walked up to Harry. "Things happened rather suddenly. I'll tell you everything after this is over."
"No—no—" Dobby poked half his head out. "Dobby can't let Hart Potter be in danger."
Snape glared at Hermione.
Once and again.
The House-elf have lost their reverence for wizards is a very serious problem in itself.
They tried to prevent Harry from returning to Hogwarts, and later even considered seriously injuring him to force him to drop out.
This is still an extremely dangerous sign.
"There's no danger at all." Vincent took out the last two pairs of glasses.
"We have the youngest dean in history here; ten Lockhart combined couldn't stop him."
"Really?" Dobby timidly leaned out halfway and caught a pair of glasses for Harry.
"If he were a fake, he would have been kicked out of Hogwarts long ago."
Snape's face was grim.
What does it mean to have ten Lockhart combined?
Does someone who sleeps like a dead pig even deserve to be called a slacker?
Wait, calm down...
I almost fell for that little rascal's provocation!
A thousand-year-old Basilisk, how could a Potions Professor possibly handle it?
Snape grew increasingly resentful, and glared fiercely at Vincent.
Vincent carefully put away the last pair of glasses. "Professor Snape, you'll definitely protect us, won't you?"
"Hehe—"
It's a low-level method, but it's exceptionally effective.
Flitwick and Sprout stared at each other blankly.
There is an old saying in the distant East: "Strike the snake at its seven-inch mark, dig up the tree by digging up its roots."
Snape was exceptionally talented, earning the title of Potions Master in his early twenties, and was notoriously difficult to deal with.
It hits at their pride, it strikes at their sore spots.
It wasn't a complete overhaul, but it was certainly well-controlled.
Apart from Harry and Dobby, the rest were not too surprising.
Vincent knew when to stop and didn't further provoke Snape's fragile nerves.
He doesn't want to end this piecemeal activity yet; if he's going to get serious, he'll have to wait at least a few more years.
"Let's begin." McGonagall patted Harry on the shoulder. "Relax, it's okay even if you can't open it."
It's impossible not to be nervous; even if Slytherin's head were shaved again, he wouldn't be able to relax at all.
Vincent took a few steps forward and lifted his black cloak to cover Snape.
Even with his glasses covered by a bat-shaped eye patch, Harry's tongue was still tied in knots, and he couldn't manage to utter a single coherent sentence for a long time.
"Is that not enough?" Snape stepped forward and brushed off the black cloak covering him. "Potter, it seems you need some help."
He drew his wand, pointed it at Harry, and cast Serpensortia of Draco's caliber.
From the black mist that exploded at the tip of the staff, a long black snake shot out.
Vincent turned and raised an eyebrow at him.
Snape pretended not to see and guided the Little Snakes to the marked faucet.
"Hiss—"
Harry stared into its eyes and suddenly felt he could do it.
Hi
shar
hao
sar——"
Under the watchful eyes of eleven pairs of eyes, the faucet emitted a dazzling white light and began to spin rapidly.
The pool below slowly sank until it disappeared from sight, revealing a very thick water pipe.
Vincent estimated that the size was just right to accommodate an adult, Basilisk could also barely squeeze in and out.
Snape lit his wand and looked down along the inside of the pipe.
It's neither long nor smooth.
At the very end, there is a bottomless stone tunnel.
McGonagall drew her wand and swung it at a cubicle door, turning it into a long, thin rope.
She pointed to the water pipe opening, and the rope seemed to come alive as it quickly burrowed inside.
Half a minute passed, then a minute passed.
Until the rope was almost used up, it seemed that they had not reached the bottom.
"There are many bends, and the depth exceeds the range of Hogwarts' protective magic."
Even Harry frowned.
Beyond the range of magic means that, as long as the exact location is known, any wizard with profound magical power can use Apparition and exit.
Rachmanin Slytherin would never make such a basic mistake.
If people could come and go freely, Hogwarts would have fallen more than a decade ago.
The Chamber of Secrets must be protected by Anti-Apparition Jinx, a powerful magic that has not dissipated automatically for nearly a thousand years.
Perhaps, like the magic surrounding the castle, it automatically absorbs the magical power that students unintentionally dissipate.
Or perhaps Salazar Slytherin alone could set up a spell that could operate for thousands of years.