The Chamber of Secrets Opens

He was about to step back when he heard a low, hoarse voice from inside. It sounded strange and cold, definitely not human language.

"Open."

Harry's blood seemed to freeze instantly.

Professor Lin... he was speaking Parseltongue?

When he had "learned" Parseltongue from Harry before... had it all been for this moment?

Then Harry saw something that made his scalp tingle—at the hissing sound, one of the bronze taps flashed with dazzling white light and began spinning wildly.

Then the entire sink, along with the floor around it, slowly shifted and sank, revealing beneath it a huge, pitch-black pipe entrance wide enough for a person to pass through. A cold wind, carrying a damp, fishy stench, poured out from within.

Without the slightest hesitation, and without even looking back, Lin Du walked straight into the opening. His figure was swiftly swallowed by the darkness.

The entrance did not close at once, as though it were waiting for something.

Harry's mind went blank, and his whole body turned cold.

The Chamber of Secrets... really was here.

And the one who had opened it was Professor Lin.

A terrifying thought seized him: Lin Du had deceived them.

Just as he stood frozen in shock, a pearly white figure shot out of the wall and floated beside the opening—it was Moaning Myrtle.

She was not crying today. Instead, she stared at the entrance with an almost admiring expression.

"Oh... he was so handsome." Moaning Myrtle floated by the opening, undisguised infatuation written across her transparent face.

"Especially his hair... it was like moonlight. And when he asked whether I'd help him with a little favor, his voice was so gentle..."

Harry yanked off the Invisibility Cloak, revealing himself, and glared at Moaning Myrtle in shock and fury. "You knew all along! You knew the entrance was here! You never told us!"

Moaning Myrtle jumped at his sudden appearance and floated several inches higher.

"It's you!" She clutched her chest. "You scared me to death! Of course I knew! I died here, remember?"

Pouting, she resumed her usual aggrieved look. "But did any of you ever ask me? When that big fellow was taken away, you didn't come ask Moaning Myrtle. When you were brewing those horrible-smelling potions here, no one asked whether poor, dead Moaning Myrtle knew any secrets! And now you're blaming me?"

She sniffed, but then eagerly floated before Harry and lowered her voice. "He's already gone in. Aren't you going after him? Go down now and quietly hit him from behind with a Stunning Spell..."

She made an exaggerated casting gesture. "Bang! Then you'll be the hero. You can figure everything out yourself—why wait for those slowpoke professors?"

Harry's heart hammered in his chest.

Moaning Myrtle's words slithered into his ears like venomous snakes.

Face Lin Du alone? He gripped his wand tightly, his palm slick with sweat.

Ron and Hermione had gone to find the professors, but by the time they arrived, who knew what Lin Du might already have done down there? Released the Basilisk? Completed some Dark Magic ritual?

He remembered Hagrid's bewildered back as he was taken away, the vicious slander in the Daily Prophet, and the greater pressure Dumbledore might have to bear because of this...

A surge of anger mixed with desperate determination rose within him.

"Lumos Maxima," he whispered to his wand. A faint glow lit his pale face and determined eyes.

Without looking at Moaning Myrtle again, he took a deep breath of the damp, freezing air, then walked straight toward the dark opening and crawled inside without hesitation.

The pipe was steep, damp, and slimy, with the nauseating feel of years of accumulated grime.

Harry could only keep sliding downward along the slope. He had no idea how many turns he took in the darkness. All he could hear was the rustle of his robes scraping against the pipe walls and the violent pounding of his heart.

After who knew how long, he landed with a splat on even wetter, softer ground.

Before him lay a broad stone tunnel. The walls gleamed wetly in the faint light of his wand, while the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and another indescribable, reptilian stench.

The tunnel was deathly silent.

Harry tightened his grip on his wand and carefully edged forward.

His soaked shoes stepped onto water-covered stone, each footfall making a soft but distinct drip-drip sound that was especially piercing in the absolute silence.

He could only tread as lightly as possible and listen closely—but apart from his restrained breathing and heartbeat, there was nothing.

The tunnel seemed endless. The circle of wandlight could illuminate only a small patch ahead, casting his own shadow in twisted shapes against the slick walls, where it followed him like a ghost.

Loneliness and fear coiled around him like icy vines, but Harry did not stop.

He had to know the truth.

He tried not to think about what awaited him at the end of the tunnel, but Lin Du's resolute back as he entered the opening, along with the terrible ritual that might be underway, kept flashing through his mind.

As he rounded a bend, Harry stopped short, nearly dropping his wand.

On the tunnel floor ahead lay a huge, glowing green shape.

That unnaturally vivid green glimmered faintly beneath his wandlight—it was a skin.

An enormous snakeskin, recently shed, lay loosely spread across the floor, hollow inside.

The size of the shed skin alone proclaimed how massive its owner was. It had to be over twenty feet long.

Harry felt his blood run cold, and his stomach clenched in terror.

The Basilisk... was here. Somewhere nearby, it had shed this skin and become even larger, even more dangerous.

He practically tiptoed, holding his breath as he skirted as far as possible around the horrifying shed skin. Cold fear crawled across his spine as though it had substance.

The tunnel continued onward.

Every nerve screamed danger, and every turn felt like another step into a deeper nightmare.

He wanted to reach the end quickly and end this torment, yet he was desperately afraid of what might be waiting there.

At last, there was no path ahead.

A solid stone wall blocked the tunnel. Two lifelike giant snakes were carved into it, entwined around each other. Their emerald eyes gave off a cold, ghostly gleam in the darkness, as though examining this unwelcome visitor.

Harry approached step by step, his throat dry and aching.

He knew what he had to do, but saying that word now felt like signing his own death warrant.

"...Open." Hoarse Parseltongue squeezed painfully from his throat.

The stone doors slid silently apart, revealing a vast space beyond, filled with a bleak green glow.

Towering serpent-shaped stone pillars coiled upward, supporting the boundless darkness overhead and casting long, twisted, sinister shadows.

Harry forced his trembling legs over the threshold and walked inside.

Green light swirled through the air, blurring his vision.