Ever since Moaning Myrtle had been killed by the basilisk fifty years ago, this bathroom had been all but abandoned. Nobody wanted to use its toilets.
It wasn't that they thought the place was unlucky. Nobody wanted a head to pop out of the toilet while they were using it, then prattle on endlessly, sobbing and whining. Even among ghosts, Moaning Myrtle was deeply unpopular, second only to the troublemaking Peeves.
Over time, nobody wanted to use these toilets anymore.
When Cyrus entered the bathroom, Moaning Myrtle was nowhere to be seen. She had probably flushed herself down a toilet into the Black Lake again.
That was a good thing.
Cyrus walked up to the sinks, where the mirror reflected Ginny's lovely face. Saying she bore no resemblance to her film counterpart would be an understatement-she looked completely different. In fact, she was much cuter.
He offered a word of praise, then followed Riddle's memories to find the brass tap that never worked. A small, inconspicuous snake was engraved on its side.
"Open!"
Cyrus opened his mouth and let out a terrifying hiss. He had inherited all of Riddle's gifts, naturally including Parseltongue.
At once, the tap gave off a dazzling white light and began spinning rapidly. Then the sink moved too, slowly sinking out of sight to reveal a pipe large enough for a person to climb into.
Cyrus jumped down without hesitation. Of course, he remembered to close the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets behind him to avoid any mishaps.
It was like hurtling down a dark, slimy, endless slide. He could see many other pipes branching off in every direction, but none were as wide as this one. Before long, he approached the bottom of the slide, where it opened into a dark stone tunnel.
Cyrus cast a flying spell, lifting himself into the air so he wouldn't fall onto the ground.
The stone tunnel was very damp and full of sludge, and he preferred to keep clean.
"Lumos Solem-"
A brilliant light shot from his wand and hovered above Cyrus's head like a sun, illuminating almost the entire tunnel.
The tunnel leading to the Chamber of Secrets was dark and damp, perhaps because it had been built beneath the Black Lake. Water occasionally dripped from the stalactites overhead, leaving the cavern's path thick with mud.
Cyrus was glad Voldemort had invented a flying spell. The mere thought that the drops falling from overhead were connected to the Black Lake, where waste from so many of Hogwarts' toilets accumulated, made him feel a little queasy.
In reality, however, the vast Black Lake's natural ability to cleanse itself was more than enough to handle that filth, and the water's passage through the soil alone would have filtered out the impurities.
Farther in, a gigantic monster with a mouth large enough to swallow a grown adult loomed ahead, its terrifying outline lifelike in the darkness. This was the Serpent King's shed skin, a snakeskin valuable from end to end.
Voldemort had thought nothing of it, but Cyrus found it rather intriguing. After all, no basilisk had appeared in Britain for many years.
Even if there were basilisks elsewhere, they might not grow this large or live this long.
"I can find a way to take it with me later!"
A basilisk's skin possessed powerful magical resistance. Whether used to make armor or steeped in liquor-ahem, used as a Potions ingredient-it was extremely valuable.
Taking it away wouldn't be difficult, either. He only needed to use an Undetectable Extension Charm to make a suitcase with plenty of room inside, then find an opportunity to take it out of Hogwarts. The Christmas holidays would be a good choice.
He skirted the enormous snakeskin and continued deeper inside. The tunnel twisted through bend after bend until he finally found a solid wall standing ahead,
carved with two intertwined snakes, their eyes set with large, gleaming emeralds. "Open!"
A hiss escaped Cyrus's lips, sounding like an evil incantation. He was like the sovereign of snakes, commanding everything in this place!
The two snakes parted, and the stone wall split down the middle, slowly sliding out of sight to either side. Beyond the door lay a long, dimly lit room. Many towering stone pillars carved with coiling, entwined serpents supported a ceiling lost in the darkness above, casting long, eerie shadows across the chamber's mysterious green haze.
Holding Ginny's wand, Cyrus strode between the serpent-covered pillars.
He knew this place so well that he felt as comfortable as if he had returned home. His footsteps rang in loud, hollow echoes between the shadow-haunted walls.
When he drew level with the final pair of pillars, a statue as tall as the room itself loomed before him, standing against the dark rear wall.
It had an ancient, monkey-like face and a sparse, long beard that trailed almost to the hem of its carved stone wizard's robes. Two enormous gray feet stood on the room's smooth floor.
Was this Slytherin himself?
Cyrus tilted his head back to look up. The statue was ugly, but that was fine-he himself was handsome, after all. Besides, compared with Slytherin's power, his appearance had long since ceased to matter much.
"Speak to me, Slytherin-greatest of the Four Founders of Hogwarts."
Slytherin's gigantic stone face moved. Its mouth began to open, widening and widening until it formed an enormous black hole.
Cyrus closed his eyes to avoid being accidentally harmed by the basilisk's magic. Then he heard something moving inside the statue's mouth, slithering upward from its depths with a rustling sound. A moment later, something heavy struck the floor, shaking the entire Chamber of Secrets.
He could hear its heavy body sliding slowly across the dust-covered floor.
Before long, Cyrus opened his eyes again and saw the basilisk for himself.
Its scales were green, yet they reflected an iridescent sheen. Its enormous body slid over the chamber floor, forming a vast circle around Cyrus. Finally, its upper body rose behind him, its eyes, each larger than a light bulb, hanging above his head!
This was proof of its submission. An inborn gift for Parseltongue had the power to make snakes submit, while Parseltongue learned later in life was merely a language.
Fifty years of slumber had been no more than a brief instant in the basilisk's life. Now, it seemed to have gained a chance at rebirth, and its terrifying magic spilled out unchecked.
"Quiet down!"
Cyrus gave the order.
The basilisk immediately lowered its head in submission.
"Don't worry. Soon, you'll be able to move about freely. Until then, we still need to be patient." The corners of Cyrus's mouth lifted slightly. He had only come to check on the basilisk's condition today. As for the attack, he would leave that for Halloween night. Halloween at Hogwarts always seemed to be missing something if nothing unexpected happened.
After all, who could say that this festival of ghosts held no magic?
Before you continue