Chapter 177. The Fourth
Wesson shot round the second-floor corner and almost collided with a figure—Gilderoy Lockhart.
Lockhart looked thoroughly flustered.
"What happened?" He grabbed Wesson's arm, panicking.
Clearly, he'd heard the scream as well.
Wesson had no time to deal with Lockhart. He shook off his hand and kept running towards the source of the sound on the second floor. Lockhart hesitated for a moment, then hurried after him.
At last, they arrived.
Right in front of the Transfiguration classroom, a grey figure lay flat on the floor.
Wesson's face hardened; once he drew closer, he discovered it was a student who had been petrified.
So it was the Basilisk, after all!
Once he had confirmed this, Wesson pressed himself to the wall and listened.
Judging by the timing, the Basilisk couldn't have gone far.
Sure enough, after casting a charm to amplify what he could hear, he finally caught a faint scraping along the floor.
"Found you!"
Wesson shot forward like an arrow loosed from the string.
Closer, and closer—
He skidded to a stop before a blank stretch of wall.
"Diffindo!"
Wesson pointed his wand straight ahead and shouted the incantation.
A blinding red light burst from the tip of his wand.
"Boom!"
Stone chips flew; dust billowed.
When the haze finally settled, the entire stone wall was webbed with cracks and then collapsed with a crash, revealing an empty room behind it.
Seeing this, Wesson winced.
He'd assumed Hogwarts's walls were sturdier than that, so he'd used a touch more force.
As it turned out, he'd rather overdone it. He'd meant to open a small hole, but somehow managed to drop the whole wall.
Let's hope Dumbledore doesn't blame me…
Since it was already like this, there was nothing for it but to brazen it out.
Wesson shrugged, stepped forward at once, and crouched to examine the broken edge of the wall.
Amidst rubble and dust, a massive pipe loomed into view—this was the Basilisk's route of travel.
Fresh gouges still scored the inner surface of the pipe; clearly, the Basilisk had just passed through.
And to confirm this even further, green liquid was splashed around the mouth of the pipe, reeking with a fishy stench.
That also meant Wesson's Severing Charm had struck the Basilisk and had some effect.
Unfortunately, it had still slipped away down the pipe.
Wesson stared into the depthless dark and wisely gave up the idea of pursuit.
If the Basilisk were waiting at the outlet with its jaws open, that would be disastrous.
"Merlin's hair!"
Lockhart finally caught up, panting, and was dumbstruck at the scene. "Oh—what have you done? If you're trying to get attention, I don't recommend doing it this way…"
"I didn't want to," Wesson said over his shoulder, casual. "How's the child?"
"Ah, don't worry," Lockhart drew himself up and said stoutly, "with me here, no one's life is in danger."
Of course, Wesson didn't believe a word of it.
He'd only asked in passing; he'd never expected Lockhart to provide anything accurate.
Wesson returned at once to the scene and began to check the situation.
This time, the victim was a third-year Ravenclaw girl.
Wesson did have some impression of this student—she had chosen his Care of Magical Creatures class.
The petrified girl lay on her back, a small broken mirror still clutched in her hand.
She must have seen the Basilisk's eyes through the mirror, which was why she'd been petrified.
Wesson let out a small breath.
Since she hadn't looked directly into the Basilisk's eyes, her life wasn't in danger.
However, Wesson's supply of antidote was gone.
He didn't have any mature Mandrakes on hand, either.
Fortunately, he remembered that Professor Sprout had planted Mandrakes at the start of term. By his reckoning, it was about time for the harvest.
Just then, footsteps approached.
Professor McGonagall came hurrying up with a stack of papers in her arms.
"I heard a great commotion—what's happened?"
She drew near, caught sight of the student lying on the floor at a glance, and her expression grew grave.
"Another petrification," Wesson explained succinctly. "Just now."
Professor McGonagall strode forward and quickly checked the student's condition.
Once she'd confirmed what had happened, she thrust the papers into Lockhart's arms and said, solemnly, "Keep these for me. I'll notify Professor Dumbledore at once."
"Oh—right." Lockhart fumbled to receive them.
Professor McGonagall swept away like the wind.
Wesson and the flustered Lockhart remained where they were.
Before long, passing students noticed something was wrong and gathered round, curious.
Wesson did not drive them away; there was no need to conceal anything.
Better to let everyone see the truth with their own eyes than to shroud it and cause panic.
Besides, having the students stay here was fine; at least he could protect them.
As the crowd grew thicker, Dumbledore finally arrived with Professor McGonagall.
"All students, back to your dormitories at once!" Dumbledore called.
As expected, his words took effect at once, and the students quickly cleared the scene.
When the area was secured, Wesson reported the incident to Dumbledore, clear and to the point.
"You say you injured the creature?" Dumbledore seized on the point at once. "Where?"
Wesson led the group to the missing stretch of wall.
Upon seeing that an entire wall was gone, Dumbledore blinked and stood there for a moment.
A beat later, he sighed. "That is…unexpected."
"Repairing this wall will take quite a bit of work," Professor McGonagall said as she stepped forward, surprised.
Wesson rubbed his nose in embarrassment.
He really hadn't meant it.
In fact, the castle walls at Hogwarts were anything but ordinary; many defensive enchantments had been laid on them.
They weren't easy to damage—let alone break through.
He had overestimated the wall's defensive strength—or rather, underestimated the power of his own spell.
Either way, fixing it would be a nuisance.
This was one reason students were forbidden to use magic in the corridors.
Dumbledore quickly noticed the massive passage concealed within the wall.
That keen mind of his grasped it at once—the Basilisk was moving through the pipes.
No wonder they hadn't found any trace of it after all this time.
Who would pay attention to hidden pipework?
"We must take action, Albus," Professor McGonagall said gravely, having realised it as well. "More students will be attacked."
"I will see to it," said Dumbledore.
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