Chapter 195. Teleportation Powder
Fawkes brought Harry and Dumbledore back to the Headmaster's office, then immediately flared into fire and vanished.
As for the Basilisk's body, it was left in the Chamber of Secrets for the time being, awaiting subsequent handling.
Phoenix tears possess formidable healing power.
Even so, although Harry still looked a complete mess—robes torn, face streaked with dust and blood—those tears had mended most of his injuries; at least he wouldn't be passing out from blood loss or pain any time soon.
Harry gave Dumbledore a detailed account of his experience in the Chamber.
After listening, Dumbledore looked gratified.
"An excellent performance, Harry," he nodded gently. "For your outstanding courage and wisdom, you will receive a Special Award for Services to the School."
Harry scratched his head, embarrassed.
In truth, he hadn't prepared at all to deal with a Basilisk; tonight's encounter had been an accident.
He had nearly died in the Basilisk's jaws.
Fortunately, Fawkes—and that sword—had helped him greatly.
"Ah, right," Harry suddenly realised something and said to Dumbledore, a little urgently, "that sword…"
"Do not worry," Dumbledore said with a smile. "That is the Sword of Gryffindor. Fawkes has already gone to retrieve it."
"The Sword of Gryffindor?" Harry was a little puzzled.
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore nodded, explaining, "it once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Since his death, it has been kept here at Hogwarts. Only one who truly possesses the particular qualities Gryffindor prized can draw it when there is need."
Harry opened his mouth, scarcely able to believe it.
He had thought it was merely a sharp magical sword, and had not expected such a legendary provenance.
Instinctively, Harry took the Sorting Hat off his head and peered inside—he wanted to see if there were any other marvellous objects in there.
"Hey!" the Sorting Hat wriggled testily. "There's nothing inside me; I'm not some place for stashing things…"
"Oh, sorry."
Harry quickly set the Sorting Hat back on the desk.
"How very impolite," the Sorting Hat muttered. "Still, you are a true Gryffindor. Don't doubt it."
Harry didn't know how to respond and could only give an awkward smile.
Just then, accompanied by a flare of fire, Fawkes reappeared in the office.
Its talons loosened, and the Sword of Gryffindor fell to the floor with a clang.
Before it struck the ground, the blade flashed silver; the Basilisk blood on it vanished in an instant, and it regained its original lustre.
"Ah, thank you, Fawkes."
Dumbledore bent to pick up the sword and handed it to Harry. "Goblin-made workmanship keeps it unaltered, and it bears certain marvellous properties. Have a good look."
Harry carefully accepted the sword, staring at it without blinking.
At last he could clearly see this legendary weapon—the ruby-studded hilt, the silver-gleaming blade, the razor edge.
It was with this sword that he had pierced the Basilisk's skull.
Such an experience is one most witches and wizards would never have in a lifetime.
"But, Professor," Harry suddenly looked at Dumbledore, doubt on his face, "why did Fawkes appear in the Chamber with the Sorting Hat?"
Dumbledore paused, then said unhurriedly, "In fact, the Basilisk ought not to have been yours to face, Harry. As you saw, the Sword of Gryffindor is fatal to a Basilisk. I asked Fawkes to take it from Hogwarts so that, upon encountering the creature, its head could be struck off."
At this, an image sprang into Harry's mind—Dumbledore brandishing the Sword of Gryffindor as he charged the Basilisk—and he shuddered all over.
He hurriedly shook his head, casting aside the absurd scene.
"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled.
"No, nothing," Harry waved a hand. "I was just thinking why the Basilisk suddenly appeared in the Chamber. You know it had been missing all this time."
"That is a question," Dumbledore nodded. "But in any case, the Basilisk has now been dealt with."
Harry suddenly recalled that everything the Basilisk had said tonight amounted to a single idea.
Namely—hunger.
Could it be that the Basilisk had come out to hunt because it was starving?
In fact, what Harry did not know was that Lockhart had not fed the Basilisk for months.
Just then, Harry noticed motes of something glittering in the air.
At some point, silvery-white powder had begun to drift through the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore naturally also noticed this strange phenomenon.
"What is this?" He slowly extended a hand, and a tiny particle of silvery-white powder fell into his palm.
He sensed a mysterious power within it.
He also caught a fresh scent like woods after rain.
At that moment, all the silvery-white powder suddenly gathered together, and within it a figure slowly appeared.
"Professor Wesson?!"
Seeing clearly, Harry called out in delight.
Yes—the one who had appeared in the office was Adrian Wesson.
What was even more surprising, Wesson was holding one person in each hand—Ron, and Lockhart.
"Poor Ron," Wesson set Ron gently down and said to Harry and Dumbledore, "I found him in the Chamber. How could you bear to leave him in that lightless hole? Ah, and well done, Harry—surely it was you who defeated the Basilisk?"
In fact, Wesson had suspected as much for some time.
Dumbledore had deliberately let Harry face the Basilisk—presumably to temper him.
After all, Harry was the saviour in whom he had placed his faith.
Hearing Wesson's praise, Harry's face drew tight at once.
After a life-and-death struggle, he had actually forgotten Ron lying to one side.
He rushed over to check on Ron's condition.
"Don't worry," Wesson smiled. "Ron will wake up in a moment. I gave him a draught. Very lucky my amulet did its job."
Ron had met the Basilisk's gaze face-on; without the amulet's protection, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
At Wesson's words, Harry finally let out a breath.
By now, the silvery-white powder drifting in the air had completely dispersed.
Dumbledore watched all this with keen interest.
"Did you use that powder to find your way here?" He looked at Wesson, curiosity in his eyes.
Wesson nodded. "Ah, yes. This is my latest research—Teleportation Powder."
He turned his head to Harry as he spoke. "Just scatter a handful and you can jump to a pre-set location—like Floo powder. As for how to set the point… Harry, do you still remember the amulet I gave you?"
"Of course."
Harry rummaged frantically about himself and finally produced a small wooden token.
This amulet carried a portion of "space–time" properties.
Wesson had been able to find Ron in a corner of the Chamber entirely by using such an amulet for positioning.
Dumbledore fell into thought.
That kind of Teleportation Powder could actually break through Hogwarts' anti-Apparition restrictions; perhaps he ought to find a way to reinforce the school's existing safeguards.
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