Victor was strolling leisurely through the dimly lit corridor when he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw Adele and Luna.
— Decided to take a walk before curfew? — Victor smiled. — Care to keep me company?
The girls nodded and fell into step on either side of him.
— We were looking for you, — Adele said seriously.
— Me? And what did you need me for?
— We wanted to ask why everyone is acting so strangely toward Harry Potter? — Luna asked in her usual detached tone.
— Ah, you're talking about that... — Victor nodded calmly. — It was revealed at today's duel that Harry is a Parselmouth.
— A what? — Adele frowned, puzzled.
— A Parselmouth. Someone who understands the language of snakes and can speak it.
— And that's a bad thing?
Victor shrugged:
— I wouldn't say it's a bad thing; it's just a rare gift. In places like Africa, it's quite common, but here at Hogwarts, that gift has a very bad reputation. People love to slap labels on others. — He suddenly stopped and fell silent; his senses were screaming that something was wrong just around the corner.
— Why is there water here? — Luna also stopped, looking down at her feet.
Victor looked down. The floor was flooded with a thin layer of water that shimmered in the torchlight. They rounded the corner, and Victor suddenly froze. His face became impenetrable.
— Right, girls, — he gently turned them around. — Head back to your common room quickly. And try not to walk around alone; it's not safe here.
Once they were out of sight, Victor walked forward calmly. Passing the floating Almost Headless Nick, he approached the boy lying on the wet floor. Victor recognized him immediately—the guy the cobra had targeted during the duel earlier that day.
— Should I call someone? Eh, never mind... Harry is going to find him soon anyway.
He turned around and headed toward the Headmaster's office at a leisurely pace. Reaching the office, Victor entered without knocking and looked around.
— Headmaster? Are you here?
— I am up here, Victor, — Dumbledore replied from the upper level of the library.
Victor climbed the spiral staircase and found Albus at his desk, completely absorbed in reading a letter.
— Who's writing? — Victor asked, stepping closer.
— An old friend of mine. A prominent expert on magical creatures. I am consulting with him regarding the Basilisk.
— Oh, right, I almost forgot why I came, — Victor slapped his forehead. — About the Basilisk. There's another petrified student on the second floor. And, it seems, a ghost to go with him.
Dumbledore's expression changed instantly. He didn't ask unnecessary questions; he simply stood up abruptly and vanished in a light pop, dissolving into a whirlwind of apparation.
Victor just shrugged, sat down in his chair like he owned the place, and, pulling the discarded letter toward himself, began to read it with interest. When Dumbledore reappeared in the office, Victor didn't even look up.
— Thank Merlin, he is alive, — the Headmaster said, catching his breath.
— Yeah, I know, I'm the one who found him, — Victor set the letter aside. — So, it's not a coincidence. The Basilisk isn't killing anyone on purpose.
— Perhaps it is trying to avoid drawing too much attention? — the Headmaster suggested thoughtfully.
Victor chuckled:
— Yeah, sure. Two petrified students, a cat, and a ghost—all in a day's work. Do you think, besides the two of us, anyone else has noticed that something is wrong in the school? — Even some of the headmasters in the portraits smiled at his sarcasm.
But Dumbledore wasn't amused; he only rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily.
— Forgive me, Victor. I am not getting nearly enough sleep. My thoughts are moving slower than usual.
A dull rumble of machinery sounded below—the staircase began to move.
— Are you expecting someone? — Victor stood up from the chair.
— It should be Harry. I asked Minerva to send him to me: he also stumbled upon poor Justin.
— Who would have doubted it, — Victor scoffed. — That boy attracts trouble like a magnet attracts iron.
Approaching the railing, Victor saw Harry approaching the bird on its stand. As soon as the boy reached out, Fawkes suddenly burst into blinding flame and, in the blink of an eye, turned into a pile of gray, smoking ash.
— DAMMIT, HARRY! — Victor's shout rang out from above. — How did you manage that? I left you unsupervised for a couple of minutes, and you managed to burn the Headmaster's phoenix!
Harry recoiled in horror, pale as a sheet.
— No! It wasn't me! I didn't do anything, it just... burst into flames!
Looking at his face, distorted by fear, Victor couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.
— Hahaha! Relax, I'm joking.
— Don't worry, Harry, it's not your fault, his time had long since come. He's looked quite ill these past few days, — Dumbledore's voice, as he slowly descended the stairs, sounded soothing. — Fawkes is a phoenix. When it is time to die, they burst into flame and then rise from their own ashes. Watch...
Harry approached timidly. Something stirred in the gray dust, and a tiny, wrinkled, and rather funny-looking fledgling head appeared.
Dumbledore smiled warmly:
— Amazing creatures. They can carry immense loads, and their tears possess great healing power.
Suddenly, the heavy doors of the office flew open, and a breathless Hagrid burst inside. He was clutching a dead rooster in his hands.
— Professor Dumbledore! Harry had nothing to do with this! He couldn't have done it! I'll swear it under oath if I have to! Even at the Ministry!
— Hagrid, calm down, — the Headmaster interrupted gently, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. — No one is accusing Harry of anything.
Hagrid stopped mid-sentence, blinking frequently, and shifted his bewildered gaze from the Headmaster to the stunned Potter.
— Oh... — he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, nearly hitting one of the silver instruments on the desk with the rooster. — Yeah? Well, then... I'll be going. Sorry for the interruption.
Victor, who until this moment had been watching the scene from above with interest, slowly descended the spiral staircase.
— I suppose it's time for me to go as well, — he said, passing by Harry Potter. Near the door, Victor turned and gave them a short nod: — Goodnight, everyone. And Harry, try not to burn anything next time.
Victor decided to rest for the night and headed straight to the Slytherin common room. Upon entering, he noticed Daphne—she was sitting on the sofa, wrapped tightly in her robes. Seeing him, she jumped up sharply, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyebrows were furrowed in anger.
— Where have you been?! — she hissed, not hiding her irritation. — I asked you to be careful! Another student has been attacked. Do you realize you could be the next target? If I were the Heir of Slytherin, you would be the first one I'd get rid of as the biggest Mudblood in the school.
Victor silently studied her angry, firelit face. A soft smile played on his lips. He slowly approached, closing the distance between them. Daphne fell silent but did not look away. Victor gently put his arm around her waist, looking into her eyes.
— I am very happy to know that you are so worried about me, — he whispered, and his voice sounded unexpectedly tender in the quiet of the common room. — But believe me, I am capable of taking care of myself. I am not afraid of the one who opened the Chamber, nor of the monster that hides there.
Gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he stepped back, ready to leave.
— And now, it's time for both of us to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.
Daphne remained standing by the fireplace. A deep blush spread across her cheeks, and her anger gave way to confusion.
— Well, I'm worried about you, you idiot, — she whispered barely audibly into the void.
As always when the weekend arrived, they gathered in the Fight Club. Victor surveyed his followers with a warm smile.
— Well then, my little demons! — Victor's voice rang out through the hall, instantly silencing everyone. — I want to solemnly introduce our new members, who have become part of our big, friendly family.
Victor pointed to a group of first-years. All of them, to the last one, had pledged loyalty to his faction. The hall erupted in cheers and applause.
— Haha, alright, quiet down! Don't scare them, — Victor raised his hands soothingly. — I ask each of you to take care of our younger brothers. They are one of us now. I also ask you to welcome Luna Lovegood. Even though she is not in our faction, she is a close friend of my sister Adele's.
Luna greeted those present politely, holding Adele's hand firmly. Then she shifted her dreamy, detached gaze to her friend:
— And what exactly will we be doing in the Fight Club?
Adele, who already felt at home here, explained:
— We learn spells here and practice them. If you want, we can even have a duel.
— Is it not dangerous? — Luna tilted her head slightly.
— It's fine, — added Hermione, who had walked up. — If things get out of hand, Victor intervenes immediately.
Luna looked at Victor, who was currently explaining the rules to the first-years in a businesslike manner.