You know, there's a rather significant difference between merely understanding Parseltongue and being a true Parselmouth. A Parseltongue speaker simply comprehends the language of serpents, much like knowing any other foreign tongue. But a Parselmouth, well, they possess an inherent, inborn gift that allows them to command all serpentine creatures. It's like the difference between understanding a Muggle's language and being able to make them do your bidding! A Parselmouth can command serpents to do just about anything, and that's a power even more formidable, in terms of practical wizarding application, than the Dumbledore family's own "phoenix companionship."
After all, Fawkes, a phoenix, isn't something one encounters every day. Even Albus Dumbledore's nephew, Credence, had to wait until he was quite grown before Gellert Grindelwald managed to find one for him. Snakes, however, are simply everywhere, whether in the Muggle world or the wizarding one. And the reach of Parselmouths extends to all manner of serpents, from a magnificent magical creature like the Basilisk, often called the King of Serpents, to a cursed Maledictus like Nagini – they all must obey.
It's curious, but breeding a Basilisk isn't actually as difficult as one might think. Its complexity is comparable to mastering advanced Transfiguration, such as becoming an Animagus. Many wizards, thirsting for immense power, have bravely attempted this dangerous feat, yet every single one has met with failure. Why? Because a Basilisk only heeds the command of a Parselmouth.
In Newt Scamander's esteemed volume, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, it's noted that there hasn't been a recorded sighting of a Basilisk in the wizarding world for over four hundred years. In the original tale, young Harry Potter himself scribbled in the margin of his textbook next to that very sentence, "That's what you think!" Indeed, Harry had firsthand experience with a Basilisk. And now, it seems, Gilderoy Lockhart has too.
Professor Scamander was quite right; no matter how experienced those dozen powerful wizards in Lockhart's memories might have been, they surely hadn't encountered a Basilisk. For the sake of compiling his upcoming tome, Where Black Magical Creatures Are Found, and also to educate these young witches and wizards by showcasing a Basilisk and inspiring them to discover methods of defeating it, Lockhart felt compelled to gather some firsthand research.
Following the Trail
This led him to trail none other than Ginny Weasley late one night, all the way to the girls' lavatory. Truth be told, Lockhart found it rather perplexing why Salazar Slytherin would choose to place the entrance to his Chamber of Secrets in a girls' toilet. It seemed, well, a bit… unsavoury. Even if some might argue it was due to later renovations of the school, the stone sink and taps at the Chamber's entrance are undeniably standard lavatory fixtures. Unless, of course, this was originally Slytherin's own private washroom.
That thought, then, begs another question: after Salazar Slytherin departed Hogwarts, who dared to transform a school founder's private washroom—perhaps even one attached to an office, given its size—into a public girls' lavatory? Was it you, Godric Gryffindor? Heh heh.
Lockhart noticed that when he entered his "ghostly state," his thoughts seemed to escape all restraint, constantly conjuring up all sorts of peculiar ideas, bubbling forth like steam from a kettle. He drifted through the very walls of the castle, occasionally poking out just half his face to observe Ginny's demeanour.
With Halloween, one of the most important wizarding holidays, just a few days away, Hogwarts was once again enveloped in a prolonged rainy season. The night sky was as black as ink, and a ceaseless downpour washed over the ancient castle grounds. A chill seeped into every nook and cranny of the castle; dew condensed on the walls, and everything felt damp. The professors and teachers patrolling the castle at night often cast drying charms in the corridors, but to little effect, as the dampness would return moments later.
Ginny glided through the corridor, her steps uneven, almost as if she were a lost spirit. Anyone unaware of her predicament might have thought her a sleepwalker. She soon arrived at the disused girls' lavatory, haunted by the ghost of Moaning Myrtle. Stepping through the puddles on the floor, she reached a large, cracked, and mottled mirror. Her eyes, devoid of expression, gazed at her own blurred and distorted reflection. After a long moment of stillness, she propped her hands on the edge of the stone sink beneath the mirror and hissed a strange sound at one of the brass taps.
Instantly, the tap gleamed with a brilliant white light and began to spin furiously. The stone sink then slowly slid away, revealing a large, dark pipe entrance below. Without hesitation, Ginny, her body stiff, stepped forward and plunged in. The pipe was pitch-black and slimy, but its very grime seemed to cushion the young witch, preventing any harm as she slid rapidly downwards. She twisted and turned through the winding passage, finally dropping out of another pipe opening onto a damp floor.
The space here was quite vast, easily tall enough for an adult to stand upright. She continued forward, navigating more twists and turns. Soon, the path was littered with the bodies and bones of small creatures, emitting a dreadful stench. After walking a short distance, she came upon a green snakeskin, piled high like a small hill. Finally, she reached the end of the sewer, where a stone wall blocked her path. Engraved upon it were two intertwined serpents, their eyes set with large, glistening green emeralds.
Hisss, hisss, hisss…
Ginny spoke Parseltongue once more, and the door to the Chamber of Secrets swung open. She stumbled through, step by rigid step. The Chamber itself was immense, with towering stone pillars carved with twisting, coiling serpents, supporting the high ceiling. Continuing past these pillars, one could eventually see a colossal stone statue at the far end, as tall as the Chamber itself. It depicted a barefoot, bald, long-bearded old wizard: none other than Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders of Hogwarts.
With another Parseltongue hiss, the mouth of Slytherin's statue gaped open, revealing a colossal, coiled monster within, stretching its mighty form. It was the Basilisk! It rapidly slithered down the statue's body and coiled before Ginny. It hissed something that sounded rather agitated. Ginny looked up, reaching out a hand to gently stroke its cheek, comforting it, and leaned her small head against it, whispering softly.
Neither she nor the Basilisk noticed a faint blink from the eye socket of a serpentine carving on a nearby stone pillar, revealing a pale, translucent eye. It was Lockhart. He was observing everything with great interest. The Basilisk before him was clearly a female, for male Basilisks possess a distinct characteristic: a scarlet crest upon their heads, which this one lacked. It is this crest that gives the male its title of King of Serpents, like a crown. Her skin, moreover, appeared to be in excellent condition, as if she had just shed it—and indeed, he had already seen the discarded skin on the way in.
The Basilisk's Power (or Lack Thereof)
To be honest, the Basilisk wasn't as formidable as some might imagine. Its offensive capabilities were limited to three: its immense body, which, while large, was less threatening than a troll or a giant, something the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell, could have easily handled. Its other power was its deadly gaze, but when Harry Potter entered the Chamber in the original story, Albus Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, effortlessly pecked out the Basilisk's eyes. And finally, its venomous fangs, whose potent venom could swiftly lead to death, but again, Fawkes's tears provided the cure.
In fact, in the original narrative, the Basilisk's clumsy body simply couldn't harm the nimble phoenix, while the phoenix's golden beak inflicted wound after wound upon it. Had Harry Potter not been present, Fawkes would have dealt with that creature rather quickly. Tsk, Gryffindor always seems to possess some treasure that perfectly counters Slytherin's serpents. Like Harry Potter's wand, which was paired with Voldemort's. One wonders if that's a curse in itself.
Ginny unleashed the Basilisk to stretch its formidable body in the Hogwarts sewers, seemingly to restore its vigour. After about an hour, she returned it to its lair within Slytherin's statue, then left the Chamber. This time, she didn't venture far. Using a Hover Charm, she levitated out of the pipe and, swaying unsteadily, found a deserted classroom near the lavatory where she promptly fell into a deep slumber. To use someone and then discard them, young Tom Riddle showed not the slightest concern for Ginny's plight. He was truly cold-blooded and uncaring.
Lockhart's Plan
Lockhart muttered to himself, but he didn't awaken Ginny. He quietly floated out from the wall behind her, landing above the haphazard stack of desks and chairs. He extended his wand and gave a gentle flick towards her. Silvery threads of light drifted forth, quickly flowing towards him.
Lockhart had been diligently observing Ginny's state lately. After teaching her a great deal about resisting Dark magic, it became clear that Tom Riddle was beginning to struggle. Young Tom's plans were not progressing smoothly. He was forced to expend considerable energy and seize the rare moments when Ginny opened up, to reinforce his previous influence and correct the confusion in her behaviour and thoughts caused by the instinctive imprinting.
Oh dear, Ginny has encountered a truly competent professor! Young Tom realised this, yet he was powerless to dissuade Ginny from attending this duelling club, where she could even be in Harry Potter's company. He had to resort to more complex methods to influence Ginny, confronting her increasingly potent resistance to his sway, all while maintaining a state that was now teetering on the brink.
Excellent! Simply excellent! Lockhart grinned broadly as he absorbed these memories. This time, he had learned many fascinating techniques for manipulating memories and souls, some even touching upon bloodline magic. One couldn't help but wonder, what was Tom researching such magic for? Was he perhaps planning to strip away his Muggle heritage? Lockhart chuckled naughtily, then waved his wand over Ginny once more.
The timing was perfect. Tom would surely accept that Ginny had undergone some changes; he would never suspect that someone was meddling. After all… Lockhart was using Tom's very own methods. More Tom-like than Tom himself, truly authentic. Oh, little Tom, prepare to face this unexpected surprise! He could hardly wait to see his reaction.
No! Lockhart was even more eager to witness the reaction of Voldemort, the one observing coldly from outside the school. That would be utterly delightful. He then cast a deep, final look at Ginny before transforming back into his ghostly state and disappearing entirely into the wall.