Sometimes, it's not about how new or old a trick is—just how well it works.
Back when the basilisk was still open to chatting and hadn't tried to attack Leon, he'd already hatched a plan. Two plans, actually.
Plan One: Soul Salad. If Leon could use his "Devour and Digest" trick on the basilisk, he'd go for it without hesitation. The benefits were huge—rapidly boosting his magical power and strengthening his soul. It was faster than any "Deep Blue, add points!" cheat code.
The basilisk might have a mighty body and potent magic, but it was still a beast—an ancient, reclusive one at that. Its intelligence was, well, limited. Sure, its soul was strong, but that came from its natural gifts: a massive body, tough defenses, and a deep well of magic. Leon, a wizard with some serious skills, figured he had a solid shot at overpowering the basilisk's soul. And honestly, digesting its soul couldn't be tougher than swallowing Voldemort's soul fragments, right? The goal? Fortify his own soul to better handle the undigested bits of Voldemort still lurking inside him.
Plan Two: Roasted Basilisk Stew. If Plan One flopped, Leon had a backup—a direct, no-nonsense approach. He'd leap, slide-tackle style, straight into the basilisk's mouth and tear it apart from the inside out. Even the mightiest basilisk was still flesh and blood, a carbon-based creature, flammable as anything. Leon was confident that if he unleashed Fiendfyre in its belly, it'd be cooked to a crisp.
To sum it up: Plan One was soul salad. Plan Two was basilisk barbecue.
Luckily, Plan One was going off without a hitch. Leon clung to the basilisk's vital spot—its "seven-inch" weak point—and chowed down, gobbling up its soul with gusto. The basilisk's soul was tough, like biting into something chewy and dense. The first bite had an earthy, musky tang—not exactly gourmet. But compared to Voldemort's soul fragments, which tasted like rancid rags and crumbled like soggy paper, this was a hundred times better. The more Leon chewed, the better it got—springy, like donkey hide, with a texture so addictive it kept him hooked. He ate and ate, losing himself in the process, until dawn's light crept in.
Burp! Leon let out a satisfied, earthy belch, patting the basilisk's massive head. The creature was now, in magical terms, "brain dead." Its body was still alive, but the control and power systems were gone—a mech on standby. Its scales were still tough, its fangs still venomous, but those deadly eyes had lost their "stare-and-die" mojo. Leon wondered if pumping magic into its eyes could reactivate that power, but there was no time for experiments.
Storing the basilisk was another problem. Without proper preservation, its body might rot fast. A fresh, "living" basilisk was far more valuable for research, and Leon didn't want to return from a day of classes to find it a stinking pile of meat. As he hopped down from its head, he cast a casual Levitation Charm.
Whoosh—THUD!
Leon shot upward, smacking the ceiling so hard his neck nearly snapped and his skull felt like it split. Pain stole his curses before they could escape. He plummeted, but quick reflexes saved him with a Cushioning Charm just before he hit the ground. No second injury, thank Merlin.
What the heck was that? A simple Levitation Charm shouldn't have launched him like a rocket! Grimacing, Leon leaned against the basilisk's tail, casting Episkey to soothe his throbbing head. "Phew…" Relief washed over him as the pain faded.
He chalked it up to a lapse in focus during the spell. Standing, he turned his thoughts to preserving the basilisk while sifting through its memories. He scoured the Chamber of Secrets' nooks and crannies, collecting shed fangs, molted skin, and other rare materials. Carefully, he extracted venom from its tongue and gathered blood and a small chunk of fresh flesh from its tail tip, freezing them for storage. Unable to resist, he chipped off a tiny piece of basilisk bone.
Leon made a mental note to visit Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing for extra Skele-Gro. He'd sneak back to the Chamber tonight to dose the basilisk. After collecting his haul, he cast Episkey on the tail wound, expecting to need a few more spells to close it. But—poof—the wound sealed perfectly.
Huh? That wasn't right. Was the wound just small? Or had he leveled up his Healing Charms from spamming them on himself? Or… Leon eyed the motionless basilisk. There was one way to find out.
He grabbed a palm-sized piece of basilisk skin from his unsorted materials. "*Engorgio!*"
A second later, the skin ballooned to the size of a blanket, draping over Leon until only his baffled face peeked out.
It clicked. When he'd absorbed Voldemort's soul fragment years ago, he'd gained the Horcrux's memories and magic. But he'd had years to adapt to that power surge, so he'd never noticed any control issues. Now, with the basilisk's soul boosting his magic, he was like a Muggle suddenly gifted super strength—crushing cups while drinking, cracking tiles while walking. His magic was amped up, and he was overshooting his spells. There was no quick fix; he'd need to practice daily, retraining himself to control his output. Mastering Grindelwald-level precision would take even more time and effort.
Time was tight, so Leon packed up his materials. He unsealed a pocket, pulling out a bottle containing a very trapped Peeves. Yes, Leon had a plan: stuff Peeves into the basilisk's body to "preserve" it temporarily. Once he found a proper storage method and location, he'd free the poltergeist.
Poor Peeves had no idea what was coming. He was still banging against the bottle, hurling creative insults at Leon in his head. Leon popped the seal, grabbed Peeves by the leg, and yanked him out. Before Peeves could savor the Chamber's musty air, Leon shoved him into the basilisk's vital spot, chanting several spells to bind him to the body. Peeves was now a low-permissions pilot in a basilisk mech.
"Whoops, my bad!"
In setting the binding duration, Leon—despite being extra careful—overdid it again. He accidentally locked Peeves in for seven months. Seven months! Long enough for Hogwarts to birth a baby Peeves!