The disorienting compression of elven Apparition vanished as quickly as it had seized him. Orion Malfoy stumbled slightly as his boots hit the uneven, damp flagstones of the Chamber of Secrets, the silence of the subterranean cavern pressing in on him like a physical weight.
The air was foul, thick with the smell of stagnant water, ancient stone, and the sharp, metallic tang of recently spilled, massive quantities of blood.
Dobby released Orion's hand, instantly dropping into a low, defensive crouch, his large eyes wide and luminous in the gloom.
"Dobby brought Master Orion to the right place," the elf squeaked softly, pointing a trembling finger toward the center of the vast room.
Lying motionless under the towering, shadowed face of Salazar Slytherin was the mountain of green, armored scales. The Basilisk looked even larger in the dim, flickering wand-light, its ruined, bloody eye sockets and gaping, fang-filled maw a terrifying testament to the violence that had occurred hours prior.
Orion straightened his posture, unbothered by the sight. He drew his Hawthorn wand, casting a strong, focused Lumos to illuminate the immediate area.
"Best not to look at it too closely, Dobby," Orion advised smoothly, side-stepping a massive pool of dark venom that hissed softly where it touched the stone. "It's rather gross up close. A masterpiece of dark breeding, but aesthetically displeasing in its current state."
He glanced toward the towering stone mouth of the statue, which hung open, revealing the dark, endless pipe that the beast had emerged from.
"Whatever secrets Salazar left behind," Orion murmured, "they aren't out here in the foyer."
He reached into his expanded pocket and pulled out the sleeping Niffler. Robin grumbled, a soft, vibrating snore escaping his long snout.
Orion gave the furry creature a firm, unceremonious shake.
"Wha—? Shiny?!" Robin chirped, jolting awake instantly, his beady eyes snapping open, scanning the dark, damp cavern with a mixture of confusion and immediate greed.
"Robin," Orion commanded, setting the Niffler down on a relatively dry patch of stone. "Search the perimeter. Sniff out the entire area. Tell me if you find anything of value. Gold, silver, hidden compartments, ancient heirlooms. I want a full sweep of the immediate chamber."
"Shiny hunt!" Robin squeaked enthusiastically, dropping to all fours and immediately beginning to scurry along the edge of a massive stone pillar, his nose twitching violently.
Orion turned to his house-elf. "Dobby, stay with Robin. I do not want him falling down a drainage pipe or getting wedged behind a statue. Ensure he covers the ground thoroughly."
"Dobby will guard the furry thief!" Dobby nodded vigorously, trotting after the rapidly accelerating Niffler.
With his reconnaissance team deployed, Orion turned his attention to the primary objective.
He approached the massive, fallen head of the Basilisk. The sheer scale of the creature was staggering; a single fang was longer than his entire arm. The smell of the venom was sharp, acidic, and made his eyes water slightly as he knelt beside the open, ruined jaw.
"Inventory," Orion whispered.
The reinforced leather case materialized in his hands. He opened it, revealing the twelve empty, lead-lined crystal vials nestled in the velvet interior.
"This is incredibly dangerous," Sparkle's interface hovered near his shoulder, casting a faint blue glow over the beast's scales. "If you slip, or if a single drop of that venom touches exposed skin, you will boil from the inside out before Dobby can even Apparate you to the Hospital Wing."
"Which is why I am taking extreme care," Orion replied internally, his face a mask of absolute, icy focus.
He didn't touch the fangs directly. He used a precise, controlled Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa, to carefully manipulate a vial directly beneath one of the massive, dripping fangs. He gently coaxed the venom out, filling the first vial to the brim before securely corking it with a flick of his wand.
He repeated the process, moving with the methodical, agonizingly slow precision of a bomb disposal expert. He filled eight vials with pure, unadulterated Basilisk venom, sealing each one tightly and placing them back into the lead-lined case.
"The ultimate corrosive agent," Orion murmured, a satisfied smirk touching his lips as he secured the final venom vial. "Capable of destroying virtually any magical construct or artifact. A necessary tool."
He shifted his position slightly, moving toward a massive laceration on the beast's neck where a Hit Wizard's Bombarda had managed to crack a few scales, exposing the dark, thick blood beneath.
Using the remaining four vials, Orion carefully siphoned the Basilisk blood, sealing them away with the venom.
"Twelve vials," Orion noted, clicking the case shut. "A fortune in raw materials."
He stood up, his knees popping slightly from the damp cold of the floor. He looked at the massive expanse of green scales covering the body. The hide itself was practically impervious to standard magic, a natural armor that would fetch an exorbitant price or provide unparalleled protection if crafted into clothing.
Orion raised his Hawthorn wand, aiming it at a cluster of scales near the beast's tail.
"Diffindo," he cast, putting a significant amount of power behind the Severing Charm.
A sharp, invisible blade of magic struck the scales. It sparked, a harsh, metallic clack echoing in the cavern, but the spell simply bounced off, leaving not even a scratch on the iridescent surface.
Orion frowned, adjusting his grip. "Relashio."
He tried a Blasting Curse, a Gouging Charm, and even a localized Incendio to try and burn a scale loose. Every single spell was either absorbed or deflected harmlessly.
"Resistant is an understatement," Orion sighed in frustration, lowering his wand. "It's practically a magical mirror. Unless I know the specific harvesting charms used by Ministry professionals, I'm just going to dull my wand trying to carve it up."
"It's a specialized skill set," Sparkle agreed. "You got the venom and the blood. That's the high-value liquid assets. Leave the butchery to the experts tomorrow morning."
"Agreed," Orion conceded, running a hand through his hair. "Forget the hide. It's too much effort for a single night's work."
He vanished the leather case back into his Inventory grid, the weight of his success settling pleasantly in his chest. He turned his attention back to the cavern.
"Robin! Dobby!" Orion called out, his voice echoing over the damp stones.
From the far end of the chamber, near the gaping mouth of the Slytherin statue, a small, black blur came tearing across the floor, followed closely by a panting house-elf.
"Accio Niffler," Orion muttered lazily, snapping his wand upward.
The spell caught the speeding creature, yanking Robin gently through the air. Orion caught the squirming Niffler by the scruff of his neck, holding him at eye level.
"Well?" Orion asked, checking the creature's bottomless pouch for any new bulges. "Is there anything around here worth the trip? A hidden vault? A secret library of dark arts?"
Robin let out a long, tragic, disappointed squeak.
"Nothing!" the Niffler complained telepathically, crossing his tiny arms over his chest. "No shiny! No gold! Just wet rocks, old bones, and wrong smells! Bad Place!"
"The entire place is barren?" Orion asked, genuinely surprised. "You couldn't sense anything?"
"Nothing but water," Robin confirmed, looking thoroughly depressed at the lack of loot.
Orion lowered the Niffler, a sense of profound anticlimax washing over him.
"Salazar Slytherin," Orion sighed, looking around the massive, damp, empty cavern. "One of the greatest wizards of his age, a founding father of Hogwarts... and he builds a secret lair that is essentially a giant, wet, empty snake pit. The man had absolutely zero interior design sense. Not a single bookshelf. Not a single cursed artifact."
"Maybe he kept all his good stuff in the actual castle," Sparkle suggested. "Why store your favorite books in a sewer?"
"A fair point," Orion muttered, stuffing a very unhappy Robin back into his expanded pocket and tossing him a consolation Fool's Jewel. "At least we got the venom and the blood. The biological assets alone are worth the trip."
He turned to Dobby, who was standing nearby, shivering slightly in the damp chill of the subterranean vault.
"We are done here, Dobby," Orion announced, offering his hand to the elf. "The operation is complete. Take us back to the dormitory. It is time we officially ended this day."
"Yes, Master Orion!" Dobby grasped his hand firmly.
With a final, echoing CRACK, the damp, foul-smelling darkness of the Chamber of Secrets vanished, replaced instantly by the familiar, muffled quiet of the Slytherin Second-Year dormitory.
Orion stumbled slightly as his boots hit the soft rug, quickly recovering his balance in the faint, green-tinted light of his four-poster bed. The rhythmic snoring of Crabbe and Goyle confirmed that his absence had gone entirely unnoticed.
"You are dismissed, Dobby," Orion whispered, releasing the elf's hand. "Get some rest. You have earned it."
"Dobby serves the great Master Orion!" The elf bowed deeply and popped out of existence, returning to the manor.
Orion kicked off his dragon-hide boots and collapsed backward onto his mattress, letting out a long, exhausted groan. The physical and magical toll of the last twenty-four hours was finally catching up to him. He felt like he had run a marathon while doing complex Arithmancy in his head.
"You want me to run the achievement log?" Sparkle's interface flashed brightly in the dim light, her voice buzzing with eager anticipation. "The system is practically overflowing."
Orion closed his eyes, throwing a heavy arm over his face.
"Not now, Sparkle," Orion murmured, his voice slurring slightly with sleep. "Best keep it for when I am actually conscious enough to appreciate the irony of it all."
"Fine," Sparkle relented, her interface dimming to a soft, soothing blue glow. "But it's a massive list. Sleep well, mastermind."
"Goodnight, Sparkle," Orion whispered.
Within seconds, the breathing of the young Slytherin evened out, joining the symphony of snores in the dormitory. The Chamber was closed, the Basilisk was dead, the Diary was secured, and the Cloak of Invisibility was locked in a digital vault.
Year Two was effectively over, and It was still late February.