"Everyone, be sure to give this story a Powerstone! Also, 30 advanced chapters of this story are uploaded on my Patreon—you can go there and read them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for 30 advanced chapter, visit my patreon
'patreon.com/fatimasoomro123'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"
Chapter 132 — Roosters and a Powerful Potion
Basilisks have deadly fangs and a magical gaze capable of killing anyone who meets their eyes. They often hunt spiders, their natural enemies—but they themselves fear roosters. The moment they hear a rooster crow, they flee in panic. A rooster's crow is fatal to a Basilisk.
"Huh, I never thought something that terrifying would be afraid of roosters. Maybe we should just buy a bunch of roosters and throw them into Slytherin," Ron shrugged. Now that he knew how to deal with the Basilisk, it didn't seem so scary anymore.
"Apparently the Basilisk's gaze can kill people. So why was Mrs. Norris only petrified?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
"Maybe the Basilisk has been starving in the Chamber for centuries and is weakened… or maybe Malfoy is just trying to control it to drive students out of the school?" Harry replied uncertainly.
"That makes sense. The last time we saw Mrs. Norris attacked, there were spiders everywhere," Ron said. He hated spiders, so that detail stuck with him.
"So we should find a rooster," he added.
"Forget it. George already bought a bunch and sent them over. The DA room also has some reserved for us. I ran over earlier but didn't get one," Harry said with a strange expression. "Honestly, carrying a rooster around for days would be pretty embarrassing."
"For safety, carrying a rooster is fine," Hermione said reluctantly, "but let's not dwell on it. We should just wait for Dumbledore's plan… whatever it is."
Harry scratched his head helplessly. "Unless you've got a better idea."
"I think I might," Hermione said, biting her lip. She didn't want to use this method, but it seemed like the only option left.
"What is it?" Ron immediately asked.
"We go directly into the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy. If he doesn't recognize us, he'll easily reveal his snake-like voice," Hermione said calmly.
"You're joking," Ron said, turning away. That wasn't funny at all.
"I'm not joking. It's real. We just need a certain potion," Hermione continued. "Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago."
"A few weeks ago?" they all looked at her in disbelief. Who remembers something like that?
"Snape is awful as a person, but his potion skills are excellent," Hermione said honestly.
"Right…" Harry muttered. He couldn't really compare. He believed Professor Sprout or George could be just as good as Snape at potions. He couldn't tell the difference—but he believed it anyway.
"The Polyjuice Potion lets you become someone else. We could turn into three Slytherin students, and no one would notice. Then Malfoy would reveal everything. Maybe he's even in the Slytherin common room right now, bragging," Hermione explained.
Though she didn't truly want to use this method, George had lost interest in the Chamber, so this was all they had left.
"That's risky," Ron frowned. "What if the potion doesn't work properly? If we get stuck as someone else, that would be awful." He imagined being stuck in someone else's body—like Crabbe—and shuddered.
"No, it wears off," Hermione said impatiently. "You should trust experts more."
Ron didn't look convinced. "And how do we even get it?"
Hermione hesitated. "Snape said the recipe is in a book called Most Potente Potions, but it's definitely in the Restricted Section."
To access the Restricted Section, they needed a signed permission slip from a teacher.
"We don't have any reason to borrow that book," Ron said bluntly. "We're not even making potions like that."
"If we pretend we're interested in the theory, we still have a chance," Hermione insisted.
"Yeah, and teachers will totally fall for that," Ron said sarcastically.
Hermione wasn't confident either. "We'll see."
And soon, the opportunity came.
Defense Against the Dark Arts class was, as always, a joke. Since the Cornish pixie incident, Lockhart no longer dared to bring live creatures into class—but that didn't improve things.
Instead, he filled the classroom by reading aloud from his books, turning the entire lesson into a stage performance.
He sang, acted, and exaggerated every scene dramatically.
Harry's worst part was being forced to participate. One moment he was a villager trapped in a Bubble Charm, the next a sick Himalayan Yeti, then a vampire—or a vampire who ate carrots.
Today, he was a werewolf again.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha—"
Lockhart's booming laughter filled the room as he continued praising Harry's "performance," only making Harry feel more humiliated.
Then Lockhart gestured dramatically at the class.
"But the moment I leapt forward—like this—I knocked him down, pressed my wand to his throat…"
"I fought him, subdued him, and cast a complex, advanced spell… though sadly, it has been lost to time. He let out a tragic scream…"
(To be continued.)