Draco Malfoy's eyelids twitched violently before he finally managed to peel them open.
He found himself lying flat on his back on a freezing, solid stone floor. Surrounding him was an incredibly vast, eerie subterranean hall. In the distance, a colossal statue loomed in the shadows, and the pungent, metallic stench of fresh blood hung heavy in the damp air.
Wait!
The Basilisk! Voldemort! And Maurise Black!
Draco scrambled desperately to his feet, panic seizing his chest. He whipped his head around, instantly locking eyes with a highly cheerful, smiling face.
"Awake, are we? How are you feeling, Malfoy? Any lingering discomfort?"
Maurise's voice was gentle, carrying a hint of genuine concern. But to Draco's traumatized ears, it sounded exactly like the fatal hiss of a venomous viper.
Draco glanced around wildly, his eyes landing on the colossal, mutilated corpse of the Basilisk. He shuddered violently. "Is... is that..."
"The legendary monster of the Chamber of Secrets," Maurise stated matter-of-factly. "It suffered a rather gruesome end, wouldn't you say?"
His tone was breezy and light, but cold sweat poured down Draco's back.
Gruesome? Of course it was gruesome. Anyone looking at that unrecognizable pile of shredded snake meat could easily imagine the sheer, unadulterated violence it had endured before dying. And the person responsible for that violence was highly likely the smiling boy standing right in front of him.
"You... you killed it?" Draco stammered, his voice shaking uncontrollably.
"I suppose I did," Maurise nodded lightly. "But of course, I am not the type to hog all the glory. After all, this was our joint expedition! Hmm... how about this? I will tell everyone that we heroically teamed up to slay the monster together. What do you say, Malfoy?"
Draco swallowed a heavy lump in his throat.
'Teamed up?' What kind of sick joke was this? He felt absolutely zero honor, only a bone-deep, paralyzing chill. If that rumor spread, how would the fanatic pureblood Slytherins treat him?
"No, absolutely not!" Draco practically shrieked. "You cannot do that."
"Then I suppose you will have to keep this entire night a secret for me," Maurise said with a bright, winning smile. "Oh, right. I almost forgot to mention. Lord Voldemort got a very good look at your face. I am fairly certain he considers you an active participant in thwarting his grand, evil master plan. If he ever manages to return from the dead, you had better watch your back."
Draco nearly fainted a second time.
"Let us get going. It is time to head back."
Maurise completely ignored the boy's internal crisis and set off toward the entrance with a brisk, cheerful step. Draco stumbled frantically after him.
In truth, Maurise had already confirmed with Tom that the main soul of Voldemort shared no telepathic link with this isolated fragment. Unless Tom proactively informed him, the main Voldemort would have absolutely no idea what had transpired here tonight.
The two boys trekked back through the dark stone tunnel. Draco was a nervous wreck, his steps unsteady as he constantly checked over his shoulder. Maurise, on the other hand, looked entirely relaxed, even letting out a small, tired yawn.
After back-to-back spellcasting and a heavy boss fight, he just wanted a good night's sleep. He could return to harvest the Basilisk corpse whenever he pleased. There was no rush.
After a long walk, they finally reached the vertical pipe entrance.
"How exactly are we supposed to get back up?" Draco asked instinctively. Climbing a sheer, slimy pipe of that length was physically impossible.
Maurise reached out and clamped a hand firmly onto Draco's shoulder. Draco yelped and flinched violently, instinctively trying to jump away.
"What are you doing?"
"Relax, Malfoy," Maurise said smoothly. "I am just giving you a lift. Do not move a muscle, or I will drop you, and you can live down here forever."
Draco obediently froze in place. He fully understood his current, highly precarious situation.
Maurise instantly activated his shadow concealment. The two boys melted into the darkness, rapidly ascending the interior of the pipe.
It was an incredibly long vertical journey. Even with Maurise's profound mastery of the spell, carrying another human over such a vast distance using shadow magic was incredibly taxing. He was beginning to deeply regret bringing Malfoy along as his little vanguard.
After an indeterminate amount of time...
"We have arrived," Maurise whispered.
A second later, the two materialized safely inside the second-floor girls' lavatory.
Feeling the damp stone tiles beneath his boots, Malfoy gasped greedily for air. Traveling through the suffocating shadows for that long had nearly asphyxiated him.
Maurise also let out a soft exhale. He glanced at Draco's sickly pale face and waved his hand dismissively. "Alright, Malfoy. You are dismissed. Run along back to your dormitory. And remember, I expect you to keep your mouth completely shut about today's events."
Draco scrambled upright. Without daring to look at Maurise a second time, he kept his head down and bolted out the bathroom door like a terrified rabbit.
Watching the boy flee for his life, Maurise let out a soft chuckle.
'How pathetic.'
'But I have to admit, that was incredibly satisfying. Haha.'
---
Maurise smoothed out his robes and released the skeletal wolf from his array.
"Tom," he asked, "is it possible for me to learn Parseltongue?"
The red light in the skeletal wolf's eye sockets flickered. "Theoretically, no, Master. Parseltongue is a highly specific, bloodline-inherited magical trait. It cannot typically be acquired through study. However, the Parselmouth language itself can be phonetically memorized and spoken."
Maurise looked at the central sink with renewed interest. "Teach me the language, Tom. Right here, right now. I want to see if I can open this passage myself."
The skeletal wolf bowed its skull respectfully. "As you command, Master."
For the next fifteen minutes, Maurise stood in the lavatory, repeatedly practicing his hisses and spits under Tom's strict tutelage. Although Tom assured him his pronunciation was flawless and entirely devoid of any human accent, the Chamber entrance flat-out refused to budge.
What a pity.
Just as Maurise was preparing to adjust his pitch and try again, Moaning Myrtle burst out of her stall.
"How long are you going to stand there making those awful noises?!" she wailed miserably. "I have had enough! I need some peace and quiet! You are making such a racket I cannot even focus on being properly depressed!"
"My apologies."
Myrtle huffed angrily and swept her ghostly hand through the air. Every single tap in the lavatory blasted open simultaneously, creating a deafening roar of rushing water.
She was blatantly kicking him out.
It was getting far too late anyway. He would just have to come back and try again another time.
Maurise wisely retreated into the corridor, pulling the heavy wooden door shut behind him, completely cutting off the roaring water and Myrtle's endless complaining.
And then...
"Maurise?" a familiar voice called out from the far end of the corridor.
Who on earth was wandering around at this ungodly hour?
Maurise turned around, only to find himself face-to-face with Albus Dumbledore. What a massive coincidence.
"What exactly are you doing here?" Dumbledore closed the distance with long, purposeful strides, his expression unusually stern.
Maurise blinked innocently. "Would you believe me if I told you I just needed to use the restroom?"
Dumbledore's gaze flicked to the sign on the door right next to Maurise. He let out a heavy sigh. "That is the girls' lavatory, Maurise."
Maurise puffed out his chest indignantly. "How dare you assume my gender, Professor."
Dumbledore's mouth twitched violently. His stern, Headmasterly facade nearly cracked.
Realizing a crucial detail, Maurise quickly flipped the script. "Wait a moment, Professor. What exactly are you doing here?"
He clearly remembered that Dumbledore had been officially suspended by the board of governors. He wasn't supposed to be wandering the castle at all.
"I discovered Professor Lockhart lying unconscious in a corridor not far from here. I was simply investigating the surrounding area."
Lockhart?
Maurise was slightly puzzled. What did an unconscious Lockhart have to do with the second-floor girls' lavatory?