91: Chapter 91 The First Night of School: A Test

"Basilisk? Are you sure?"

Allen closed the bed curtains, his fingertips gripping his blackthorn wand.

Inside the Portable Space, Peter lay on the edge of the cage, his severed finger pressed against the space wall.

"I'm sure. Master talked about the Chamber of Secrets, a monster left behind by Salazar Slytherin that can only be commanded by a Parseltongue."

"Looking directly at it means death; seeing it through a reflection results in petrification."

"Don't touch that door, I beg you."

The Void hovered beside the ebony box, its silver eyes fixed on the golden patterns on the north side.

The cracked pocket watch was no longer glowing, but the residual golden threads on its edges were still trembling.

Allen spread out a piece of parchment.

"Entrance."

Peter swallowed hard.

"The second-floor Girls Bathroom. The crying ghost is there, and the door is near the sinks."

"Controller."

"The diary."

Peter immediately shut his mouth, then added a sentence under the gaze of the Void.

"It's something left behind by Tom Riddle during his student days. The Malfoy Family once kept an old item of Master's."

The quill fell.

Basilisk.

Pipes.

Second-floor Girls Bathroom entrance.

diary controller.

Ginny Weasley.

Indirect sight can save one's life.

Peter pressed against the cage and pleaded.

"You already know. Let me go, don't make me go near the Chamber of Secrets."

Allen looked up.

"Are you afraid of snakes?"

Peter looked at the Void, his face pressed to the ground.

"I'm afraid of snakes that eat people."

"Not much difference."

The silence spell closed in; only Peter was left opening his mouth soundlessly inside the cage.

The bed curtains were tapped twice.

Draco stood outside, clutching a silver-green tie in his hand.

"Are you dead asleep? The corridor was such a mess earlier, didn't you react at all?"

Allen pulled back the bed curtains.

"Did Filch catch anyone?"

"No."

Nott handed over a note from behind Draco.

"The upperclassmen say the wall in the second-floor corridor was damp. Someone wrote words with water, and they disappeared before drying. There was no blood, and no complete writing."

Allen scanned the note.

"The door was tested."

Draco turned pale.

"What door?"

Nott finished the sentence for him.

"The Chamber of Secrets?"

Draco wanted to mention his father but swallowed the words back.

Allen returned the note to Nott.

"Starting tomorrow, everyone stay away from the second-floor Girls Bathroom."

"Don't ask, don't look, don't bring anyone there."

Draco gripped the tie tightly.

"If that thing really has something to do with my father..."

"Your father wouldn't send you the instruction manual."

Allen leaned back against his pillow.

"What you should do now is stay away from me in public."

Draco gritted his teeth.

"I know."

"Knowing and doing are two different things."

Crabbe poked his head out from behind the bed curtains.

"Are we still sitting together for breakfast tomorrow?"

Goyle thought about it seriously.

"We can sit further away and still eat our fill."

Draco pressed his temples.

Allen closed his eyes.

"In Potion Class tomorrow, Snape will give me trouble. Don't chime in."

Draco looked over immediately.

"Why?"

"He didn't finish asking last year."

Nott put away the note.

"The night of the Philosopher's Stone?"

The dormitory went quiet.

Draco looked at Allen, his eyes full of tension.

He had personally provided the alibi for that night.

Allen only spat out two words.

"Sleep."

Draco lowered the bed curtains.

"Every time you say sleep, someone is bound to have bad luck."

"Listen to your father, stay away from me."

"Shut up, Potter."

The next morning, in the Slytherin Common Room, the first-years kept looking toward the armchair.

Allen was slumped over the back of the chair, his eyelids half-drooped.

Nott placed the class schedule by his hand.

"First period, Potion Class, with Gryffindor."

Draco asked.

"What are you smiling at?"

"It's a good time for something to happen."

The Potion Class classroom was bitingly cold.

Snape stood before the podium, his black robes hanging down. He first mocked the Gryffindor summer homework, then turned his gaze to the back row of Slytherin.

"Today we are learning the Shrinking Solution."

"If anyone thinks that brewing potions only requires throwing ingredients into a cauldron and praying to the flames, I suggest they switch to Divination Class; at least there, failure can still be called inspiration."

Ron was about to mutter something, but Hermione nudged him with her elbow.

Harry lowered his head to flip through his book, occasionally looking at Allen, the confusion from the night of the Philosopher's Stone still lingering in his eyes.

Allen was processing daisy roots; the blade fell slowly, and each piece varied slightly in length.

He looked just like a sleepy, average student.

Snape walked up to him.

"Mr. Potter."

Both houses looked up at the same time.

Draco sat diagonally behind him, his silver knife paused on the cutting board.

Snape leaned down, looking at the changing color of the potion in the cauldron.

"Your heat control is not bad."

Allen looked up.

"Thank you, Professor."

"I haven't complimented you yet."

Snape's black eyes locked onto the cauldron.

"The surface temperature is too low, the bottom temperature is too high, and the cuts of the ingredients look uneven, but in reality, not a single piece affects the efficacy of the potion."

"The result will barely pass, but it won't be low enough to attract attention."

Pansy's spoon hit the edge of her cauldron.

Draco gripped his silver knife.

Nott continued to stir.

Snape straightened up.

"Intentional failure is more boring than real failure."

Allen put down his stirring rod.

"Professor, I didn't sleep well last night."

"You slept for a whole year last year."

"So this year I'm in debt."

Someone on the Gryffindor side stifled a laugh.

Snape swept his gaze over, and the classroom immediately went quiet.

He looked at Allen again.

"Stay after class."

The potion swirled three times and stopped at a light green—barely passing.

The bell rang, and the students quickly packed up their things.

Harry looked back before leaving, only to be pulled away by Ron.

Hermione's gaze lingered between Allen and Snape for a moment.

Draco deliberately slowed down his movements.

Snape spoke up.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you need me to teach you how to leave the classroom?"

Draco had no choice but to leave.

Before the door closed, he mouthed a reminder to Allen not to say anything reckless.

The classroom was left with only the residual heat of the cauldrons and the smell of herbs.

Snape waved his wand to close the door.

"The night of the Philosopher's Stone, where were you?"

Allen held an empty potion vial.

"Slytherin Dungeon."

"Who can prove it?"

"Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle."

"It wouldn't be hard for them to lie for you."

"Professor can ask the portraits."

"Do portraits fall asleep?"

"Maybe they watched me sleep and got sleepy themselves."

Snape took a step forward, his black robes stirring up a cold breeze.

"Don't try to fool me with student tricks."

"Harry Potter's memory was tampered with, the stone chamber before Quirrell died was cleaned too thoroughly, and Dumbledore couldn't find a third person."

"You are named Potter, and you are always sleeping on the edge of trouble."

Allen did not back down.

"Does the Professor think I killed Quirrell?"

"I think you know things you shouldn't know and have touched things you shouldn't have."

"The most dangerous thing I've touched was probably the leech spleen in the Shrinking Solution."

Snape leaned down, his nose almost touching Allen's.

"Don't touch things you shouldn't, Potter."

"Especially this year."

Allen looked up.

"What's happening this year?"

Snape stared at him for several seconds, then turned and waved the door open.

"Get out."

"The potion barely passed; no points for Slytherin."

Allen walked to the door.

Snape's voice pursued him from behind.

"Also, don't think that a blank space is safe."

"Some blank spaces are evidence in themselves."

Allen turned his head.

"Professor, if a cauldron is washed too clean, maybe it's just because the last student was afraid of losing points."

He finished speaking and left.

The Dungeon corridor was cold and empty.

Draco, Nott, and Zabini were waiting at the corner.

Draco asked immediately.

"What did he ask?"

"He asked why my cauldron was washed so clean."

Zabini looked at him.

"You'd better not treat Snape like a fool."

Allen walked forward.

"I never underestimate people who can brew potions."

Nott caught up and handed over a new note.

"News just came from the second floor."

"Moaning Myrtle didn't leave the bathroom this morning. A first-year girl said she heard the sound of page-turning from inside."

Allen stopped.

Draco's expression changed.

"Ginny?"

"Can't confirm yet."

Nott looked at him.

"But Hermione has also been to the second floor."

Allen took the note, his fingertips pressing on the words "sound of page-turning".

Inside the Portable Space, the Void looked up, its silver eyes once again fixed on the golden patterns on the north side.

Deep within the Castle, that massive breath sank down.

The first breath before waking up was already close to the pipes.