Harry Potter 7: "The Chamber"

'Hermione, I know this was my idea in the first place and everything, but do you realise that neither of us speak Parslemouth?' Ron said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (which, for him, it was).

'Actually, that's the thing. I believe that you can, if you tried really hard.'

'What?' Asked Ron incredulously, shifting the broomstick he was holding in his hand to under his arm.

'What I mean is, it was quite a traumatic experience, with Ginny being dragged down to the chamber and all… Generally, people remember their bad times vividly, well, more than their good experiences. Mainly because of dreams. I have no doubt you have had nightmares about it.'

'Me?'

'Yes, you, Ronald. I bet if you concentrated really hard, you could remember exactly how Harry sounded. This will hopefully give you the ability to imitate him.'

Ron was silent. He had gone pale. They had reached Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For once, it was not flooded.

'Have you told anyone that we came here?' Asked Hermione vaguely.

'Um… I think I mentioned it to Ginny, but I don't think she was really listening…'

Hermione was barely listening either, instead examining the sinks, or more precisely, the taps.

'Here we are. Now Ron, concentrate. I know you can do this.'

After a minute or two, Ron had composed himself. 'Saaaath…. Seeeth.' He tried hopefully. Nothing happened. It was disappointing, since Ron knew that Hermione would be thoroughly impressed with him if he got it on the first try.

'Come on, Ron,' she said quietly, lightly touching his arm. 'You can do it.'

10 agonising minutes and several tries later, he had done it. The sink was lowered into the floor and the metal bars covering the huge hole slid away.

'Dammit.' Ron groaned. 'Every time. Every time I swear not to go back somewhere, I always end up there. Always.'

Hermione giggled. 'Well, I'm actually sorry now, to say that I think you should go first, you know.'

Ron's jaw dropped. 'Why me?'

'Oh, Ron! Isn't it obvious? Because you have been here before. If it's any comfort, we know there isn't anything that is big, frightening and going to kill you, either. Well, except for the basilisk, who is dead already. But I wouldn't make you go down there if there was. So, we have nothing to worry about.'

'Big comfort.' Ron muttered, though not loud enough for Hermione to hear.

He stepped up to the edge of the pipe. It was just as scary as he remembered it. He swallowed, took a deep breath and plunged into what he had once imagined as a never-ending pit. He was immediately swallowed by the darkness.

He hardly had time to yell before a few seconds later he was spat back out into the light – darker than in the bathroom - like a human bullet, landing sprawled on a blanket of hard bones. The broom flew out of his hand, landing a fair meter away.

He hardly landed when he heard a momentary scream and a thump. He groaned. Judging by the weight that had crashed directly on top of him, he guessed Hermione had just slid out of the pipe on top of him, with almost crushing impact.

'Ow… Oh, I'm sorry, Ron…"

Hermione slowly got up, releasing Ron so that he was able to move again. She dusted herself off, and glanced around.

'Not a very pleasant place to live, is it?' She asked, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

'Exactly what Lockhart said.' Ron told her. He blushed. Hermione had gotten far too close. Fortunately Hermione did not notice this act, as she was examining the cave. He stood up. He walked over and picked up his broomstick leaning it against the wall of the tunnel. 'For later. We're going to have to get back up the pipe, somehow.' He reasoned.

'Well,' Hermione said, gesturing forward. 'Shall we continue?'

'We might as well, since we're already down here.'

They walked on slowly a little way. Ron and Hermione senses had sharpened. They could now evidently hear every crunch of every bone they stood on, and the volume of every breath they took seemed to be magnified by ten.

Ron was careful not to look at Hermione, with fear of blushing again. Then he noticed something.

'This is it. This is where I got up to. This is where the tunnel caved in.'

He pointed towards a huge amount of rubble blocking the way. That is, it would have been blocking the way if it had not been for the somewhat hand-crafted hole Ron had put in it, just big enough to fit one thin person at a time.

'Nice work.' Hermione grinned.

'Thanks. Well, we're both novices now. If only we had Harry…'

'If only. I wonder what he's doing. I hope he isn't hurt.'

They both pondered this statement as they carefully climbed the mountain of rocks, getting a few inevitable bruises and tears in their clothes. One they were safely on the other side, they continued on.

After a while, they reached another obstacle. A round stone door, with patterns of (also stone) 5 snakes, which were spread around the outer part of the door.

Nothing a now well practiced Ron couldn't handle. He hissed at the door. If anyone would have been able to see him other than Hermione, they would have thought him mad.

Nevertheless, it worked. A sixth snake came into view and slithered around the edge of the door, releasing each snake (which were locks), one by one as it went.

They were in. The sound of the door opening echoed loudly in the huge chamber, which was even more dimly lit by candle light.

The first thing that hit the duo – quite abruptly - when they stepped inside the final chamber, was the smell. The smell of decaying meat. Not pleasant.

'This stinks.' Ron said, waving a hand in front of his face. Even he was not able to ignore the smell.

'Metaphorically or literally?' Asked Hermione, who was holding her nose.

'Both!'

They laughed. For ages. They couldn't stop. It wasn't even really laughing. It was more an outburst of emotion. To vent their fear, so to speak.

Eventually, they regained control of themselves. 'That was a pretty funny joke.' Said Ron lamely, regaining his breath. He was making a desperate attempt trying to compliment Hermione.

Hermione snorted. Something you didn't hear very often. 'No, it wasn't. But thank you anyway.'

The second thing they noticed, once they had stopped acting like they had stopped acting like they had walked into a room (or chamber) full of laughing gas, was the huge scaly body that was unmoving at the other end of the chamber, below a smashed and almost unrecognisable replica of Salazar Slytherin's head.

When they got close enough for a close look, both considered it truly disgusting.

The face and upper body of the Basilisk was caked in dried blood, which, they could see, had streamed out of its eyes and mouth. All over the deceased body, patches of skeleton showed, with bits of meat noticeably hanging of the bones. Revolting.

Hermione quickly cast a spell 'Levante Olor!' to purge the smell, and then started ripping out some of the Basilisk's fangs, while Ron walked around, examining the snake's face.

He whistled.

'Wow, Harry really did a good job. Look at its face! It's demented!'

'Apparently, it wasn't all Harry's doing.' Hermione said, while she continued mercilessly ripping out the fangs. The sound was terrible.

'Faux pecked its eyes until they were closed permanently. That was why Harry had an advantage. That way he couldn't just die on the spot.'

'Yeah, like he couldn't handle that.' Ron said, bemused as he checked inside the mouth of the Basilisk.

Immediately he knew that was the wrong thing to say. Before he knew it, Hermione was on his case, balling up some of the front of his shirt in his hand, looking viciously in to his eyes. She was very tense. Must be the situation.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

' Well, jeez Hermione, I just… He's survived death before, that's all. Who's to say he won't do it again? And don't you reckon he was being a bit too modest about this? I mean, look at this! He practically destroyed a dirty great snake, single handedly, without a wand! Few other people could do that, including wizards! Look at the state of it!'

Said snake was lying on the floor of the chamber, covered in what looked like dirty water, ink, dried blood, and now, new flowing blood, due to the fact that Hermione had succeeded in detaching a dozen slimy fangs, 11 of which were lying on the ground in a pile. One was clutched in her free hand.

'Oh. Yes.' She said, letting go of his shirt and looking down at her shoes, which were covered in Merlins knows what.

Ron couldn't resist. She was so close, it just seemed right.

He placed his index finger under her chin, and pushed up lightly, so that she looked him in the face. He had a sparkle in his eye and a grin tugging at his lips. Something Hermione couldn't distinguish.

'Did I ever tell you how beautiful you looked in candlelight?' He whispered to her, releasing his finger from underneath her chin, instead running it softy down her cheek. Just once.

Hermione blushed and stepped forward. He could now see everything: The lust and determination in her deep brown eyes, the radiant glow of her skin, the creases in her delicate face, the small locks of hair that flittered her forehead. He reached up and brushed them away.

There were two things - though he did not know why – Ron loved about her face most. One was her eyelashes, which he had thought to be black but now realised, with the reflection of the light, were actually black with a soft touch of brown. They curled perfectly, he could see, complimenting her eyes fantastically.

The other, was her lips. Full and plump, with stunningly vivid colour and luscious grooves in them too, he noted.

After about half a minute of studying her features, he leaned forward. She closed her eyes and laced her arms around her neck, pulling him ever closer.

He lifted a hand and stroked her hair, snaking the other one around her waist. Their lips almost in contact, he shut his eyes…

Clunk

The sound made them jump apart, each as though they had received an electric shock. It took a moment to locate what had made the sound. Hermione had accidently dropped the fang she was holding.

Then they remembered where they were, what they were (supposed to be) doing, and how much time they had. Reality.

After spending what seemed like an eternity just staring at each other, they each busied oneself with gathering up the Basilisk fangs. Then they hurried out of the Chamber of Secrets, preparing for battle.

Not a word was spoken.