Chapter 109: Chamber of Secrets
They slowly walked toward the abandoned girls' bathroom on the first floor of the dungeon. The place was eerily quiet.
It was quite late now—even the Slytherins who frequented the lower floors were likely tucked away in their dormitories.
Moaning Myrtle wasn't around crying either, which made the atmosphere feel even more unsettling.
They stepped inside. With no light in the room, Harry and Draco appeared visibly nervous.
Noah, however, showed no concern. His attention was fixed on the massive washbasin at the far end. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he began analyzing.
Opening the Chamber of Secrets wasn't a problem—he already knew how. All he had to do was find the sink with the snake engraving and have Harry speak in Parseltongue.
What Noah was pondering was what lay inside.
To be honest, he'd just remembered something important—the reason young Tom Riddle had appeared here in the first place was due to the diary.
Noah wasn't sure if Ginny had already discarded it, was still carrying it, or if it was inside the Chamber.
Of course, he hoped she still had it on her.
That would save some unnecessary trouble, wouldn't it?
Although Noah wasn't afraid of complications, he, like anyone else, preferred to avoid them when possible.
"What's wrong, Noah? What are you thinking about?" Harry asked, a little anxious upon seeing Noah staring silently at the sink.
"Ah? Oh, nothing," Noah replied, snapping back to reality. He pointed at the washbasin and said, "I believe the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is here."
"The entrance? Here?" Draco muttered, swallowing nervously as he looked at the massive sink. He had no idea how Noah had figured it out.
Noah rolled his eyes and didn't bother to explain. He turned to Harry. "Parseltongue. Just say something. Any simple command should work."
"I'll try," Harry nodded. He trusted Noah without hesitation.
As Harry approached the sink, he spotted a snake-shaped engraving on one of the faucets.
He assumed Noah had deduced it from that. Ironically, Noah hadn't noticed it at all.
What Noah had been surprised by—when watching the movie, of course—was the idea of a faucet existing over a thousand years ago.
Still, before he could even scoff, Harry uttered a few words in Parseltongue, and the sink began to transform. Noah watched, speechless.
But it didn't matter. All that mattered was confirming the entrance was real. He wasn't interested in the details.
Why overthink it? Just act when it's time to act.
As Harry finished speaking, the sink vibrated. The entire structure began to shift—parts slid aside in perfect mechanical harmony. Slowly, a deep, dark tunnel appeared where the sink had been.
"This... this is the entrance?" Draco's voice trembled as he leaned over to peek into the abyss.
"Obviously," Noah replied. Then he turned to Draco with a blank stare. "Mr. Malfoy, shouldn't you be reporting this to Professor Snape?"
"Can I come with you?" Draco asked quickly. He clearly didn't want to leave.
"You're looking for Salazar Slytherin's treasure?" Harry said coldly. He still didn't trust Draco—especially not his attitude.
"No! I just..." Draco paused.
"Just what?"
"I'm sorry, Noah, Harry. Please believe me—I'm not after any treasure. I just... I think someone else might have already been here. I want to see for myself. My head's all over the place right now. I need clarity."
Draco looked pale—more so than usual. Maybe he was frightened. Maybe he was seriously confused.
Noah couldn't tell what Draco was trying to figure out.
But he could tell Draco wasn't lying. His face was sincere, filled with inner turmoil.
It was an expression Noah remembered well—the same look Draco had worn in the movies, after he had joined the Death Eaters. That mix of hesitation, fear, and helplessness.
Could it be... was Draco actually reconsidering everything he believed?
To be honest, Noah always thought Voldemort's reign wouldn't last long after his return. Even without today's enhanced magical circumstances, he'd still fall quickly.
After all, the Wizarding World wasn't limited to Britain. There were countless powerful wizards across the globe.
Frankly speaking, much of what the British Ministry of Magic supported amounted to pureblood supremacy. The first ones to oppose such ideology would undoubtedly be the American Magical Congress.
Unlike the UK, the United States was a nation of immigrants. Most of their magical population were half-bloods or Muggle-borns.
A tiny, isolated magical community like Britain trying to enforce blood purity on the global stage? That was laughable.
Even if Harry and the others failed, it wouldn't be long before MACUSA united with other ministries around the world to crush Voldemort.
And now? Voldemort wasn't even close to the top of the power hierarchy.
There were countless unknown wizards stronger than him—some on a cosmic scale. Even beings like the Ancient One, the Sorcerer Supreme, protected the Earth.
Compared to that? Voldemort was just an ant.
Noah's power—as a Muggle-born wizard—was also a key part of Draco's confusion and inner struggle.
That was why Draco looked so tormented, conflicted, and unsure.
"Fine. Follow me if you want," Noah said finally, turning to the dark tunnel. "But let me make this clear: if anything happens and I can't protect you, you're on your own. You understand the risks."
"I do," Draco nodded quickly, swallowing hard. "I'm ready."
Noah didn't reply. He stood at the edge of the entrance, pointed his wand at himself, and cast a Feather-Fall Charm.
Then he leapt down.
Harry and Draco followed, casting the same spell before jumping.
They landed gently along a long, stone pipe that spiraled downward like a coiled serpent. Eventually, they reached an open area.
Remarkably, they were still clean—unlike when Harry and Ron had been covered in muck after dragging Lockhart down here.
But then came the stench.
They wrinkled their noses as the foul air hit them, and when they glanced down, their horror intensified—bones were scattered all across the ground.
"How much did that thing eat?" Draco gasped, his hand over his nose.
"You think snake dens smell like roses? Or that snakes are elegant creatures?" Noah scoffed. "Use your brain. Snakes are bad omens. Always have been."
Though Draco was annoyed by Noah's words, he dared not reply. Not here. Not now.
He quietly followed, careful not to provoke this dangerous person.
"Oh my God—what is that?" Harry cried suddenly, pointing ahead.
It looked like the shriveled remains of a massive serpent.
"Relax. It's just shed skin," Noah replied calmly. "Snakes do that all the time. Too bad it didn't go out while shedding. Maybe fewer people would've been petrified."
He raised his wand. A fireball with a faint golden hue appeared and struck the dried skin, burning it away. Oddly enough, the scent of smoke was more tolerable than the previous foul air.
"Why do you say that?" Harry asked. "What's shedding got to do with the petrifications?"
"Normal snakes become inactive during molting—they go blind. But not basilisks. Especially one that's been sleeping for fifty years," Noah explained. "If it had gone blind, fewer people would've been harmed."
Draco and Harry nodded, realization dawning.
They walked a bit further until they reached a massive stone wall. Embedded in it was a large, circular iron door—rusted but still firm, with intertwined serpentine carvings.
Noah said nothing.
Harry stepped forward and spoke in Parseltongue.
The snakes on the door moved. They slithered and twisted until they formed a strange pattern.
Then, with a heavy creak, the door slowly opened.
Fresh air flowed outward.
Noah smiled slightly.
They had arrived.
This… was the true Chamber of Secrets.
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