At eight o’clock that evening, Harry arrived outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts office for detention.
Ron had been furious when he learned that Harry’s punishment involved copying manuscripts for Professor Cromwell while he had been assigned to polish trophies under Filch’s supervision.
“Professor Cromwell, I’m here.” Harry knocked before stepping inside and glanced around with curiosity.
The office had been furnished simply but comfortably.
Several spheres of soft magical light drifted freely through the air, and the ceiling displayed an enchanted night sky inspired by the Great Hall.
Behind the desk, Leon Cromwell directed several translucent, faceless [Unseen Servants] as they organized towering stacks of parchment.
“Good evening, Mr.
Potter.” Leon did not look up from the document he was writing.
“Take a seat.
Your detention is straightforward.
I need you to copy this manuscript.” Harry released a quiet breath of relief.
Compared to polishing hundreds of trophies beside an irritable caretaker, copying a book seemed almost pleasant.
He sat at the nearby table and examined the first page.
On the Awakening of Innate Magic: The Origins of Sorcerers “A Sorcerer?” Harry asked as he dipped his quill into the ink.
“Professor, can anyone gain one of those classes, like Hagrid did?” Leon placed his quill aside and lifted the glass of dark, bubbling liquid beside him.
Harry immediately recognized it as Coca-Cola, which made the professor seem slightly less mysterious.
“Are you interested in choosing your own class?” Harry scratched the back of his head.
Ever since witnessing Hagrid cast [Goodberry] without a wand, he and Ron had spent most of the night discussing Professor Cromwell’s theories about talents and combat roles.
“I have been thinking about it,” Harry admitted.
“I thought I might make a good Fighter.
You said Gryffindor used a sword, and I’m fairly good at… what did you call it?
Physical negotiation?” “A Fighter?” Leon gave him a faintly amused look.
“Because you possess enough courage to stand on the front line?” “Maybe a Rogue instead,” Harry added quickly.
“I have an Invisibility Cloak, and I’m good at sneaking through the castle without Filch noticing.
That counts as stealth, doesn’t it?” “Both ideas have some merit, but neither is ideal.” Leon leaned back in his chair.
“Fighters normally require exceptional Strength and Constitution.
Would you describe yourself as physically powerful or unusually durable?” Harry shook his head.
“Crabbe and Goyle might have the necessary build, but you do not.
As for the Rogue, your high Dexterity would certainly help.
I’ve also heard that you became the youngest Seeker Gryffindor has had in a century.” Harry nodded, waiting eagerly for Leon’s conclusion.
“You could become a capable Rogue,” Leon continued, “but I believe another class suits you far better.” He pointed toward the manuscript Harry had begun copying.
“A Sorcerer.” Harry looked uncertain.
“But Professor, I’m not nearly as talented at magic as Hermione.” “That is a common misunderstanding, Mr.
Potter.
A Sorcerer and a Wizard are not the same.” Leon folded his hands on the desk.
“Wizards gain power through disciplined study, research, and preparation.
Miss Granger is perfectly suited to that path.
Sorcerers rely upon magic already present within their bloodline or soul.
To them, spellcasting is closer to instinct than academic knowledge.” He studied Harry carefully.
“You grew up in a Muggle household, yet I suspect you performed magic many times before learning what a wand was.” Harry lowered his head as old memories surfaced.
His hair had regrown overnight whenever Aunt Petunia cut it.
He had somehow ended up on a school roof while fleeing Dudley’s gang.
Then there had been the vanishing glass at the zoo.
“Yes,” he admitted quietly.
“Several times.” “Your natural magical ability is considerable, Harry.
Your weakness is that you are unlikely to spend years sitting behind a desk analyzing every detail of arcane theory.” Harry could not argue with that.
“You learn through action,” Leon continued.
“Danger, experience, and strong emotion draw out your abilities.
Rather than constructing every spell through careful study, you need to discover the power already inside you.” He tapped the manuscript.
“That is why I believe Sorcerer is the class best suited to you.” “Sorcerer…” Harry repeated the word as excitement stirred in his chest.
“But how would I awaken—” Before he could finish, a cold, breathless voice slithered into his ears.
“Come… come to me…” Harry stiffened.
“Let me tear you… rip you apart… kill you…” He jumped so violently that his quill dragged across the parchment, leaving a large stain of ink.
“What was that?” Leon immediately sensed something oppressive moving through the castle.
The sensation reminded him of the hostile creatures he had encountered in Albania, but all he heard was a faint series of hisses echoing through the walls.
“Professor,” Harry said urgently, “did you hear that voice?” Leon’s expression became serious.
If his memory of Harry Potter’s second year was correct, the creature moving through the castle was the basilisk hidden inside the Chamber of Secrets.
Even as an eleventh-level Wizard with access to sixth-circle spells, Leon had no intention of underestimating it.
A basilisk’s gaze could kill instantly, making its conceptual ability every bit as dangerous as the Killing Curse.
Unfortunately, Leon could not understand the creature.
[Speak with Animals] was available to Druids and certain Bards, but not to a Wizard of his current build.
“What did the voice say?” Harry swallowed.
“It said it wanted to tear me apart and kill me.” Leon adjusted his glasses.
Parseltongue was an extraordinarily useful trait.
“Your detention is over, Potter.” Harry stared at him.
“What?” “Return to Gryffindor Tower immediately.” Leon rose and moved toward the door, drawing his wand as he walked.
“Do not wander through the corridors, and under no circumstances should you search for that voice.” “But it said it was going to kill someone,” Harry protested.
“We have to do something.” “This is not a threat you are prepared to face.” Leon opened the door and looked back at him.
His usual easygoing manner had vanished, replaced by a cold authority that made Harry instinctively straighten.
“Remember what I told you.
Sorcerers rely on instinct, but the ones who survive also use their judgment.” His voice hardened.
“Go back to your dormitory.
That is an order.” A moment later, Leon became a dark blur and vanished into the dim corridor.
Harry remained in the office, listening as the terrible whisper faded deeper into the walls.
Every instinct urged him to investigate, but Professor Cromwell’s reaction had unsettled him.
If someone as powerful as Leon considered the creature dangerous, then following it alone would be reckless.
Harry clenched his fists, turned around, and hurried toward Gryffindor Tower.
Leon raced through the darkened corridors on the other side of the castle.
Although he could not communicate with the basilisk, he could still locate it.
The fourth-circle spell [Locate Creature] allowed him to track a known creature within a limited range, provided nothing blocked the divination.
He cast [Longstrider] on himself, increasing his speed, then focused on the basilisk’s presence.
A faint outline appeared within the walls.
“Pipes,” Leon muttered as he followed its movement.
“Of course it’s using the plumbing.” Hogwarts possessed an enormous network of ancient pipes, many of which twisted through sections of the castle that no longer appeared on modern floor plans.
Tracking one creature through such a system was far more difficult than Leon expected.
He followed the magical signal until it descended toward the second floor.
The basilisk’s presence eventually vanished near the abandoned girls’ bathroom.
Leon stopped outside the corridor instead of rushing inside.
He was cautious by nature and had survived ten years in Albania precisely because he never confronted an unknown creature without preparation.
Until he understood the basilisk’s abilities, resistances, and weaknesses, entering its lair would be needlessly dangerous.
“It didn’t attack anyone,” Leon murmured as he studied the empty passage.
“It only came out to look around.” He pushed his glasses higher, and cold light reflected across the lenses.
“It seems I need to make preparations.” [Chapter Rewards]