Chapter 300: Alchemical Toad

The rainy night passed with a steady patter of drops.

Near lunchtime, Xiang Xiang Xien saw Harry and Ron return in the Great Hall.

I thought the weekend would bring only good news… I didn’t expect I’d have to help Filch polish the trophies in the display case.

Ron held a brand-new wand, his face grim despite what should have been a cause for joy,

“No magic—just scrubbing by hand!”

“I’d gladly swap with you anytime,”

Harry replied listlessly,

“I’ve done plenty of scrubbing and cleaning at the Dursleys’. But replying to Lockhart’s fans… that’s bound to be a nightmare…”

As they spoke, Xiang Xiang Xien listened quietly, as usual.

Consistent with his plan, Harry would soon hear the basilisk’s voice. At that moment, he would understand Parseltongue and gradually realize he was a Parselmouth.

“Your new invention?”

Hermione held up a toad-like object and asked Xiang Xiang Xien curiously.

It was a metallic alchemical creation, wearing oversized spectacles like an aviator.

“Mm.”

Xiang Xiang Xien replied.

Considering Xiang Xiang Xien was that… Hermione found nothing surprising about his inventions; her only curiosity was—what did this little thing do?

Xiang Xiang Xien pulled out the plan map, and the Alchemical Toad was marked with a distinctive symbol on it.

This marking was what distinguished the plan map from the Marauder’s Map.

On the Marauder’s Map, the Chamber of Secrets was not marked, which was why Ginny had suddenly appeared and vanished on it,

so Xiang Xiang Xien created an alchemical device and named it the Alchemical Toad.

It could replace living beings to test the efficacy of the magical refracting mirror; since the Alchemical Toad might be “inanimate,” Xiang Xiang Xien had also prepared some small beetles as backups.

After Harry discovered his Parselmouth ability, Xiang Xiang Xien could question him to gain entry to the Chamber.

Of course, the Alchemical Toad’s purpose extended beyond that.

It carried many things:

such as the buttons used on the plan map for positioning and sending messages; a paper airplane leading to the Headmaster’s office and other locations; some cookies capable of creating a major disturbance.

The Alchemical Toad was Xiang Xiang Xien’s final safeguard in his plan.

Should things spiral out of control, all seven Alchemical Toads would activate their final protocol:

delay the basilisk, summon Dumbledore.

As for why seven? Because there were seven paper airplanes.

Hopefully, they’d never reach that point…

The afternoon slipped away unnoticed, and before long it was five minutes to eight.

In the Hut on the Grounds, Harry dragged his feet reluctantly out of the warm room and walked down the third-floor corridor toward Lockhart’s office.

He gritted his teeth and knocked on the door.

The door opened immediately; Lockhart beamed at him.

Unnoticed by him, a black cat lingered in the shadowed corner.

“Ah, the little rascal’s arrived! Come in, Harry, come in.”

Lockhart said.

The office walls were hung with countless framed portraits of Lockhart, brightly lit by many candles.

Some even bore his autograph; a large stack of photographs sat on the desk.

“You can write the envelopes!”

Lockhart told Harry, as if this were a great favor,

“First one to Mrs. Gladys Gudgeon—God bless her—my fervent admirer.”

Time crawled like a snail. Harry let Lockhart prattle on, responding only occasionally with “Mm,” “Ah,” “Yes.”

The black cat trembled its whiskers behind an object.

The candles burned shorter and shorter; suddenly, the black cat’s ears twitched—he heard a sound, unlike the crackling of dying candles or the two men’s chatter.

The black cat turned its head and saw Harry startle; a large smudge of lavender ink had appeared before the street name on Veronica Smethwick’s address.

“What?”

Harry exclaimed.

“I know!”

Lockhart said,

“Six months straight at number one on the bestseller list! An unprecedented record!”

“No,”

Harry said frantically,

“That sound!”

“Sorry,”

Lockhart asked, confused,

“What sound?”

“That—that sound—it said—didn’t you hear it?”

Lockhart stared at Harry in utter astonishment.

“What are you talking about, Harry? You must be tired—good heavens, look at the time! We’ve been here nearly four hours! I can’t believe it—time flies, doesn’t it?”

Harry didn’t answer. He strained his ears for the sound, but it was gone—until someone stepped out from the corner.

“You heard it too, Harry?”

A reassuring voice spoke.

“Xiang Xiang Xien, how did you—”

Harry asked in surprise, then rushed on,

“You heard it too?”

Xiang Xiang Xien nodded.

“Oh my God, then you must know…”

Harry mimicked the sounds; he thought he was speaking English, but all that came out were hissing noises like a tongue pressing against the chin.

He was lost in the sound, unaware he was flicking his tongue like a serpent.

“How much did you hear?”

Xiang Xiang Xien asked.

“Sssss—”

Harry said.

“Hmm, how do you say ‘open’?”

Xiang Xiang Xien prompted.

“Sssss—”

Harry repeated uncertainly.

“Good, I understand. Take this.”

Xiang Xiang Xien noted it down and placed an Alchemical Toad in Harry’s hand,

“By the way, Harry, what you just said wasn’t English—it was more like… Parseltongue.”

The corridor was empty now; Harry carefully recalled what he had just said, and sweat broke out instantly.

…

The girls’ bathroom on the second floor.

Xiang Xiang Xien found the hidden entrance.

“Sssss (open)—”

He mimicked.

The next moment, the faucet emitted a brilliant white light and began spinning rapidly.

Then the sink moved; it slowly vanished from view, revealing a thick pipe large enough for a person to crawl through.

Five Alchemical Toads hopped eagerly inside.

The rainy night remained damp and windy.

Xiang Xiang Xien waited there, staring at the basilisk’s symbol, thinking quietly.

To ensure Hogwarts’ safety, he must complete his plan—subdue the basilisk, not kill it, and develop basilisk cookies.

It was foreseeable that no professor would approve his dangerous, outlandish plan.

Killing the basilisk wasn’t too difficult—a rooster cookie could do it; but subduing it, especially under Tom’s watch, was perilous enough.

The soul-split Voldemort had gone mad, but seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle remained the brooding, ambitious Heir of Slytherin.

“What are you doing?”

Moaning Myrtle opened the threshold curiously, only to see Xiang Xiang Xien stroking the round, glossy head of an Alchemical Toad.

The magical refracting mirror was viable—meaning Xiang Xiang Xien’s confrontation with the basilisk was imminent.

Lu adjusted some minor outlines today; readers will see two chapters when they wake up tomorrow.