The potion he’d taken wore off six hours after dosing, and Severus sat up with a swipe at his eyes. He felt slightly better—not that he’d admit anything of the sort to Poppy, of course—and with a snap of his fingers he summoned a house elf and ate a few pieces of toast while reviewing the notes from St. Mungo’s potions masters. He’d remembered to send off his own notes last night, but he’d completely forgotten about the ones they’d sent. How I managed that when they were setting right beside the cauldrons…. A quick flip-through confirmed most of his earlier opinions. He had no idea how the first had managed to pass his mastery; the man seemed to be throwing ingredients together at random with absolutely no thought as to the consequences. Severus fully expected him to become a patient in the Potion and Plant Poisoning Ward in the very near future. Or, possibly, Artifact Accidents if he doesn't cease attempting to mix things like dragon saliva and Chinese Chomping Cabbages. The second…no vision. Granted there were conventions to observe when dealing with a new substance, but this gentleman took methodic behavior to entirely new heights. The third’s notes were far enough advanced down her research track that he couldn’t follow more than the basic framework…at least one other person was doing something useful.

Back to the lab. One of the bases had failed miserably…nothing but herb stew. He poured it out and reset with one of the working combinations before selecting the most promising of the lot and collecting the ingredients he’d mapped out the night before. He was almost out of eel liver…if it turned out that it was an ingredient that he needed he was going to have to either collect more or order it from the apothecary. It’s better fresh, but I don’t precisely have time to go splashing about in rivers. Not to mention the fact that any of them that aren’t frozen over at this point are probably just this side of it. He drummed lightly on the counter and then decided not to worry about it until he’d finished this experiment. He’d have to restock his supply at some point anyway, but there was no sense in putting in a rush order if they weren’t even needed.

He was surprised when his stomach started growling several hours later. Well, not surprised that his stomach was growling—that was a fairly common occurrence when he was working and didn’t feel like wasting time on a meal—but that he hadn’t been interrupted. He’d more than half expected Harry to put in an appearance after breakfast. But then again there aren’t a great deal of students remaining over the holiday so the Weasleys probably don’t care to be deprived of his company two days in a row. Particularly in light of current circumstances. Fair enough I suppose. Although it did mean that he’d be preparing all of his own ingredients. Alastor had decided to either leave him in peace—I’d sooner expect Sybil to predict that I’ll live a long and happy life—or Severus hadn’t heard him banging on his outer door, and he’d eventually given up. Either is acceptable, I suppose.

With a quick check of the three simmering cauldrons, he shifted the fourth off of the high heat and set it to cool. He could not only satisfy Poppy’s absolutely unhealthy interest in his eating habits, he could stop by the owlry and send off his order to the apothecary as well. More eel hearts, fresh pomegranate juice, half-a-dozen other odds and ends that he wouldn’t normally use even when experimenting but that had properties that looked promising. He wasn’t sure how much of it would be readily available—as a general rule his stockroom held just as many rare ingredients as any apothecary did—but the owners were in a better position to track down suppliers than he was at this point.

“Severus, I didn’t expect to see you today,” Minerva greeted as he slid into an unoccupied seat at the High Table.

“Just a temporary break to save myself hours of harassment. Poppy.”

“Pleased to see you too,” she returned with a smile that was very near a smirk.

He kept his own expression even as platters sparkled in. There weren’t many staff members in the hall—himself, Poppy, Minerva, and Filius—and the students had been condensed to a single table. For some reason neither Harry nor the youngest Weasley boy had decided to put in an appearance although both twins and the girl were there with their heads together…the ramifications of that kept him occupied throughout the meal. No doubt the two missing teenagers were up to something, it was just a matter of figuring out what. Most likely trying to figure out a way to get back to St. Mungo’s and visit with Mr. Weasley again since obviously no one had come to take them today.

He left as soon as he was finished, returning to his workroom. Down to three possibilities again, apparently…the first potion he’d finished had cooled to an off-white shade with a rather unpleasant looking slime layer along the top. He’d check it, of course, but considering that it was supposed to have ended up deep brown and approximately the consistency of vegetable oil he wasn’t particularly optimistic. And in cauldron number two…well, that looks a bit better. At least it was the right color, although the steam hovering just over the surface should have condensed more quickly. If it cooled faster, maybe that would….

Sometime later a rattling sound interrupted his thoughts, and after a few minutes of building irritation he finally gave in and looked around. Nothing in here was making any noise other than the slow bubbling of heating liquid in his cauldrons…. Ah. Someone at the entrance to his quarters. No doubt the chime was going off as well and it just wasn’t loud enough to be heard. Hm, I wonder why I set it up that way. Oh, yes, that’s right. I don’t like being interrupted.

He set the vial of wormwood ash down with slightly more force than strictly necessary and stalked out into his quarters. “What?”

The Weasley girl swallowed and shifted in place when the panel swung open. “I…Harry said to tell you if they weren’t back by dinner.”

Did I miss dinner already? Wait…back “Back from where?” The Forbidden Forest sprung immediately to mind, although surely the boy wouldn’t have been that idiotic. Aside from the fact that it was off school grounds and barely two days after an attack, it was also well below freezing outside. St. Mungo’s? But what would be the point of telling me? They have terminals; he could floo back anytime he liked. Besides, whoever is on guard duty would already have notified someone. That didn’t leave many places.

“The Chamber of Secrets.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She shrugged awkwardly and shifted again. “The Chamber. He said that you said yesterday that the snake who attacked Dad had poison kind of like the basilisk’s so after breakfast he and Ron decided to go down there and see if Salazar Slytherin had left anything that might help. The twins wanted to go but they figured that if all four of them were missing someone would figure something was going on.”

That was certainly true enough, but when had Harry heard that about Nagini and the basilisk? Well, he did tend to mutter to himself when he was working; it was certainly possible that he’d said something of the sort, but... And then the rest of the statement sunk in and he took a moment to process. They went to see if a long-dead founder of Hogwarts who’d built a hidden chamber under the school to house a giant snake for the sole purpose of getting rid of muggle born students—not generally something that one would consider the mark of a philanthropist—had left behind any antidote for the poison of a snake that wouldn’t even exist for nine or ten centuries. Brilliant. “And he told you to tell me this when?”

“When they left. They went down the entrance and I sent their brooms down after them, but they were supposed to be back before dinner. The twins want to go down themselves and search, but I don’t, and since Harry said to get you….”

“Wonderful.” But no, she probably wouldn’t be interested in returning to the Chamber, would she? Just as well, if she had been amenable all five of them would probably be down there now with no one the wiser. So much for getting any work done tonight. Detention until NEWTs, the both of them. He was more than half-tempted to send her off to find someone else—aside from the fact that he wasn’t even the brat’s Head of House, Merlin knew he already had more than enough to do right now—but…. “All right. Fine. The entrance is in the second floor girls’ bathroom, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it is still open?” I hope. Because Merlin knew what he was supposed to do if it wasn’t. Somehow I don’t think the Dark Lord would be amenable to lending a hand with this little situation, and for some reason I haven’t seen any Parselmouths advertising their services down in Diagon Alley..

She nodded again, obviously relieved that he was cooperating. “You might want a broom, though. So you can get back out.”

I might be better off remaining—it would certainly limit any interruptions. Still, Severus nodded in return, considering the situation. This wasn’t quite the same as retrieving the boy from a couple of useless muggles…who knew what else Salazar Slytherin might have hidden down there. “Run and fetch two, and take them to the entrance. I will join you momentarily.”

“Two?”

“I am not a Gryffindor to run off half-prepared into situations I know nothing about. Go, as I said I will be there shortly.” If he’d understood the schedule that they’d worked out Albus would already be at St. Mungos’s for the evening—based on the theory that that was when the Dark Lord was most likely to attack again since the hospital was always understaffed at night—but Minerva would be more than willing to accompany him. Especially since it was her students that were missing. How do I get into these situations? Drag him all over the bloody Amazon, hunt for him all over Hogwarts, and now I’m off on yet another Potter-finding mission. Couldn’t he take up a hobby less hazardous to my health? Say, knitting? When several heavy knocks on Minerva’s door didn’t produce a response, he stopped by Pomona’s to see if the other woman knew where she might have gone. Unfortunately, where she’d gone was to stay with Molly Weasley for the evening. Completely awful timing, damn it, but under no circumstances am I going to floo the Burrow and inform the Weasley matriarch that one of her children has gone missing—and Harry with him—which leaves…who?

“Severus, that’s not really my area of expertise,” Pomona answered upon being asked. “I’ll go, of course, if you wish me to, but wouldn’t Professor Moody be more useful? I mean, I don’t think I’ve cast a truly offensive spell in…well, it’s been years.”

Severus gritted his teeth. She’d been the obvious choice since she was standing directly in front of him, but she was perfectly correct in her assessment of her own skills. “Of course. Thank you.” Filius quarters were two hallways over, but much to his disgust he arrived to find that the Charms professor was out as well. He’d left a note on his door for the Ravenclaw students remaining over the holidays that he was out in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid and would return by midnight. Not particularly useful for Severus’ purposes. Who knew where Aurora was—as the new head of Slytherin house she had remained on the grounds for the holidays, but it was after dark so she’d be out somewhere with her telescopes. It would take more time than he wanted to spend to track her down, and frankly she practiced even less active magic than Pomona did. Which left Hagrid, Poppy, Sybil, and Alastor. Hagrid was apparently off with Filius which ruled him out, while it would be an excellent opportunity to get Sybil alone and put her out of his misery it wouldn’t help him locate the boys, and Poppy…. “Bloody hell.”

He knew where Alastor’s quarters were, but it took him longer than it should have to get there. Probably because he was still debating the situation with himself on the way. On one hand he wasn’t particularly interested in wandering around the Chamber of Secrets alone, on the other…well, Alastor was not precisely his favorite person. To put it mildly. And the insult to his competency yesterday hadn’t exactly improved his opinion of the older man. There are students are missing. He may be of some use finding them. Or facing anything that might be down there. And I can always Obliviate myself when this is all over. The door panel swung open as he raised his fist to knock, and he glared at the occupant.

“What are you doing here?” Alastor demanded, looking up from a thick volume on his desk.

“Harry and the youngest Weasley boy have been down in the Chamber of Secrets since a bit after breakfast. They were supposed to return by dinner.” They weren’t supposed to go down in the first place.

He frowned for a moment, and then nodded, shutting the book with a snap. “You’re going down now?”

“No, I’m simply spreading the good news,” Severus returned. He might have come this far, but that didn’t mean that he was willing to make a direct plea for help. “Are you coming?”

Alastor made a sharp gesture and his prosthetic leg flew off a stand and into his hands. “How do we get there?”

“Fall down a hole, from what Harry said. I sent the Weasley girl to pick up brooms for us…apparently the only way out is to fly, and since I don’t expect Fawkes to be sitting around waiting to provide us a ride it seemed prudent.”

“School brooms?” Alastor slapped the desk he’d been sitting at with the flat of his hand. “Constant vigilance! Those things sit unguarded in a closet day after day, week after week—might as well hang a sign on them that says ‘Tamper with me—Deatheaters welcome’! Probably all have so many curses on them you’ll drop dead before you even mount.”

“For some reason I think I’ll take the chance.”

Alastor made an annoyed sound and summoned something from the closet.

It was obviously a customized broom—Severus hadn’t seen anything like it before—but this was hardly the time to comment. “This way.” He’d already wasted more time finding someone to accompany him than he probably should have…Merlin knew what the two of them might have run into down there. He very nearly couldn’t believe that he was wishing that the trio were together as opposed to Granger being off who-knew-where. At least she is a stabilizing influence. Who has been known to pay attention in classes from time to time.

The Weasley girl was waiting with two brooms at the entrance to the second-floor bathroom and followed them in to where the twins were leaning over a pipe. The ghost of a girl was moaning in the background, but Severus ignored her.

“Professors,” one of the twins greeted, before returning his attention to the darkness. The other looked up but didn’t comment.

“Merlin’s beard. You two, get back.” Only a Gryffindor would even consider sliding down that thing. A particularly dense Gryffindor. How does that work? ‘Gee, it’s a dark vertical shaft leading Merlin knows where; I think I’ll slide down it.’ “Did they take any supplies with them?” Climbing rope springs immediately to mind.

“Brooms,” the twin who hadn’t spoken said. “And Harry took some lunch in his pack.”

“Wonderful.” He gave the three Weasleys a particularly vicious glare, including the ghost girl when she wouldn’t stop muttering to herself. “We are going to go retrieve Mr. Potter and that brother of yours. Under no circumstances are you to follow us, is that understood?” He waited until all three of the live teenagers gave their assent. “If we haven’t returned within the hour you will explain the situation to Professor Flitwick if he is available or Professor Sprout if he is not. If you are unable to locate either of them….” His glare must have intensified because the two Weasleys in his immediate field of vision stepped back a bit. “Professor McGonagall is at your house.” If there was something down there actively preventing them from returning they’d probably need more help than the remaining teachers would be able to provide.

“Yes, Professor,” one of the twins agreed.

“Do you want me to float your brooms down after you?” the girl offered. She’d set one of the school brooms back against the wall, but the other was still in her hand.

He nodded, but Alastor gripped the shaft of his more tightly and shook his head. His choice. Personally Severus didn’t particularly want to land on his and break it, nor did he want it landing on him. With one more glance at the pipe, he sighed and stepped into it. Particularly dense Gryffindors and Slytherins with probable head injuries.

The slide down—more along the lines of a less-than-controlled fall—wasn’t something that he would ever care to experience again, and he slid to a halt on rocks that made an oddly light clicking sound when knocked together. “Harry? Weasley?” No answer. Not that he’d really expected one. “Lumos.” He knew he shouldn’t, that he should be content with the little light reflecting off the metal and filtering down the pipe, and that he’d be happier not knowing what he’d landed on, but…. As he’d expected. A layer of bones. At least most of them appeared to be rodent, although he wasn’t going to tempt fate by looking too closely. A thump and curse behind him marked Alastor’s arrival—he’d managed to avoid destroying his broom somehow, nor had his leg detached—and Severus’ broom appeared shortly thereafter. With a shake of his now partially-slimed robes he tucked it under what remained of his left arm. “Shall we?” At least there was only the one way to go with no random offshoots that the two boys could have wandered down.

“After you.” Alastor’s magical eye was rotating wildly but apparently there wasn’t anything immediately dangerous because he fell into step at Severus’ elbow without any more comments.

The light from his wand didn’t illuminate more than a small circle around them, but Severus didn’t want to increase the power just yet. What he could see was unpleasant enough.

“Hah!” A pinwheel of fire shot out suddenly, and the corridor was lit by flickering flames as a giant snakeskin off to their right caught fire.

I suppose that answers the question of whether or not he can see down here. Severus had brought up his own wand automatically at Alastor’s spelling, and it took him a moment to remember to lower it. Bloody hell, I knew the thing was big—one only had to look at the size of the fang Harry had brought him to know that—but that is ridiculous. The snakeskin was dry and burned down to nothing almost immediately. “Do you have any idea how many Galleons you just destroyed?”

Alastor grunted and continued walking. “Better safe than sorry.”

Severus matched his pace, extending the light circle from his wand a bit more. I’ll have the two of them gathering buobotubor pus for at least the rest of the year for getting me into this mess. They had to scramble awkwardly through a pile of rubble shortly after, probably from that cave-in that Lockhart had caused. And then a few turns later they found themselves staring up at a detailed carving of two serpents on either side of a half-open panel. “Not to be completely ostentatious or anything.”

“Least there’s light inside.”

It was low, and with a greenish tint, but light all the same, and Severus regripped his wand and stepped through. “Harry? Mr. Weasley?”

The room was huge, probably at least the length of the Great Hall and maybe a bit longer, with pillars of stone covered in snake carvings standing against the walls and reaching up to the ceiling. Snake heads the height of a man reared up out of the water on either side of a stone walkway. In fact the only bit of statuary that didn’t quite match the motif was a shadowed carving of what appeared to be a man on the wall at the far end of the hall, and Severus began to make his way down the dry center path. There was no way to tell the depth of the pools of water…the light from his wand just bounced back without penetrating. Nor was there any way to tell where the water might be coming from, although it would have long since gone stagnant if it had been standing for a thousand years. The light looked to be caused by some sort of bioluminescent mold growing on the walls just above the water’s surface…he’d been under the impression that that only grew in the tropics, but they were insulated enough from the weather down here that it might have been able to survive. Natural light certainly couldn’t penetrate so far underground without a direct connection. The sound of wood tapping on stone ceased, and he glanced back to find Alastor glaring at one of the serpent statues. No matter, it’s not like either of us can get lost in here.

He reached the basilisk corpse at the feet of the stone figure, and even after seeing the skin the sheer size of it stunned him for a moment. Its mouth was open, several fangs chipped and broken and a gaping hole through its braincase. Sword wound, I suppose. Though Merlin knows how the boy managed it without getting swallowed in the process. Half a dozen smaller cuts marred its side as well, probably where Harry had more recently collected the scales and blood. He made himself continue past it and found one of the missing fangs sitting beside a few torn bits of paper with spatters of blood on them. From Riddle’s diary? Probably. Likely, really, although the diary itself wasn't here. He gave them a kick for good measure and then looked up at the stone figure. “Salazar Slytherin, I presume?”

For all the intervening years the stone was well preserved, although there were some newer—at least in terms of its total age—scars marring the surface that were probably related to Harry’s visit three years ago. With a shake, he turned back toward the rest of the hall. He wasn’t here to admire the stonework, after all. The chamber appeared empty of all life but himself and Alastor, but he amplified the light from his wand just to be certain and made his way back down past the basilisk corpse and snake pillars to where Alastor was still standing. “Anything?”

“Walls are too thick for me to see through…I’m not even sure if there is anything to see. Might be nothing but solid stone behind them.”

With a frown, Severus stepped out into the water cautiously. At least it didn’t appear more than a few inches deep, barely covering the front of his boots. Surely the two of them wouldn’t be playing some sort of insane hide-and-seek game around the pillars…. He took another step closer to one and suddenly found himself underwater. His boots and heavy cloak were waterlogged almost immediately. The broom slipped out from under his arm and after a desperate grab he abandoned it, giving vicious kick in an attempt to break the surface. Fully submerged and still unable to feel the bottom under his feet—who knew how far down it actually went—and he clenched his fingers even tighter around his wand. That he couldn’t afford to lose. One foot glanced off something solid, probably the side of one of the snake-head statues, but there was nothing there for him to get a purchase on. “Ascendio!” It came out as a stream of bubbles rather than a word, but the intent was enough, and he was thrown upwards, out of the water. He made a desperate grab for the side of the pathway—there was nothing there for his clamp to grip, but he managed to shift enough of his weight in that direction to get the majority of his body onto the shallower shelf in a bruising landing. He kicked, trying to push himself further out of the deep water when something clamped down on the back of his collar and helped drag him back onto the dry path.

For one horrifying moment he could feel water coursing down his throat and no matter how he tried he couldn’t find any air. Water down his throat, into his lungs, his limbs and chest burning with the curses that had been inflicted on him throughout the night, and now he was going to drown and nothing he did seemed to be doing any—a heavy blow between his shoulder blades threw him forward slightly, and he was suddenly coughing and sputtering as he remembered how to breathe again. I’m in the Chamber of Secrets. The Chamber. Not…. Another blow landed, and he gagged up another mouthful of water, but at least that seemed to be the end of it.

“Easy, lad.”

He took several more deep breaths before his rapid heartbeat finally steadied, and then with a shake of his head he forced himself to stand. Bits of light were still dancing in front of his eye, and blinked hard to banish them. “I’m fine. Accio broom.” It was a relief when it flew to him almost immediately. Fortunately for me, wood generally floats. A quick drying spell later, and he made himself meet Alastor’s eye steadily. “I suppose the boys stayed on the path, then.”

“Merlin help them if they didn’t, but since they obviously aren’t here they must have gone somewhere.”

Severus concentrated and amplified the light from his wand again. “A hidden tunnel?” It was too large a room for one or two wizards to fully light—couldn’t Salazar have included a torch or two along the walls?—but by aiming their wands carefully and moving slowly they were able to examine the brickwork fairly closely. There didn’t look to be any hidden panels or doorways that the two boys could have gone down even if they had swum through the pools. They paced the length of the Chamber. Nothing. The entire room goes nowhere. Could the basilisk have lived in this single area for a thousand years? He halted at the feet of Salazar Slytherin as Alastor poked around the corpse, trying to recall what he’d heard about the Chamber. There were the basic rumors that everyone knew that were of no help at all. If Albus knew more he’d never seen fit to tell anyone about it even when the Chamber had been opened, and afterwards he’d been more interested in Riddle and the diary. Harry, though….Harry had a nightmare, back in Brazil. ‘Ginny and the basilisk’…one of the ‘normal’ ones. He said that the Dark Lord called up the thing. From the water? Possible, I suppose, but—no, he said something about a stone opening. “What stone?”

“What?”

“Harry said something about a stone opening and the basilisk coming out when Riddle called it when he came down here the first time.”

“Hm.” Alastor stepped closer to the statue. “The stone isn’t so thick here.”

Severus looked up as well. He’d thought the mouth on the statue was simply carved in an open position, but in the amplified light it did look more like a cavern. Surely not. Still…. He began to climb and heard Alastor making a slower ascent behind him. “Well, it is a tunnel. Harry? Weasley?” No response, and he turned to offer Alastor a hand over the last lip. He owed him that much for helping him avoid the near drowning earlier, not that he planned on admitting any of the sort.

“I’m beginning to think that we should have brought more supplies,” Alastor muttered when they were finally standing at the mouth of the tunnel.

Severus nodded as they began to follow it into darkness. He’d much prefer to be out in the open area—there were far too many ways he could become trapped here not the least threatening of which was a cave-in—but sitting and waiting for them to come out rather defeated the purpose of looking for them in the first place. Not to mention that that open area is a trap of its own with giant pools off to either side…. He reached a fork and frowned. “Micans Vestigium.” A glowing ball appeared on the stone where he’d tapped his wand.

“Work from the left or right?”

“Left, I suppose.”

“Merlin forbid you do anything from the right.”

Severus rolled his eye and ignored the tone—harassing, not accusatory; he could get even later. The decision was completely arbitrary, but they obviously had to start somewhere. He considered the dark tunnels a moment longer before giving the ball another tap and reforming it into a left-pointing arrow. If something happened to himself and Alastor he’d prefer there was a clearly visible trail to follow. Why Harry and Weasley couldn’t manage something similar I’ll never know. He heard Alastor marking the direction they’d come from as well...probably a wise idea. It was of precious little use to know where you were going if you had no idea how to get back to where you were. A traditional maze-solving technique was to stay along one wall…granted that this wasn’t technically a maze as far as he knew, but better to be cautious now than get lost. Of course, the technique wouldn’t work if all of the walls weren’t connected, but considering that everything down here had been carved out of solid stone he was willing to believe that they hadn’t been overly clever in the construction. Maze or no, they should be able to cover all of the tunnels this way. Though Merlin knows how deep they run. “It would be faster if we split up.”

“Use your head, boy. Splitting up in a situation like this has an unfortunate habit of leading to the death of one or both parties. It’s a favorite tactic for dealing with enemies that are too powerful to handle with in groups.”

He had a point—Severus had participated in more than one raid that had used said tactic during his time as a Deatheater—and while he had explored the Hogwarts dungeons on his own once upon a time, these weren’t precisely his dungeons. Still, by his estimate it had been approximately twenty minutes since they’d left the Weasley children; that left them only forty minutes to find the missing teenagers and get out before someone else came looking. He started down the left tunnel at a fair speed, but shortly thereafter the sound of movement beside him ceased. “What is it?”

“This is hollow.” Alastor slapped the wall beside him. “Looks like there’s a room on the other side.”

“Is there a door? Some kind of entrance.” Severus shifted his wand into the clamp and scraped at the moss and slime that coated the wall. He could feel some sort of deep scratches under his hand—possibly the doorframe—and he tried to clear away the growth.

“It’s a snake.”

“What?”

“A snake carving.” Alastor sketched out the pattern above the wall with one hand.

“Damn. From what Harry said everything else down here requires Parseltongue to open; I suppose this probably does too.”

Alastor’s magical eye had stopped rolling and was focused forward for a long moment. “I don’t think there’s anyone inside. I can’t see more than shapes, but they all look more like furniture than teenagers.”

“Harry? Weasley?” Severus banged on the wall sharply but got no response. “I suppose we should mark it and keep going.”

They passed one more room, but again there didn’t appear to be anyone inside, and sooner than he liked the tunnel split again. This time one of the tunnels angled up, another down, and he left another glowing arrow before they took the lower path. It dropped away steeply, and only Alastor’s hasty tug on his arm kept him from stepping off into another pool of water. Remembering the sudden depth of the pool earlier he probed it with the handle of his broom, but when the thing disappeared nearly up to the bristles they retraced their steps and changed the arrow. “If you can see what’s outside the light circle, maybe you should be going first.”

“Can’t see any more than you. Could in the Chamber and in the tunnels right off the entrance—more ambient light—but we’ve gone too deep for there to be anything to work with. Only saw the water because of a bit of reflection.”

“Hm.” This time, by holding the broom awkwardly in his clamp and using it to probe the ground in front of him as well as using his wand to light the immediate area, Severus gave himself a bit more security in terms of footing. At least it would let him know if solid ground suddenly disappeared. And if they couldn’t find the boys on dry land…well, then the water could be checked. If he remembered correctly Pomona had purchased a pair of aqua-lungs for checking on the underwater plant life she was cultivating with the help of some of the mer. He shook his head. They had enough to deal with right now, no sense borrowing more trouble.

The upper tunnel split, and then split again, and Severus began to wonder just what all these tunnels had been put in for. He could understand a few more chambers for the basilisk—to attract the rodents it fed on and keep it from starving to death if nothing else—but it didn’t make sense that someone would build it an entire warren down here. Unless of course something else lives down here…. There had been rooms, after all. One of the tunnels dead-ended; the second ended even more quickly but in a wall of rubble. “Recent?”

“Do I look like a stonemason to you?”

Severus considered replying in the affirmative just to see what the response would be. I really should have brought someone I’m not inclined to bait continuously.

Alastor picked up a few of the smaller stones setting around them and rubbed it with his thumb. “Too much dust to have happened today though, I’d say.”

They tried to shift some of the stone anyway, but the manner in which it had come down had left large chunks blocking the path that they’d never be able to move without a levitation spell. And from the way they were propped up Severus wasn’t totally certain that lifting them away wouldn’t bring down the roof of this stretch of tunnel on their heads. “Let’s try one of the others.”

“Agreed.”

Backtracking, he marked that shaft with an extra notch beside his direction arrow and then they doubled back to the previous split. Severus’ shoulders were starting to ache from the slight stoop he’d had to assume to keep from bumping his head on the uneven tunnel ceiling…he was going to be mortally glad when the boys were found and he could return to Hogwarts proper. And kill them. “Harry? Weasley?”

Two more splits later—one of them a three-way—and direction markers notwithstanding Severus was beginning to wish that he’d brought a ball of string with him. The left tunnel had led down to yet another pool of water; they were currently on the third upslope of the middle one. By his estimation they’d passed the hour mark in the middle of the second upslope which meant at least one more professor should be on his or her way. Probably more. Just as well; they’d be able to cover the tunnels more quickly, and he’d be able to get back to that venom antidote. So far the only positive side to the situation seemed to be that Alastor was sparing him conversation.

His broom handle caught in rough patch of rubble and was wrenched out of his grip, bringing him abruptly back to the present. Hm. Interesting. The floor of this tunnel seemed to have collapsed downwards just in front of their current position, joining it to another tunnel below. Not particularly comforting when you considered that something similar could happen in other tunnels while they were walking through, but if they could hold up a snake of the basilisk’s weight…well, there were other things to be worried about.

“I’d say keep going,” Alastor offered. “Can call it a continuation of the same tunnel.”

Severus nodded. The rock pile looked sturdy enough for climbing on, and after a moment more of internal debate to figure out the best path he made his way slowly down. Alastor was following even more slowly, and he waited on level ground. So either the third tunnel swings around to here or we’ve entered an entirely new section. He left another glowing arrow on the wall near the bottom of the pile, just to be safe.

“Harry? Weasley?”

“Ever considered a recording charm?”

Well, he had been spared conversation. At least they reached another split before he had to come up with an appropriate rejoinder. “Was Slytherin planning for an entire colony of basilisks?”

Alastor snorted.

He’s probably expecting one. Severus marked the left tunnel and began to make his way down it, only to halt as the broom handle caught on something. He looked down to find a boy with red hair lying almost at his feet. “Weasley?” The boy was motionless, eyes closed and skin pale, and it was with some relief that Severus finally found a pulse. He moved past, allowing Alastor to kneel on the ground at the boy’s head and begin a series of diagnostic spells. While the other man was occupied, Severus took a few more steps down the tunnel. “Harry? Potter, are you down here?” Surely he would have stayed with his friend…. He increased the light from his wand as much as he could, but the corridor extended down into blackness with no sign of the other boy. After a moment he dropped the Lumos spell back to the level he’d had it at previously. “Bloody hell.”

“This one’s got a concussion—a bad one,” Alastor said when Severus turned back. “There’s a crack in the back of his skull. Some other bruises as well; must have taken a nasty tumble somewhere. I’ve done what I can, but….”

Severus realized upon a second look that the cloak that had been draped over the Weasley boy wasn’t his own; he was still wearing that. Which was good when you considered that Harry had still been on his feet and capable of caring for his friend, and bad when you considered that Harry wasn’t here.

“Potter must have kept going for some reason,” Alastor continued.

“Probably went looking for help.” Bloody Gryffindor. For the two of them, leaving the Weasley boy here wasn’t an option. Nor was hauling him along if he had a cracked skull; he needed treatment that neither of them were capable of providing, and the sooner the better. But we’ve already been walking for over an hour. If we backtrack all the way to the entrance and then have to retrace our steps…. Damn it, he’d never considered the idea that the boys might have split up. “Can you take him back while I go on?” He moved faster than Alastor, especially down here; it might have made more sense for him be the one to take the Weasley boy back, but since he’d been the one that Harry had wanted notified in the first place….

“Are you sure?”

“If we both go, who knows how deep Harry will be by the time we get back to this point.”Of course he might find his way to the entrance on his own, but somehow I don’t think we’ll be so fortunate.

From the expression on his face, Alastor had already worked that much out for himself. “Keep marking your trail, then. And constant vigilance. If I run into whoever came after us I’ll send them in your direction or come back myself.” He picked up the Weasley boy’s wand at the same time he flicked his own. “Lumos. Levicorpus.”