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"Not worth the price." Dark Magic may give terrible offensive powers but Alexandra wanted to enjoy life and what came after. "We can't use them, and they have not been seen in centuries. It's a dead end. Unless you believe a rooster can do the job?"
Both the Gryffindor boy and the Ravenclaw snorted. The legend a rooster could kill a Basilisk still persisted after hundreds of centuries, no matter the evidence against. Usually it resulted in giving a nice breakfast to the Monster before it went killing more wizards.
But then the Basilisk was not something born from the unnatural union of a toad and a chicken. The King of Snakes was the sum of horrific experiences in crossbreeding between the most dangerous species of snakes supported by incubators created by dark alchemy.
It went without saying that if Salazar Slytherin was alive, the Potter Heiress would kill him directly for having the temerity to dabble in these atrocious experiments.
"What we need is time...my father will receive our letter." Nigel spoke again. "So will Morag's parents. They will have a solution."
"I don't share your optimism. It has been nearly a month, Nigel."
"I know. But owls aren't intercepted, and your Atalanta is a smart owl. I'm sure she would have noticed if someone tried to steal the letters."
"The courier arrives every morning does not mean owls aren't intercepted. Not every disruption can be seen by a naked eye."
Alexandra had the very bad feeling the formidable wards of Hogwarts, unable to counter the threat of the dreaded Basilisk, were now used for something far more sneaky and underhanded, preventing the Ministry and concerned parents to intervene in the school in danger. The main suspect would have been Dumbledore months ago. But the Chief Warlock was not here. Perhaps it was the Heir or another of his accomplices.
"I don't know why they haven't answered our letters though I have my suspicions. But one thing is sure: we don't have months."
An ambiance of terror had developed inside Hogwarts walls after the attacks of the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match. The new series of petrifactions by itself would have been largely enough to make the younger students shiver; the large magical demonstration on the Quidditch Pitch was a power-play of a different level altogether.
In front of the gathered Professors, the persons acting in the name of the Heir had planned and executed an impressive attack...and they had gotten away with it.
The students were not scared anymore by the Heir. They were completely and utterly terrified.
The teachers had tried reassuring words the whole day and the week after, in pure loss. To be fair, the intervention of the Minister of Magic Fudge had probably quite something to do with it.
Six days after the attack, on Saturday evening, the highest government official of the British Ministry had entered the Hall to deliver the 'good news'.
A suspect in the case of the Chamber of Secrets had been arrested. At first they had been a slim hope in their hearts but then they had learned the 'suspect' was none other than the Keeper of the Keys, Rubeus Hagrid. In the next days, Alexandra had been unable to say if it was at that moment or shortly after that she had understood the wizard at the top of the Ministry hierarchy was a complete moron. It was not supposed to be a surprise, but the Wizengamot was indeed so jealous of its power that the most influent Houses had chosen a perfect imbecile for the job.
Headmaster Dumbledore had been suspended 'temporarily' of his functions, in a rarely unanimous move of the Board of Governors. Rumours that Lord Malfoy had arrived to this outcome by blackmail and threat had been ignored. Professor McGonagall had been named as temporary Headmistress for the interim crisis. A full squad of Aurors had been stationed in the school itself, patrolling and searching the school for dark heirlooms and the Heir of Slytherin. All of this news had been pronounced with a big smile and the "certain assurance", in the Minister own words, that this crisis was over.
There had been no more attacks signed in blood-like substances or bearing the Slytherin insignia from that moment. There was no need to.
Most of the liberties taken for granted in a school were now gone, and Hogwarts had transformed into something part-prison and part-dictatorship. The only places the students had now the right to be were the dorms, the Common Room of their own House, the library, the classrooms and the Great Hall. And to go from one to another, they had to be escorted at all times by a Professor.
Quidditch matches had been cancelled. Clubs had been cancelled. The Hogwarts choir had been cancelled. Studying on its own in abandoned classroom was no longer possible. Walking alone on the Hogwarts grounds was no longer authorised. It was anybody's estimate how long it would take before going to the toilets with an adult supervising was the norm.
"What we need is a plan."
"I have one." Said sombrely Alexandra. A plan which frankly had been done in a hurry and in anger when she had watched Madam Pomfrey take away the petrified bodies of Morag and Hermione.
"Besides killing half of Slytherin House, and let magic sort them out." The auburn-haired boy précised.
"Don't defend them, Nigel. Do you hear them speaking in classes and in the Great Hall?"
If one had believed the Slytherins had been arrogant before the attacks, then the aftermath had seen them rise to new levels of bigotry and idiocy in their quest for pure-blood supremacy.
Where before only one or two idiots like Draco Malfoy had been willing to speak the word 'Mudblood' in public, almost two-thirds of the House was now telling slurs and various insults to whoever they thought was a 'Mudblood', a 'blood-traitor' or 'a half-blood bint that has no place among us'.
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