3:00 AM.
Hogwarts Plumbing System.
The air reeked of rot and was slick with damp moss. An ordinary person standing here would likely go mad from claustrophobia.
But Ivan Potter strolled through it like it was his own back garden.
He held his ebony wand in his left hand. The tip emitted a ball of cold, ghostly blue fire (not ordinary flame, but "Soul Fire" redeemed from the System), illuminating the pitch-black tunnel ahead.
"System, confirm coordinates."
> [Ding! High-concentration Horcrux reaction detected. Turn left ahead, 30 meters. Warning: Target creature is extremely dangerous. Host is advised to flee immediately.]
"Flee?" Ivan raised an eyebrow, a wild smirk curling his lips. "I'm here to collect protection money. Why should I run?"
He turned the corner, and the view opened up.
It was a massive underground chamber, resembling an abandoned reservoir. In the center of the pool stood a gigantic serpentine statue, its mouth holding a tap engraved with intricate patterns.
And coiled atop the statue was a bone-chilling figure.
It was a snake.
But not an ordinary snake.
It was as thick as a barrel, covered in dull green scales. Its yellow vertical pupils shone like searchlights in the dark.
A Basilisk.
Although still in its juvenile stage, the pressure radiating from this ancient magical beast was enough to make any adult wizard's knees weak.
Currently, the Basilisk was staring dead at the intruder, its forked tongue flicking in and out with a hissing warning. In the stone crevice beneath it, a tattered diary glowed faintly with black light—Tom Riddle's Horcrux, feeding on the Basilisk's vitality.
"Yo, big guy."
Ivan didn't retreat. Instead, he took two steps forward, looking up at the Basilisk with the gaze of someone appraising a pet. "You look unique, but a bit malnourished. Didn't old Tom feed you properly?"
ROAR—!
The Basilisk was enraged.
It snapped its massive jaws open, two half-meter-long fangs glinting coldly in the blue firelight, and lunged straight for Ivan's head!
Speed like lightning!
If this were an ordinary first-year student, they would have been snapped in two.
But Ivan's reaction was faster.
Or rather, he never planned to dodge.
"Word Soul · Micro-Control."
Ivan whispered four words.
No spell incantation, no wand movement.
But just as the Basilisk's fangs were a centimeter from Ivan's nose—
It stopped.
Not because the Basilisk wanted to stop, but because the air around it suddenly became as hard as steel!
Using his "Word Soul" ability, Ivan forcibly modified the physical parameters of that small space, turning "air" into "high-strength gel."
The Basilisk's mouth felt like it had slammed into an invisible wall. Its teeth ached, unable to bite down.
"Is that it?"
Ivan sighed. His figure blurred, instantly appearing at the Basilisk's "seven-inch" weak point (courtesy of a "Shrink Earth to Inch" talisman).
He raised the Thestral wand, didn't cast a spell, but used it like a dagger, stabbing viciously into the gap between the Basilisk's scales!
Splurt!
The ebony wood was as hard as iron, and combined with Ivan's unscientific brute strength, it pierced right through the Basilisk's defense!
HISS—!!!
The Basilisk let out a shrill scream. Its massive tail thrashed wildly, sending stone fragments flying.
It wanted to counterattack. It wanted to kill this insect with its lethal gaze.
It whipped its head around, its yellow vertical pupils locking onto Ivan's eyes!
Death Stare!
However, Ivan didn't even blink.
His pupils instantly turned pure blood-red. An aura far more ancient and tyrannical than the Basilisk's erupted from his body.
It was Dragon Fear (borrowed from the bloodline suppression of a Norwegian Ridgeback) mixed with the terrifying pressure of Voldemort's soul fragment!
In the Basilisk's perception, the tiny human before it instantly transformed into a black, primordial demonic dragon that blotted out the sky! The absolute suppression from the top of the food chain made its soul tremble!
The Basilisk's "Death Stare" was choked back, replaced by a biological instinct to submit—it wanted to run!
"Trying to run? Did you ask my wand?"
Ivan sneered. His left hand slammed onto the top of the Basilisk's head.
"Legilimency · Reverse Invasion!"
This wasn't to read memories, but to implant fear!
Ivan dumped the negative emotions stored in his System space—"The Despair of Azkaban Dementors," "Mountains of Corpses on the Battlefield"—directly into the Basilisk's brain!
The Basilisk's body went rigid instantly. It lay on the ground like a dead snake, only its tail twitching unconsciously. Its gaze shifted from ferocious to vacant, and finally, two streams of murky tears leaked out.
It was broken.
Ivan dusted off the snake scale powder from his hands and wiped them disdainfully on the Basilisk's hide. "Terrible psychological resilience. Crying already? How are you going to roll with me in the future?"
He ignored the mentally collapsed giant snake and walked to the statue, pulling out the diary wedged in the crack.
The diary was burning hot. On the cover, Tom Riddle's young, handsome, yet sinister face appeared.
"Let me go!" Tom's scream came from the diary. "Who are you? What did you do to my pet?!"
"Your pet?" Ivan rolled his eyes. He pulled a "Demon Sealing Talisman" he'd swiped from Borgin and Burkes and slapped it onto the diary cover with a snap.
"It's mine now."
Ivan didn't destroy it (that would waste experience points). Instead, he tossed it directly into the System Space's "Refining Furnace."
> [System Alert: Damaged Horcrux x1 detected. Decompose?]
> [Decomposing... Gained 500 points of Pure Soul Energy. Gained Skill "Parseltongue (Mastery)". Gained Item "Basilisk Fang (Refined)".]
Just then.
Rapid footsteps echoed from the tunnel entrance.
"Who's there?!"
A beam of red light illuminated the entire chamber.
Professor Snape rushed in, wand raised, black robes billowing, wearing a grim "I've caught you red-handed" expression.
However, when he saw the scene clearly, he froze as if struck by lightning.
What did he see?
The Basilisk cub, a creature that terrified all of Hogwarts, was curled in a corner like a wronged puppy, shivering.
And Ivan Potter was standing on top of the Basilisk's head, holding a burning black diary.
What broke Snape the most was—
Ivan's eyes hadn't completely turned back to black. That crimson glint looked exceptionally demonic in the darkness.
"Professor Snape?" Ivan turned around, raising the charred remains of the diary innocently. "If I said I was here to help you destroy contraband, would you believe me?"
Snape didn't speak.
He looked at the Basilisk, mentally abused into an existential crisis, then at the puddle of wet blood beneath Ivan's feet (the Basilisk's own blood).
In this moment, Snape's brain was firing on all cylinders.
A first-year student, appearing at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets late at night.
Without a wand (actually he had one, but used it as a dagger), he subdued a Basilisk bare-handed?
No, not bare-handed... this was some extremely advanced Dark Magic! A forbidden mind-control art!
And that diary... that was the aura of a Horcrux! This kid is researching Horcruxes?!
Snape felt his worldview collapsing.
This isn't a student. This is clearly a larval Dark Lord wearing human skin! Or a "Killing Weapon" secretly cultivated by Dumbledore!
> [System Alert: Target "Snape" experiencing severe emotional fluctuation!]
> [Emotion Analysis: Shock (50%), Terror (30%), Fanaticism of Discovering Treasure (20%)]
> [Congratulations Host! Emotion Value +800! Critical Hit!]
> [Current Total: 5200 Points!]
Snape took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the urge to write Dumbledore immediately.
He strode forward, ignoring the twitching Basilisk, and grabbed Ivan's shoulder with a grip strong enough to crush bone.
"You... what did you do to it?" Snape's voice trembled, not from fear, but excitement (obsession with Dark Arts).
"A little psychological counseling." Ivan shrugged, shaking off Snape's hand. "Professor, you're just in time. This snake is mine now; I needed a gatekeeper. As for this diary..."
Ivan tossed the half-burnt diary to Snape.
"I already ate the soul fragment inside. You can take the leftover cardboard to Dumbledore to report your success. Just say you found it; I don't want to steal your thunder."
Snape caught the diary, his knuckles white.
Soul fragment... "eaten"?
This kid ate a Horcrux as a snack?!
"You... you are a monster, Potter." Snape looked at Ivan with a gaze complicated to the extreme, like looking at a bottle of nitroglycerin about to explode. "If you dare use this power on anyone other than Slytherins... I will personally slice you into pieces and preserve you in formaldehyde."
"Relax, Professor." Ivan yawned, turning to walk out, casually kicking the playing-dead Basilisk. "Get up. Stop pretending. Time to go back to the dorm."
The massive Basilisk actually obediently crawled up, following Ivan like a pet, even fawningly rubbing its head against Ivan's back.
Snape stood there, watching the boy and the snake disappear into the dark tunnel.
After a long time, he pulled out his wand and cast "Occlumency" on himself.
"I need a moment..." Snape murmured. "Also, tomorrow's lesson... I need to increase the difficulty for this kid. Ordinary potions won't satisfy this monster anymore."
He looked down at the charred remains of the diary in his hand.
A trace of Ivan's aura remained on it—a pure "Darkness" that made even Snape's heart palpitate.
"Perhaps..." The corner of Snape's mouth curled into an extremely subtle, arguably twisted smile. "He really can do what He could not."