Chapter 327: Dumbledore’s Lapse
The mention of Voldemort's youth and a diary containing a fragment of his 16-year-old soul was nearly overwhelming. Professor McGonagall took a moment to absorb it all, her gaze flickering between the destroyed diary and the massive Basilisk next to Kyle.
"But I'm more interested in the events that occurred between then and now," Dumbledore said, his eyes settling on the Basilisk with wary curiosity.
Sensing a threat, the Basilisk bared its fangs and instinctively tried to open its eyes, ready to strike. Kyle swiftly raised his hand and gave it a firm slap across the head.
"Pop!"
The slap echoed throughout the Chamber. Every professor's eyes widened in shock—Flitwick even let out a small scream, and Professor Sprout clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. Each of them raised their wands, fearing Kyle would be devoured the very next second. Even Dumbledore had drawn his peculiar, ancient-looking wand.
Yet, the Basilisk merely recoiled slightly, then quietly slithered back, mouth closed.
"Don't worry, Professor," Kyle said with a smile. "It's sort of my pet now. It won't harm anyone."
The professors exchanged incredulous looks. The image was nothing short of surreal—like watching a Niffler casually slap a Dragon. The astonishment in the room was as thick as the silence that followed.
At last, Snape broke it.
"Am I to understand that... you wish to claim school property as your own, Mr. Kyle?" he said, his voice as silky as ever as he tucked his wand back into his robes. "This is the Chamber of Secrets, after all, and as a legacy of Salazar Slytherin, this Basilisk belongs to... the school."
"No, it's mine," Kyle replied confidently. "Salazar Slytherin himself gave it to me."