Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 203, Section 202: The Death of the Basilisk and the Wrath of Snape

Since this underground classroom has already been almost completely demolished into ruins, there's no need to worry about this or that.

If such a large basilisk were allowed to roam freely in the castle and cause the deaths of those curious young wizards, then it would be a dereliction of duty on the part of Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Harry.

Fox kept chirping, but compared to its usual leisurely chirping, the phoenix's calls sounded very urgent, accompanied by the sound of its wings flapping rapidly. Fox flew above the basilisk's head, and whenever the basilisk tried to attack the people in the room, it would immediately fly down and peck at the basilisk's eyes, forcing it to dodge.

Dumbledore tentatively cast a few spells, but to be honest, the effect was not very good. When his spells landed on the basilisk's body, the emerald scales deflected the spells like smooth mirrors.

"Watch out, Dumbledore!"

Harry roared as he tore a massive chunk of stone, as tall as an adult, from the castle wall. Fire elementals cheered and leaped, instantly melting the stone into a ball of scorching lava—the heat was so intense that even people standing a few meters away could feel it and could hardly get close.

Lava erupts!!
Without any fancy tricks, Harry simply hurled the molten lava at the basilisk. The lava's inherent high temperature and immense weight, combined with its immense pressure in the real world, caused the basilisk's thick body to bend outwards in a bizarre manner upon impact, before letting out a painful hiss.

Tumbling.

A violent writhing.

The basilisk's enormous body writhed wildly in the cramped classroom, crushing tables, chairs, plates, old wooden cabinets, and even rubble into powder. Its thick, serpentine body swept across the classroom with impunity, almost hitting Dumbledore—the old man's movements were surprisingly agile for his age, and he dodged quite quickly.

But Harry's attacks went far beyond that. Years of fighting experience had taught him two things: never hold back in battle and always make sure the enemy is completely dead before celebrating.

Before Dumbledore, who had dodged, could say anything, Harry tore off another piece of the wall, melted it into a ball of boiling lava, and flung it out!
"Wait! Harry!" Dumbledore's face turned green, and he shouted anxiously, "Don't tear down the castle!!"

But it was too late; Harry had already instinctively unleashed a whole set of spells.

It had even transformed from the rising of air elements into the rising of fire elements; at this moment, this man was only pursuing the ultimate damage.

Element overload!

Flame Shock!

Lava bursts!

Elemental Impact!

The wind howled!

Harry couldn't look directly at the basilisk, fearing he might accidentally see its eyes while it was struggling desperately, but the invisible elemental could look directly at it—so he just needed to let the elemental aim on its own.

Each lava streak that roared past was like a heavy punch from a giant, and the elementalist specifically aimed at the most vulnerable parts of the basilisk's body, especially the wound that had already been hit.

It was taught to love elemental magic.

There was no snake blood that should have sprayed out from the wound as the basilisk's body writhed violently. These weak bodily fluids had already boiled the moment they were squeezed out of the flesh, and then evaporated and disappeared completely.

When Harry finally received Dumbledore's signal to stop and ceased his attack, the enormous basilisk had already been completely severed into three pieces, and its large, yellow eyes were now blind—Fox had done it.

Taking advantage of the basilisk's frantic struggle in pain, the brave and reliable phoenix swooped down and tore off its eyes, so at least Harry and Dumbledore could now look directly at the basilisk.

The scene suddenly became strangely quiet. Harry and Dumbledore stood at the farthest point of the room—well, the farthest point of the room wall—watching the basilisk's final struggle. In contrast to their calm state, the basilisk on the other side—the three-sectioned basilisk—was still making its final struggle.

The snake's body and its enormous size provided the basilisk with an extraordinary amount of vitality, but at this moment, this vitality could only cause it more pain.

Fawkes flew over, circled around Harry and Dumbledore, and finally landed on Harry's shoulder.

“...It seems you and Fawkes are more familiar with each other than I thought,” Dumbledore said, feigning sadness. “It’s not even that close to me anymore.”

With a soft murmur, Fox gave Dumbledore a disdainful look.

“If you keep feeding her hordes of cockroaches, then the relationship between you and Fawkes will probably go beyond just being distant,” Harry said, stroking the phoenix’s long tail feathers with a speechless expression.

"Hmm," Dumbledore turned his head away, pretending not to hear.

"I never imagined that such a huge basilisk would live among us at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said with a touch of self-deprecation. "It seems I'm not doing a very good job as headmaster."

"Do you have any clue about its origin?" Harry asked.

“There are some,” Dumbledore nodded slightly, “but clearly now is not a good time to tell them.”

"We can talk about that later."

"of course."

In the few words exchanged between the two, the remaining remains of the basilisk gradually grew cold. They lay quietly on the ground, only occasionally wriggling instinctively, and then made no further movements.

Harry and Dumbledore walked over.

“What a horrible creature,” Dumbledore said, scrutinizing the basilisk’s already mangled head, especially its two exposed fangs and the venom dripping from their tips. “But even more terrifying is your magic, Harry… it seems to have been created specifically for killing.” Examining the basilisk’s wounds closely, Dumbledore saw the flesh torn apart by the force of the molten lava, the charred and foul-smelling wounds, and even now, wisps of blue-green electricity still crackled across the broken surfaces of its body.

It wasn't an illusion; Dumbledore could clearly see several tiny wisps of wind elementals still raging across the basilisk's corpse, tearing away its flesh and blood.

Ferocity, chaos, and cruelty—in Dumbledore's eyes, at least in battle, these elements displayed unprecedented enthusiasm and positivity, a far cry from the indifferent and lazy attitude he usually showed when communicating with them.

"The other world is not peaceful" probably guessed what Dumbledore was worried about, but Harry didn't care. He simply explained calmly, "We have too many powerful enemies to defeat, and as the weak, we have no right to complain about power."

"As the weak?" Dumbledore looked at Harry with some surprise, then nodded. "It's good that our world doesn't have enemies that require magic of this power to defeat."

"Indeed," Harry agreed, "People living in this world are indeed very fortunate."

Just as the two were talking, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from the corridor outside.

Before long, Professor McGonagall and her group of professors had turned past the corridor... well, it should be said that it used to be a wall, and they stared in disbelief at the ruins of the underground classroom in front of them.

At least three underground classrooms were devastated, from one side of the corridor to the other—and most importantly, the basilisk's body.

The professors never imagined they would see such a hellish scene at Hogwarts. The corpses reeked of burning flesh, the faces were contorted in a grotesque manner, and dark red lava flowed across the floor.

"Oh, Minerva, it's good to see you." With the source of danger gone, Dumbledore seemed to be in a very good mood for some reason. He smiled and said, "Have the children all gone back?"

“Yes, they’ve all been taken back by the prefects,” Professor McGonagall answered instinctively, then strode over. “But Albus—what happened? I mean—why—good heavens!!”

With her hands clasped tightly against her chest, Professor McGonagall looked extremely pale, as if she were dizzy from shock and unable to accept it.

She naturally recognized what the corpse on the ground was, but it was precisely because she knew what it was that Professor McGonagall found it even more unacceptable.

Just as Dumbledore said, why would such a deadly and dangerous magical creature exist in Hogwarts, the castle responsible for teaching young wizards? A basilisk?!

“I know it’s hard for you to accept, but that’s the truth, Minerva,” Dumbledore comforted her. “The most important thing is that the students are safe. As for the other problems, we can deal with them later—well, for example, you’ll probably have to worry about repairing the castle next.”

"This is no time for jokes, Professor Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall glared at Dumbledore and said sharply, "We must strengthen the castle's defenses, or who knows what kind of attack will strike next!"

Before Professor McGonagall could finish speaking, Snape strode over, his black robes billowing, and his mere presence made Lockhart, who was blocking his way, instinctively step aside.

"How dare you?!!"

Standing in front of Harry, Snape growled.

He looked extremely angry, his brows furrowed, his lips pressed tightly together, and he even reached out and cupped Harry's face in his hands, forcibly lifting his head—first prying open Harry's eyelids to examine him, and then looking at his tongue and body.

Snape roughly ripped a leather bag from his waist, pulled out bottle after bottle of potions, and forced Harry to drink them.

"The damage caused by dark magic has even made your soul unstable. How dare you—how am I supposed to explain this to your mother?!"

After seeing Harry obediently drink a vial of potion, Snape seemed to finally regain his ability to speak. He growled quickly, his voice not loud, but loud enough for everyone present to hear.

Its imposing presence even made Professor McGonagall temporarily forget about repairing the castle, while Dumbledore... the old man just watched the spectacle with a smile.

“…Oh, Severus, I’m afraid you don’t need to be so nervous.” After being glared at by Harry, Dumbledore finally spoke up, reassuring him, “As you can see, this basilisk was defeated entirely by Harry alone; I didn’t play much of a role in the process.”

"Didn't work?!" Snape's head snapped towards Dumbledore, and he took two angry steps closer. "A Hogwarts headmaster who can't do much when the school is facing such a dangerous magical creature attack?! If your head is really full of disgusting sweets, then you should have given up your position and let the truly capable people take over!"

“Professor Snape!” Professor McGonagall disagreed.

“Calm down, Professor Snape, don’t let anger cloud your judgment,” Harry advised. “Headmaster Dumbledore certainly had the ability to deal with this basilisk, I just acted quickly and didn’t give him a chance—uh, I’m sorry for damaging the underground classroom like this, Professor McGonagall.”

Harry looked at Professor McGonagall with some embarrassment.

"When faced with danger, I trust my shamanic magic more... well, without the elemental realm, my spells caused a lot of damage to the castle... although I'm reluctant to admit it, the damage this basilisk caused to the castle was indeed less than the damage I caused."

“Don’t say that, Harry,” Professor McGonagall said quickly. “Your eyes—good heavens, it’s the best thing that you’re alive. I can’t even imagine what it would be like if you…”

Professor McGonagall didn't finish her sentence; she just kept shaking her head.

"Anyway, thank you for speaking up for me, Harry," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "However, I have indeed been thinking about retirement recently. Hmm, perhaps Hogwarts needs a new headmaster, one who is young enough and capable enough to protect the school."

“Oh, yes, yes, this responsibility is indeed very heavy, Headmaster of Hogwarts,” Lockhart interjected, “but I must say that you are indeed standing before the most suitable person, a recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, an honorary member of the League of Anti-Dark Arts, and five—”

“Thank you, Professor Lockhart, thank you for your concern, but could you please be quiet now?” Before Lockhart could finish speaking, Professor McGonagall rudely interrupted him.

Normally, Professor McGonagall would refrain from saying such things out of consideration for colleagues and her own position, but now... the situation is different.

(End of this chapter)