Jason, Annabeth, Harry, and Ron slipped out of the staffroom, silently. Ron's legs weren't working right and Annabeth had to support him. They sat in the common room, unable to speak.

"She knew something, Harry," Ron said, speaking for the first time. "That's why she was taken. She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That's why she was taken. I mean, she was a pureblood, there can't be any other reason." His voice quavered madly.

"We should go see Lockhart," Jason said suddenly. "At least tell him what we know. If he's going to try and get in the Chamber, he might as well get a lead."

They nodded grimly before slipping out and walking silently to Lockhart's room. Harry knocked quietly, and the door creaked open.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Grace, Ms. Chase— I'm rather busy at the moment, if you'd be quick—"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," said Harry. "We think it'll help you."

"Er— well, it's not terribly— I mean— well— all right," He opened the door and they slipped inside.

The office had almost been completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor, another one next to it, already packed. Robes of all colors had been folded into it, books jumbled untidily next to them. The photographs covering the walls were tightly wound in a pile on his desk.

"You're running away," Annabeth said coldly, straight to the point.

"Urgent call— unavoidable— got to go—"

"What about my sister?" Ron snapped jerkily.

"Well as to that—most unfortunate—" he wrenched open a draw and tipped the entire contents into another suitcase. Jason spotted the revolting feather-quill pen in the pile. "No one regrets more than I—" he continued.

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Harry protested. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well I must say, when I took the job— nothing in the description— didn't expect—"

"After all that stuff you did in your books?" Ron managed to roll his eyes at Harry, though he was still shaking with anger.

"Books can be misleading!" Lockhart cried vaguely.

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, matching Ron. "Harry, isn't it obvious?" She jabbed her wand at Lockhart, eyes narrowing dangerously. "He's a fraud."

"Precisely, Ms. Chase." Lockhart said, shoving more socks in a side pocket. "I mean, no one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover— no sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on—"

"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" Ron roared incrediously.

"Ron, Ron, it's not as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them how they managed to do what they did, which was quite easy, by the way—" his gaze drifted to Jason. "—then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself in, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long, hard slog."

Annabeth walked closer, the end of her wand hovering over Lockhart's robes. "You charmed them into telling what you wanted them to say," she said menacingly. "And I suppose you found it quite easy?"

Lockhart broke out into a smile, though it seemed forced. "My my, your mother's traits do pass down, don't they?" Annabeth's eyes narrowed, and in the blink of an eye, replaced her wand with her knife. The tip flicked upward, barely missing his chin.

"Annabeth?" Harry was looking from her to Lockhart.

"Jason, he's got godly blood in him," Annabeth said, pulling away.

Lockhart smiled again. "Gilderoy Lockhart, legacy of Venus" he said, bowing slightly. "My mother, a daughter of Venus, was gifted with Charmspeak, as that Slytherin girl Piper has. A bit passed down to me, not much, but enough for people not to be suspicious. Besides, where do you think my looks came from?" He tilted his profile, smiling as if he were posing for the front cover of a newspaper article. "Anyways, we're getting off track. I do believe— I am sorry— but I have to put a Memory Charm on you. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book—"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry bellowed, as Lockhart pulled out his wand. Lockhart was blasted backwards, his wand went flying— Jason caught it and tucked it in his robes.

"Shouldn't have let Snape teach us that one," Harry said, furiously kicking a suitcase aside. Lockhart scrambled backwards, looking as pathetic as when he did in the staffroom.

"What d'you want me to do?" He asked weakly. "I don't know anything."

"You're in luck," Annabeth said, raising her dagger again. "We do. Let's go."

They marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

When they entered, Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet. "Oh, it's you," she said mournfully when she saw them. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," Annabeth said.

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she'd never been asked such a flattering question.

"Oooh, it was dreadful!" she said with relish. "It happened right here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard someone come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must've been. Anyways, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then—" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" asked Ron.

"No idea," Myrtle said in a hushed tone. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away..." she floated up dreamily as if they'd forgotten what floating was. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

Jason straightened his own glasses.

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" asked Harry cautiously.

"Somewhere there," Myrtle said, pointing vaguely to the sink in front of the toilet.

It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, even the pipes below. Then Harry leaned closer to the side of the tap and pulled back suddenly. Jason peered closer— scratched into the side of the tap was a tiny snake.

"The tap's never worked," Myrtle said, amused, as Harry tried to turn it.

"Harry, say something. In Parseltongue." Ron was standing some distance away from the sink, as if it was a nuclear bomb.

"Open up," Harry said before looking at them for confirmation. They all shook their heads.

Harry took a deep breath and squinted his eyes slightly. Then he hissed, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin, then the sink began to move; in fact sank right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

Annabeth stepped back from the gaping black hole, shaking.

"You can go first," she said, gesturing to Lockhart with her knife. Lockhart had backed against a stall and was even whiter.

"What good will it do?" he asked, approaching the opening. "I really don't think—"

Jason gave a mighty shove, sending him down the pipe. Then Harry followed, then Ron.

Annabeth squared her shoulders. "I can do this," she muttered, and with a start, Jason realized how much of this year must've reminded her about her quest, and Tartarus. First the giant spiders, now a hole that leads to an underground place that held monsters?

"It's okay," he said, stepping up to the entrance. "You can stay here, if you want."

Annabeth sent him a glare before shaking her head. "No, I can do this. I'm a daughter of Athena. I've faced worse."

Jason shrugged before slipping into the pipe, sliding down into the darkness. Behind him, he could hear Annabeth at the entrance.

It was like sliding down a dragon's throat. Everything was dark and slimy, twisting and turning. Then the pipe leveled out and he shot to his feet, twisting to the side as to not hit Harry.

"We must be miles under the school" Harry said as he stood up, his voice echoing around. Jason turned and saw Annabeth plummeting out, her face devoid of any emotion. But a slight shaking of her hands told Jason enough. He took a step back, not trusting Annabeth's control over her knife. She might accidentally impale his face.

"Let's go." Harry lit his wand and they followed him through the darkness.

"Remember," Jason warned them. "Any sight of movement, and close your eyes right away."

They kept going, crunching on small animal bones and rocks. Then Ron stopped suddenly. "There's something up there," he said hoarsely.

Jason squinted and spotted the outline of something huge and curved, about forty feet long, lying right in their path. But it looked too flimsy to be the Basilisk—

"It's just the skin," Annabeth assured them, prodding it with her knife.

Ron gulped. "Just the skin. Right."

There was a sudden thump from behind them- Lockhart's knees had given way. "Get up" Ron said sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart. Lockhart got to his feet— and dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground. Jason grabbed at his gladius, but it was too late, Lockhart was standing up triumphantly, Ron's wand in his hand.

"The journey ends here, boys!" His eyes glimmered in Harry's wandlight. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you four tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body— say goodbye to your memories!"

Jason tightened the grip on his sword.

"Obliviate!"

There was a bang and a loud flash of light; Jason ducked and rolled to avoid the spell, pushing Harry out of the way— then the cavern gave in and the ceiling collapsed.

Jason found himself staring at a wall of rock. "Annabeth?" He called. The tip of her dagger peeked through a crack in the rocks and began to turn, but stopped suddenly. "Not here," she muttered. "It's unstable— the foundation of the cavern's already crumbling—"

"Blimey," Ron's voice came in amazement. "This git just got blasted by his own wand."

There was a dull thud and a low "ow!" It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

"You guys, go on ahead! I'll figure out how to get this away— you save Ginny, we're fine," Annabeth's voice was muffled through the rocks. Harry looked at Jason and they both shrugged.

"Fine," Harry called. "Wait here. I'll go on— if we're not back in an hour—"

"We'll try and clear a path," Ron promised. "Jason— Harry—"

"See you in a bit," Harry replied, and they set off in the long, dark trail.