The sight that met Caelum's eyes as he burst into the ruined labyrinth was nothing short of chaos.
The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets—opened. The floor beneath the sinks cracked open like a maw. And from that black abyss, the presence of something old and angry pulsed upward like waves of static.
And just above the opening—
"Ginny?"
She was slumped against the far wall, pale and unmoving.
A younger girl—Harry's sister, Lily—was beside her, trying with desperate effort to drag her away from the pit's edge, her small frame trembling under the weight. She was gritting her teeth, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead.
But what snapped Caelum's focus next… wasn't them.
It was the boy flying in the chamber below.
Harry Potter.
On a broom. No, more than that—dodging a creature that filled the chamber like a living river of scales and hate. The Basilisk. But this one looked nothing like what Caelum remembered from the books. It was thicker. Its movements more fluid. Its eyes burned beneath armored lids with a faint shimmer of cursed gold, and even from up here, Caelum could feel the mana density radiating from its hide.
And yet—
Harry wasn't just avoiding it. He was attacking.
Spell after spell lashed out from his wand. No incantations. Just raw motion and precision. Crystalline light carved across the serpent's face, one shot narrowly grazing its eye, the next slamming into its flank with a detonation that sent fractured stone flying. The boy was flying tight arcs around its lunges, baiting its strikes like he had done it a hundred times.
"What the hell…"
Caelum stood frozen by the door, mind catching up to what his senses were screaming. That was not something a second-year should be capable of. That wasn't textbook dueling or even instinctive spellwork.
That was combat magic. Refined. Lethal.
Something you earned by fighting and surviving.
Those spells—he's layering elemental bindings into piercing constructs. That's—
The Basilisk roared, tail slamming into the side of the chamber wall. Chunks of ancient stone exploded outward. Harry dove beneath the collapse, twisted in the air, and flung a rotating cluster of glowing blue bolts that embedded in the snake's underbelly. A burst of frost erupted on impact, slowing the monster just enough for him to escape its retaliating snap.
He's not just fighting it. He's controlling the tempo, Caelum thought, stunned. Every move, every dodge—he's done this before. That reaction time… it's beyond human. Even adult wizards can't react like that without years of magical reinforcement training.
And yet, Harry's face showed none of that smugness or joy. Just cold, focused exhaustion. Like this was a job. A responsibility. One he had chosen.
Caelum's gaze flicked back to Lily, who had finally managed to haul Ginny near the wall, sweat dripping from her chin. She wasn't panicking. She was just moving with quiet determination.
He glanced back at Harry—who had just driven the Basilisk back again with a streak of lightning-infused force—and suddenly, a chill settled over him.
This isn't the canon timeline. And he's not the boy who lived.
Because no second-year should be capable of that kind of magic.
No second-year should even survive this.
---
Caelum didn't waste another second.
The girls first.
He raised his hand and summoned his will. No incantation. No wand flourish. Just raw, directed magic molded by Veylan's template.
"Aegis Shift."
The space around Lily and Ginny shimmered for a heartbeat, then blinked them across the chamber floor, depositing them safely beside him in the corridor just beyond the ruined bathroom.
Lily collapsed to her knees, chest heaving. Ginny was still out cold, her face drawn and pale, lips tinged slightly blue.
"Stay with her," Caelum said, already reaching into his robes.
He pulled out two small vials—clear liquid, glowing faintly—and passed one to Lily with the calm of a surgeon.
"Drink half. Pour the rest down her throat. It'll stabilize her magic and blood pressure for now. Then get to the Hospital Wing as fast as you can. Don't look back."
Lily didn't argue. She was too focused. Just nodded and took the potion, cradling Ginny close as Caelum turned back toward the Chamber.
He'd already marked the path with Aether Sense—layers of ambient mana disturbance from the fight below were like a trail of glowing threads.
He sprinted.
Down the stone tunnel. Through the gaping serpent mouth. Into the dark.
No time for hesitation.
The air inside the Chamber proper was dense, almost oppressive. Magic saturated the stonework—ancient, serpentine, and faintly malevolent. The scent of blood and sulfur clawed at the back of his throat.
And then he saw them.
Harry, mid-air, broom jerking sideways as the Basilisk surged upward in a snapping coil. Its eyes were covered now—charmed lids sealed shut, but its jaws were wide and filled with fangs the length of swords.
Harry rolled to avoid being skewered, tossed a blinding flash behind him to slow it, then dove toward a pillar.
Caelum raised both hands.
"Flashbind."
A net of pure white energy snapped into place over the serpent's midsection just as it twisted to follow. It jerked to a halt, the spell slowing its motion by a fraction.
But a fraction was all Harry needed.
He banked right, arcing wide around the chamber and spotted Caelum.
Their eyes met.
Harry's narrowed, not in shock or confusion—but understanding. He'd seen the spell. Measured the effect. And adjusted his next attack accordingly.
He knew exactly how long the bind would last.
Caelum didn't stop.
He hit the ground running toward the Basilisk's side, spell formulae cycling behind his eyes.
His mana reserves were better now—his synchronization at 19.95% had already granted him several minor offensive spells from the template. Not enough to kill this monster. But maybe enough to help Harry do it.
"Arcbolt."
"Frostlace."
"Mana Lance: Hollowpoint."
The spells launched in sequence—electric burst, snaring frost threads, and finally a spiraling spear of compressed aether. They struck just above the Basilisk's right lung, blowing scales apart and searing a deep gouge into its hide.
It screamed.
And now it was looking at him.
Good.
Harry used the distraction perfectly—vaulting over the monster's head and hammering it from above with another barrage of silent spells, the precision almost mechanical.
Caelum's hands trembled from the backlash of pushing too much mana at once, but he didn't stop. He was already preparing the next volley.
This is real combat, he thought. Not a duel. Not a classroom lesson. This is what a life and death situations must have look like. And Harry—
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