Harry Potter with Technology System

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Neville joined the group at the table, dragging a chair over. "Good to see you back, Harry. Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without its resident troublemaker."

Harry gasped, "When did I even cause trouble?"

The entire group gave him a deadpan look, as if to say, Seriously? You dare ask that?

"You are the trouble, Harry," Tracey said, smirking. "I'm starting to think the castle just follows you around, waiting to explode."

"It's true," Daphne added, leaning back with a grin. "I'm pretty sure you've got a knack for finding disasters in places most people don't even know exist."

Harry chuckled, not really denying it. "I guess I do have a bit of a reputation. But it's not like I planned for any of this." He glanced around at his friends, taking in their skeptical expressions. "Alright, maybe I do occasionally go out of my way to poke around where I shouldn't. But only occasionally."

"Right," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "And that's why you were just lying unconscious in the hospital wing, with Madame Pomfrey hovering like you'd fallen off the Astronomy Tower."

Harry looked at Pansy, feigning a grave expression. "Don't make fun of falling from the Astronomy Tower, Pansy. My uncle fell from the Astronomy Tower." He kept his tone serious, and for a split second, Pansy looked startled before she caught on.

"Your uncle fell from the Astronomy Tower?" she asked, eyebrows raised, trying to gauge if he was serious.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a straight face, holding her gaze. "Splat. Right onto the Greenhouses. It was a mess." He shrugged casually, then broke into a grin when he saw the disbelief on her face.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're lying," she accused, lightly punching his arm. "You're such a pain, Harry."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm serious. He slipped right off—biggest mess Hogwarts ever saw."

Pansy rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."

Daphne rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "It's a miracle you've managed to stay alive this long. You're worse than Fred and George with your stunts."

The twins both exclaimed at the same time, "Hey! That is rude. We serve to entertain, not kill ourselves."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, sure, because your pranks are completely safe."

Fred leaned back, smirking. "Precisely, Harry. Controlled chaos, that's our brand."

George nodded sagely. "We've got standards, you know. High standards."

"Right. Like the time you set off that swamp in the corridors?" Ginny chimed in, raising an eyebrow.

Fred waved a hand dismissively. "A minor miscalculation. The swamp was very manageable."

"Manageable if you're a duck," Ginny retorted, crossing her arms.

With the rest of the afternoon flying by, Harry made his way back to his dorm, glad to finally head to his own bed after a few days in the hospital wing. He had his own space in the Slytherin dormitory—quiet, undisturbed, and far better than any hospital cot. Though Harry wasn't one to admit it aloud, his bed had a certain appeal after being poked and prodded by Madam Pomfrey.

And not like he could visit the Chamber of Secrets while several pairs of eyes were on him. He would rather go there at night, when the castle was asleep and the chances of running into anyone dropped significantly. The last thing he needed was someone tailing him or asking questions about where he was sneaking off to.

In the middle of the night, when the entire castle was fast asleep, Harry slipped the Invisibility Cloak over his head. The cool fabric settled around him as he stood in the silent Slytherin dormitory. He pulled up the system map, his eyes scanning the small blue dots representing people within Hogwarts. No one seemed to be near the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

Good.

He crept through the halls and took a familiar path toward the second-floor girl's bathroom. The only sound was the faint rustle of the Cloak brushing against his robes. Harry didn't need a lantern—the dim moonlight seeping through the windows was enough. Besides, he knew these corridors by heart.

Once the lift stopped, Harry stepped out. He didn't need to summon Basi immediately. Not yet, at least. He approached the familiar walls, running his fingers along the rough stone, inspecting the faint outline of the Parselrunes. They were still intact, the hidden magic woven within them dormant for now.

"You may come out now."

From the far side of the Chamber, there was a soft rustling sound, followed by the unmistakable slither of scales on stone. The enormous basilisk appeared from the shadows, his yellow eyes veiled behind the protective charm Harry had placed long ago.

"You called, Master?" Basi's voice echoed around the Chamber.

"Yeah. Just checking things," Harry replied, keeping his tone casual. "Any movement?"

"No one has disturbed the Chamber, Heir," Basi hissed. "As the runes state, no one who is not from Hogwarts can enter."

"Good," Harry muttered. "We've got enough to deal with without someone poking their nose down here."

Walking to the center of the chamber where the stairs downward had appeared, Harry glanced at the spiraling descent in front of him. "I'm going down," he said. "Wish me luck, Basi."

The massive basilisk shifted slightly, his body coiling tighter around the base of a stone pillar. "Luck, Master?" Basi hissed, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. "You shouldn't worry. It is your inheritance down there. Once you claim it, you will no longer be just the Heir, but my Master."

Harry smirked. "I'll hold you to that, Basi." He shot a final glance at the basilisk before heading down the stairs. The spiral stairs seemed endless. He could feel the dense pulse of magic getting stronger with each step, as if the deeper he went, the closer he got to something long-hidden, something that had been waiting for him.

After what felt like an eternity, the stairs opened into another chamber, this one smaller and more contained than the one above. The air was different down here—colder, heavier. Runes lined the walls, glowing faintly with green light, but they weren't just any runes. These were the same Parselrunes he had been studying for months, the same script that only a true Parselmouth begin to understand.

Harry walked forward, his eyes scanning the walls. It didn't take him long to spot what he was looking for—a door, concealed behind a layer of magic, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't paying attention. He moved closer, his fingers brushing against the stone as he hissed a few words in Parseltongue. The door shimmered, responding to his voice, and slowly began to open.

Behind the door was a small room, empty except for a pedestal in the center. On top of it sat three items: a diary, a small key—likely to one of the high-security vaults at Gringotts—, and something else—a dark, ornate ring. Harry's eyes flicked to the diary first. Despite its ancient appearance, it was in perfect condition, the thin pages seeming endless as he flipped through them. The writing was in Parselrune, similar to the scripts he had been studying for months.

It wasn't just a journal. As Harry skimmed the pages, he found it filled with more than just Slytherin's thoughts. There were spells he'd never heard of, and even memories—fragments of Slytherin's life, experiments, and rants about magical theory. One entry caught Harry's attention: Slytherin's musings on creating spells through Parseltongue, something Harry had tried but never perfected. He paused, frowning slightly as he read the old wizard's notes, wondering how he could use this knowledge for himself.

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