Page 224 - creative spark 2020

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Whatever he planned to do at first, his ideas definitely did
not involve literally walking to Riddle's murder chamber. Voluntarily
at that. He wasn't even calling it that ironically. From what his
memory supplied, Riddle had used his basilisk, a giant serpent
that killed with its stare, to murder a muggle-born by the name of
Myrtle Warren in his fifth year.

In Henry's time, some fifty years in the future from where he
was currently, Riddle had used the same chamber to almost kill
Ginevra Weasley, whom of which thankfully Henry had saved just
in time. And this wasn't including the petrification of multiple
students both in the 1940s and Henry's time. He still remembered
Hermione, one of his best friends, laying on the ground, body stiff
as stone. They thought the petrified students dead when they had
first found them.

Henry also remembered himself being blamed for that.
He scowled at the reminder.

He had reached the second floor's girl's lavatory. Salazar
Slytherin, one of the school's four founders, had built his chambers's
entrance at this very spot, using the humongous pipes of Hogwart's
plumbing system. He didn't bloody know why. Pushing the
irrelevant thought aside, he focused back on the task at hand.
Henry started recounting facts he knew about the chamber. First,
he had to find the sink with the snap shaped tap. Found it. Then, he
had to speak parseltongue, the language of snakes, saying 'Open.'
The floor started cracking, moving the sinks with them to the side
to reveal a deep dark endless hole to the bottom. Henry internally