A/N Heyy all! Yes, this piece is going to be written in chronological order. Yes, I have started the major piece I shall be working on; 'tis going to be of the Artemis Fowl fandom, for those of you interested. So, this piece shall be a seven-shot… Enjoy!

Disclaimer: It's just the thoughts that belong to me, as well as some of the characterizations. As for the direct quotes: there come from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, pages 320-322. It's only the dialogue that I copied word for word. Without further ado, enjoy!

Harry dodged the basilisk's first lunge, throwing himself on the floor. He breathed a quick sigh of relief; safe for the moment. That was his mistake. He allowed himself to relax.

Pain. Sheer, white, blinding pain enveloped him like a blanket. Harry squinted his eyes shut and thrust up with the sword of Godric Gryffindor, pushing as hard as he could. Harry felt the basilisk twitch as it fell to the floor. He didn't look at his arm in fear. He wasn't even sure if his arm was part of him anymore; it felt like someone had cut it off, but the phantom arm still hurt.

The room spun; Harry was fighting to keep conscious. He couldn't. There was no way he could survive a basilisk bite. But I must try, he thought. He gripped the fang with his good hand and gave it a good wrench, pulling it free of his arm. His arm hurt so much that he couldn't even feel the pain he should've felt from removing the fang.

Harry's vision was fading; everything was turning blurry. I'm not going to survive, he thought sadly. But he had done it. He had killed the basilisk; no one else would be killed by it or be haunted by it. There was only one thing Harry wanted to do before he died.

"Fawkes," he said thickly, "you were fantastic, Fawkes…" The enormous bird laid its majestic head on his arm. Harry wanted to hold her close, but he couldn't, his good arm starting to hurt as well as the poison spread throughout his body.

"You're dead, Harry Potter. Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying," Tom Riddle sneered. Harry couldn't help but look to see if, indeed, the bird was crying. He watched milky white tears fall from Fawkes's eyes. He remembered something, a thought, but it wasn't coherent.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take you time. I'm in no hurry," Riddle drawled. Harry didn't want to listen to this. He just wanted to sleep, he just wanted to get out of this place. I couldn't even save Ginny, he thought sadly. He couldn't imagine how Ron would feel about that.

"So ends the famous Harry Potter. Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry… She brought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must…"

If this is dying, Harry thought, completely ignoring Riddle's empty words, it's not so bad. Harry could feel the life slipping from him. Or was that the pain? Then something changed; he could see clearer, he could think without struggling… What was happening here?

"Get away bird. Get away from him— I said, get away—" Riddle said. Harry was confused at this; what had Fawkes done? Riddle sent up a loud noise, scaring Fawkes away from Harry. She flew off in a whirl of feathers. "Phoenix tears… Of course… healing powers… I forgot…" Riddle said, an awed look on his face. It quickly vanished as he caught sight of Harry again. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter… you and me…" Riddle raised the wand in his hand, about to perform a curse.

Just as he was about to emit his last breathe, Harry saw Fawkes flying above him. She dropped something in his lap… The diary, Harry thought. Suddenly it made sense to him. Harry knew what he had to do. He grasped hold of the basilisk fang and looked at Riddle for a moment. Riddle made a move towards him, knowing what he was about to do. There was no hesitation as Harry stabbed the diary with the fang. He wrenched and twisted the fang, making sure that the diary would be completely destroyed. The result of this surprised him. There was a long, shrill scream and ink poured over his hands, but Harry did not dare let go. He watched Riddle scream, and, finally, he disappeared. Not so much disappeared as blew up. Harry kept his hold on the fang for a moment. He finally let it go, not realizing how tightly he'd been grasping it.

He'd gone. Tom Riddle was gone, never to haunt anyone again. Harry felt a strange sense of relief after destroying the diary; something had been lifted from his shoulders, though he wasn't sure what it was. He looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes in triumph. He grabbed the diary in one hand, the sword in the other and got up.

I'll be alright; so will Ginny, he thought. And for the first time that night, he felt safe.

A/N Thoughts? Comments? Critiques? Leave them in a review, s'il vous plait! Merci. Bisous ~ the shattered star