Author's Note: (in disturbingly good imitation of John Cleese of Monty Python, considering I am a girl) If you really honestly think that I own any of the tiniest shred of Harry Potterness that I emanate here... Even in quoting Riddle in the Chamber scene... shakes head sadly May God have mercy on your poor sickly brains...
How to read this story:If you can, try to imagine that this story is being narrated by John Cleese (concentrate on the voice, don't worry about his face; for those of you who can't remember who he is, he played King Harold on Shrek 2), while the voice of Harry is being played (for those of you who know who he is) by the man who played Eliza Doolittle's father in My Fair Lady. He could also be played by Val Kilmer in his role as Doc Holliday in Tombstone. (If you don't know the voices of either of these men, I have no further voice suggestions) Tom Riddle gets his own voice from the movie Chamber of Secrets.
Harry looked at the long white fang protruding from his arm. So this is what Basilisk venom feels like, he thought fuzzily. Fawkes, Dumbledores pheonix, landed beside him, crying as it tried to cuddle him.
"Ger'off, dumb bird." Harry muttered, pushing the bird away without much success. Fawkes would not be dissuaded.
He turned his head drunkenly to look at Riddle, who watched with ravenous eyes. His foe was dying now, as he well knew and enjoyed with every fiber of his being. "You're dead, Potter." he said softly, eyes narrowed with sadistic delight. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying." Riddle leaned back against a stone pillar as the bird blubbered and Harry tried to push it away. "I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time, I'm in no hurry."
Harry felt a stab of annoyance penetrate his smoky haze. He crawled over to Riddle, who looked down at him with a strange mixture of fascination and disdain. "Come to beg at my feet, Potter?" he sneered. "I couldn't heal you even if I wanted to."
"No' 'xactly.." Harry slurred through the venom's confusion. He staggered to his feet. "How solid would you say you are, Tommster?" he grinned, swaying slightly.
Riddle, ignoring the nickname, looked over at Ginny's small form lying on the flagstones. "Well, she looks pretty much dead. I must be very solid indeed."
Harry laughed. "Solid enough for this to hurt?" Before Riddle could move, Harry's foot snapped out hard, and connected with its target. Riddle promptly fell over whimpering and gagging. "Thought so." Harry said, as he toppled to the ground, laughing. Watching Riddle crawl pathetically.
His vision started to go black. He dimly heard a little pair of bird feet walking over to him, and the sound of little bird sobs. His arm suddenly felt wet. The pain faded, his mind sharpened, his strength came back. But then, his eyes began to clear. And in his path of eyesight was Tom Riddle on his knees before him and glaring bloody murder.
Harry remembered Dumbledore telling him that pheonix tears had healing powers.
Two words formed themselves on Harry's lips in a groan: "Oh bugger."