It's a weird feeling, having a footlong fang slip into your arm. In actuality, for its size, it slid in surprisingly easily; maybe too easily, but that's beside the point. Oh, it hurt. Of course it hurt. It's no different than a knife or a quick cutting curse stabbing into my arm. On the other hand, I did a lot more damage back. That bloody basilisk didn't know what hit it. A quick sword strike to the brain left a near instant death, with only its muscle spasms to keep it moving.
The funny thing about basilisk venom is what it does; it doesn't just stop your heart, or erode your muscles or anything that a normal snake bite does. Basilisks just have to be all special, and being a snake the size of a bus just isn't enough. The feeling of the venom was weird, like a vacuum pulling on me-no, it was pulling on my magic. It was draining my dry, and there wasn't a thing I could do to stop it. It's a terrifying thought, having my magic pulled bit by bit out of me. It's terrifying in a chilly way, like being stranded outside in winter-you can't really do anything. When I finally pulled the sword out of the roof of the snake's mouth, the fang plunged into my arm stuck. So now I have a dislodged basilisk fang stuck in my arm. This is just great. I barely feel it when I pull it out, it just hurts too much.
All I could feel was the venom, and nothing else mattered. I could feel the drain turn into a pull turn into a rip. It hurt. It hurt like nothing else I have ever felt. It hurt more than breaking my arm in my first year, even more than touching professor Quirrell hurt. Nothing even compared to the drain's pull. I could hear the rush of the water to my sides, feel the cold of the air on my skin, and see the grey stone of Slytherins statue, but none of it mattered to me. The venom was all encompassing, I lived in the pain now, that is, until until I saw the fiery orange hair of one Ginny Weasley lying in front of me in an unconscious heap next to Tom Riddle's diary. Ginny's my mate's sister, and friend, so she is my friend. I protect my friends.
I crawl over to her and look up to the near-solid face of Tom Riddle, a gleeful smirk reaching all the way to his warm eyes. I can see how everyone believed in him, with that kind of natural charisma and self confidence. Even knowing what he was and what he would become, he felt trustworthy.
"You've lost, Harry. In just a few short moments, I will be whole and Lord Voldemort will return to power, " the young Tom said at a near whisper. "All thanks to this one young girl, one you can't save. Know that as you die down here, alone."
I can feel myself getting angrier and angrier at his words, each one biting into me as the basilisk did before. I want to hurt him like he hurt my friends, and I can't let him get out of here. He comes from the diary, so I have to get rid of that. I don't have my wand, but I do have a large fang soaked in the most potent venom in the magical world, so I do the only logical thing: I set my shoulders, lunge towards the book, and plunge the fang straight into the middle.
In an instant, Tom starts screaming and writhing in place, and the diary screeches with him in a high pitched, almost childlike voice. In his chest a black, smokey hole had split him open, just as I had stabbed the diary. I knew that just as the venom had pulled at me, it pulled at Tom ten times harder. With the dang still lodged into the diary, I look up at face of the future Dark Lord. The shift in his eyes as that warmth turned to shock was unquestionably satisfying. As the screech of the book became quieter, so too did Tom fade until both completely disappeared. The last look on his face was one of immense terror.
Despite the quickly growing pain, I slowly slump over to Ginny and collapse onto my good arm. She can't be dead. She just can't. I won't let her die, no matter what. I try my best to pull Ginny over my shoulder and carry her, but I can't even close my hands into a fist to grab her. Everything just hurts too much, like my soul is being pulled out of my arm. Can I even do this? I'm losing any hope of pulling her out of here. It just hurts, like a ice cold spike being plunged constantly into my arm and pulled out,getting colder after every stab. I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die! I don't want to die! I don't want Ginny to die, or Ron, or even professor Lockhart. Please, anyone! Come help us! I can't let my friends die here!
Suddenly, I hear a gentle flapping, and Fawkes quietly drops down next to me. What is he doing? I can see his eyes tearing up, is he mourning for me? A single tear slowly trickled down his beak, and hung on the tip for only, a second before dropping right onto the bite wound.
Relief. Pure relief from the drain bled into my wound and closed it up. It felt infinitely better than before. I could feel the slight tingle of my magic returning, like when your arm goes numb, and the numbness goes away. I could see and hear and feel and focus again!
Something just feels wrong though, like I'm empty. My magic is back, but it feels like something else is gone. The greys feel a little duller and the sounds are blander; but I'm alive, and I can save my friends. That's what's important to me right now. I can deal with this feeling later.
Fawkes turns away from us and motions his tail feathers towards us to grab onto. Didn't Hermione say that Phoenix's have the ability to carry heavy objects? Well, it's my only option. I scoop up the Sword of Gryffindor and the sorting hat, grab onto Ginny, and take hold of the tail feathers.
Like magic, everything immediately became weightless; Ginny, the sword, the hat, everything. Without any apparent effort, Fawkes flapped his wings and began to soar, pulling us all forwards towards the exit of the chamber. We soared through the cavern and pipes leading up to Ron and the professor, stopping shortly to pick them up and continue flying up to the surface.
With a soft landing into the girl's bathroom, we landed. With the danger gone, and us safe, I finally collapsed and saw tunnel vision until everything went dark.