Evil About the Eyes
Like a thousand other stories, this tale is of a boy named Harry Potter. At the very end of his second year, he descended into the underworld of Hogwarts, bravely did battle with a basilisk, and saved a young maiden.
However, when he made his final stand against the basilisk with sword upraised against the fearsome maw of the great serpent, something went wrong.
Rather than cleaving cleanly through the beast's upper pallet and striking it dead, the sword of Gryffindor went awry after striking one of the plunging fangs - dealing a lesser blow - though still fatal.
Harry too received a less grievous injury, a mere scratch of venomous fang across his arm and a swallowed mouthful of basilisk blood.
The lesser injuries meant that the dying basilisk was able to seek vengeance against her slayer and swallowed the boy whole, meaning to suffocate him within her bulk. Knowing her end was near, she turned and bit clean through her own flesh to prevent him from crawling back up her esophagus after she expired.
Harry writhed, clawing and striking out with hand, foot, and head against the cold, sticky, suffocating mass. He gained nothing though, except sliding farther along the pulsing channel, although the heartbeat driving the movement was beginning to falter. He heard the snake hiss and felt her rear once more, forcing him even farther down as the blind snake took one last try to kill her other enemy by smacking him out of the air.
He was squeezed into a larger chamber before the snake fell back and died and he heard it as he did, the massive heart faltering and stopping entirely. The chamber was only a little stickier than the rest of the snake so far, without any of the burning acid he had feared but what air he had was growing fetid quickly.
He heard Fawkes screech beyond the fleshy prison he found himself in and he called out in return. The bird screamed again, closer and began to sing again. Harry found himself inspired to struggle again, crawling on his stomach through the heavy, slimy darkness. He searched for a way out and found an opening. He forced his head and shoulders into it, kicking out with his legs to push him through. He could only hope he could get out before he suffocated here in the belly of the dead basilisk. His arm burned as he writhed along the tight passage and he struggled to keep trying to breath.
He grew feebler and feebler, venom and lack of good air taking their toll on the exhausted young wizard. Even Fawkes' presence and song could not bring about superhuman feats. Harry found he could not lift his head again, nor kick out to force himself forward. He grit his teeth to try anyway, clawing weakly at the slime coated muscles. Hot tears split from his eyes as he lay in the belly of the beast. It was beyond him to move any farther. His arm hurt so bad, his chest was tight, and his head ached. Harry sobbed out a weak breath and went still.
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Fawkes craned his head, pressing against the scales of the dead snake in an attempt to hear the wizard chick. He heard nothing. He screamed again, though in fury this time. Damn that snake and her master! Her heard a rustle, thud, and groan off to the side. He jumped off the snake and into the air, gliding over to the waking girl-wizard chick. He landed beside her and gently bunted her cheek. "Wake, little wizard chick," he crooned. At least he could save this one.
Patiently, he woke and encouraged the girl enough to get her to move. They left the massive chamber, Fawkes glowing in flight enough to lead the weakened chick out of the chamber. He landed on the rock fall and showed her the gap in the stones. The chick sobbed but obeyed, crawling though and he followed at her heels, head low as he waddled through. He cheered to find two more living humans and taking to the air, he approached the male wizard chick and when the boy held up his arm in fear, swished his tail feathers into the open hand. It closed, feeling something in it and the boy gasped to feel his feet leave the stone floor. The boy fell to the floor when he left go in his shock, but Fawkes was a bird of considerable patience and hovered there. The boy took his feather in hand again and Fawkes lifted him to his feet. Fawkes trilled encouragingly and the boy got the girl-chick and the vain-gold wizard to hold on tight before taking hold himself. Fawkes lifted them gently at first, lest they let go as the boy had, but when they clung tightly, he swept along at a good clip down the tunnel and back up the pipe that the wizards must have come down.
He hurried along, lest the wizards let go, and made his way swiftly to his bright-eyed familiar. The elderly wizard greeted them all with wonder at their return and urged Fawkes to take them to the Hospital wing, and he followed along after them at a quick jog.
There, Fawkes finally let the wizard chicks and vain-gold find their feet and he settled on the railing at the foot of a bed. He crooned to his familiar briefly, when he arrived huffing and puffing.
It was a pity that his familiar could not speak phoenix. He spread his wings again and took off, even as bright-eyes made his phoenix ghost spell to follow him out into the hall. Outside, Fawkes ignited in his traveling magic and the ghost sped down the hall to fetch Minerva and the Weasleys.
Fawkes graced the Chamber with his presence again and he located the items of magic that he knew his familiar would want. The bound skin and leaves, the head-skin, and the sharp-edged cross that had to be yanked from the snake's mouth. He hissed angrily at the dead snake as he approached, landing on the floor and waddling up, wings still raised, just in case it should move again. He pecked at the stone-covered end of the cross that stuck out to see how firmly it was jammed, then yanked on it. He tugged and yanked, beak slipping along the polished stones and metal of the handle but he persevered and the sword came free at last. It almost fell on him and he flamed out of the way as it came slicing down. It managed to cut into the lower jaw this time but was much easier to free and he brought it to his pile of things beside the serpent's belly where he had last heard the brave wizard-chick.
He waited there and listened.
The Chamber dripped and the torches leapt and spluttered, guttering in the faint breeze that swept through the open tunnels. Listening hard, he ignored the whoosh of his own breathing and heart. Tiny noises came from the snake as air escaped from the collapsing lungs and organs. But there was some sort of sound coming from the snake that was not air. Something moved there.
He sprang to his feet and ran farther down the enormous length of the snake corpse, trying to pinpoint the sound. He stared at the scales that flickered from his own anxious glow and the fading light of the dying torches. He came to the serpent's vent, visible by the white dribble of waste that had seeped from it and dried on the dull scales when the snake had expired. The noises were most audible here. Had the wizard-chick made his way out, or nearly? The faint heartbeat did not sound human, nor did the movement sound like it might have come from human limbs. He waited anxiously.
The sound continued. That was his only hope. The sound kept coming, struggling closer and closer. It was not human. It was close enough though, just beyond the scale protected flesh, that he could feel the energy from it and it felt like the wizard chick that he had lost to the snake. Fawkes leap forward and plunged his beak into the exposed vent, tearing at the flesh there, tearing the hole larger. He kept tearing, tugging, slashing at the meat with his claws until the heartbeat sounded only inches from him and he stopped, backing up a bit as he breathed hard and stared.
There! A slip of black spilled out of the blood-drenched tear and onto the floor. It was no human, though it felt like the wizard chick's aura. It wiggled onto its belly and tried to crawl out of the blood and snake waste puddle and Fawkes snatched it up, trying to ignore the fire in his breast that flickered hot in warning of the evil in his beak. Evil was present but he could also feel the wizard-chick within the thing in his beak.
He could feel the also twisted, evil magic of the great Serpent too, although this one was new-born. The fire burned in his heart, urging him to fulfill his duty and slay the Serpent quivering frail in his beak.
He carefully dropped the Serpent as duty beat its drum in his ears and crouched over the black-scaled heap, pressing his feathers and increasing body heat over the living ink spill that was all that was left of the brave-wizard chick.
How was he to get the chick to bright-eyes? His fire would kill the Serpent and he could not carry the slip of life from here lest his beak snap closed or his talons wrench it apart. He crooned as the Snakeling pressed against his belly. He shifted from claw to claw as it moved underneath him, seeking farther warmth, seeking to get away from the heat-stealing, life-stealing cold of the stone beneath them. Fawkes hissed instinctively as it crawled feebly up his tail and onto his back, tiny body sinking beneath his feathers as they rose much like goose-bumps. Duty thundered in his ears, demanding him to kill the Serpent now! To kill it before it could endanger the humans he had chosen to protect.
He stood when he perceived the Snakeling to have settled and sprang into the air, pausing only briefly to catch up the head-skin and cross in one claw and the bound skin and leaves that radiated evil in the other, then with a blaze of light, once again diving down the tunnels, up the pipe, and along the corridors to his familiar.
Candle-light greeted his eyes as he found the white-bearded man in a chair, still in the Hospital wing and he dropped the things into a heap on the floor with a clatter of metal on stone that sent the dozing man and everyone else jolting upright.
The snake he shook out of his feathers on to his familiar's lap and he landed over it, pinning it to his familiar's leg with his body weight. Hopefully bright-eyes would have an idea of what they could do to help their brave wizard chick before the boy opened his bright yellow eyes. If only his familiar could understand him! If only there was a chance to fix this. Fawkes keened, morning already.
The paths before Fawkes were very clear. If the young wizard chick-turned-Great-Serpent accidentally made eye contact with anyone and slew them then Fawkes would have to kill the boy. If Fawkes had to kill the boy because he had accidentally slain someone, Fawkes must then kill himself for murdering an innocent.
And would not then the serpent that lay dead below have the last laugh? Her evil and the child's magic offering the boy a chance to survive, but in the body of her offspring, as a Serpent, the bane of man, so soon to be slain by Fawkes, a protector of man, who must then kill himself for the betrayal. He warbled to his familiar, the bright notes, slow and dragging as the man winced against Fawkes' weight and claws and yelped as the snake wriggled.
Fawkes could only hope that either his familiar grasped the snake over his eyes, or that the snake kept them closed.
The other humans drew near and Fawkes despaired.
What could he do? He would not slay the child before he had done harm, no matter that all he could hear at this point was the horrible clamor of Duty's demands.
Fawkes felt his human catch the snake by its tail, as its head was trying to bury itself in Fawkes' feathers again. He caught the bony wrist in his claw, preventing his familiar from drawing it out from beneath his protective mantling. He felt the snake's head burrowing under his feathers. For now, it would not kill anyone since no one could see its eyes.
Bright-eyes was struggling to understand why his phoenix had a snake. Fawkes could tell and the man's other hand came around.
Fawkes despaired.
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Hours later, the other teachers came looking for the Headmaster, as they had missed him and Minerva. They discovered a ring of dead bodies surrounding a dead phoenix, which still had its beak embedded in in its own neck, having torn it out and gone back for more. Underneath his wing lay a snake with its head torn off, dead yellow eyes staring in surprise at the puddle of blood all around.
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12/6/15 Word Count 2256.