He won. The snake was dead. He had won, but a heavy cost. Harry could feel the Basilisk Venom coursing through has veins; Fawkes had come too late to save him. Even as he could see the phoenix trying to save his life, the venom had spread too far into his body for him to live now, and he knew it.
He was going to die.
Xx- Scene Change-xX
An old Lich was going about doing what it could to keep the Mindless Ones in check.
The Mindless Ones if not contained would run rampant and kill everything in their path. But because of the 'New' king's orders, even after fifty thousand years, that keep it sealed in place the ancient being could do nothing but think and exert a mental control on the ones also locked in this tomb.
If it could, the eldritch being would have screamed at the unfairness of it all. Charged by its master Kel'thuzad to watch over the Royal line, only to be sealed away by the self-righteous 'New' king and what was left of his ally's. The fool had thought it could be the jailer for the dammed. No, he was no king. At best he was a regent, and at worst, an upstart. The punishment for such a thing was True death. The heir to the throne was out there it could feel it.
