Chapter 2
There was nowhere to go but onwards. To face this supposed Basilisk. In the deepest back of his brain he thought... Maybe this was the time to do it for real. Gilderoy is not a hero. But he is well-read. Funny, perhaps, that the very year he should arrive at the school they should face the dreaded basilisk of Sa- uh, Salvymhrhjhmshter Slytherin. Because in all the old tales and ancient memories of the days when wizards (yes even wizards) fought like beasts amongst all the other animals - old wives tales of remedies to all of the world's monsters - lingered. Gilderoy had read them all. And of all the horrors of legend the basilisk was what Gilderoy Lockheart was most fascinated with.
He knew it was in the school. He read that on the wrapper of an obscure Turkish candy which had a fun fact and flavour pairing suited exactly to your taste and interest irrespectively. He was maybe eight years old? By the time he was fifteen he had more than just a legend. He had a copy of Slytherin's blueprints. All along he had known exactly where the monster slept, but with the chamber being opened it would be too suspicious to share his rare knowledge. Some of the staff and many students suspected Harry of opening the chamber. Gilderoy suspected rather that Harry was the target. None of the staff suspected him of course. They thought it must be another student... Not a chance. Severus Snape is the one to open secret chambers, and if ever he had a mortal enemy it was plain that his enemy was, for whatever reason, Harry Potter. Snape is of course a death eater, but that doesn't bother noble Gilderoy to any extent of slight. Basilisks are something else entirely.
Basilisks do have one very potent weakness. The scent of a weasel renders them strangely helpless. Weasels themselves will try to attack a Basilisk whenever they can, even though they never eat the carcasses nor inhabit their lairs. In fact weasels usually make an attempt to fill in the creature's lair with all the scorched earth that lies around their holes, burned by the evil that lives amongst the roots. If this doesn't happen nothing will grow upon the poison terrain, though legends say the first Phoenixes might have been born from filled in basilisk lairs. Gilderoy and his two idiot companions were approaching the main chamber, the masterpiece of design that no eyes would ever set foot on. The secret room of Salazar Slytherin!
"Alright Harry. I suspect that this is a trap laid for you and you alone. I don't want to sound unimpressive but not all of us can handle a killing curse to the forehead." Gilderoy smiled his award winning smile. Harry didn't react.
"Anyways Harry," Gileroy continued, "why don't you go on ahead? Just see what's out there."
"Is this your bedroom?" Harry asked awkwardly before awkwardly wandering into the great chamber beyond.
The black waters shine like mirrors in the faint green light that seems to spring from the air itself. The carved heads of snakes, twenty feet tall, line the sides row on row, mouths unhinged and great granite teeth poised above flowing forked tongues. They seem to lick their own reflections as they hover above the water. And past each pair a smooth surface like glass passing arrow-straight through the magic room, leading on to the masterpiece of Slytherin, a carved head, bearded, shouting, with snakes twisting from the grey skull. The savage faces rises up from a smattered pool, and overlooks the body of a red-haired girl, lying as though struck down. Standing just a few paces away is Tom Riddle.
"Harry. At last. You're too late to save her you know. In just moments my spell will be complete. She will be dead. But I will return, fed by her waning strength."
"Is this your bedroom?"
"It's no u- eh, what now?"
"Who are you again?"
"I'm lord Volde- er I mean. I am Tom Riddle. Actually to hell with it. I am lord Voldemort. As a sixteen year old."
"Lord who?"
This conversation went on for some time. Lord Voldemort had been looking forward to revealing his secret evil identity to Harry and observing his dismay at the death of his future wife. But the more he tried to boast his victory the more he realized that Harry had forgotten all about lord Voldemort, and Tom Riddle found himself impatiently having to explain to Harry just about 50 years of world history, not to mention how he killed Harry's parents and how Harry had thwarted him in the last movie. Needless to say this took a while - and Gilderoy sprung into action.
Swimming gracefully under the water that lined the side of the chamber, Gilderoy managed to sneak behind the furious Dark Lordling. He drew his wand...
"Stupefy!"
His spell missed! Tom Riddle dove out of the way and the curse struck Harry, though he was already so dumb it had almost no effect.
"Is this your bedroom?" Harry began again.
Tom Riddle yelled in rage. He would have to explain everything to Harry all over again! Also he now had to deal with this handsome, soaking wizard.
"Fuck this. Basilisk time!" Tom Riddle screamed in Parceltongue.
From the mouth of the great statue came the fearsome Basilisk to the call of its master. The horror! It had the head and tail of a snake, but the body was that of a gigantic chicken, and long swooping feathers flowed from its serpentine tail. But Gilderoy was prepared. As soon as the janitor's cat was petrified (that's not an expression - that actually did happen) Gilderoy had wizired to his tailor and request a very fine new set of cloaks. Made of course from the Basilisk's bane - weasel. His coat would protect him for a time. The basilisk would surely kill the other non-weasel clad figures before it dared turn its attention to him. The only danger now was the thing's eyes. Of these Gilderoy was very fearful, for his fame had taught him the importance of eye contact if nothing else.
But what was that! A red flash, swooping down from the dark ceiling. A phoenix! There was something in its talons... A leather bag or somesuch, no doubt containing some kind of weapon. It dropped the bag at Harry's feet before swooping on the basilisk, clawing out its eyes!
"No! What is your bird doing?" Tom Riddle asked angrily, still talking to Harry even though it was obvious Harry had no sense of ownership toward the phoenix.
"Well, my basilisk may not be able to see you. But it can still hear you!" Tom said, lamely trying to save face.
