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Chapter 25: Fighting the basilisk

Gilderoy Lockhart was, to the unseeing eyes, the perfect wizard. At 32, his smile was making witches all swoon and his books were the perfect tool to celebrity.

But as a student, Lockhart had never been recognized for his genius or talent. Back when he was a first year and had been sorted into Slytherin for his ambition, he had seen what popularity was like. Narcissa Black was the epitome of grace, talent and popularity, all at once. She had been a first year then, and Gilderoy Lockhart had been impressed by her aura. He had thus decided to thrive for more power to reach, and surpass, one day her level. She had everything and now it was his turn.

It turned out Gilderoy was not as magical as his others peers though. Very quickly he had been made fun of, his own year-mates had picked on him for being an almost squib and soiling the name of the noble house of Slytherin. Oh, these had been lonely years. But his ambition had not dwindled. Far from it, it had worsened. His thirst for people's attention never ceased to grow, but his good looks could only take him so far.

His writing skills were about the only thing he was being praised for. And that had been because he had put a lot of work into that skill. Since he could not work with his wand very well, he could use his quill just fine. And story subjects never fled his imagination. But his ego was far stronger, and he slowly started to write himself as the unsung heroes of before.

From the very first stories, his books had been best-sellers. People had fought just to read it. And that had spurred Gilderoy to write even more, to the point, his imagination had slowly reached its ultimate capacity. It had not been enough. And then, came his genius idea. Why not stole the story from very capable wizard? He would just had to cast an obliviation spell to make them forget they ever lived the story. Oh, and he was so very good with that spell. It almost felt like he was born to wield the spell, like it had been custom-made for his needs.

But the jeers never really stopped.

On the sides, wizards had been jealous, or they had smelt the dragon's dung, as old Barnaby would say. But Gilderoy had shipped them to the jealous sort. He was having the best days of his life, there was no question about ever going back to his teenage years.

But now, he was sorely being reminded of his ineptitude in using magic.

Why did I choose to become the DADA teacher?

The answer escaped Gilderoy's mind. And here, as he was lounging in the teacher classroom, a notification about another attack shook him to the core. He made up his mind on the spot. He was not staying one more minute in this crazy Castle. He had not signed to risk his life for stupid little children who could not think farther than their noses.

"I know who's responsible of all that trouble!" dramatically shouted the man in the teacher classroom, waiting for adoring wizards and witches to beg him to tell a name. It never came. The teachers were all minding their own business, either talking about the match and switching to the new attack or already leaving to take care of students.

Only Minerva McGonagall stared him down like he was some dirt on her boot. Which he had no doubt the witch thought. Truth to be told, the witch always cowed him, even when he had been a child and she had already been his teacher.

"Why don't you go chase him down and arrest him then?" she snickered.

Gilderoy's never-ending smile waned. He hated these kinds of attitude. But his pride had been touched. He would leave with all his dignity. And never tell anyone he was simply leaving the Castle before people got slaughtered in a good blood bath.

"I am going right now." He stifled

As soon as the door had closed on Gilderoy's back, the wizard hurried along the corridors. There was no telling the real Heir was down here, lurking in a dark alcove and waiting to attack him. And since the corridors were deserted because of the alert, the Castle seemed creepier than ever. And what unnerved the wizard even more was the lack of response from the Castle itself.

The entity and him have always been at odds. Thinking back on it, it had almost been endearing when the pranks had not been a reminder of how useless he was at using magic. But tonight, the Castle was not hampering the DADA teacher from leaving its ground. Which was a first Gilderoy lockhart was not about to leave.

"Are you sure the entrance to the Chamber's there?"

Gilderoy froze.

He recognized these voices. He knew them by heart. This was Ronald Weasley and his side-kick, the not so great Neville Longbottom.

"This is where we've found Filch's cat! I'm telling you the entrance must be around here!"

Oh, yes. Gilderoy was definitely right. And his guts were also telling him there was some very nice story there.

His mind was made up in a quarter of a second. He was tailing the two boys for the grand finale of the famed Chamber of Secrets. Since the Castle was being unresponsive, he would seize this grand opportunity. Nobody would care about two poor children anyway, and he could claim the dizzying thoughts to be the result of an old wayward spell …

Gilderoy stopped right in front of the girl's bathroom where the two boys had come in. He waited, listening closely to the conversation in case the two decided to go back on their steps.

"Try to go look for some symbol that could take us to the Chamber. Anything." Came the high pitched voice of Neville Longbottom.

"Under the sinks!" shouted his friend.

"Is that …"

"Yeah! It's a snake! Come on! Try to speak parseltongue to it!"

"Uh … what do I say?"

"Anything!"

"Open."

Nothing happened.

"That was not parseltongue." Grunted Ron, "Try again. And focus back to when Malfoy conjured the snake."

"Alright. Open."

Gilderoy almost danced in joy. The boy had hissed some pretty words in the snake tongue at a sink, and now, the whole bathroom was trembling. Something was happening, and he itched to know what it was. So Gilderoy did not wait. He was a full-grown wizard and could make decisions for himself. Thank you very much.

"NO ONE MOVES!" he shouted, taking the two children by surprise.

The wizard had pointed his wand to Ron, who was shaking in his boots, his own wand laid on the ground. As hostage, Gilderoy took Ron and made a sign with his wand to force Neville to look at the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets.

Still in awe and surprise, the two students had no time to really consider Lockhart's coming, and the teacher rather liked it that way. He was not complaining. As he looked at the once circle of sink that now were a huge hole on the ground, a nasty smell escaped the pipe. The three people exchanged disgusted looks and it would not be the adult's prowess in magic that would help them at all.

"I don't think I'm going to stay like this for long, now." Muttered Neville, "That pipe smells like it has not seen real air in centuries."

"Mind you, that's probably the case." Mumbled Ron, still embed in Lockhart's arms.

Gilderoy did not care for the two ramblings. He pointed his wand to Neville and forced him down the hole. With no other warning than a scathing glare, the boy went down. It was only when he heard the satisfying sound of a body hitting the ground (and he voice of the boy), that Gilderoy was satisfied enough to himself go down. What he had not anticipated was Ron throwing his weight down the hole and drag him in his fall.

"How dare you?!" he grunted between his teeth as the two boys whispered some words he could not make out. His wand was still drawn. "You're not useful to me anymore. Oblivia-"

The white spell was burning the tip of his wand, but he was cut off by some weight on his back. The two boys in front of him had not moved yet, so Lockhart was seriously beginning to fear for his life. What was that thing on his back?!

"Who are you?" he screamed, his wand tip lighting up this time to allow a better view.

The sight that met him would be seared in his brain for the years to come. It was one of the missing student, more exactly Nymphadora Tonks, in muddy Hufflepuff robes.

"Petrificus Totalus." She simply said, her eyes unfocused.

Lockhart avoided the spell by a small margin. But the time it took hampered him from defending himself. This time both Gryffindor students he had blackmailed into going down were pointing their wands to Lockhart, the red spell of an Expelliarmus and Stupefy threatening to get loose.

"No!"

But it was too late, and Lockhart ended up stupefied and wandless.

"Yes! Nev', we did it! Hey Tonks, you're here too!" exclaimed Ron in an excited whisper.

But both boys realized then Tonks was not behaving normally either. Her wand was still drawn, and this time she was targeting the two boys.

"We don't stand a chance against her, do we?" wondered Neville, remembering she was a fifth year student..

Ron just took his arm and led him into the tunnel without any other explanation than : "Run!"

They did so. Breath-less, it felt like the two boys had been running for hours. The only way to tell Tonks was still following them was the tell-tale signs of thunder-lights, vestiges of the spells the fifth-year was casting.

"Shit! What is that?" cursed Ron as the boys tumbled on a huge pile of something.

Neville took the time to examine it.

"I think … it's a skin's shed."

Ron and him looked at each other clearly mortified.

"It means we're on the good tracks, right?" tried to encourage Ron. "Let's go before Tonks comes back."

"What happened to her?" briefly wondered Neville. Ron shrugged. "Her eyes were all ... hazy."

"I think … my dad told me about that spell. It's the Imperio, an Unforgivable. The caster controls the victim …"

Neville tried to breathe in a long while without puking – the air smelt putrid – and hurried Ron with him behinf the skin's shed.

"We'll try to hinder her. You know, send stupefies at the same time."

Ron agreed.

Prepared as they were, Tonks stood no chance when she came in their part of the tunnel, wearing no shield. She took full on the stupefies and stayed still. Neville and Ron both left their hide and looked sadly at their older friend.

"Let's hurry to save her too." Mumbled Neville. "Whoever spelled her must be the Heir."

Ron just forlornly bobbed his head, following Neville in the deep tunnel. Soon, the two boys ended up on a sealed door with a snake's head on it. It did not take them many minutes to realize Neville needed to speak Parseltongue once more.

"Open." Said once more Neville, hissing the word in the snake tongue on the first try.

The door opened by a small snaked weaving some nice runes o the door. But the scene it opened on was a nightmarish sight for Ron.

"Ginny!" he screamed with the mightiest volume he could.

Ron rushed to the fallen girl's side.

Ginny, for it was her, was lying on the floor of a huge chamber. No doubt it was the Chamber of Secrets. The room in itself was dimly lit by torches, the ceiling was unseeable and the only noticeable landmark was the huge statue of what Neville assumed to be Salazar Slytherin. He was carved into the rock from head to toe. The huge wizard was looking down on them – the glare was meant to cower the students coming in, Neville was sure.

The room was flooded too, noticed the boy. He did not tarry any longer in the entrance. Hurrying next to Ron, he tried to shake awake Ginny too.

She was pale. Paler than he had ever seen the girl be.

"She won't wake up." Said a male voice behind the two boys.

As a whole they turned back to the new voice. A man, a Slytherin man was standing a feet away from them. He probably was a sixth or seventh year.

"What have you done to her?!" demanded Ron, wand drawn.

Neville then noticed the wand the Slytherin boy was twirling in his hand was Ginny's. And that the man in question seemed to falter in and out of reality. His gazed stayed solely on Neville, ignoring Ron completely.

"Ha, you noticed."

"What are you?" simply asked Neville, wand drawn too in case of a fight.

"Let's be polite here." Began he boy, taking a few steps in their direction, "My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Impossible." Said Ron, "You're dead. You're supposed to be dead. Or not to be that young. You were a prefect 50 years ago!"

The man looked troubled at these words.

"Really? Oh well. It's your turn now, to introduce yourselves."

"We don't have time!" yelled Ron, "What have you done to my sister?!"

The man looked at Ron with anger behind his eyes.

"Sister? I gather you must be a Weasley too, then. Your dimwit sister poored her heart in my journal." Neville noticed the black journal laying down next to Ginny, "The fool let me control her."

"You!" shouted Ron, but he was cut off by Neville.

"You're a memory sucking on her life to take form." He realized from Ginny's paleness and Tom's flickering form.

"Better yet." Smiled the boy. He took Ginny's wand and formed letters out of it. Each letter for his name was spelled out. With a lazy swish of his hand the letters rearranged themselves. They slowly formed the anagram I am Lord Voldemort.

Ron and Neville froze.

"I knew it." Whispered Ron with a quiver in his voice, "Riddle … that was the same name than Quirrel's tag …", the boy was shaking, "All this time and we knew ..."

Neville was beginning to panick. Ron and him were pressed by time and had to fight against a Dark Lord's memory.

"I gather from what that girl wrote in my journal that you are Neville Longbottom. The boy who defeated me!" thundered the boy.

But Ron had another idea than to let the man rant. He let out a red spell Voldemort's memory easily avoided.

"What have you done to our friends? Bael and Tonks?"

It certainly stopped Voldemort. But he was annoyed now.

"Shut up. I needed a more competent wizard than your sister, and it was just fortunate that your dear Bael realized what was happening sooner than any other one. But his other friend got stucked into it too. I used them well. They must be lurking around, now."

Neville and Ron released a breath they did not know they were holding.

"What do you want? Release them and let us go!" demanded Neville, his voice shaking.

The memory snickered.

"Never. You, a boy, defeated me, the greatest wizard to have ever lived. You deserve to die. Oh Greatest of the four Founders, Salazar Slytherin, open the path." Hissed in Parseltongue Voldemort to the founder's statue.

"Hide!" shouted Neville, knowing full well the basilisk that Hermione had deduced the monster to be, was coming. "And don't let it look into your eyes!"

"I know!" shouted back Ron, looking at the floor, his wand tightly pressed into his hand.

"Not so fast!" shouted Voldemort, wand raised somewhere off, "I command thee, kill the Weasley." Whispered the memory.

Neville could not resist. He lifted his eyes to see Bael's form, just as muddy as Tonks – appear. His wand was drawn and ready to fire a green spell towards Ron.

"Don't!" screamed Ron, "Resist!", he ducked under the green spell his once best friend sent his way.

Neville did not see what happened next. From the statue of Salazar Slytherin, the basilisk had finally come out. And Voldemort's orders were pretty clear.

"Kill the boy over there." He hissed.

Neville ran for his life, head down, trying to avoid he huge basilisk. From time to time, he would throw spells, but Neville honestly feared to touch one of his friend by mistake.

People were shouting already. Bael and Ron were engaged in a fierce duel, realized Neville, throwing spells he did not know what the incantation was for. The only tell-tale heat level reaching new heights told him they were throwing around fire spells.

The basilisk was not bothered by it though.

"he's hiding down there." Pointed Voldemort to his creature, unbothered by the duel taking place at all.

Neville felt his heart rush. Voldemort was right on one thing. He was hiding down the aisle. More exactly in an alcove he knew the basilisk could not reach. From the reflection on the floor, he had seen the beast, or its size.

How am I going to defeat that thing?

A blast was heard in the Chamber, diverting the basilisk from its main task, which was to find and kill Neville. The boy in question took the opportunity to leave, trying to lead the basilisk away from his friends.

"You stand no chance against the mightiest beast." Said the memory, "soon, I will take form and Ginny Weasley will be but another corpse."

Neville gritted his teeth. Oh, he knew very well he stood no chance against a basilisk. He could not even look at the creature without being killed!

Out of the blue, a slight cry from a bird was heard. Neville looked up to see Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, holding in his claw an old fabric. The bird dumped it on Neville's head and went head on to attack the basilisk.

"NOOOO!" cried the memory along the cry of the basilisk.

Neville's hope soared high.

He realized Fawkes had just crushed the basilisk's eyes. The basilisk was now mostly useless.

"Your bird might have crushed its eyes but it is still venomous enough to kill you with a scratch!" screamed Riddle.

But Neville did not care. He was sensing his life-span to be considerably longer than a few minutes ago.

"Put me on your head, boy."

Neville started. The old fabric was actually the Sorting hat. Not asking how a magic hat would help him fight a basilisk, Neville did as he was told and hurried to a safe place. The basilisk was still rummaging the chamber, sniffing and trying to track him down.

Snakes have incredible sensory smell. Noticed Neville as he saw the huge green snake stop a few feet away from where he was hiding. He held his breath in in order not to let any noise and was pleased to see the basilisk go away.

A heavy weight fell on his head.

"Ouch." Whispered Neville.

The hat fell down, letting loose a beautiful sword. Carved on it's side, the name Godric Gryffindor could be read.

Only for the valorous, uh?

With renewed vigor, Neville ran to the highest point of the chamber. The statue of Salazar Slytherin was just waiting to be mounted. It was the ideal point to throw in the basilisk mouth the sword.

"You won't win this!" screamed once again Riddle, throwing a spell. It faded halfway to Neville.

"You don't have enough strength!" screamed back Neville, his attention down on the basilisk.

With a mighty throw and a huge cry, Neville buried the sword to the hilt in the basilisk head. The huge snake fell to the ground just as fast.

"NOOO!" cried Riddle, anguish marring his handsome face.

But Neville wasn't finished. He could feel his strength leaving, but he was considerably closer to Ginny and the journal than anyone. Pushing in his last reserves, he kneeled down next to Ginny, took the journal and stabbed it with the basilisk fang that had been embed in his arm.

"You're dead anyway! Basilisk poison can't be cured!" shouted the memory, anger in his voice.

It was with great satisfaction that Neville watched the journal bleed ink and Tom Riddle disappear. With each passing second, Riddle was leaving a little bit more, and Ginny was getting better. In under a minute, the journal smoked and finally stopped bleeding. Smiling, Neville saw Riddle's last glare. He had won and he could finally rest. His head was getting dizzier and …

A shrill reached Neville's head. Even with blurred eyesight, Neville made out the phoenix's contour.

"Fawkes, what is it?" he simply murmured.

Neville felt more than saw the phoenix hover his wounded arm. A fresh liquid seeped on the wound. Neville's dwindling strength came back so fast, he could not fully process what was happening.

"Phoenix's tears … they can heal anything." Whispered in awe Neville.

In a flurry rush, Fawkes had left his side to go to Ron and Bael's sides. Only now, did he register Ron was crying. With great effort, Neville pushed on his feet and went to see his two friends.

Ron looked like he had seen better days. A good half of his face was burnt, one of his arm was bent in a weird angle and his nose was heavily bleeding. Bael wasn't faring much better. Crushed under the basilisk tail, the spikes spearing into his left arm and cutting his body in two, he was having trouble breathing. Fawkes was by his side, letting his tears fall freely over Bael's mouth and keeping alive.

"Nev', we need to lift the basilisk's tail and push him out of under that monster." cried Ron, trying desperately to heave the heavy basilisk's tail.

Neville nodded. From Ron's state, he had gathered he would be the one to push Bael out of the way. A weak Wingardium Leviosa later, and Neville pushed his friend out. Now that Riddle was not here anymore, his eyes weren't glazed. Or at least, he had guessed they weren't glazed.

"You look like shit." Whispered Bael to Neville.

Neville almost snorted.

"You don't look much better."

"Ah." Said the boy heavily, tears maring his face, Fawkes still hovering over is body, "I don't feel good either."

Ron and Neville grimaced. Bael's leg had been crushed by the basilisk and three spikes had stayed embed in his body. The phoenix flapped its wing and circles around each spike.

"I think he wants us to pull out the spikes." Mumbled Ron.

"Just be careful." Said Neville, "they're poisonous."

With great care, Ron and Neville pushed them out of his body. Fawkes let slip a couple of tears before pausing on Ron's shoulder.

"I hate snakes." Came Bael's harsh voice after a little while.

Dirty, he looked like he had been dumped in a swamp.

"You have a plushy snake." Remarked Ron, tired.

"I'm throwing it." Replied Bael.

"You're not the only one." Laughed Neville, waiting for Ginny to wake up. He was slowly regaining color.

"You don't get it. I'm dead afraid of these things."

Neville looked at Bael with wide eyes. It was Ron who burst into laugh. Bael was red, from embarassment or anger, Neville couldn't tell.

"Whatever. Can someone tell me what happened now?" muttered the metamorphmmagus, eyes slowly dropping. He fell asleep by the end of his question.

The four Gryfindors slowly came back to the entrance of the Chamber, Ginny and Neville helping Ron and Bael to advance. It did not help that Neville had to carry the several pounds sword in one hand and the nasty journal in the other.

"Why did you think it was such a good idea to take the spikes?" mumbled Neville to Ron, who was heaving Bael on his back.

The two boys had briefly talked about the duel, but considering Bael had no idea what had happened since he had been imperiused – and then they had realized it – and obliviated, it had been short.

"The memories." Said Ron, "You just can't forget them."

Neville rolled his eyes.

It was only a moment after that, that the small group stumbled upon Tonks form, wo was quickly enervated and then Lockhart. The teacher stayed exactly where he was.

"How do we get up here?" asked Ginny, the only student feeling mostly good out of the now five students.

"Try accio broom." Said Tonks.

Ginny blushed. Tonks slapped her fore-head in realization.

"Idiot." Snickered Tonks, "She's a first-year. She does not know about that spell. Here, Accio Nimbus 2000." she mumbled to herself and then proceeded to wink at Neville.

The five students waited for the broom to come. It swiftly stopped in front of them and Neville watched as Tonks took turns to bring everyone to the surface before taking both Ron and Bael to the infirmary ward.

It left Neville alone with Ginny, both on their way to the Headmaster's office. Dragging behind him the sword, Neville admired the stars in the night as the Castle was finally regaining its senses and giving the two students the most beautiful view of the sky.

Here's the end ;)

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