Author's Note: It's a good thing I have a cold, as I had all day to lay in bed, feel sorry for myself, and churn out this chapter. It took an absurdly long time to edit, and many revisions were made in the process. I plead indulgence for my fuzzy head, and if you come across any repetitive passages or problems with continuity, please let me know. I am happy to go back and make corrections. For now, please enjoy the next installment of Harry Potter and the Spiteful Sorting Hat.
Chapter Thirty-Five – The Heir of Slytherin
The descent was as fast as it was nauseating. Harry could see nothing in the dark, but he felt every twist and turn as the pipe led him far beneath the school. By the time he reached the end, he was covered head to toe in slime and he didn't like to think what else.
The landing was everything but soft. Wincing in pain, Harry somehow managed to stifle any noises of discomfort. He waited in silence, his eyes futilely trying to adjust to the pitch black of whatever hole he had fallen into.
After several moments passed without a sound but that of his own heartbeat, Harry felt satisfied that he was alone. He reached for the wand in his pocket, praying he hadn't accidentally snapped it in the fall. He was lucky. The wand was intact.
"Lumos," Harry muttered, and an instant later he was bathed in a soft, white light. It was blinding after the darkness before, and Harry cast his eyes downward only to see the uncomfortable surface that had cushioned his fall.
Bones. Hundreds of them. With a sound of disgust, Harry scrambled to his feet, the bones emitting loud cracks as they broke beneath him.
"Rats," Harry said aloud, looking closer at the tiny skeletons. The basilisk must have been feeding on them all this time.
Harry lifted his wand, scanning the rest of his surroundings to see where he landed. It seemed that the passage had taken him to a sort of nexus, where many of the school's pipes came together, emptying into the large tunnel where Harry now stood. He observed the network of labyrinthine passageways branching away and shivered. It was very damp, and very cold. He didn't like to think of Millie waiting alone and afraid at the end of one of these pipes.
He decided to follow the fragments of rat bones down one of the tunnels, believing the remains would lead him straight to the basilisk's lair. Turning a sharp bend, Harry had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming. He regretted this in the next instant, as his hand was filthy with the same slime that covered the rest of his body. What he had mistaken for the body of a gigantic serpent turned out to be only the hollow husk of its skin.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief before he realized that the skin was indicative of the size of its owner. He tried not to think about this as he planned his next move.
He no longer needed the bones to show him the way. The snake skin served as a guide. Harry walked alongside it, sometimes daring to run his hand along the fragile surface, marveling at the ripples that perfectly duplicated each of the snake's scales.
This was not idle fancy. In the back of Harry's mind, he was taking note of the body's length, longer than any snake he'd ever heard of. The sensation of the scales under his fingertips provided a welcome distraction from his fear, and he walked along as quietly as he could manage with his feet in a few inches of water, counting the scales to prevent himself from imagining all the horrible ways he could die.
Where the snake skin ended, Harry found a door. At least, he assumed it was a door. The entrance was guarded by two entwined serpents, their bodies carved into a solid stone wall. As Harry drew closer, he saw that their eyes were set with two large, glittering emeralds.
"Open," Harry said without hesitation. He had come too far to turn back now, and time was of the essence if he was going to save Millie.
The serpents smoothly unwound the knot around each other, and the wall between them cracked apart as their bodies slithered away into darkness. Harry entered the chamber, overcome by fear but determined to see this through.
There were torches set along the entire length of the chamber, the flames flickering with an enchanted green light, much like the lights of his dormitory. Between the torches, Harry could see a series of massive stone pillars, encircled by more carved serpents, their bodies twisting all the way toward the ceiling and disappearing into the shadows far above his head. Harry wondered if the basilisk waited in the chamber for him, hiding in the long shadows cast by the stone pillars. But he heard nothing. Not a sound. And no sign of Millie anywhere.
"Nox," said Harry, dismissing the light from his wand, but keeping it in front of him as he proceeded forward.
The chamber stretched on and on. Every step he took echoed around the empty space, and he quickly abandoned any pretense of secrecy, quickening his pace to a run, growing more desperate the further he went with no sign of Millie.
His steps slowed as he finally approached the end of the long hall. A massive, dark shape loomed into view before him. It was no serpent, that was easy enough to see. Passing the last pair of pillars, Harry gazed upward at a tall statue of a man. He had a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of his stone robes, and as Harry traced this path down to the statue's gray feet, he saw a figure laying face-down on the ground.
Recognizing the mass of long, black hair, he went running to Millie's side, dropping to his knees beside her.
"Millie," Harry whispered, his voice sounding too loud in the still chamber, "Millie, please wake up. You're going to be alright now. Please, please get up..."
But Millie neither moved nor spoke. Harry had the distinct, horrible impression that she wasn't breathing. Flinging his wand to the side, he grabbed Millie's shoulder and turned her toward him. Her face was deathly white, like that of a skeleton, and she was freezing cold to the touch. Harry hoped that she was only petrified, but her eyes were closed, as if in sleep, and her arms were limp as Harry tried to lift her up. She wasn't petrified, and yet Harry couldn't bear to think of the other possibility.
"Millie, come on," Harry said, fighting back tears as he tugged on her arm, "We can't stay here, I have to get you out..."
It was no use. Millie was either knocked unconscious, or something much worse. Harry knew he wasn't strong enough to lift her, and he began looking around for his wand, thinking to levitate her instead.
Harry froze. His wand was not laying on the floor where he'd thrown it, but was held by a tall, black-haired boy. He stood only a few feet away from Harry, leaning against the nearest pillar. Harry was certain the boy had not been there before, and yet Harry had not heard anyone approach.
When the initial shock faded, Harry recognized him. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a dense fog, but there was no mistaking the boy in Slytherin House robes with a gleaming silver prefect badge on his chest.
"Tom..." Harry breathed when he was certain he was not going to scream, "Tom Riddle?"
Riddle nodded, his eyes riveted to Harry's face.
"Draco," he said coldly, his voice filled with obvious sarcasm. Riddle must have discovered he'd been given a false name, though Harry did not know how he could have guessed.
"What are you doing here, Tom?" Harry asked. Tom Riddle had attended Hogwarts fifty years ago, and yet he stood before Harry, not a day older than sixteen. Harry noted again his strange appearance, and the slightly translucent appearance of his skin. "Are you... a ghost?"
Riddle continued to study Harry, looking as if he wondered how anyone could be so dense.
"I told you before, didn't I?" he replied, "I'm a memory. Preserved in a diary all these years."
Riddle used Harry's wand to point between the giant feet of the statue. Lying on the floor a short distance from Millie was the journal, laying open to a deceptively blank page.
"How did it..." Harry started to ask, but then something occurred to him. He looked down at Millie's motionless form and thought he detected the telltale sign of ink smudged on her fingertips.
"That's right, Draco," Riddle said in mock praise, "Your Millie is the one who brought me here."
"Millie stole the diary from my room," said Harry, testing the theory out loud.
"Oh, she did more far more than that."
"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, "What have you done to Millie?"
"You don't have to look at me like that," said Riddle, "She isn't dead or anything. Not yet."
Harry climbed unsteadily to his feet. He wasn't sure he could tackle a memory, but if it came down to it, he was certainly going to try.
"Reverse it," he demanded, "Bring Millie back right now."
Riddle's sickening smile grew wider.
"It cannot be undone."
"What does that mean? What have you done?" Harry shouted, his voice echoing around the cavernous chamber.
"The diary," Riddle replied softly, "Surely you guessed? She's been writing to me all year."
Harry did not blame Riddle for making fun of him. He had been incredibly stupid. He'd seen Millie scribbling in a book countless times throughout the year. How could he not realize that the book she's always drawn in was the same that he found in the fire?
"Would you like to know what she told me?" Riddle asked, his voice light, as if they were having a pleasant chat over tea. "She's told me all the secrets she feared to share with anyone else. Can you guess what they were? That her parents are disappointed in her, how she tries live up to their expectations, how the other girls tease her for being ugly and awkward... And how she doesn't understand why the famous, powerful Harry Potter would ever want to be friends with someone like her."
Harry's stomach twisted. He didn't know if he could trust Riddle. Was everything he said true? Millie never talked about her parents to Harry or Blaise, and she never mentioned being bullied by their classmates. Harry always assumed everyone was too afraid of her, but perhaps he was wrong.
He looked down at Millie, realizing too late all the subtle ways she tried to tell him that something was wrong. Her sullen mood, her reclusive nature... But Harry hadn't wanted to pry. He never pushed her to tell him the truth. And now it had come to this. Riddle had her under some sort of spell, and Harry still did not understand why.
Then a chilling idea occurred to him. Millie had warned him against the book when he found it. She said it could be cursed... And they had known that Lucius Malfoy sent something to Hogwarts, something that Dobby said was evil... Something connected to the Dark Arts...
Harry looked up at Riddle, who smiled back at the expression on his face.
"There it is," Riddle said happily, "I knew you would get there eventually, Draco."
"It was you," Harry said, "You're the Heir of Slytherin. You always were, even when Hagrid..."
"Hagrid!" Riddle interrupted with a laugh, "Yes, he was the perfect scapegoat, wasn't he? I needed someone to take the blame, and no one would suspect my word against the giant half-breed."
"You used him," Harry continued, "Just like you're using Millie now."
Riddle smirked. "No... Not quite. You see I needed Millie. That is, I need her soul. The more of herself she confided in me, the stronger I grew, until I was powerful. More powerful than your friend. Then I was finally able to overcome her."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked him, his mouth dry.
"You still don't understand?" Riddle asked, sounding slightly disappointed, "And here I thought you had it all figured out. Dear Millicent is the one who opened the Chamber. She wrote the messages on the wall. She sent the basilisk after the students. It was all her, acting on my commands.
"At first she didn't realize what had happened to her. It was all very amusing for a time. But eventually she grew suspicious of the lost time, the lapses in memory... I think she guessed the truth, or a part of it, and she decided to get rid of me. And that's where you come in, Harry."
Until now, Riddle had insisted on using the fake name Harry had given him. Now it seemed he'd known the truth all along.
"How do you know who I am?" Harry asked.
Riddle rolled his eyes.
"Harry, the scar is right there on your forehead."
Harry's hand shot up, his fingertips touching the thin line of raised scar tissue. He tried to cover it, but of course it was no use. The truth was already out.
The perpetual smile on Riddle's lips faded away, reforming into a thin line.
"The Boy Who Lived... Millicent told me everything. How everyone suspected you of being the Heir of Slytherin. That you were famous. Famous for killing the most powerful wizard that ever lived. I didn't know who you were when you found my diary. How could I? I couldn't see you then as I do now. But Millie... She saw you with the book, and she stole me back. She demanded to know what I had told you. She was terrified of her secret getting out. That's when I learned, when she told me... I had been talking to Harry Potter himself..."
"Why do you care?" Harry asked abruptly, "Voldemort was after your time. Why does it matter to you if I defeated him?"
"Voldemort is my past, present, and future," answered Riddle. He lifted Harry's wand in the air and began to trace letters, which hung in the air, glowing like embers.
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
Then he waved the wand, and the letters rearranged themselves to form a new message:
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT
Harry could not stop himself. He burst out laughing.
Riddle had no idea how to respond to this sudden fit of amusement. He turned toward Harry, the look of surprise on his face quickly turning to one of fury.
"What?" he demanded, "What's so funny?"
"That... is... precious!" Harry said, unable to keep the hysterical giggles from bubbling up, "Did you come up with that on your own? Doodled it in the margins of your textbook?"
"Stop it," Riddle said, obviously rattled, "I am Lord Voldemort, you imbecile! The greatest dark wizard who ever lived!"
"Why not Immortal Dove Lord?" Harry asked, still consumed with laughter, "No, no! I have a better one! Mild Doormat Lover!"
"Enough!" Riddle screamed, and Harry heard a menacing hiss respond from the darkness.
The threatening sound was enough to silence his laughter, but the smile was still on Harry's face as he met Riddle's eye. The basilisk was in the chamber, hidden nearby and waiting only for Riddle's command to strike. Harry knew he probably only had a few minutes left to live, and he planned to make the most of them.
"You call yourself the greatest dark wizard," he said, "But you're wrong. You aren't the greatest. I am."
Riddle's eyes flashed in anger, but he said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to reveal something, and his hunger to know how his future self had been defeated by the slime-covered boy in front of him was obvious.
"Do you know what people say about me?" Harry continued, "They say that I am the next Dark Lord. They say that I was able to defeat you as a baby because I have more power than you can even imagine. And that wasn't the only time you were destroyed. I defeated you again my first year at Hogwarts. Do you want to know what became of you? The Voldemort I fought was nothing but a gross parasite, living on the back of some coward's head, drinking unicorn blood just to survive. Until I killed your host with my bare hands."
There was more bluff than truth to his story. Harry had been saved by his mother's sacrifice, not through any power of his own. But the lie was doing its work on Riddle. Harry could see the uncertainty in his eyes.
"You think you're more powerful than me?" Riddle asked, "Shall we put it to the test?"
"Whatever you say, Mr. Molded Violator."
Riddle, furious beyond words, turned and stalked away. He came to a stop between the feet of the gigantic statue, looking down at his old diary. Harry couldn't see his face while he had his back turned, but he heard Riddle hiss in parseltongue, "Come to me, servant of Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
The basilisk, hidden in the shadows of the chamber, began making its way into the light of the torches. Harry turned away as soon as he saw the venomous green scales slide into view. If he looked the snake in the eyes, that would be the end.
"Kill him," Riddle hissed.
Without a wand or a weapon of any kind, Harry did the only thing he could do. He ran.
He heard the basilisk moving toward him, its heavy body slithering across the damp floor. Harry feared the creature would overtake him at any moment, and he would find himself staring into the same yellow eyes that killed Myrtle.
Outrunning the serpent was impossible. Thinking fast, Harry jumped to the side and began to weave around the pillars. He drew out his father's invisibility cloak and threw it over himself, then stopped to catch his breath, trying to keep as silent as possible.
The basilisk, confused by his sudden disappearance, brought it rapid pursuit to an immediate halt. For a moment, both the snake and its master stared in confusion at the space Harry had once occupied, then Harry heard Riddle give a high, harsh laugh.
"Your little parlor tricks won't work for long, Harry!" he called, "Sooner or later, you'll have to show yourself, or else your little friend will die, and I will return for good."
Harry ignored his taunt. The basilisk had started to move again, slowly this time. He caught the reflection of the beast's scales on the damp stone nearby, too close for comfort. It was searching for him.
"Listen to me," Harry said, easily switching to parseltongue, "You don't have to do this. Don't attack me. Stand down."
He'd taken a risk trying to reason with the basilisk, but he'd only revealed his location. He was forced into flight again as the snake resumed the chase.
"Aren't you full of surprises, Potter?" Riddle said. For some reason, he sounded angry again, "You thought you would beat me with parseltongue? Well, it doesn't matter if you have the gift! I am the Heir of Slytherin! The beast will only listen to its true master!"
He hissed again at the snake, urging it to move faster, to sniff him out of his hiding place, to sink its fangs into his body...
Harry was doomed. The sudden realization that this was really happening, that he would die here in this chamber, hidden far underground, broke over Harry like a crushing wave. It was then that Harry realized just how alone he was. Hagrid was wasting away in prison. Blaise was miles away, safe from the dangers of the school. And Millie, the only friend who stayed behind, was lying on the chamber floor, near death. Even Dumbledore was gone, and without him, there would be no one left to stop a young Voldemort from taking over the school if Harry failed.
Dodging around the pillars in an attempt to throw the basilisk off his trail, Harry thought back to the night in Hagrid's cabin, before Harry met Aragog. He'd nearly forgotten what Dumbledore said that night, as both he and Hagrid were escorted off school grounds.
Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.
With nothing left to lose, Harry opened his mouth and screamed, "HELP!"
He didn't know what he expected to happen, but he wasn't afraid of revealing his position now. The snake would find him eventually, and Harry was desperate for any kind of assistance.
"Someone, please help me!" he shouted again, ripping his father's cloak from his shoulders as he ducked behind another pillar.
Bracing himself against the column, his eyes shut tight against the threat of the basilisk's gaze, Harry heard Riddle laughing at him, finding immense pleasure in Harry's plea for help. But then Harry heard something else, something that did not belong in that cold, dark place.
Riddle must have heard it too, because his cruel laughter was suddenly cut short.
It was music, but a song unlike Harry had ever heard. The notes floated to his ears, soft, but eerie, and he felt shivers run up and down his spine. As it grew louder, it lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and filled him with a strange mixture of courage and dread. He wanted to open his eyes to see the creature that made such a strange sound, but he was too afraid of certain death to risk it.
"Is that... a phoenix?" he heard the voice of Tom Riddle say. Then the music stopped, and Harry felt a rush of cool air as a pair of powerful wings swept over him.
"Fawkes?" Harry asked.
Brush of a feather against his cheek, and something fell into his lap. Then the bird was flying away from him. Harry's eyes snapped open as he cried out, begging the phoenix not to leave him and forgetting in his panic the danger of the basilisk's gaze.
He saw Fawkes, not the fledgling or molting bird from before, but a phoenix in its prime. It was about the size of a swan, crimson red in color, with glittering, golden tail feathers as long as a peacock's. It soared in a wide arc around the high chamber, and with a piercing cry, dove toward the basilisk, coiled to strike in the center of the hall.
Harry averted his eyes as soon as he spied the basilisk, terrified to see how close it had come to his hiding place. If Fawkes had waited a moment later, Harry might already be dead. His eyes turned away from the dueling beasts, Harry glanced in his lap to see what the bird brought him.
It was the Sorting Hat.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Harry shouted in indignation.
He was not alone. While he cried out in frustration, Riddle began howling in outrage.
Harry could not resist. He turned his gaze toward the basilisk again, and saw the source of Riddle's anger. Fawkes flew above the head of the basilisk, who had lifted its evil eye in defense against the airborne creature. Harry watched, amazed, as Fawkes attacked the basilisk, diving toward its face and ripping at its scales with sharp talons, or else pecking at is deadly eyes with a hooked beak.
Dumbledore must have sent his bird to help Harry, and the Sorting Hat had to play a role in his plan. Harry had hoped for a weapon of some kind to defeat the snake, but with no other options, Harry did the only thing he could think of. He put the hat on his head.
"I need help," Harry thought in desperation, "I don't know what to do, and Millie is dying. Please, please help me!"
He expected to hear the low, quiet voice of the hat in his ear. He did not expect to feel a soft thump on the top of his head. Confused, Harry pulled the hat off and held it in front of him, searching the interior for the object that struck him.
Something glittered in the pointed end of the hat. Harry dug his hand inside and pulled out... a necklace.
Harry sat in stunned silence as Riddle continued to scream, his words again dissolving into an angry hiss as he commanded the basilisk to leave the phoenix be and to continue its search for Harry.
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" Harry asked himself. He had no idea how a necklace was supposed to help him defeat a giant killer snake, and he didn't have time to figure it out. The basilisk, now blind, could still kill him with its powerful fangs.
He slipped the long chain around his neck without thinking, conscious only that he needed to hold on to the necklace, praying that Dumbledore wouldn't have sent it to him without reason. Ducking around the pillar, he made a mad dash back down the chamber. He was determined not to leave Millie behind.
He came to a stop near Millie's side, ignoring the irate Riddle that remained near his old diary. His form was less blurry now, and Harry knew he had nearly drained Millie of all her life force. The basilisk had turned toward them, heeding Riddle's shouts that Harry was there as he ordered the beast to strike.
Harry forgot to close his eyes, but it didn't matter now. Fawkes had blinded the beast entirely. Dark red blood ran from its ruined eyes, spilling over its vivid green scales as it swiftly slithered toward Harry.
It came closer, ever closer, opening its mouth wide to reveal long fangs, dripping with saliva and venom. Harry stared into the monster's throat, knowing that soon he would be swallowed whole, while Millie was left to rot in in the chamber. A skeleton, just like the rats in the pipes.
At the last moment, Harry instinctively threw his arms over his face as if to protect himself and he screamed, "STOP!"
Face to face with the serpent, Harry couldn't help but revert to parseltongue. His command was a hiss, and to his surprise, the snake came to an immediate halt.
"What are you doing?" Riddle screeched when he saw the basilisk hesitate. "Kill him!"
"Don't!" Harry said, fearful that the snake would follow his master's orders. But he had nothing to fear. The snake appeared to take no notice of Riddle. Instead, it closed its wide jaws. Unable to see Harry, its tongue flicked out, tasting the air. The long, forked tongue moved uncomfortably close to Harry's face, before lightly lashing against the pendant hanging against Harry's chest.
What is your bidding, master? Harry heard the snake hiss.
Harry couldn't believe his ears. He looked down at the pendant, for the first time noticing that it appeared to be a locket. Staring at the insignia, Harry realized he was looking at the letter S, molded onto the gold metal beautifully, and inlaid with glittering emerald gems.
"Slytherin..." Harry muttered to himself. The locket had belonged to the founder. That was the only explanation that made sense.
Riddle was still screaming at the snake, who no longer headed his commands. It was waiting for Harry to give it direction. It needed him to give it purpose.
Harry glanced once more at the locket around his neck, then he looked at Riddle. He was nearly opaque now, which meant that Millie didn't have much time. If the basilisk had not been blind, perhaps its gaze would have been powerful enough to defeat a phantom like Riddle, as it had the Grey Lady. But there was another option. The basilisk had more than one weapon at its disposal. Harry glanced at Riddle's feet, and saw the diary laying there, still open to a seemingly blank page.
Riddle finally seemed to realize he no longer had control over the basilisk. He lifted Harry's wand, still tightly grasped in his hand, toward Harry. But Fawkes was faster, and before Riddle could utter the killing curse, the phoenix had swooped down, snatching the wand from his grasp.
Flying low, Fawkes dropped the wand over Harry, who caught it out of the air like an experienced Seeker would a Golden Snitch.
"Accio, diary!" Harry shouted without missing a beat, and the book flew from between Riddle's feet into Harry's outstretched palm.
"STOP!" Riddle screeched, his voice full of fear and anger, "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!"
But Harry knew exactly what he was doing. Holding the book out in front of him, he commanded the basilisk to bite.
The serpent opened its mouth, and brought one of its fangs down on the journal. But blind, and unable to see its target, the fang pierced not only the diary, but Harry's hand as well.
Harry and Riddle were both screaming in pain. The book began to gush black ink, staining the white pages and mixing with the red of Harry's blood. Harry recoiled from the shock of the bite, but the pain lasted only a second as the venom began to course through him, numbing his hand and sending little tingling waves up his arm toward his elbow.
Riddle continued to scream as if his soul was being ripped apart, and indeed it was. He fell to the floor, screaming and writhing against the ground, his form deteriorating fast, splintering away in fragments from his body. And then he was gone.
It was all over in a moment. Harry had almost no time to relish the victory. The numbness of the bite had quickly been replaced by a white-hot burning in his arm, spreading from the wound. Harry dropped to his knees, his good hand pressing against the floor in an effort to keep himself upright. His vision was swimming.
In his last moments, he tried to take comfort in the fact that he had saved Millie. Or if she was already past saving, at least he killed Voldemort. Again.
Brush of a feather against his cheek. He didn't know when he had collapsed fully to the floor, but he was distantly aware that Fawkes was with him. The Phoenix rested by his side, its head laying against his wounded hand. His vision was now so blurred he couldn't be certain, but it seemed to him as if the bird were crying. Perhaps it was sad that he had to die.
Dying itself wasn't so bad. Even the pain had gone away. He was only angry at himself for dying before he could take Millie back to the surface, and he wondered if she would be alright now that the diary had been destroyed. Suddenly his vision cleared, and he saw Millie looking down at him, a look of pain and sadness on her face.
"Oh no," Harry thought, "It didn't work after all."
He thought they were both dead, and that Millie was disappointed in his failure. But as Millie pulled him up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders with a tight embrace, reality came crashing back into focus.
He was still on the cold stone floor of the chamber. The tattered and ink-stained pages of Riddle's diary lay close to his side, next to Fawkes who stared at him, ruffling his red and gold feathers. Harry, stunned to find himself still alive, looked down at his hand and saw that the bite mark was fully healed. Dried blood from where he'd been bitten still remained, but the skin was smooth and whole, without even a scar to mark where the basilisk's fang had punctured his skin.
Stranger still, Millie was sobbing. Arms still locked around Harry's neck, she dug her chin into his shoulder and positively wailed. She was squeezing him so tight it was painful, but Harry was so relieved she wasn't hurt that he didn't care. He returned the hug, patting Millie's back in an attempt to soothe her.
"It's alright, Millie. I'm okay. Fawkes must've done something to heal me, see?"
Millie pulled away from him, and he tried to show her his hand, but the miserable look didn't leave her face.
"Harry, it's all my fault!" Millie said, the sobs she fought to hold back choking her as she tried to explain. "I didn't want to do any of it, Harry, but he made me! I... I opened the chamber and killed Hagrid's chickens and left those messages on the wall... It was all me!"
"I know, Millie," Harry said, "But you're wrong about one thing. It wasn't really you. The book was cursed."
Millie nodded her head, seeming to draw courage from the understanding in Harry's voice.
"I tried to get rid of it, you know. I threw it in the fire. But then you found it! Oh Harry, why didn't you just leave it alone?"
"You tried to save me," Harry said, "You're the one who broke into my room. To steal the book back so I wouldn't write in it."
Millie shook her head, dropping her face to the floor in shame.
"That's not it..." she said quietly, "I thought that if he told you... If you knew all the things that I had done... You and Blaise wouldn't want to be my friend anymore."
Now it was Harry's turn to pull her into a hug. On a normal day, she would push him away, sneer at him for attempting to get close to her, or even put a hex on him. But this was not a normal day, and Millie returned his hug gratefully. Neither one of them was good with words, and Harry could think of no better way to show Millie that all was forgiven.
"No more secrets," Harry said, pulling away first, "From now on, if something is bothering us, anything at all, we have to talk to each other."
Millie's face twisted. Harry could tell that she didn't like the idea, but she nodded her head in agreement.
"Then you have to tell me what that thing is around your neck," she said, pointing down to Harry's chest.
Harry had nearly forgotten the locket. He lifted it up, inspecting the shining emeralds again.
"It came out of the Sorting Hat," Harry explained. Then he remembered the hat, and glanced around for the magical garment.
He saw the basilisk first. It had slithered to a far corner, attempting to hide itself in the shadows unsuccessfully. Harry could hear it hissing in pain, and he felt pity for the poor creature. It was as much a victim of Riddle's whims as Millie had been. But with a different master, someone who wouldn't command it to hurt others...
"Find the hat, Millie," Harry said, climbing unsteadily to his feet, "I think I dropped it somewhere near the end of the chamber. I'll meet you there."
Millie followed the direction of Harry's gaze and shuddered when she saw the coils of the giant serpent, but she too climbed to her feet and obeyed Harry's directive.
Harry walked cautiously toward the basilisk, uttering a quiet hiss of greeting as he approached, not wanting to startle the wounded creature. The snake turned its face toward him causing Harry to flinch. But he had nothing to fear. The basilisk's gaze would never harm another person again.
Master, the snake hissed, Master, it hurts...
"I know," Harry replied, "I'm sorry. You did well. I won't let anyone hurt you know. But you need to promise me, you'll never hurt anyone again."
The snake uttered another pained hiss, but it nodded its head to Harry, giving its promise.
Harry had an idea.
"I know someone who can help you. I have to go now, but I'll come back with him. Remember, you can't harm him. You can't harm anyone."
I understand. I will obey...
Harry, satisfied, patted the serpent's scaly side with something almost like affection. He glanced down at the locket, curious about what other powers it might contain. But now was not the time. Millie waited at the end of the chamber, holding the tattered Sorting Hat in her hands, Fawkes perched on her shoulder. Harry dropped the locket down the front of his jumper, shivering slightly as the cold metal touched his bare skin.
He joined Millie, and the two of them made their way slowly through the tunnels under the school. Harry paused only to make sure the chamber entrance was shut. The stone serpents slithered back together as they walked past. The basilisk would remain inside until his return.
"How will we get back to the surface, Harry?" Millie asked.
Then a voice echoed from around a bend in the tunnel. They jumped in fright, then the voice called out again. It was calling Harry's name, and it sounded furious.
"Potter! Potter, I know you're down here! I swear, if you aren't already dead, I'm going to kill you!"
"Professor Snape!" Harry said happily, "He got my message!"
Millie gave Harry a look of astonishment, but Harry paid it no mind. After their experience in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry was thrilled to hear a familiar voice, even it it belonged to his least favorite teacher. Taking Millie's hand, he led her down the tunnel, toward the Potions Master who waited to expel them both.