Chapter 50: The Chamber Opens

Within seconds of Hagrid's startling appearance, Severus was by Lily's side, concern upon his face. "You must go now. Go up to your dorm and do not come out under any circumstances," he urged, as he pulled her from the hall.

"Wait, wait! What about the other kids?" Lily glanced over her shoulders at the dozen or so that remained behind, most of them from the younger years, none of them with a clue of what might be transpiring.

But Sev did not stop, nor did any words of concern fall from his thin lips. "So long as you're safe."

Lily dug in her heels and wrenched her hand from his grasp. "Severus Snape. If there is a clear and present danger as you say, then there is no way, as a Student Leader, that I could flee to safety while leaving everyone else behind."

Sev rounded on her, his dark eyes flashing with frustration. "And how are you to convince them to do as you say? Herding the young is like herding cats. Tell them of what is coming and I guarantee you at least half of your feckless Gryffindors will be off scouring the hallways for sign of present and looming danger."

His oh so generous assessment of the survival instincts of her Housemates was unflattering, but not entirely incorrect. However, where Sev excelled in cunning ability, he lacked in social knowhow. There was more than one way to herd cats, and chasing them was the least efficient of the lot.

"Leave it to me, Sev. I'll get everyone to safety, alright?" Lily promised, and before Sev could object she returned to the Great Hall and announced loudly. "Party up in the Room of Requirements within fifteen minutes! Every student invited. Just because we're not going home for the holidays, doesn't mean we can't have some fun!"

The atmosphere livened immediately, bright eyes of the younger years widening with excitement at the prospect. The stone was rolling for the likelihood of getting everyone swiftly into a contained and safe environment. Now all Lily had to do was send a doe down to the head Elf in the kitchens and request some simple party foods be sent up. They were usually quite accommodating, never begrudging any student of requests within their scope of achievement.

Only the older years, the seventh years in particular, looked as if they needed a little cajoling. Susan and Pandora both stayed behind to put their noses to the grindstones, isolated from similar distractions of home and hearth, but as Gryffindors they probably still could't turn away from a good dose of socialisation.

"See?" She turned to Sev with a wink as already the youths were clamming towards the exit. "Catch more cats with milk than with a sack." A smile touched his lips, perhaps impressed by her ingenuity, but before she could dash off to finish the last leg of her task, Sev caught her and brought close for a sudden and unbidden kiss. Unexpected, was the word, and in view of all in the hall. Not something she would have ever thought Sev would do.

But as he parted, there was an odd hint of sadness in his eyes, fear perhaps for what might happen, and sorrow for the loss that fear had already convinced him was certain to be. With a gentle hand upon the back of his neck, Lily held him close, touching their foreheads together as she met his dark eyes with a smile. "Hey come on. No worrying. I'll aim to stay safe, I promise."

And with that she pushed away and headed for the grand doors, following the torrent of other kids headed up the stairs. "You gather your Slytherins and convince them they're invited. I'll see you up there, alright Sev?"

Those dark eyes hardened as he gave one stiff nod, before she was swept out of sight by the bustling crowd.


Lily's idea was efficient, Snape would concede. She had lured a good majority of the kids away with the promise of joviality and community. Several of their numbers were left, mostly older students in particular the Ravenclaws, likely eager to set themselves into their studying fervour. It probably wasn't to be a problem as sealing themselves away to study in the library or common rooms was probably about as safe as they could get outside the room of requirements. She doubted any beast could get past Madam Pince and her vicious dedication to silence. But perhaps it was fortunate nobody would have to find out, for the headmaster at least had the foresight to close the library for the week of the holiday, driving the students and teachers from the first floor and procuring the clearest stretch of hall possible lest Snape fail in his attempts to nip it in the Chamber.

Mulciber was the only fool left sitting pointlessly in the Hall, still staring forlornly at the empty seat where his Gryffindor infatuation had sat. The girl had left with her companions along with the horde of eager children, out of the way of present danger.

"Lily had asked me to ensure that the Slytherins know they're invited. Though considering how quickly the others had left, she likely meant just you," Snape offered to the boy as minimum effort to this one duty. He could not allocate more time than this, not when he had to prepare himself for the task to come.

Snape's hand grasped tightly about the ebony handle of the wand in his pocket. Discretely he flexed his fingers, trying to loosen his locking joints. Tension thrummed through his body, so familiar, yet so foreign to this lifetime. The tension that came with the looming prospect of endangerment, the subtle strain of muscle and mind that came with courting death.

A familiar friend in another life. A familiar tone to this old mind. Once he had even welcomed the prospect it might bring, for his last life had been hell, and death would have been a relief.

But no more.

Never had his life been worth so much to him. A future he so wished to experience, to persist. The tension this time held fear. True fear from his pattering heart.

"Decide as you will, Mulciber. Go, don't go, doesn't matter," Snape muttered to the still reluctant boy, unwilling to allocate any more of his precious time to another's predicament. "Just be prepared to live with your decision, and don't regret what you reap from cowardice."

And without another glance back, Snape swept out of the hall and steeled himself for what was to come. Lily had asked him to meet her upstairs when he gathered the stragglers to weather out the calamity to come, but that would not be in the fates. For if there was to be an end to this peril, it must be by his hands.

Dumbledore had left this morning for the Alchemical conference, or so he had claimed. But truth was they had conspired for his disappearance to entice the heir to act. To narrow his window of opportunity to ensure he'd be at his most predictable. To ensure Snape his greatest chance of survival.

He did not know how much of this all the old daft man had informed the rest of his teaching staff , but it could not have been much by the looks of how calmly they took the revelation of the dead birds. He could not imagine the likes of Minerva McGonagall sitting so calm when danger knocked to claim her cubs, nor the motherly hen Pomona Sprout or mentoring Flitwick. Danger loomed, also for every member of the teaching staff, but Snape had not the capacity to allocate worry to them. Should anything happen to any of those Professors, men and women he had once stood by and taught with…

Those that stood against him during the last moments of his life.

Well that sin would hang upon Dumbledore, not Snape, for it was he who had decided not to involve those pillars that hold up his school, for fear of their actions breaking secrecy. A sacrifice he knew the conniving old man to be more than capable of making.

To ensure secrecy, Snape was the only one tasked by the headmaster to end the great beast. A plan they had discussed ad nauseam. An event that was unfolding too quickly for his liking.

Snape had to calm himself, else he would be worn too thin before this encounter would even unfold. Exhaustion did not begin at the first notes of battle, but at the roiling tension that claw at its approach. He could not afford to waste stamina on fear, he had to calm himself.

He flexed his fingers as he mounted the stairwell that lead from the Entrance Hall to the Grand Staircase, shrugging the tension from his shoulders. His blinks became long and deliberate, as his mind's eye conjured the image of the grand creature, extracted from the mind of the twelve year old boy who faced it. His imagination, combined with his visual memory conjured the creature's great serpentine head, and estimated where its eyes would be, and how far its fangs might strike.

This was to be a battle fought without visual aid if he wished to survive, and it all came down to his ability to predict and react. He could not look the creature in its eyes, for the glare of a basilisk was fatal to any that meet it.

He could already see the effect the creature's presence had on the school, for movement scurried about the walls. Spiders left their cosy webs, hung high about the stone ceiling and within corners that would have remained undisturbed. They scuttled for windows and cracks, straining to escape what they knew was coming. Wiser than he, perhaps.

His foot landed upon the first floor flight, feeling the weight of fear bound down upon him, bowing his back as tension screamed through his limbs. With conscious effort he pressed down on it, and stepped into the corridor, closing his eyes and casting his Detection Spells as he did so.

Immediately he felt it, a grand dark creature unfurling deep far beneath his feet. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he watched it through his magical senses, sizing up the length of the creature, and the power it must possess.

It was little wonder why it was a Gryffindor that slew the beast in his previous life, for no child of any other House could possess the sheer arrogance to believe themselves capable of such a feat. He supposed the grand irony would be that he, a Slytherin, the most level-headed of that lot, was doing just that.

"I did say the Filch's Office didn't I?" Snape's eyes snapped open, only to find a wand pointed towards him. Rosier stood calmly before him, wand levelled to his heart. "Despite your efforts in procuring my cooperation, you didn't seem to pay my words much heed."

"Rosier. I would have thought you had fled to safety considering what lengths you had taken to be clear of the creature's path before it even emerged," Snape all but crooned.

The boy's hooded eyes narrowed. "So then. You have figured it out."

"A basilisk, beneath our feet. Am I wrong?" Snape remarked, his own wand gripped loosely in his grasp. Despite the age and experience that divided them, Snape did not give in to confidence. Rosier would become a duellist of incredible prowess, such that he was even able to take a piece of Moody in direct combat, though that had been his parting gift to the living. It may not be years before the boy could claim even a portion of that potential, but Snape had no doubt if it came to conflict, he would suffer for it for when he encountered his true opponent. Attrition was the greatest enemy. But thankfully Rosier made no immediate move to attack, apparently content to simply hold Snape in place for now. Though this was a stand-off that had to be resolved, and soon.

"Knowing what you know, Rosier, should you not be hiding away?" Snape offered in a testing tone, watching the boy's occluded eyes for any outward response. "The common room seems as safe as any. I do not believe it to be Slytherin's best interest for his beast to maraud upon his dungeons."

A smirk graced the boy's lips, but it contrasted with his eyes in a manner Snape could only describe as reluctant. "Nothing would please me more than to tuck away and wait this one out. But when you receive orders from him, well… independent decisions become unwise."

"What orders are they to be so… suicidal?" Snape drew out the last word, emphasising it, trying to remind the child that obedience might not be his best option.

"That I stop interlopers." Rosier replied, his wand shaking in his tensioned grasp. "That I stand a damned guard dog and risk life and limb while Avery plays host to his word. He's being drained dry from the inside out, did you know that? Punishment for his father's mistakes," he sneered, eyes flashing menacingly, perhaps with true concern beyond himself. "Why did you not take heed of my advice to begin with? Why did you not investigate Filch's Office and be rid of that damned book? It was that artefact that progenerated all this, that dark item that held the word of his. I was instructed to hide it for fear of investigation into the dead birds uncovering its discovery, but you were not very thorough in your responsibilities were you, Snape?"

Rosier did not wish for this path. He was a reluctant pawn in all this. Much like another too-eager Slytherin child Snape had once known. And he too would be a victim in it all.

Why did he not take that easy road? This could all have been prevented, had he not thought to act the hero. The allure of total victory? The prospect of warding against future threats?

To seek peace for another who needed it?

"I can stop this," reasoned Snape, his voice low and even. "There needs not be any bloodshed. There needs not be any loss of life. Just step away and head for safety."

Those hooded eyes narrowed, unswayed. "And should you trump the beast? Then what? I face my master and explain to him why you were allowed to do so?"

But Snape pressed on, banking on Slytherin reason. "If I stand triumphant, what reasonable mind could believe you could have possibly have succeeded in obstructing me?"

Silence stretched between them, as slowly those hooded eyes softened. A smile finally broke upon that pale face, and with a nod Rosier finally withdrew his wand. "Point taken, Snape. I was but an insignificant bump on your path."


Those minutes wasted, mere moments as they might have been, had been significant enough to render a Chamber assault unviable. Snape stood at the gaping entrance behind the shifted sink, eyes closed and feeling the slow rumble of the dark creature towards him. He could not enter and hope to slip by the thing undetected, and fighting in cramped piping was not ideal against a creature whose bulk could fill it. He would have to face the creature after it emerges, and hope all had taken heed to keep clear of these halls.

He stepped back, feeling the dark creature move slowly beneath him, turning from its benign incline to a steep climb. With a deep drawn breath, Snape slipped off his wedding ring, feeling the small but significant tug that told him of Lily's presence, fade away from his senses. He could not afford the barest distraction when his eyes could not be used. He slipped that ring into the pouch upon his belt, just inside the flap of his worn robes, the same pouch that Lily had gifted him. He had taken her advice to carry his most precious stone on him, and as a result it had become his most trusted pocket, as all the ones that came with his seven-year-old robes had long been worn to obsolescence.

He could feel the creature climb past the underground labyrinth of the dungeons now, following the vast underground pipes through Slytherin territory. Snape stepped out of the brightly lit bathroom, and readied himself in the poorly lit hallway, laying a Disillusion spell upon himself, rending his form harder to see. The spell prickling across his skin like an electric crackle. It was not perfect invisibility, and he did not know whether the creature relied upon its sight for more than just efficient murder, but at the very least he hoped to impede the ability of the human companion that was no doubt emerging with it.

For the heir to maintain control, he would need to be in earshot with the beast, and that likely meant Avery would emerge alongside the creature, and with one pulse of the Human Presence Detection spell, he could see Avery ascending upon the creature's crown.

The sounds of scraping scale echoed from the gaping entrance, reverberating within the bathroom and setting Snape's nerves alight. He pressed himself against the stone wall, wand gripped as he fought desperately to unwind his tension. Committing to battle never used to be this hard, but he had never fought for anything so precious before.

Then the thump sounded, of a great weight landing upon the stone tiles, and Snape knew, even without his Detection Spell, that the creature was only ten feet away. Close enough to hex it, should he turn into the bathroom, close enough to land the first strike.

But impatience would be costly, and if Snape were to face it on a level playing field he would have to rely on his own strengths. And patience was one of his greatest.

He heard Avery's voice sound from within, a twisted hissing issued from his throat. Parseltongue, as he had once heard it in another child's voice. He felt the great creature uncurl from the stone tile floor, its scales scraping harshly.

The creature's great snout emerged. He could feel its breath, cool and fowl, spilling into the suddenly too narrow hallway. Snape tensed, but this time he did not unwind, this time his tension haled for preparation. For he counted under his breath, the length of the creature emerging, waiting for the calculated moment.

For its great yellow eye to level with his wand.

Incendio!

A great spout of fire gushed forth from his wand, bathing a blanket area before him in flames, burning all that it touched. The great snake hissed in pain, its great bulk coiling inwards, lashing at the top of the arched entrance to the girl's bathroom. His eyes opened, and in that moment of optimistic uncertainty he met the creature's scalded socket and knew he landed a blinding blow. But he could not take a moment to satisfy himself with that cheap surprise advantage.

Immediately the human voice rang out, harsh hissed orders to the convulsing creature. A creature that still possessed one deadly eye and all of its envenomed fangs.

Snape leapt back before the basilisk could gather itself, turning on his heels to dash madly for the turn in the corridor. The floor beneath him rumbled as the dark creature took pursuit, its bulk gaining ground fast.

Sectumsempra!

Snape flung the spell over his shoulder, catching the creature in painful surprise, and causing it to miss the turn and barrel into the wall as Snape dove at the turn. It had passed so close Snape had felt its great fangs catch on his robes, his sleeve hung torn and tattered from his thin arm, the gash stretched down the entire left side of his robes. As close as call as any.

Fire issued from Snape's wand, bathing the great coiled mass before him, hoping to catch its second eye by serendipity while it lay stunned by the blow of its headlong rush and its own following bulk. It writhed in response, coiling defensively to protect its precious head. The smell of scorched hair filled the air as its keratinous scales scorched under Snape's assault.

With unexpected suddenness, the basilisk reared up from its defensive position, and for Snape to screw his eyes shut and scramble backwards at its sudden motion, but instead of striking at him, the creature fled back down the hall from where it came, leaving behind blood and charred scales.

Snape stood still, tracking its motion with his Detection spell, confused as to what the creature was doing. It coiled into the safety of the bathroom, and lay there, as if waiting.

Waiting for an order perhaps.

But too late did his thought turn to that of its master.

Snape's wand flung from his hand as his eyes snapped open, in time to be knocked hard into the stone wall. Avery stood before him, diary in hand, while the other levelled his wand against his floored opponent. Snape pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and felt the press of the wand tip to his throat. Had this been only Avery, Snape might have risked physical combat against the boy's untested reflexes. But this wasn't Avery he was facing.

He could recognise those cruel eyes, even from the visage of another. There was no mistaking the Dark Lord's presence in the boy.

"So it is a Slytherin that defies my basilisk?" came Avery's voice, coupled with an unnatural purr. "How unusual… and foolhardy."

But then the hand holding that wand tremored, that snake-like stare from eyes it did not belong to flickered. "Obey!" came the hiss from Avery's serpentine voice as he seemed to struggle with himself.

Without waiting to see what would arise from the boy's struggle against possession, Snape lashed out, launching himself at Avery and using the surprise and his newly acquired height to knock the boy unbalanced and causing him to drop the diary. He hissed in rage as Snape fell upon the book, tearing at its pages in an attempt to harm the spectre.

"Crucio!" came the dreaded cry, before Snape's world lit up in a white hot pain.

Snape's body was wracked with agony never felt by this young form, but reprieve found him as suddenly as the pain, and he lay panting upon the floor. The diary he clutched was prised from his losoe fingers as he struggled to his knees.

"Curious." That voice sounded ponderous. "You act as if… knowingly." Avery stepped before him, stooped to meet Snape's eyes. "Severus Snape, was it? You have a place in this boy's mind. So aware of you, he is. So fearful." He felt that great well of power beyond his mind wall, the overwhelming force of the greatest Legilimens that ever walked the earth. But with a deliberate blink, Snape forced that probing will away, the strength of his Occlumency breaking the probing intent upon its iron will.

Laughter met his ears, Avery's voice twisted with the madness that possessed him. "Young talent. What inspiring potential." The cruelty gleamed in the boy's eyes, a gleam not his own. "A truly terrible waste."

Snape braced himself but the torture tore through him easily, fogging his mind as a scream escaped from his throat. No memory could prepare him for this pain no matter how frequent their association in the past.

"You could have been something, Severus Snape. Talent was always welcome at my side," that demonic voice drawled. Though the pain lifted, the words could barely piece the veil of lasting agony.

Snape curled up in foetal position, his hands clasped about his spasming torso. He could feel the lingering pain clawing at his twitching muscles, his whole body pulled tense, unable to muster the energy to even pull upright.

But as he brushed against the tear in his robes, his hand came in contact with a pulse of power. His deathly focus stone had been torn loose from the safety of its pouch and hung exposed. Weakly he grasped it, without really knowing why he did so, and what he had intended, and immediately the world shifted into that now-familiar monochrome.

His breaths shortened, heart slowing in mockery of calm. His cramping muscles loosened such that he could shift his head, and cast his eyes upon his assailant. Avery, appeared before him no longer. Instead a dark shadow overlay his young features, the cruel visage of a familiar tormentor shone from a far younger and still human figure. Yet still grotesque in vision and in mind. And within his hands was clasped that diary, emanating the foulness that seeped through his body.

Without know what compelled him, Snape mustered all the energy available to him, coiling his fingers about that stone, and struck out as hard as he could at the vile man before him. But he didn't touch the dark spectre, his stone not aimed for human flesh, instead he stabbed the book that the fiend held, square onto its leather-bound cover.

Snape didn't know what his pain-addled mind had expected, but certainly not the scream that issued in Avery's voice. The dark visage of the spirit possessing the boy dissipating from the hole of light that was punched into his centre, the very same hole that had crumbled away from the darkness about the diary, around the stone that touched upon its leather-bound surface.

The touch of the Focus Stone transmuting not the physical properties of the diary, but the otherworldly aspect. The dark soul that clung to the artefact dissipated from both book and boy, leaving both suddenly and miraculously untouched by the foul magics that possessed them.

Snape dropped the stone, with a clatter, gasping for breath as the sights and sounds of the real world came crashing back. Avery hung limply against the wall, conscious but visibly dazed, and Snape had been content for them both to simply exist there for the moment in order to slowly gather their wits. Only, there was a pressing concern that could not be ignored. The sound of scales grating upon stone woke the boys to the impending danger, sending Snape to his feet with a heartfelt expletive. His entire body screamed against the motion as pain wracked his very breath.

"Close your eyes, Avery!" Snape commanded, to which the boy only stared up at him gormlessly.

Without another moment's alternate thought, Snape sent a blinding curse the boy's way, striking the sight from his eyes. With a panic, Avery clutched at his darkened orbs, but was not given longer than to panic.

The great beast slid into their hallway, filling the corridor with its bulk. Snape faced it with his eyes clamped shut, cursing its one unobstructed eye. He pushed his body to move, every step causing his muscles to scream, but he could not engage it in this hallway.

It struck forward, with such speed that Snape almost hadn't the time to fling a door open and dive in. He did not know how the creature would regard Avery, he had to trust it could not tell the difference between the boy's mortal form and the master who had recently commanded it. But Snape wasn't given long to ponder as the basilisk turned its great serpentine head to the door, shifting brick and mortar to squeeze into that ill-fitting space.

It knew Snape's scent, and it was intelligent enough to feel vengeful for the injuries wrought.

Panic was not in Snape's nature, but the realisation that he was trapped with no plan clawed at him, pulling tense his hurt wracked body. He ducked behind the Professor's desk, the sturdiest barrier he could find, every movement painfully slow.

He heard the sound of stone cracking, the door giving way to the bulk of the snake. With a vicious hiss it struck out at the desk Snape hid behind, splintering every student desk that dare stand in its way.

The great smash reverberated the floor, Snape felt his heavy barrier shudder, the terrible sounds of cracking meeting his ears. The creature reared back and struck again, this time its fangs piercing the heavy liquored oak wood, splashes of venom dripping from its tip onto Snape's tattered robes in a hiss of corrosion.

In a last ditch effort, scraping through to the dredges of his maddest ideas, Snape pointed his wand from the eroding shelter of his desk, to a chair strewn on its side. With a desperate push of magic, the furniture disappeared, only to be replaced by the likeness of a living, breathing cockerel.

The creature ceased in its assault, as Snape watched with bated breath, hoping the creature would be fooled. And then he felt it, the rumble of the great serpent struggling to escape through the too tight doorway, retreating under the threat of the pseudo chicken.

Relief flooded Snape as he stood from his shelter, transfiguring several more items into a flock of life-like roosters, directing them forward to chase after the retreating beast who slithered towards the turn of the corridor leading back to its bathroom sanctum. However, but it did not turn into its sanctum, instead fleeing down the winding corridor to escape the flock of perceived pursuing roosters.

It was an entirely too ridiculous turn about to this battle, but Snape was in no shape to derive any amusement. He limped in the opposite direction, passing the whimpering form of Avery. The boy was uninjured, and the blindness was temporary and with the diary's influence defeated, he should need no immediate attention. No doubt the noise would lure Madam Pomfrey from her Hospital wing, and if so Avery would be discovered in due time, owing he could end this battle before the snake chanced upon her.

He hurried against his screaming muscles to reengage the snake before it could wreck further havoc. Without the influence of its master, its purpose is now unpredictable.

His body screamed out in pain as Snape pushed on, one foot after another until he reached the doorway to the Grand Staircase. There he planted his feet and waited for the form of the creature to complete its circuit of the hallway. It had slowed in its movements, possibly due to tiring, or perhaps taking a reprieve as it freed itself from the far slower pursuit of Snape's false-roosters.

As the creature's dark form approached the turn, Snape levelled his wand to the corridor keeping his eyes clamped shut. A great hiss greeted his ears, a warning that the snake had set its one good eye on him with recognition. He felt the creature slither forward with gathering haste, its immense scales scraping along the stones.

Snape flicked his wand forcefully with his silent curse. Sectumsempra. The spell struck the creature, eliciting a roaring hiss but not slowing its immense bulk in the slightest.

With a swift side-step, Snape stepped out into the stairwell, feeling the creature strike and miss inches behind him. With a great rumbling shudder, the creature struck the floor and writhed where it drove itself into the stone. Snape did not allow it a moment's reprieve, flinging curses through the doorway and harassing the blighted serpent.

With alarming quickness, the creature righted itself. Its grotesque head fighting through the archway, cracking through the tight stones. Snape dashed blindly into the railings as the creature coiled to strike. With a swing of his wand, Snape struck out the railing, sending a cascade of marble to the floors below, and flung himself from the ledge as the Basilisk struck at him. Only to catch thin air as it overextended through the shattered barrier, and finding no hold as gravity took hold of its massive bulk, sending it crashing down the stairwell.

A fate that Snape avoided through the power of unaided flight, the only gift of the Dark Lord he had been willing to keep and thankful to receive. He peered down cautiously at the still form of the colossal snake, hoping that the fall would be enough to finish it, but knowing even before he witnessed the first stirs of life that it was too much to hope for from such a short fall.

Snape set himself down upon the bottom flight, stumbling as his muscles screamed in protest of that imperfect landing. With leaded feet, Snape planted them wide, levelling his wand against the creature that was slowly returning to function.

He felt his wand tremble, his every sinew screaming in protest against every movement. His Cruciatus-touched body was giving out as his adrenaline ran to its end. He did not know if he could muster the strength to bring this hard-fought battle to its conclusion.

But thankfully he did not have to.

In a brilliant burst of fiery glory, Fawkes appeared, falling upon the dazed and sluggish basilisk and tore at its last and vulnerable eye. It hissed in rage and pain, striking blindly at the bird that evaded it with embarrassing ease.

With its deadly glare neutralised, Snape finally dared to open his eyes, only to behold the grand figure of Albus Dumbledore standing before the hideous dark creature, his wand raised in silent spell work. Thick dark liquid seeped from its torn pits as it writhed, hissing high with pain. Blood gushed suddenly from its open maw, spilling upon the stone floor as it seized into its coiled mass, and moved no more.

Dumbledore turned to him, a relieved smile upon his bearded face. "You did well, Severus."

"Took you long enough," Snape spat as he leant against the wall, then his trembling legs finally gave way alongside his adrenaline and he slid slowly to the floor.

The headmaster dipped his head, "I apologise. I could not ask Fawkes to engage the basilisk in the tight confines of the corridor."

"But you could risk me."

His heart settled, the danger was over. He had won. He had survived, and found unthinkably complete success. The creature laid slain, its carcass whole for valuable harvest for contributions to the school supplies store, and most likely to Slughorn's infamously sticky fingers, the diary was rendered inert, and an unexpected weapon to wield against their enemies had made itself known. A weapon that he had dropped without another thought.

Snape attempted to push himself to his feet, but Dumbledore motioned for him to still as the headmaster himself assessed his curse-induced trauma. Cruciatus left no true lasting effects physically, something the spymaster would be forever grateful for.

"The diary is on the first floor, by Avery's stricken form." Snape growled through clenched teeth, feeling exhaustion bleach his body. "The boy's alive but unlikely to have gathered himself enough to move. The weapon I had used to destroy it is a focus stone, shaped like a black spear tip, that should lay somewhere within its vicinity. I would suggest you hurry up there before curiosity seekers decide to take it as a souvenir."

Without a word of argument, Dumbledore left his side to ascend the short flight of steps, and Snape leaned his head back to finally rest. He did not know for how long he had closed his eyes, but when warm hands rested upon his cheeks and lifted his face up from his slump against his chest, Lily's green eyes peered down upon him.

"Severus," she breathed, a smile cracking through her concern. Snape winced as she flung her arms about him, jostling his curse-wracked body.

"Out of the way," Madam Pomfrey's voice harried as she bustled into the stairwell. With bleary eyes Snape noticed the great crowds of students gathered upon the first floor flight, staring down with wide-eyed awe. At him. At the body of the great beast. But Lily's eyes were only for him. As the resident matron shooed her from his side, those green eyes never left his.


A/N: ATTACK, MY BATTLE COCKS! I AM THE GENERAL OF THE CHICKEN ARMY!

A/N: Another new year draws near. Happy new year to one and to all!

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 12th January 2018 AEDT.

Chapter 51: Return to the Familiar

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.