It was cold. Dark. Nagini was gone, and his Master was looming above him with the most terrible of expressions on his face.
You are taking too long, Horcrux.
Lead them out. It is time.
And behind the Dark Lord, something massive was shifting. A shadow was rising up behind his Lord. Harry tried to cry out, to warn his Master of the danger behind him, but Voldemort only smiled at his panic.
Lead them out.
Keep your eyes closed.
Harry startled awake. He instinctively reached to pet Nagini, to caress her; her cool scales would calm him, help him relax back into sleep. But she was gone.
Blue eyes were staring at him. But his Master's eyes were red!
Where was he?
Harry tried sit up, but strong arms held him down. "Calm down, Mate."
"Ron?" It was just a nightmare. Or a vision. His Master's words filtered back into his mind.
Lead them out.
You are taking too long.
He was failing his Master. He had to work faster!
"Sssshhhh!" Small hands began to rub circles on his shoulders. Hermione was there, and she was trying to calm him down. "It was a nightmare. You're safe now. You're with us, Harry. Everything will be ok."
"What happened?" Harry asked, still confused from sleep. He looked around. It looked like everyone was awake and staring at him. Had he been screaming?
"You tell us, Mate," Ron said. He looked hopeful "Was it a vision? What did you see? Did you see my-"
"We've got to get out of here!" interrupted Harry. "He knows we're here! We've got to get out!"
That seemed to get a reaction from everyone. They stopped gawking at Harry, and began to look around, as if Voldemort would immediately emerge from some dark shadow.
"What!" Hermione's eyes were wide, panicked. "You saw that? Just now?"
Harry nodded desperately. "We've got to get out!" he repeated. "Come on!" He managed to push Ron aside, and stand up. He headed towards to the door to the main chamber. He hoped he'd be followed.
"How close is he?" Hermione asked, her voice high. "Do we have time to try to find another way out?"
"Well we have to, don't we," Ron said, looking around as if in search of something. "Ginny! George! Grab your kits! Everyone, let's go!"
"I think we have time to get to the main entrance before he gets here," Harry answered, but as he did so his left arm burned. Was this in response to his words just now, Harry wondered? Another painful flare answered. "Or not…"
The student rebels gathered around, many clutching blankets and other supplies. Hermione yelled out, "Leave everything but your emergency kits and wands! Do you have your buddy? This is not a drill! Come on, everyone! Evacuate!"
Harry was impressed at how quickly everyone paired up. Hermione with Ron, George and Ginny, Dean and Seamus. A small sea of others.
Ginny looked guilty at already having a partner, at leaving Harry alone. But Harry wasn't alone. Nagini was already brushing against his leg again, and guiding him out of the chamber. He would have to be swift to follow her to where he knew his Master would be waiting for them. "This way," he called over his shoulder. "Someone get up here with some light."
Ron and Hermione hurried forward. "You didn't get a wand," Hermione scolded. "Don't get separated from us."
"We can't lose you again, Mate," Ron added, nervously. "You seem to know where to go all of a sudden."
Harry just nodded, his concentration all on following the snake guiding him invisibly by the intermittent brush of scales against his leg.
In their panic, only Harry seemed to notice that the Basilisk skeleton was missing from the main Chamber.
Hermione quickened her step to move alongside him, and Harry had to guide her around to his right side, so that she would come nowhere near Nagini. He wished she would stay further back entirely. She said, "I think the most likely statue we should try is this way, Harry." She grabbed his arm, trying to get him to stop.
He shook her off. "No, we've got to go this way. I think I saw something earlier. I just didn't realize what it was until now." They had to keep moving. His Mark burned again. I'm coming!
Hermione frowned, biting her lip. "You didn't mention anything—"
"I didn't realize, okay?" The Mark began to burn hotter now. What was he doing wrong? Harry stopped, and the stream of rebels came to a halt behind him. Where was Nagini? She wasn't there anymore! Harry looked frantically around. There was nothing here! There was no exit!
He heard grumbles around him. No one seemed pleased at being woken by his frantic vision in the middle of the night, then dragged on a wild snake chase through the Chamber of Secrets, looking for a way out.
"It was just a nightmare," he heard from Seamus. "Remember all those he used to have?" More murmuring and muttering.
"Everyone back to the fire. Try to get some sleep." That was George. He sounded fed up and more than a little irritated at being woken up, seemingly needlessly.
Why wasn't anyone taking him seriously? "It was a vision," he whispered.
At least the pain in his arm had faded.
And there was Nagini, brushing against him again, wrapping around and around him, until she was slung around his neck.
And she was visible.
Screams.
Then everyone was backing up towards him, frantically, trying to get away from something in the main Chamber.
Harry closed his eyes.
His arm was cool again, and pleasure washed through his scar. His Master was happy.
His friends were screaming. Harry took comfort in that, for while they were screaming, they were alive. Harry fought to keep his eyes closed, though he doubted he could have even glimpsed the Basilisk through his tears. He reached up and stroked Nagini. She hissed soothing nonsense to him. "Nagini is here. Brother is safe. Master is here. Brother is safe. Brother must keep his eyes closed. Little snakeling is safe. Nagini is here…"
Harry's knees finally buckled, and he knelt as gently as he could, making sure he didn't crush any of his sister's coils. She wrapped herself around him. He could hear the odd cry of his name, and perhaps someone yelled out that he was being crushed, but he wasn't sure. There was so much yelling, so much screaming. The world had exploded in terror and he was blind to it all. He pet Nagini's head and took comfort in her soft hissing.
An eternity passed before the screams subsided. Small, terrified murmurs could still be heard here and there, which was a relief, as well as the unsettling scraping of a huge, scaled body on the stone floor. Finally, after Harry's heartrate had nearly slowed to its normal rate, Voldemort's commanding, high voice called out through the cavern, "It is done. Those that remain, open your eyes and behold your fate. That includes you, Harry."
It took great faith in his Master for Harry to open his eyes, and he hoped that the Dark Lord was too preoccupied to witness his doubts. This would have been a perfect opportunity, after all, for Voldemort to have used Harry to lead him to the remaining rebels, and then kill them all. One simple command and the Basilisk would finish them all off.
Harry willed himself to open his eyes, though he did it gradually, shamefully, peering through fluttering eyelashes before opening them wide at last and taking in the destruction.
More than half of the rebels—his friends!—were gone, petrified and still forever. A few lucky, or perhaps not-so-lucky, students were curled up on the floor, cowering with their arms thrown over their head, as if that could protect them from a vengeful Dark Lord and a hungry Basilisk.
From the Chamber entrance, the Dark Lord held out his left hand, summoning all their wands to it. He watched Harry closely. No wand was forthcoming from him, of course, and Harry was gratified by the nod that came from his Master. He had done well in obeying the rule to remain wandless. Even surrounded by so much misery, Harry allowed himself a tiny smile at that small success.
"Congratulations to all who have survived the initial cull," the Dark Lord said. "Your continued survival depends now upon yourself. Will you submit to my will, and to that of my new regime? If so, consider following my last order your first act of obedience. Otherwise, you will meet death blind, for I will not hesitate to cast the Killing Curse on any who will not kneel properly and behold your new Lord. Open your eyes!"
Harry was glad he was already kneeling, though he did shift his body into a somewhat more respectful position. It was hard with Nagini weighing him down. He made up for it by inclining his head and averting his eyes in a show of deference. Around him, at least one other survivor had moved into a submissive kneel as demanded, though Harry couldn't make out who with his peripheral vision. At the sound of movement, the other rebels followed suit, slowly kneeling before their new Lord. He supposed even his Gryffindor friends understood that there was no honour in dying like this.
"Excellent," the Dark Lord praised. "Now, speak your names, that I might know my new servants. We will begin with…" and here the Dark Lord paused, then turned to Harry. "We will begin with your Saviour. Not that he requires any introduction, but I do believe there are those amongst you who do not believe it is truly him. So, Chosen One. Your name."
"Harry Potter, my Lord." Harry tried to imbue his words with as much reverence as he could. Perhaps his friends might follow his example. Perhaps some of them might still be spared.
Around him, Harry could hear the sharp intakes of breath from shock as the others heard the manner in which he addressed the Dark Lord. Off to his right came a disdainful mutter of "I knew it." George.
"Very good, Harry. What about you?" The Dark Lord had moved on and was addressing someone to Harry's right.
A quiet cough, and a timid "Hermione Granger" was heard. Oh, thank god! Harry thought. He hoped beyond hope that she would be allowed to live. He couldn't lose everyone, and Hermione-smart, caring Hermione—she had stuck with him through everything. He couldn't lose her now!
But she had been part of the Horcrux hunt. She knew. Would his Master let her live? Then again, Ginny had said that they all knew now. She was as damned as any of them.
"Ah, Harry's Mudblood friend," Voldemort said, sounding eminently pleased. "If I recall correctly, it was you who originally deduced that Slytherin's monster was a Basilisk?"
"Yes…" She left off all honorifics, but her voice was small, scared. Not defiant. The continual pulse of his Master's satisfaction through his scar was a relief. Perhaps she would be allowed to live.
"I am pleased that you survived, Miss Granger. I believe your support will be most useful to me. But just to be sure…" and the Dark Lord's wand was out and sweeping over Hermione. A red light, and she was stunned.
"Thank you, Master," Harry breathed. He was so happy. If no one else survived, this would be enough. It would have to be enough.
The next rebel wouldn't answer Voldemort's deadly roll call. Harry allowed himself to discretely glance over to see who was so blatantly begging for death by their disobedience.
It was Ginny. But she didn't look defiant at all, which surprised Harry a lot. He had expected her to be all fire and venom, spitting impotent curses at the man before her who had caused both her and her family so much misery. But no, that wasn't what had silenced her at all. She was shaking, her eyes wide as if she were seeing things that no one else could see. She was mouthing something, though. Tom. Tom. Tom.
Harry realized, horrified, that she was reliving her ordeal during her first year. The trauma had simply gotten too much for her. She couldn't respond to their Lord's demands.—she was too overcome with her memories.
Another flash of red, and Ginny's trembling stopped abruptly.
Dean was next. Then several sixth years that Harry didn't know that well. Everyone was stunned. Harry was so pleased with his Master's benevolence and mercy, that he nearly began crying again in happiness.
Finally it was George's turn. He refused to speak, but his silence was accompanied by a hate-filled glare cast straight at the Dark Lord. Harry was both amazed and appalled. How could George not quake at the mere sight of his glorious Master? This was Lord Voldemort! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!
"Ah," the Dark Lord said lazily. "Another Weasley, or am I mistaken? There are so many of you red-haired Blood Traitors. Which one are you?"
"Fred," George lied.
"Interesting, as Fred Weasley is on the casualty list from the Battle of Hogwarts. Well, if you are deceased, then it shouldn't matter if my sweet Basilisk feasts upon your flesh. You are, decidedly, a more animated corpse than she is used to consuming. However, I'm certain she will think of it as a challenge. Obscuro. Harry, close your eyes once more."
When the Dark Lord began hissing, George finally blurted out, panicked, "George! George Weasley, alright? And if you're going to murder me, I want to see it coming!"
"A true Gryffindor," Voldemort sneered. "So eager to die, but for all the wrong reasons. Also, Rodent, understand that execution is not murder. You have been spreading dissension amongst my people, our people. Spreading lies and discord. But I am a merciful Lord, as your young friend Harry can attest. Submit and I might find it in me to forgive you. After all, you have been misguided up until now. And our new world needs brave, creative young men such as yourself. So what will it be, young Weasley? Will you not bow to your Lord?"
"Go fuck yourself." It was the last thing either twin would ever say.
Harry was spared watching Voldemort's Killing curse hit his former friend, though he couldn't block the ugly words or the quiet thump of George hitting the Chamber floor. He hoped that his Master would take him above ground to rest with Fred. They had been separated for too long already.
"Of course, Harry. There are enough meals for the Basilisk amongst the petrified rebels. You may open your eyes again. Nagini, come to me."
Nagini unwrapped herself and slithered off of Harry, leaving him chilled. Harry opened his eyes and finally allowed himself to look around freely. Everyone was either dead or unconscious. Ron was dead. His eyes were open, as unseeing as his brother's beside him.
Luna hadn't survived. Her body was frozen forever, though she didn't look frightened. She was gazing forwards as if in absolute awe at gazing upon such a fabled creature. Poor Luna. Felled by her innocent curiosity. Of all of them, she hadn't deserved this.
"I can bring her back, Harry. I can bring any of them back. They aren't even truly dead. Merely petrified—I have 'muzzled' the Basilisk's gaze, so to speak. I could not risk losing the soul piece in you, after all, even if I am now able to resurrect anyone I so choose. In regards to the petrified rebels, however, a simple restorative draught will suffice in reanimating them." Voldemort strode towards Harry, Nagini once again draped over his shoulders. "What say you, Saviour? Shall I be merciful? Who shall live, and who shall remain frozen forever?"
"Master," Harry whispered, overcome with gratitude. "Yes, please be merciful to her, Master."
The Dark Lord reached out and stroked the side of Harry's face with the back of his fingers. Harry leaned into the caress, but Voldemort quickly pulled away and stepped back.
"I think I have been merciful enough, though, Horcrux. I have allowed you to keep the Mudblood, after all. And the Weasley girlfriend of yours. I wouldn't want a repeat of Severus' treachery, after all. This disgusting love," Voldemort spat, derisively, "that makes you pathetic fools think to renounce your oaths to me."
"Master, I would never…" and Voldemort's hand was on his face again, but this time the fingers were painfully grasping his jaw, the sharp nails cutting deep into his cheek. Harry whimpered.
"I will allow one of them to live, Horcrux. Only one."
So much for the Dark Lord's mercy. Harry was barely scraping enough for himself right now, though. He couldn't advocate any more on his friends' behalf. They would have to fight for their own lives. Perhaps if they were recalcitrant and obedient enough they would be allowed to live. "Yes, Master," he agreed. Voldemort released his jaw, and Harry bend down and kissed the Dark Lord's feet. He had to prove his devotion. His Master thought he would betray him! For a girl!
His Master's hand was ready to pet his hair when he was up on his knees again, then the gentle caress of fingers over the gouges on his face, followed by a quick Episkey, and the pain was gone. "Of course you wouldn't, Harry. But had you not thought that I might betray you? I heard your thoughts. You had wondered if I would kill you too."
It was true. Harry had doubted. "Yes, Master. Please forgive me."
Another caress. "You shall have to make it up to me, Horcrux."