DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns everything
"You're dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."
Harry blinked. Fawkes' head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers.
"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."
Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.
"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry… She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must…"
If this is dying, thought Harry, it's not so bad.
Even the pain was leaving him…
But was this dying? Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus.
Harry gave his head a little shake and there was Fawkes, still resting his head on Harry's arm. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound — except that there was no wound.
"Get away, bird," said Riddle's voice suddenly. "Get away from him — I said, get away —"
Harry raised his head. Riddle's hand blurred as a spell exploded out of the Holly and Phoenix wand. The flash of silver light illuminated the walls of the chamber, the outline of the massive basilisk, and the frozen chamber floor.
Fawkes.
Riddle was aiming for Fawkes.
Time seemed to pause right in front of Harry's eyes as the boy himself did the unthinkable. From an impossible angle, Harry snatched Fawkes with his off hand and held the phoenix out of harm's way. Fawkes tired trill told him the phoenix was not harmed.
What the hell…
Harry looked at his recently punctured arm. It was fully healed.
"Phoenix tears…" said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm also . "Of course… healing powers… Iforgot…"
He looked into Harry's face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter… you and me…"
He raised the wand again. The diagonal slash that heralded utter destruction was almost complete when Harrymanaged to throw himself out of the way. The liquid fire Riddle conjured left spots in Harry's vision as it hit the gaping mouth of the dead basilisk.
There was a colossal explosion.
Burnt flesh and pulverized bones flew in every direction, along with spurts of oily liquid Harry had no trouble recognizing.
A jet of Basilisk venom flew through the air, and splashed directly onto the open pages of the diary. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing ,and then —
He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.
Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just traveled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a simple tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk's partially destroyed mouth.
Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. As Harry hurried toward her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.
"Harry — oh, Harry — I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy— it was me, Harry — but I — I s-swear I d-didn't mean to — R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over — and — how did you kill that — that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I rremember is him coming out of the diary —"
" It's all right," said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here —"
He looked around. Now that his breathing had returned to normal, he suddenly realized that his vision was foggy. Instinctively, he took his glasses off with the hand holding the sword while helping Ginny to her feet with the other. Fawkes was trilling softly on his shoulder.
They trudged silently back through the chamber entrance and began the long walk back towards the pipes. After what seemed to be a long and awkward 15 minutes, they finally heard the sound of grinding stones. "Ron!" Harry yelled, speeding up. "Ginny's okay! I've got her!"
He heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and they turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rock fall.
"Ginny!" Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How — what — where did that bird come from?"
"Dumbledore's," said Harry, squeezing through himself.
"How come you've got a sword?" said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry's hand.
"I'll explain when we get out of -," said Harry. But he was cut short.
Crunch.
"Hello," said Lockhart, regaining his footing. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"
"No," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry. Harry snorted.
Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway of Professor McGonagall's office, having just been transported by fawkes. Then the ongoing interrogation lasted for hours and hours, during which Lockhart was sent to the hospital wing by Dumbledore's implicit suggestion. At long last-
Bang!
The office door flew open. Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.
"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly.
Mr. Malfoy almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face as the venerated wizard and his seething master sized each other up verbally.
Harry watched Dobby closely. The elf's sockets had a purplish hue around it that had certainly not been there the last time they met. Then he made eye contact with the tennis-ball sized eyes.
The diary belongs to Master.
Harry blinked.
The diary belongs to Master.
Was he imagining, or had he just read the elf's mind?
Straightening up, trying to push his luck, Harry said directly to Mr. Malfoy: "Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?"
Lucius Malfoy rounded on him. "How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he said.
"Because you gave it to her," said Harry. "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"
He saw Mr. Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench.
"Prove it," he hissed.
Barely had the words left his mouth did Harry's eyes bored into Lucius'.
A face, whiter than a skull, red eyes with slits for pupils…
"Luciusss…, my faithful servant, you shall be honored with Lord Voldemort's personal heirlooms…
"and the same goes to you, Bella…"
"ENOUGH!"
Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he took a staggering steps backward, hit some of the shelves covering McGonagall's walls and heard a muffled thud. Lucius was shaking slightly, very white in the face. The hat he had worn when he had barged into the room had fallen off.
It was Dumbledore's light chuckle that diffused the thick silence.
"I would advise you, Lucius," began Dumbledore, speaking softly yet clearly "not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. Alas, you, like many others, have had enough memories of Voldemort to last a lifetime , it seems."
Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf. "We're going, Dobby!" But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Lucius' hat as though it were a priceless treasure.
"Master has given hat," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby."
Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf then he lunged at Harry.
"You've lost me my servant, boy!"
In a tenth of a second, Harry flicked out his wand and spoke the spell that first came to his mind.
"Petrificus totalus!"
But instead of freezing the irate man, a sudden heat exploded out of Harry's wand.
A wave of concussive blast resonated through the spacious room as Harry himself dived out of the way just in time. Lucius, however, was not so lucky. Thanks to the fact that the door was ajar, Lucius flew bodily out of the room instead of crumpling against the mahogany door. The occupants in the room could hear the grunts of pain become more and more distant through the half-open door.
Harry looked around. Dumbledore had his wand out too, and was looking grim. It looked as though he had shielded the majority of the room from the explosion. Dobby was getting clumsily to his feet at the far side of the room, looking slightly disoriented.
"Your wand, Harry" said Dumbledore gently, motioning toward Harry's right hand .
Dropping his eyes, Harry received a slight shock that his wand tip was smoking slightly. Tendrils of smoke rose from the blackened tip as the wood itself seemed to shudder slightly. " Yes, err…sir. I'll have my wand…checked out, during the holidays. If you'll excuse me sir…"
"Certainly, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly. Harry nodded and walked of the office. Out in the corridors, Harry could not help but hear a small sigh from the room he had just vacated.
The rest of the final term passed too fast for Harry's liking. The only good news were that Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled and Lucius
Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. The aftermath of the chamber debacle had some rather disconcerting effects. The most noticeable change was that his wand seemed to be agitated, and twitched when his hand got too close. Secondly, Harry learned that he did not need glasses anymore, and that his other senses seemed rather sharper than before. This is particularly annoying since some innocent everyday noises might startle him, sometimes in the dead of night. Last but not least, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be following him everywhere, cracking their knuckles menacingly.
Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny got a compartment to themselves. Everyone, except Harry, made the most of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays.
Harry looked out of the window as the others tried the disarming charm over and over again. He had conveniently forgot to ask Hermione about the malfunctioning of his wand since returning from the chamber. The simple body-bind spell had felt so wrong and so powerful at the same time that Harry hadn't dared to try to use his wand after the incident, something that Hermione had been quick to notice during their final practical classes. The teachers most certainly had noticed as well, but they were regarding him with such reverence that Harry thought McGonagall and Dumbledore must have told the entire staff of the chamber incident and about Harry's wand conditions. All in all, the teachers themselves also seemed to be in rather festive spirits , so the lack of practice went relatively unnoticed.
Harry was brought out of his musing by Hermione's voice."Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they, Harry?"
"Huh?" was the eloquent response.
Hermione shook her head in vexation as Fred sniggered. " Always the humble git, Harry." Said George. Ron choked on his fifth helping of chocolate frogs.