The sword of Gryffindor

I felt stupid putting the old rusty sorting hat on. "Please, help me. Teach me how to conjure a rooster. Or something. I don't care. Please, just do something."

The old sorting hat chuckled. "So we meet again. Impressive as you've grown, young Draco. How very brave of you not to run. How very brave indeed.. I fear conjuring a rooster would take too many tries. But I might have something else that could help you." I felt something hard hit the back of my hat and I almost fell to the ground. I grabbed inside the hat, felt something and took it out. In my hands was now a glooming silver sword with rubies the size of edges.

I looked admiringly at it and Vin looked impressed. We ran to the chamber. "NO!" We heard Riddle screaming. "LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!" I felt a surge of energy. My heart leaped. Hope. Potter was fine for now. The bird must have saved him. I started running faster.

The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers— Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Potter. I looked straight to the snakes face, forgetting the deadly stare and then instead of dying I looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony. "KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! SNIFF—SMELL HIM!"

I look at Vin, thinking fast. "Take care of Ginny, try to see if you can destroy the diary." I start running towards Potter, who stand up, looking shocked at me. We dodge the snake that lunged blindly. Potter starts climbing the wall, which has an intricate pattern of snakes. He lends me hand. I take it. Climbing with the sword is difficult. Between the deep ridges in the walls we might be more safe. Not bad, Potter.

"Look out," Potter screams. The snake is done swaying and is lunging at us. For a moment I want to hide as deep into the ridge as possible, then I extend my arm, closing my eyes in fear.

I threw my whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth—But as warm blood drenched my arms, I felt a searing pain just above my elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into my arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.

I feel myself losing grip on the wall. My vision is getting blurry. I start sliding down the wall, but Potter grabs me. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through my body and wrenched it out of my arm. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Potter looked angrily at the fang and threw it as far away as he could. It hit the mouth of Salazar Slytherin and then fell down.

A patch of scarlet swam past, and I heard a soft clatter of claws beside me.

"Fawkes," said Potter thickly. "You were fantastic, Fawkes..." I felt the bird step unto my shoulders and lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced me.

I could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of us.

"You're friend is dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice below us. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."

Then with a loud sound the fang clattered to the ground. My vision was getting better. Vin stood there, the diary in his hand, slightly sweating. He took the fang and pushed it into the diary.