HELLO!
I should be sleeping but I am way too eager to share this chapter with you lovely lot. Okay, I used some canon lines for a few descriptions of the Chamber and those will all be in italics. (Not everything in italics is canon, a good portion/most of it is my writing, but I just thought I'd let you know.)
I'll leave the link if you want to vote for Dalliance for Best Pairing (Remione) in the Marauder Medals here again. All you have to do is remove the asterisks. (please vote): https*:*/*docs*.*google*.*com*/*forms*/*d*/*e/*1FAIpQLSc-X4hClylcsnMdq63ePSdLasUOB0CpW2XU49AA1o0Ot0OeYg*/*viewform
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
As always for Sable and Lais x
Memories of the first time he took this journey are flying through Harry's mind. It is like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He can see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward.
Harry knows that they are going much deeper than even the Dungeons.
He knows what awaits them at the bottom.
All of a sudden the pipe levelled out, and he shot out of it with alarming speed and a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.
The memories are so potent, so vibrant and vivid in his mind's eye, and suddenly he feels so much smaller, like he's twelve all over again and all of the uncertainty that he had back then comes rushing back.
He steps away from the end of the pipe, and finally sees Dorea and Sirius warily looking towards the dark tunnel in front of them.
A squeal and a wet thud later Hermione is sitting on the damp floor with a disgruntled expression on her face. Harry extends his hand and Hermione takes it with a grateful smile, he helps her up and then turns to their companions, "stay behind me."
Fawkes makes an almost purring sound when he lands on Hermione's shoulder, cocking his head curiously at the tunnel before them.
Harry approaches the tunnel, licking his lips nervously. He can do this. He did it once before, he can do it again.
With a deep breath he steps into the darkness.
It just kept going, and Harry remembers how he had wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did.
Their footsteps squishing across the wet surface of the tunnel was deafening in the absolute silence. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up, and fear slithers along his spine.
The tunnel is never ending, one bend here and another bend there, but then, at last, as he creeps around yet another bend, he finally sees it—a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents are carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.
Harry approaches, his mouth dry as if stuffed full of cotton wads, his tongue thick and heavy in his throat. There is no need to pretend these stone snakes are real; their eyes look strangely alive.
Harry knows what he has to do, he opens his mouth, smacking his lips together as he works his jaw.
The emerald eyes flicker.
He swallows thickly and then says, "open," in a low, faint hiss.
"Whoa," Sirius marvels as the serpents part and the wall cracks open, the halves slide smoothly out of sight.
Harry takes a deep breath, attempting to soothe his nerves. I can do this, Harry tells himself once more.
He glances over his shoulder at his family—grim faces set with determination stare back at him, Hermione nods once and that's all he needs—and with one more deep breath, he walks inside.
It's exactly how he remembers it.
Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved
serpents rise to support a ceiling lost in darkness casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that fills the place.
"Stay here, wait for my signal," Harry says, clenching his wand tighter as he slowly moves forward.
They had briefly discussed a plan earlier—Hermione and Dorea wanted to talk about it more in depth but Harry explained that there isn't any way to plan for dealing with the basilisk—and Harry is meant to try to tame the beast before they do anything.
As Harry draws level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself looms into view, standing against the back wall.
Harry still has to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It is ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that falls almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor.
Now here comes the hard part, Harry thinks.
"Who's there?" The loud hiss echoes throughout the chamber and a scratching noise hits his ears as scales slide across the smooth floor.
"A friend," Harry hisses back.
"A friend?" The basilisk hisses.
Harry looks directly at his feet, tempted to close his eyes entirely. His palms are clammy and his heart is racing.
"What does this friend want?"
"To get some help," Harry responds.
"Help?" The ancient beast asks, and Harry can sense something akin to amusement in the snake's question. "What, pray tell do you need help with boy?"
I can do this, Harry thinks.
He closes his eyes.
"I just need some help defeating someone."
"Defeating an enemy? Is that so."
Harry nods.
The beast is close now, so close that if it pleased it could strike him easily.
Harry's eyes open a crack and he can see the dark shadows from the snake's body moving about against the ground.
"Why won't you look me in the eye, boy?"
"Perhaps because I know I'll die?" Harry hisses back harshly, somehow feeling more confident than he did previously.
"Smart boy, but you're going to die either way."
There's a loud hiss, and he can see the shadows shift as the snake lifts off the ground, readying itself to strike.
A caw, bright and clear rings through the Chamber and the basilisk's head swivels toward the source of the sound.
Déjà vu. All over again.
The beast makes the same sounds it did the first time Fawkes attacked it and clawed out its eyes. Distress, rage, agony.
Footsteps loudly slap against the ground as Sirius, Dorea and Hermione run to him, Harry turns around to look at them just as the beast lets out one final hiss of ire and Fawkes swoops towards them, landing on the stone floor in the midst of their group.
"BOY. YOU THINK YOU CAN GET RID OF ME THAT EASY?"
"No," Harry hisses.
"It's a good thing I nicked this from that stupid hat," Dorea says as she withdraws the sword of Gryffindor from her pocket, the ruby glinting in the greenish light.
"W-wh-what? You can't just nick the sword of Gryffindor, you have to worthy and pull it out-" Harry starts, but stops when he sees Dorea's prim smile.
Harry frowns, about to ask how she'd shoved it in her pocket but then he remembered that an undetectable extension charm exists. He'll have to ask her later when she even an opportunity to steal it from the Headmaster's office.
Dorea turns the sword around, grasping the blade and gracefully points the hilt in Hermione's direction.
Hermione's mouth hangs agape as she accepts, "why me?"
"I figure you have some unfinished business with our snake friend."
"Guys," Sirius says, grabbing Dorea's arm.
As soon as he speaks, the end of the basilisk's tail swooshes through the air and head straight towards them.
"Fuck!" Hermione swears as they all dive out of the way just in the nick of time.
The wind feels like it's been knocked out of him, and Harry groans as he rolls over onto his back, breathing in deeply before sitting up and checking on the others.
Harry looks across at Hermione, who is wincing as she sits up and when their eyes meet he nods firmly.
Harry jumps up and starts running past the others back towards the tunnel, his feet splashing loudly through the water that is now covering the walkway.
Déjà vu.
Run, Run, Run, is the only thought in his mind.
Run.
Harry can hear the basilisk slithering after him, he can taste its wrath, he can feel its fury and he hear its rage.
Harry doesn't know where he's running to or why, he should have stayed with the others, he shouldn't have separated from the pack.
He pants heavily as he stops in one of the bends, stopping at a dead end. Shit.
Then, silence.
Harry waits for the snake to appear, but it doesn't.
It stopped following him. It realized what he was doing, that he was but one wizard and one of the others must have made a noise to lure it back.
Harry takes off again, part of him wondering if the basilisk isn't just waiting for him, thinking that if given enough time he'll come back straight into a trap and into its awaiting mouth.
Harry bursts back into the Chamber and he hears Hermione scream.
Sirius dives away from the basilisk's mouth that had just slammed into the stone, and it hisses angrily when it straightens up, exposing its long and pointed teeth.
Harry watches as Dorea severs the very end of its tail clean from its body and the beast lets out a mighty cry.
The smile is quickly removed from Dorea's face when the bloody stump lifts off the ground and slams into her, sending her careening across the room.
Hermione is scaling the statue and Harry gets pulled back to that day all over again, except it's him scaling that statue.
I need to buy time, Harry thinks.
Sirius is preoccupied with dodging the beast's mouth as it relentless goes after the raven haired boy.
Harry sets off running again, narrowly avoiding the basilisk as he rushes to Dorea's side. He slips and slides, but manages to crudely halt before tripping over her.
She is holding her head as she sits up, and there is a gash across her head and Harry winces as the blood gushes out with the aid of gravity.
He shrugs off his hoodie and crudely folds it, bending down beside her and pressing it against her wound. He drops his wand beside him in his haste.
Harry glances over his shoulder to see Sirius still distracting the beast.
"I'm a fucking Slytherin you fucking snake!" Dorea snarls nastily under her breath.
"I don't think it cares, Grandma," Harry says, "okay, just keep pressure on that. I'm going to make sure Hermione kills this thing."
Dorea nods absently, one of her eyes closing slightly as she scowls at the beast.
Harry picks up his wand and ducks when the basilisk's tail swipes in his direction, knocking over a pillar in the process instead.
Harry curses under his breath as he avoids the debris, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his cry of pain when a piece of jagged rock slices across his leg. Shaking, he looks down and thanks Merlin that it doesn't look too deep—he can manage it.
Cursing he uses his wand to make a small cut on the bottom of his shirt and he rips a large piece off, leaning down to securely fasten the fabric across his wound. Regardless, crimson quickly seeps through the blue fabric as he runs to Sirius's side.
The boy is covered in sweat from head to toe, his hairline is absolutely drenched and bits of his hair are sticking to his face.
Sirius deftly sidesteps to the right to avoid the basilisk going in for another blow, Harry closes the distance between the two boys and grasps Sirius's arm, his fingers sliding across the boy's skin.
"We need to lure it over there," Harry jerks his head towards where Hermione is poised, looking scared out of her mind and as determined as ever.
The two boys nod and without another moment of hesitation they bolt towards the statue.
"I can hear you boy! I am going to enjoy swallowing you and your friends whole!"
The blood is pumping in his ears, he is warm all over, his fingertips itch and his leg is throbbing painfully—it's bearable, especially compared to some of his other injuries, but it still hurts dreadfully—and his glasses are sliding back and forth across the bridge of his nose.
Harry and Sirius finally reach the statue and they whir around to face the basilisk slithering towards them with immense speed and purpose.
"Hermione! NOW!" Harry yells, and time stops.
He tilts his head back to look up and he sees Hermione sailing through the air, unruly curls flying out behind her as she gracefully dives toward the snake, hands both gripping the hilt.
Harry can feel the hot breath of the basilisk as it nears, and he jumps out to the side, hoping that Sirius followed suit in the other direction.
Harry glances up from the ground to see Hermione on top of the basilisk's head, panting heavily, hands wrapped firmly around the sword's hilt and the blade is sunk directly into the basilisk's skull.
The beast starts to thrash uncontrollably, hissing incoherently, and Hermione is thrown off of the snake, a small cry escaping her lips as she hits the ground with a scarily loud thump. A pained cry spills from her lips as she clutches her arm—she fell sideways and her arm got the brunt of the impact.
The basilisk's head falls to the stone floor with enough force to make it feel like the ground it moving, and then it is still. It is dead.
Harry wants to cry in triumph, but he knows that it isn't a clean victory, they are all wounded to some degree, and they need to get out of this forsaken place as quickly as they can.
Harry gets up and in his peripherals he sees that Dorea has crawled over to Hermione and is looking her over.
She is in good hands, Harry thinks tiredly, all of the energy drained out of him.
He limps over to the basilisk, and on his way he sees the sword vanish from the beast's skull into thin air; most likely returning to its proper home.
Harry reaches into his jean pocket and retrieves the pouch Hermione had placed an undetectable extension charm on and grimaces at how warm around the basilisk's gaping mouth is.
"How are we going to get them out of there without getting our arms shredded and dying from basilisk venom?" Sirius asks.
"That is a spectacular question," Harry responds, " we could sever them and then levitate them into the bag?"
"That sounds like a brilliant plan," Sirius agrees with a heavy sigh, immediately getting to work.
Not too long afterwards, they are all laid up in the Infirmary with Madam Pomfrey fussing over them and Dumbledore sitting neatly on a stool with a perplexed expression on his face.
"A basilisk has been down there this entire time?"
"Yes, Dumbledore. Now can you shut your face? I am in pain and I would like to be spared of further distress by having to listen to you prattle on," Dorea groans, smiling dimly at Poppy as she examines Dorea's head.
"It's probably normally in a state of hibernation," Hermione mumbles absently, grasping her side in agony as whatever Pomfrey had given her works its way through her system.
Sirius is sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed, one hand on her leg in comfort—he has a few cuts and bruises but nothing life threatening.
Harry smiles as he watches Dorea and Dumbledore banter back and forth, he can tell they are both having fun even if they won't ever admit it—the corner of Dorea's lips are curled upwards and Dumbledore's eyes are sparkling with mirth.
A potent sense of victory is palpable in the air, it dances across his skin and seeps into his bones, warming him from the inside.
Not many people get to say they've gone against a basilisk and come out of it victorious...twice.
Harry is floating happily in the sky, a joyous bubble envelops the room and for one moment. Everything is grand.
Then the double doors to the Infirmary burst open and a frantic blond haired boy stands in front of them. Broad shoulders rising and falling, his heavy pants filling the room, bright blue eyes wide with fright, brow dripping with sweat.
"I...I've been looking everywhere for you. L-Lily sent me. There's been an incident," Franks heaves out.
A needle stabs violently into his bubble and despair scurries back, eagerly filling every nook and cranny that it can, clawing desperately at Harry's chest.
The moment is over, and reality has sunk in once again. Harry's heart squeezes tightly and he holds his breath, because what could be so bad that Lily can't come to tell them herself?
