Harry and I stared at the words written in midair, the words that even in front of our eyes, were slowly fading away. I had almost entirely forgotten his hand still clasped within mine, for we were each aware of the situation: standing in front of us was a memory of Lord Voldemort, with a monster only he could control somewhere in the sewer's depths—and neither of us had our wands.

"Do you see now?" asked Riddle, seeming quite pleased by our barely restrained looks of terror. He knew how deeply I was relying on Harry at that moment, for everything in my body was screaming to run away, and the only reason that I did not was because he was with me: that I was not alone. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No—I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"You're not," said Harry. His voice was so quiet, so soft, that both Riddle and I almost missed it… and yet there was such resolve in his face, like something had just made inexplicable sense.

Riddle sneered at him. "Not what?"

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," Harry replied, simple as you please. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so; even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school, and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days."

A nasty look had overcome Riddle's face, breaking through the charming façade he had kept so carefully around me before Harry had arrived. But now, I could see the full extent of the ugliness that lived within Tom Riddle. "Dumbledore has been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!"

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted. "Not as long as there is one person who is still loyal to him!"

Before anyone could respond to these words, an eerie song echoed around the chamber: something unusual, and yet fascinating.

A burst of flame appeared on one of the statues next to myself and Harry. Perched atop the column, in place of the fire, was a majestic phoenix with feathers of red and yellow and blue, and eyes filled with wisdom.

The phoenix hopped down next to Harry and I and dropped something: the Hogwarts Sorting Hat.

Harry reached down and grabbed the hat, unfurling it from where it had lain, now dripping with water. There didn't seem to be anything additional to it, anything extra that could help us against Riddle…

And so Riddle began to laugh, that horrific shrill laugh that only now upon discovering his true identity seemed to suit him. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird, and an old hat. Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

I squeezed his hand tighter; though I kept my eyes upon Riddle, it was to Harry that I said, "Remember, Harry: Dumbledore always has his reasons. I'm here with you, too."

Riddle laughed again. "And what can you do against the King of Serpents, Miss Skylar? You should've let me help you sleep. Now, I'm going to have to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him."

Riddle whirled back towards the greatest statue of Slytherin's likeness; a familiar, bone-chilling hissing and spitting left his mouth. The stone began to grind, and the mouth of the statue began to open—

"Belle," said Harry through gritted teeth. "You were right, it is a basilisk—and it can kill with direct stares. Whatever you do, don't look it directly in the eye."

I took a deep breath and nodded, feeling a conflicting desire of wanting to sprint out of the cavern, and wanting to face this danger once and for all: for Ginny, for Hermione, for everyone else who faced fear and discrimination against this so-called 'Heir of Slytherin' and its monster.

"Understood," I replied. My jaw clenched. "Anything else?"

"Its bite is venomous. And… no matter what happens, I'm with you."

Harry squeezed my hand once and let it go. As the shadows swirled in the opening of the statue's mouth and something began to stir, I whirled around to avoid the creature's gaze. My eyes landed upon his face instead; for the first time, I realized that a streak of blood already lined his face, and he was covered in dust.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I finally smiled. "Always."

A loud hiss crashed through the air, informing us that the serpent had finally been retrieved from its sanctuary. Harry lunged for my hand again and began running us towards the opposite end of the cavern—I knew he didn't have a plan, there was no plan in a situation like this, with no weapons—but I followed him blindly because that was my best friend, and if we were going to die, then neither of us would die alone.

Something was slithering across the floor, making trails and splashes through the water. Even though I was desperate to see how much distance was between us and it, I didn't dare turn around—

We reached the end of the chamber; Harry opened his mouth to speak, perhaps in Parseltongue as a last ditch attempt to get us out of the chamber, but it was already too late. A great shadow was looming above us, in the shape of a ginormous serpent…

Then there was a panicked, painful hissing and spitting. The eerie song of the phoenix had returned through the chamber—while Harry had squeezed his eyes shut, I glanced towards the shadows dancing off the wall. It seemed like the phoenix was attacking the snake's face… the place where its eyes would be.

I took a deep breath and looked around. The basilisk's head was waving through the statues, darting this way and that. Pursuing it was the phoenix, its golden talons covered in scarlet blood.

The basilisk's head smashed into one of the statues, sending shrapnel and stone flying throughout the chamber. I yelped and directed Harry away from where one of the large pieces was heading, and then shouted, "The phoenix is blinding it! The basilisk can't see!"

Harry blinked and whirled around. Something changed in his face as he stared at the two creatures fighting, quite literally, with tooth and nail…

Then he blinked and stared at the Sorting Hat. Something inside it was shimmering—Harry pulled the object forth.

It was a gleaming silver sword, inlaid with rubies.

Somewhere behind us, Riddle was screaming in Parseltongue; it wasn't hard to mistake his tone for anything aside from fury. Upon hearing this, Harry placed a hand on my shoulder. "Get somewhere it can't sense you. I'm going to kill this thing."

"Like hell," I retorted. My eyes scanned the newly ruined battlefield. A number of lumps of stone were lying at my feet, about the size of the Bludgers that I normally dodged upon the Quidditch field.

I bent down quickly and scooped up a number of them, heart pounding ferociously in my chest. "This thing might not be able to smell you with all the blood on its face—it'll rely on hearing you. I'll distract it while you get somewhere with a better vantage point."

Harry nodded curtly and turned to begin running… then he stopped and looked at me over his shoulder. "In case we don't make it, Belle: I didn't blame you. I blamed myself."

Then he began sprinting across the narrow pathway, further into the narrow chamber, towards the grandest sculpture of Slytherin.

For only a split second did I watch him, the thorns and briars around my heart unfurling and finally letting it go. Simple though the statement was, it was enough: some sort of closure from the only time Harry and I had ever disagreed, had ever argued. It was enough.

The phoenix had finally flown away from the basilik's head. Blood dripped down its pointed face, pouring out of its eyes, its nose, falling onto the floor. And yet, when it opened its mouth to hiss, a sharp lance of ice traveled through my veins. Its teeth were sharp, pointed: deadly.

If I wanted to distract the serpent, I needed to gain distance. Clenching my jaw, I hurled one of the rocks on the opposite side of the chamber, bracing myself against the deafening clatter and clanging echoing across the walls.

The basilisk raised its head and turned around, slithering in the direction of the rock. Only once I had free space to maneuver did I begin sprinting towards a space where I wouldn't be trapped—

Riddle began screaming again, hissing and spitting in fury; when I spared a glance over to him, I saw him pointing in Harry's direction—Harry, who was still climbing the sculpture, vying to get a height advantage so he might actually kill the snake.

Slytherin's monster whirled towards Harry, teeth bared.

There was only one choice.

"Hey! Down here, you great, stinking worm!"

The basilisk whirled over in my direction, poising its fangs towards me. Its bloody eye sockets narrowed in the direction of my voice.

I gasped; it was easily as thick as the trunk of an oak tree, and at least ten meters long, too. There was no doubt it could swallow me whole, or bite me in half with one lucky hit. "Blimey, I didn't think this one through…"

It reared back, giving me a split-second warning. I dropped all of the rocks at my feet, allowing them to splash into the water, and dove towards one of the statues, taking refuge behind it as best as I could—

A huge force caused me to yelp and stumble forward; my hands slapped against the damp wall, but I was able to keep myself from falling. The statue that I'd hidden behind had splintered into pieces, more fragments of stone falling into the shallows of the water. The basilisk was hissing again, waving its emerald-green head through the air the way it had when it was blinded.

I reached down and seized more rocks: the only weapon I might be able to use. "Yeah? What's wrong, did you bump your nose?"

Tom Riddle hissed and spat at the basilisk, undoubtedly ushering more orders, but the serpent seemed to pay them no mind. It attempted to pinpoint my location a second time, bared its teeth—

The moment it opened its mouth, I hurled the largest and heaviest of the rocks in my arms towards its front fang. I was a damn Chaser of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a second-year. I knew how to throw a Quaffle, and a smooth stone was no different—I was going to put all that training to use.

The rock cracked into the basilisk's tooth—now the animal was screaming, writhing in pain, withdrawing from me. A chunk of its fang had fallen to the ground, leaving a jagged but still dangerous tooth in its mouth.

"HEY!"

Harry's voice echoed around the Chamber; the basilisk turned towards him instead. But whatever number of seconds I had bought him had been enough—Harry was standing atop the statue with firm footing and the silver sword extended. His eyes flickered to me, shouting a quick message.

Let me take it from here.

That didn't mean I'd let him fight it alone. While its attention was purely on Harry now, I skirted around it, attempting to continue throwing rocks into its maw.

The basilisk lunged towards Harry, missing by a couple of meters. Harry swiped at it with its sword, but didn't seem to deal much damage—I followed up his attack by throwing another rock in the direction of its mouth, but it seemed to have learned its lesson by now, for my weapon bounced harmlessly off its closed mouth.

It lunged a second time; this time, its forked tongue nearly lashed my friend's side. I moved ever so slightly, longing to get a better angle to throw one more rock—

And neglected the way the basilisk's tail was swishing around. As it wriggled and writhed, struggling to locate the exact place where Harry was standing, its tail slammed into my body. The force of the gesture sent me flying back into another statue—I tried to break my fall by extending an arm, but I still hit the statue with an, "Oomph!"

I shrieked as a horrid crack split the air; my arm was wreathed in wretched flame. All of the wind had been knocked out of me due to the blinding pain, the pain so intense that I sank down the stone and into the water below.

"NO! Come on, then! Come on!"

Even though my eyes were watering, I forced my gaze towards Harry and the basilisk. For the third time, it lunged—but this time, my friend had a pale but determined look to his face. He screamed and lunged forward; the tip of the sword protruded through the roof of its mouth, no longer silver, but covered in red.

The basilisk slipped down from atop the statue of Salazar Slytherin; Harry yanked the sword out of its mouth with a grunt of effort—and then I saw it.

A single fang, embedded in his arm.

"No," I whispered. That horrid burning still enveloped my arm, but it dulled as I staggered to my feet, in the direction of Harry Potter. "No…"

A huge THUD and the ensuing quake of the cavern proved that the basilisk had hit the floor. Harry was descending from his vantage point, his robes covered in blood and dust, torn and destroyed. When at last he reached solid ground again, he stumbled forth into my good arm.

"Harry?" I gasped, lowering us both towards the ground. "Harry, are you…"

With a low groan, Harry somehow managed to get himself back onto his knees. He offered me a weak smile and squeezed his eyes shut. "Least we got it, huh?" He yanked the fang out of his forearm with a gasp.

I swallowed hard, noting the blackness of his veins closest to the puncture wound. I had nothing… nothing to help him. Restraining a sob, I said, "Yeah. At least you got it."

"You helped. We got it. And you, Fawkes… you were brilliant."

Sitting next to us, staring towards us with unblinking eyes, was the phoenix. The bird was clearly intelligent, for it leaned forward and looked purposefully into the injury on Harry's arm… then it blinked. Pearly white tears landed upon his skin.

"So ends the famous Harry Potter," mused Voldemort, a nasty smirk on his face. "In the Chamber of Secrets with the friend he could not save, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry… Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must."

In all the chaos with the basilisk, I had completely forgotten: the real enemy was Tom Riddle, Voldemort, who was draining the life out of Ginny and would soon do so with myself. Tears began welling in my own eyes as I lunged forth and seized Harry's hand.

"At least we got it," I rasped. Because that was all we could hold onto: the fact that we had killed the basilisk, and it wouldn't be a threat to anyone in Hogwarts ever again…

As I looked upon Harry, however, he didn't look weak at all. Quite the contrary, his expression grew stronger. My eyes fell upon his wound—the wound that was no longer there.

"Phoenix tears, of course," whispered Riddle, seemingly astonished. "Healing powers. I forgot… but it makes no difference."

Riddle raised Harry's wand—and was interrupted by Fawkes's screech. The phoenix had taken flight again, swirling around where Ginny lay. He picked something up in his talons and then dropped it into Harry's lap.

Tom Riddle's diary.

Bemused, the three of us looked at it. But then, without any foresight whatsoever, Harry seized the diary and the basilisk fang laying next to him, and drove the tooth straight into the book's cover.

The shriek that followed was a piercing sound of pure, unbridled devastation. Ink started pouring out of the diary and trailing across the stone floor, staining Harry's hands, mingling with the basilisk's blood.

Seeing how potent this action was, Harry stabbed it a second time—he flipped it over and stabbed it a third—

And just as soon as it started, the screaming was gone. The image of Tom Riddle disappeared with a great explosion of perfectly white light, and then it was over.

Harry and I stared at each other for the briefest of seconds—then I launched towards him and threw my good arm around him with a soft sob.

There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn't say any of it. I simply held him close, the way he did to me, and rested my cheek upon his shoulder.

A soft moan beside us caused us to part—we looked over just in time to see Ginny Weasley open her eyes and sit up.

"Ginny!" I gasped, attacking her with a hug as well. I could only imagine how confused she was, how terrified she must have been all year…

As it was, Ginny burst into tears as soon as she took in the scene around her. Through her cries, she sobbed, "Oh, B-Belle—I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy, and I felt—I felt it coming on—it was me, but I… I swear I d-didn't mean to—"

"It's all right," Harry said, holding out the diary. "Riddle and the basilisk are both finished. Everything's going to be okay, Ginny. C'mon, let's get out of here…"

A nervous laugh escaped my mouth at these last few sentences. For the majority of the day, I'd hardly dared to think of being able to leave the Chamber.

"I'm going to be expelled! I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and now I'll have to leave and—w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"

Fawkes the phoenix soared above us as we walked on. I squeezed onto Ginny's hand and did my best to encourage her that it had been obvious she was enchanted or possessed, and that she couldn't be held liable for that—Harry kept his arm around my shoulder as he guided us out into the entrance.

"Ron!" yelled Harry. "I've got them! They're okay!"

A shaky cheer sounded behind some collapsed rock; it was certainly Ron. As soon as he saw his little sister, he shouted, "Ginny!" and launched an arm through a gap in the rock to pull her through. "You're alive—Belle, bloody hell, I'm so glad—I don't believe it! What happened? Where did that bird come from?"

"He's Dumbledore's," answered Harry, hauling himself through the rock. He turned around to help me get through as well.

"How come you've got a sword?"

"I'll explain when we get out of here. Where's Lockhart?"

I snorted at this last and stared incredulously at Harry. Noting his raised eyebrow, I exclaimed, "I'm sorry, I could've just sworn I heard you ask where Gilderoy Lockhart was."

"Oh, he's here," Ron promised gravely, nodding towards a pile of rocks somewhere behind him. "His memory's gone. He tried casting a Memory Charm on us, but it backfired. Hit him instead of us, hasn't got a clue who he is, where he is, or who we are. I told him to wait here; he's a danger to himself."

And true to his word, up popped Lockhart from behind a pile of rubble. Shooting us a pleasant look, he exclaimed, "Hello! Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"He'll need immediate medical attention when we get back up there," I sighed. Although Lockhart had been an absolute prat all year, not even he deserved to have his entire memory wiped…

Fawkes cawed gently and landed again on Harry's shoulder. Harry grinned back at him and nodded towards me, saying, "How about it, Fawkes? Can you heal broken bones as well?"

I blinked, suddenly realizing—shit, my arm was hurting. Now that it had been brought back to my attention, tears began welling up in the corner of my eyes.

The bird cooed gently and hopped onto my shoulder from his own; despite being the size of a fully grown swan, Fawkes did not weigh much at all. He glanced down towards my arm and blinked once, twice, three times… those same pearly tears landed upon my arm, providing instant relief. The burning across my limb had been quenched with the first tear—and then I was able to move it as I would normally.

Smiling, I scratched the feathers atop the bird's head. "Thank you, Fawkes."

He blinked again and cocked his head sideways, as though pleased with himself. Then he extended one of his legs towards Harry in an expectant manner.

"Of course," Harry murmured. "Phoenixes can carry heavy loads."

He grabbed Fawkes's leg and looked over at me, wordlessly extending his other hand. I smiled and grabbed it, interlocking my fingers with his. Ron grabbed my other hand, wrapped his arm around Ginny, and she grabbed onto Lockhart—as soon as we were all ready, Fawkes took off. There was a great lurch and then we were in the air, flying back up towards the entrance. I couldn't help but laugh lightly as Lockhart shouted, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!"

Finally, our feet were back on the ground of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The sinks began to slide back into their normal place with that same deafening grinding noise, and then it was like the Chamber had never been opened.

Waiting for us with no small amount of shock in her spectral eyes, was Moaning Myrtle. "You're alive."

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," remarked Harry, who was wiping his glasses on his robe with a slight grin.

"Oh, well, I'd just been thinking… if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," Myrtle murmured, suddenly refusing to look Harry in the eyes.

Harry chuckled lightly, but gestured for us to move on.

"Where now?" asked Ron.

"McGonagall's office," Harry replied immediately. "We need to tell her that everything is finally over."

With this idea set in mind and Harry's arm still around my shoulder, we set off to go see our Head of House.