A/N: Thank you all so so much for sticking around for this story, for having patience, and for enjoying it so much. I have been working on this chapter for a little while now and I am finally satisfied enough with it to share! To my veteran readers, this one is for you. To my newbies, I am so happy you came to join us. I am hoping to work on the next chapter over the weekend and have it published no later than next week now that I am back in the groove.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Hermione rounded corner after corner and descended to each floor as quickly as the rotating staircases in Hogwarts would allow. The hallways were dimly lit by the wind-wicked sconces that fought against the dampness in the air. Knowing her friends were safe in their common rooms with the exception of Christopher, Hermione focused on the task at hand: finding Riddle and the basilisk—whichever came first. Her mind raced as she attempted to grasp at an inkling of a plan, only to come up short. She had only her wand and her wits about her—for whatever they would be worth after imbibing and dancing herself into a full exhaustion. Her adrenaline was the only thing keeping her moving forward.

Thankfully Hermione didn't encounter any professors or prefects in the halls. She wagered that they were still wrestling students from the dance floor and guiding them into their dorm rooms. At Dumbledore's direction, she was sure the faculty were doing so as efficiently as possible. Alternatively, she was sure that they may soon resort to knocking out the most raucous students with a wave of the wand and send them to the infirmary to marinate for a few hours in the downed spiked cider until they rushed to the lavatory to expel whatever remained.

The lavatory. Hermione nearly stumbled over her own feet as she remembered the ever-wailing ghost that mocked her after her failed attempt at brewing a Polyjuice potion to turn her likeness into that of Pansy Parkinson.Moaning Myrtle.She would become Riddle's first victim. Hermione took in a deep breath. Myrtle would die by meeting the gaze of a basilisk—Riddle'sbasilisk. He would then use her murder to split his soul and create his first horcrux—the diary.

Hermione immediately redirected her path. She would have to reach the girls' lavatory on the second floor before the basilisk if Myrtle were to have a chance of surviving the encounter. She cursed herself for losing time, for thinking Riddle would be passive when faced with the opportunity to wreak chaos on the night of the Halloween Ball. She had been horribly foolish, but she had not forgotten her mission. Hermione had not forgotten Dumbledore's intention for sending her back in to Riddle's era but, somehow, she simply believed that she would have had more time. Her chest tightened as she ran, proving even further that the assumption she had was sorely incorrect. She had run out of time. Dumbledore's faith had been misplaced. Alphard had chosen wrong. She was a part of nothing more than a hastily written, false prophecy intended to be a last resort. Riddle was right. She wasa fraud.

But she was also the last line of defense in preventing the death of an innocent student and the creation of Riddle's first horcrux. She would have to try. Hermione's eyes stung at the threat of tears building in her eyes. How would she take on a basilisk? She barely understood her ability to speak to Nyoka, and under Riddle's command surely the beast held fealty to him and him alone. Hermione recalled her petrification during her second year at Hogwarts—how her studious nature had saved her from the basilisk's deathly glare. She had used a mirror as she walked the halls as a precaution when she rushed to find Harry and Ron to share her discovery. She had chosen her actions correctly. She still remembered the feeling of the bite of cold enveloping her body, the heaviness that weighed her down, and the world going dark—mirror still in hand. This time, she was much more unprepared. She had no reflective object to ward off the death glare, no professor who she could run to for help, and no Harry and Ron to save the day.

Hermione cursed herself, Tom Riddle, Alphard Corvus, and Salazar Slytherin. Would she even have a chance to get to know Riddle and convince him to abandon his dark path once his first horcrux was created? Could he even be convinced if she succeeded in stopping him on his first mission? The uncertainty wrapped Hermione in a blanket of dread. She needed answers. Part of her nearly beckoned out to Alphard in her mind, but she didn't welcome the sensations that would follow and couldn't risk any further disorientating events this evening. She would make her stand and either fail or succeed—to what degree she would leave up to the fates themselves.

Hermione grasped her wand tightly as she arrived on the second floor. The corridor before her seemed darker, more sinister. The sconces flickered lowly with sputtering flames, waning late into the night. Shadows danced in the corners, waiting to be summoned by the snuffing out of flame. She neither saw nor heard any straggling students, Riddle, or the basilisk. Hermione strained to listen and made her way toward the lavatory. With each step closer, the faintest of cries in the distance became clearer until it became a wailing sound. Myrtle.

Hermione crept low, casting a silencing charm on her feet to mask the sound of her footsteps. She made haste. The crying grew louder and louder until Hermione found herself outside the heavy, wooden lavatory door. She took a shaky breath, gripped her wand, and gritted her teeth, then she slowly pushed the door open.

The massive lavatory was dark and at first glance appeared abandoned. Hermione entered the room carefully, peeking around the corner with squinted eyes—ready to close them at a moment's notice if a scaly, slithering body came into sight. Past the bathroom stalls nearest the end of the room rested the same porcelain sinks that Harry and Ron had opened and entered to reach the Chamber of Secrets. The porcelain of the sinks shone softly, illuminated by the pale moonlight that streamed in through the high windows of the lavatory. The stone-flagged floor was free of debris and water—seemingly normal—like it had yet to be marred by a giant serpent's awakening. Hermione let the door fall back and stepper further into the entryway, her wand pointed toward the sinks—where she knew the basilisk could come from at any moment. The door fell back into place and connected to the inner latch with a dull thud.

"Who is there? Go away, Olive Hornby, you… you skunk!" Myrtle screeched out into the silent room, her screech echoing off the walls. Hermione followed the voice. She stopped in front of a stall harboring a pair of dirty, black loafers within. The feet were planted firmly on the floor beneath the stall as the human attached to them blew her nose fiercely in between sniffles. "I SAID GO AWAY!"

"I'm not Olive Hornby. It's… It's Hermione Sivad." Hermione gently rested the hand void of her wand on the stall door. "I am here to help you."

"Sivad? Oh, you mean the bushy-haired girl who has been running around with a gaggle of Slytherins who like to pick on poor Myrtle? GO AWAY." Myrtle seethed in her stall—a single eye making contact with Hermione's in between the crack in the stall door. Hermione didn't back down.

"Myrtle, please, listento me. It's not safe in here—not by yourself," Hermione attempted to reason with the distressed Ravenclaw girl. "Please, just open the door and let's go back to the tower together."

"Not safe? This is the ONLY place I have been safe all evening—away from Olive, the stupid ball-all of it!" Myrtle blew her nose loudly.

"Myrtle, someone sabotaged the ball and—"

"And it's too bad I didn't think of it first!" Myrtle spat.

"Andit's not safe to be wandering out of the common rooms. Dumbledore is moving all students to their dorms. Please—I know you are angry, and you want privacy—but you have to trust me," Hermione begged to the girl, her hand planted more firmly on the stall and her wand ready to take down the door by force if necessary.

"Trustyou? What, so you and Olive can pelt me with biscuits once I leave the lavatory? I think not." Hermione could only imagine the girl angrily crossing her arms within.

"Myrtle, please—"

Just as Hermione stepped back to prepare to blast the latch off the door, a low groan rumbled the lavatory. The distant sound scraped like large stones sliding past one another as something deep within the bowels of Hogwarts stirred, something alive. Hermione hit the stall door fiercely with her free hand in desperation. "Myrtle, we have to go NOW!"

Before Myrtle could respond, a male's voice—Riddle'svoice, Hermione recognized, echoed softly in the distance. To ordinary ears, it would've been indiscernible, but Hermione heard the unmistakable directive, a series of sharp hisses by an experienced tongue, given to the basilisk to kill. The Chamber of Secrets had been opened and the pipe system was shifting, which would soon allow for the King of Serpents to pass through to strike at the bidding of its master.

"I knew you weren't alone! I am telling Dumbledore you are advocating bullyinh and inviting boys into the girls washrooms," Myrtle called out and began sliding the lock out of place.

"Colloportus!" Hermione called out, locking the door firmly in place. "I am sorry Myrtle. Close your eyes—whatever you do, do not look out of the stall!"

"Let me out, Sivad!" Myrtle's voice raised an octave, panicked, as she attempted to manually unlock the door repetitively.

Hermione looked around frantically at the dozens of mirrors secured to the walls. In a flurry of rationality and desperation, she waved her wand and whispered accio mirror. The large mirror pulled from its hinges and began sailing toward her rapidly. Hermione whispered a firm levispeculoand the mirror ceased from crashing into her and instead hovered in midair at the place in which her wand had quickly went to work, summoning as many mirrors as she could manage and arranging them to levitate in a half-moon circle, creating a curved wall of mirrors she could use as defense against the basilisk's glare if she so happened to meet it.

When the mirrors were all arrange facing outward, Hermione stepped between them and with the flick of her wand, the mirrors turned to face inward, toward the column of sinks. She stood in front of the mirrors, the collection reflecting a dozen Hermione Grangers—not Hermione Sivads. It was her Gryffindor bravery, and foolishness, that drove her now. Ravenclaw and Slytherin be damned—the lion within her heart roared in the face of the impending danger.

"Hush…" Hermione ordered the whining girl. She closed her eyes and listened carefully. The sliding of stone against something other than itself reverberated in the deep below them, the sounds grew closer with each intake and exhale of her shaky breathing. Images of her mother and father, Harry, Ron, Luna, Neville and Crookshanks filled her mind. Her thoughts strayed from them to Aviela, Minerva, Christopher, Hagrid, and Nyoka. Every being that had found a way into her heart, whether on purpose or by happenstance, flickered behind her eyes. Her heart ached, but she was reminded of only a few of the reasons why she stood, awaiting the basilisk's arrival.

Suddenly, Hermione was pulled from her reminiscing as the floor rumbled and the oversized pipe connected to the sinks was slowly revealed. The sinks parted and the pipe's chasm opened wide to prepare for the basilisks exit from below. Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes. In the most reckless decision she had ever made in her life, Hermione turned her back on the gaping maw now exposed in the lavatory floor. She knew that if she looked the basilisk in the eyes, she would die. If she looked in the mirrors and became petrified, then Myrtle would still more than likely be killed. Hermione lifted her wand high in the air and slowly moved it toward the floor, directing all of the levitating mirrors downward. She prayed to all the gods in existence that mirrors reflections would be beyond the scope of the basilisk's line of vision and her and Myrtle both would survive the encounter.

Hermione had no doubt that the basilisk would move, poised to strike with an aim to kill as it had done so with Harry when he faced off against the creature. However, this time there would be no Sorting Hat from which to pull Godric Gryffindor's sword, no Fawkes to shed a tear in any wounds she might receive, and no diary to destroy to make Tom Marvolo Riddle disappear. She was outnumbered and outmatched. And yet… she continued to angle the mirrors just right.

She stood strong and still, listening beyond the soft blubbering of Myrtle. The rumbling came faster and the sound of scales against stone grew louder. She felt the beginning of a massive presence looming behind her and smelled the stench of something foul—like rotting vermin and sewage. She did not move, did not make a sound, as she heard the hiss of the beast fill the room. It was hissing a warning.

"I was sent out to play

to see what I could find

I happen across a speaker
the one not left behind."

The basilisk directed its hissing toward her as it spoke. She swore she could almost feel its hot breath falling upon her. Hermione kept her eyes squeezed tight. She could hear Myrtle's whimpering quieten inside the stall.

"No, I am not him,"Hermione hissed back at the creature plainly, trying not to let her fear betray her.

"Hundreds of years, eating

the flesh of my own kin

Kindly step aside, speaker

and let my feast begin."

"No, I am not going anywhere."Hermione hissed low—the beast's own warning being sent back to it. Slytherin's Serpent rumbled with a hiss.

"So be it."She heard the basilisk hiss sharply as it approached. Hermione waved her wand, pulling an angled mirror close to her face. She opened her eyes just in time to see the snake direct the lower half of its body to strike where she stood. She leaped to the right—away from the stall Myrtle was now screaming in. The basilisk bit heartily into the stones where Hermione had stood. At the bashing of its nose upon the floor, the beast let out a terrible screech, more in anger than in pain.

"Keep your eyes closed, Myrtle!" Hermione yelled to the girl whom she could see from her spot on the floor. Myrtle was crouched down near the toilet, covering her head from the debris the basilisk spat as it raised back on its haunches. Thankfully, the girl listened and hid her face in the cradle of her arms. Her screaming did not cease.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and flicked her wand, sending a mirror flying behind her and toward the basilisk. A loud crash and shatter filled the room followed by the oversized serpent's shrieks of pain. Hermione angled another mirror and narrowly missed the reflected serpent lunging forward toward her. She dove to the right and rolled out of the way. From her place on her back, she sent another mirror sailing forcefully toward the basilisk. She summoned a floating mirror into view and in the angled mirror before her. However, Hermione was not quick enough as the serpent's body slammed into her and sent her sailing across the room into the set of stalls opposite Myrtle. She hit the stall forcefully, knocking the breath out of her.

Hermione rolled onto her hands and knees. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest ached and her head throbbed fiercely from the impact. She knew she couldn't keep this up forever. The basilisk was catching onto her fighting pattern and would sooner just pluck the moaning Myrtle from her place in the stall just to shut her up. She grabbed her wand and pushed up from the floor, using the stall beside her to steady her.

Hermione scrambled back to her wall of remaining mirrors and twisted around, the flick of her wand sending another mirror into the basilisk. Another crash, shatter, and hiss of pain filled the room, indicating that she hit her mark. She shifted her floating mirrors, lining them up one by one, their edges facing out. Hermione prepared herself to slice Slytherin's Serpent into oblivion. Eyes still closed; she sent the first two mirrors sailing like blades. One connected as indicated by another screech from the basilisk, however one crashed somewhere off in the distance. Hermione turned to send the next couple to their designated target, but a terrifying roar escaped the creature and she felt the armor-like scales hasten against the stone floor as the serpent smashed headlong into the wall of mirrors, sweeping its head from left to right to avoid the sharpest points. The head of the serpent collided with her body and she was thrown across the room amongst the broken glass.

Hermione's arms and legs stung from the various cuts she had received from the bed of broken mirror shards she now lied upon. Her only wall of defense against the monster and fallen. Her plan to fight the basilisk had failed. She cursed herself. She feared that she had not only supplied Riddle with his first horcrux—Myrtle—but also his second: herself. Hot tears escaped her eyes, but she still attempted to stand.

"I will rip you… tear you…" the basilisk called to her as it moved slowly toward the stall Myrtle was hiding in.

As she made the final push to stand on her feet, Hermione's head was hit with a sharp pain and she cried out, stumbling backward. The pain filling her headspace felt like a growing pressure—like a presence.It reminded her of the last time Alphard attempted to contact her.

Alphard.

Instead of pushing against the entity attempting to force its way into her mind, Hermione gave in freely, willingly—allowing Alphard to find residence inside her mind and very self.

"Awfully cramped in here, you know—what with that big brain of yours and all."Alphard's deep voice commented once he was fully seated in her mind. She could only imagine him settling inside like he were breaking in a new piece of furniture.

"Alphard…" Hermione ground out through the dulling pain and in slight annoyance.

"I have an idea, but you must trust me Hermione." Alphard spoke quickly—desperately.

Hermione staggered on her feet and gave a solid nod, granting Alphard permission in her mind.

"Let my essence flow through you, speak the words with me, dear one, and may we put an end to this nightmare."Hermione stopped hesitating and let his spirit wash over her.

A tingling sensation flowed from Hermione's head to the tips of her toes. The hair on her arms raised as gooseflesh chilled her body. Her senses were heightened, making her feel as though she were a metal rod facing down the eye of a lightning storm. The energy swirling around her, ready to light her up.

She felt powerful. She felt like a livewire or a kettle about to boil over. Hermione didn't even bother to search for her wand in the moment. Her nails dug into her the palms of her tightly fisted hands. The pressure in her head from sharing a space with another entity was still overwhelming, but much less painful than fighting back. Between the heightened smells and sounds, she perceived all things as both she andAlphard Corvus did all at once—and in her mind, Alphard stood—eyes wide—ready to face the basilisk head on.

"Walk, Hermione… Open your eyes." Alphard's commanding voice filled whatever remaining spaces she had in her being. She forced down the heavy feeling in her limbs and took a step forward. Despite her fears, she gave her trust over to him; she opened her eyes.

Staring back at her in the mess of the broken mirrors on the floor were two silver irises belonging solely to her. She appeared alone, but the roaring in her mind told her otherwise. Alphard was with her… so was the basilisk, whose large body she saw coiling and uncoiling in her peripheral vision.

"Face the basilisk—and do not be afraid, Hermione. We are in this together." Alphard reassured her. She breathed deep and looked up.

The first thing she noticed upon meeting the gaze of the basilisk is that she wasn't dead or petrified on the spot. The second thing she noticed was that the serpent harbored several nasty gashes on its face and body from the mirrors she had sent sailing toward it during the fight. She had struck true. The last thing she noticed was Riddle standing in front of the gaping chasm that had been revealed.

Riddle stood, still in his robes that he had worn to the Halloween Ball, though they were much more disheveled than when Hermione had last seen them. His ebony hair was wild—like he had ran the whole way here. It reminded her of Harry's after quidditch practice. His mouth was agape, and his wide eyes were staring intensely at her staggering form from across the room. He looked more like a boy in awe than that of a young man hellbent on killing a student. To put it simply, Tom Riddle was surprised.

Hermione looked into his eyes with a ferocity that she was sure Godric Gryffindor would be proud of. She took another determined step forward. He would take no lives and sever no souls on this night. She would ensure it with her final breath. Hermione turned her attention from Riddle to the angered serpent writhing on the floor. It hissed and spat and rose on its haunches high above her, poising to strike.

Hermione looked deep into the serpent's bright yellow eyes. Her hand rose toward the basilisk and, with Alphard's power flowing through her, Hermione hissed the final command.

"I speak for Salazar Slytherin's namesake, for the Greatest of the Hogwarts Four." Alphard's word flowed through her and rolled off of her tongue as he channeled through her. Their voices combined and the resulting hiss fell from her mouth and filled the room. The beast gave pause at the title of its former took the chance and stepped forward, placing her hand upon the Serpent's exposed underbelly.

"I command you, King of Serpents, to return to slumber in your chambers for all eternity. If you deny Slytherin's demands, you are to gouge your eyes out upon the very stone face of the man that gave you purpose. Now, GO." Hermione's hand pushed hard upon the serpent, as though she could force it to move with her own physical strength. Though she was unable to physically push the serpent, she felt the exchange of power as it was written in blood—her own open wound, connecting with the basilisk's.

"One speaker's promise was true
but one speaker cannot beat two.

I shall slumber and wait for the call

of Slytherin's heir—or none at all."

The wounded basilisk turned and slithered away from Hermione and back into the large opening by the sinks. Hermione hissed a command and the chasm closed tight; the sinks of the lavatory locked back into place as the King of Serpents returned to the Chamber of Secrets for its continued slumber.

The rush of power left Hermione's body suddenly and she felt the world tilt. She reeled and fell down upon the stones, atop shattered glass and basilisk blood. From her place on the floor, she looked back toward the now sealed pipe opening to make sure it had remained closed. Instead, her eyes met those of Tom Marvolo Riddle's. His dark eyes betrayed a sense of shock and what seemed to be a tinge of what Hermione recognized as horror. It was the first time she had ever seen him show such emotion. And for that emotion to possibly be fear? Hermione could only imagine how terrifying she could've appeared just moments before. Her thoughts flashed back to the girl still hunkered down in the stall.

"Myrtle…" Hermione called out. She tried to crawl toward the stall, to tell her to run from the lavatory—from Riddle, but she collapsed upon her weakened arms. She felt tired and heavy. She tried to summon her wand, but the magic inside her wouldn't come to her aid. Her breathing became shallow as a knowing chill consumed her body, one that reminisced petrification setting in.

As Hermione flitted in and out of consciousness, she did not see Tom Riddle silently cast accio on her form, summoning her into his waiting arms before making their swift exit from the lavatory. Nor did she see a completely shocked Myrtle—still quite alive—watching her body retreat through the crack in the door. The world was torn asunder and Hermione welcomed the growing darkness like an old friend, and this time she was eager to meet it.

A/N: THANK YOU for reading. I hope you liked this climax to the story. There will be a lot more to come, but this in itself was a long time coming, too. Please follow, favorite, and REVIEW to let me know if you are enjoying my story so far. It would mean the world to me.

Have a great mid-week!

Constant Vigilance!

-VS