The big fight commences! Grab your extra-large cherry colas, stuff your mouth with enough popcorn to choke a moose, and get ready for a climax that is guaranteed to fall short of your expectations!

"My, my, you are a peculiar one. Full of surprises."

"I try my best to defy expectations."

"You have a ways to go before you can outdo me."

"Show me what you've got."

"Three of a kind," Fudge laid down his cards, smiling triumphant.

The Woodman tossed his hand onto the table, sat back, and crossed his arms. "Full house."

Fudge swore. "H-how! You're cheating!"

"Minister, we've been over this several times," Shacklebolt spoke up from the chair beside the fire. "He's playing fair."

"Nonsense. No one has that much luck."

Shacklebolt glanced over at the Woodman and winked. "Luck never plays by the rules, Cornelius."

They'd gone a few rounds of pool before it became obvious that the Woodman was a pro. Fudge was down forty galleons when he suggested they switch to Poker. He'd quickly come to regret that. The large black dog had come over from the fire and was resting its head on Fudge's leg. Fudge scowled down at him; there was something in the cur's eyes that made him think it was taking great pleasure in his misery.

"This isn't over," Fudge said as the Woodman pulled his winnings across the table. "Fletcher, spot me twenty galleons."

"Who has that kinda money lyin' round?" the shabbily dressed auror asked.

"...doesn't everyone?"

The Woodman shook his head. "You really are out of touch with your constituency."

Fudge was about to rise to the Woodman's provocation when a toad-faced witch in an abomination of a pink jumper stepped out of the fireplace. "Cornelius!"

"What is it, Dolores?"

"There is a situation developing at Hogwarts. It seems Mr. Potter is involved."

Fudge leapt up, grabbing his hat and umbrella. "Good Merlin, woman! When was this reported?"

"A half-hour ago," the woman replied. "We've been trying to get in touch with you, but no one knew where you were."

"If Potter loses a single hair on his head, you're all sacked!" he pushed past Dolores and jumped through the fire. The woman followed, Fletcher right behind.

Shacklebolt stopped beside the poker table. "My cut, if you don't mind."

The Woodman nodded and pushed a pile of galleons towards the auror. "Thirty percent, as agreed. Pleasure playing with you, Kingsley."

"Likewise." The auror collected the winnings and stuffed them in his cloak before following his boss through the Floo.

"Alright! Tea's ready!" Tontu entered the room carrying a silver tray of dainty cups in his hands. He paused, taking in the empty space. "Where'd they go?"

The Woodman shrugged. "Am I supposed to keep track of other people's doings?"

"It would help."

"I reject that notion." he stood up and made his way past Tontu for the door. "I'll see you later. The fun's over."

Tontu waited until he heard the slam of the front door before he set the tray down and collapsed on the sofa. "So much for that," he muttered, grabbing a cup and taking a sip. The dog approached and sat in front of him, tail wagging like a ceiling fan. Tontu sighed and set a teacup onto the floor. "Someone might as well enjoy it."

The two hirsute creatures sat together in the dying light of the fire, drinking quietly, content in the silence of each other's company. "I wonder if Hilda's alright," the Nisse said, gazing through the window at the moon rising over Lightning Rock.

So far, Harry and Draco had done an admirable job playing whack-a-gnome with the basilisk. At one point, they'd succeeded in tying the snake into a large pretzel knot by looping around the columns.

As the snake furiously tried to untangle itself, they doubled back towards the Chamber. Draco grabbed him and pulled him back as a green jet of light flew past the sewer opening. "Stop! Those are serious curses," Draco whispered, peering around the corner. "Merlin." he breathed. Harry looked around and echoed his sentiment.

"Elemental magic," Riddle muttered, dodging a fire curse. "Not exactly standard on the first-year curriculum. What exactly are you?"

"Complicated."

"That's not an answer," Riddle replied, dropping back into a dueling stance. "I showed you mine—" he began, whipping a spell through the air. "—now show me yours!" Hilda was struck and sent tumbling back, landing on her feet. She swept her hand up into the air. Riddle was sent flying as the bricks underfoot burst upwards. Standing up, he noticed a smear of red on his wrist. He wiped his nose and came back with more. "Blood," he said, laughing. "I can't remember the last time I bled. I feel so alive!"

Hilda tore away her stained tattered robes. "Not for long!"

A rumbling behind them reminded Harry and Draco that they were currently in the process of running for their lives. They took off just as the basilisk rounded the corner and tore a chunk out of the stone work where the two boys had previously been standing. Harry grabbed Draco's arm. "Down here!" he said and dragged him off down a smaller side tunnel. The snake went to follow, only to find its head too wide to fit in the opening. It let out a scream of rage, knocking bricks loose as it threw itself against the hole.

It was pitch dark. They ran blindly for several feet before pitching forward over some obstacle in their path. Harry drew his wand and hurriedly cast a light spell. One look at their surroundings and he wished he hadn't. They had fallen over the side of a nest easily twice the size of the Great Raven's. Draco pointed to the center. "Look!" Harry followed his gaze. Surrounded by rat skeletons sat two perfectly round white orbs, each the size of a quaffle.

"Merlin," he whispered He turned back towards the entrance of the tunnel, which the basilisk was still attempting to get through. "She can't get to them."

"What are you saying?" Draco asked.

"Tom doesn't control the basilisk because he's the Heir," Harry gestured to the eggs. "He has hostages!"

Before Draco could stop him he grabbed the eggs and took off down the corridor. Draco looked back to the nest. "This is not how I expected the school year to go," he muttered before following after Potter.

A rumbling made Hilda turn. Frustrated from losing its prey, the basilisk had turned back in pursuit of easier quarry. Harry rounded the corner after it. "Hilda! Look away!" It was too late. their eyes met. Hilda stood stock still, staggering for a moment. Then she righted herself, looked past the snake to Riddle, and grinned.

Riddle looked back, nonplussed. "What?"

A cry directed all eyes skyward. Fawkes glided into the Chamber and attacked, his talons scratching and tearing into the basilisk's eyes. The snake thrashed and hissed, but by the time Fawkes disengaged it was blind. Fawkes doubled back and dove at Tom, talons bared. He raised his wand and fired off a curse that struck the bird dead in the breast. Fawkes burst into flame and fell to the ground, disintegrating on impact. A moment later, a small featherless chick popped from the ash and squawked furiously at Riddle, who rolled his eyes. "Oh, grow up."

Tom turned back to the basilisk. "Poor girl," he muttered. "Someone's done a number on you. Fortunately, she can still smell." The snake's head jerked back towards Hilda. "Kill."

"Stop!" Harry ran forward, the two eggs held before him. "Here," he said, switching to Parseltongue. "Here is what you want." The basilisk leaned forward until her snout was inches from Harry's hand. Hot air from her nostrils blew against his face. She flicked her tongue along the egg. Harry watched in horror as it opened its mouth to reveal rows and rows of backwards-angled teeth, perfectly made for tearing flesh. To his relief, it didn't attack, instead it gently scooped the two eggs up, tucking them under her tongue before turning and slithering off into the sewers.

Hilda snapped free from her trance and shook herself off. "What happened?"

"A family reunion," Harry muttered. He was about to say something when a spell struck him. He gripped his neck and gasped, blood dripping through his fingers. A lot of blood.

Too much blood.

"Harry!"

Harry spun around, eyes wide in shock. Riddle lowered his wand. "Look at that," he said quietly. "It was so easy. One wonders how I mucked it up the first time."

Potter dropped to his knees, desperately trying to staunch the wound in his neck. Draco ran and caught him as he toppled over, setting him down gently beside a reborn, cranky Fawkes.

Hilda looked from Harry to Tom. "You!" She grabbed her wand from the floor. "I'm going to kill you!" Before Draco could restrain her she was charging at the ghost, firing curses blindly.

Riddle rolled his eyes and fired a single stunner. She crumpled in a heap, landing beside Frida and the diary. He walked slowly across the room and knelt down, cupping his hand under Hilda's chin and lifting her head. "You're a strange one, Miss Dahl," he said. "You and whoever it is that shares your soul. There's power, great power." He gestured to the destroyed room around them. "You did this, wandwork beyond your knowledge, all out of hate, all because you wanted to destroy me and save your pathetic little friend." He shook his head. "You could do so much more, Miss Dahl, if you put your talents to good use. I could help you, Hilda. All you have to do is take my hand." He put his hand atop hers. "We're so alike."

"No," Hilda pulled free of Riddle, falling back. "We are not the same," she said

Riddle gave a thin smile. "Not yet." He lifted his wand and pressed it to her throat. "You are in no position to refuse. I will have you, if I have to take you by force."

Hilda's crawled back, her hand brushing up against something. She looked down and saw the diary. Hilda's eyes lit up. "You think you can control me?" she asked, the glow of her eyes pulsing in waves. "Cage me up? Take me out for party tricks? Stronger people have tried. So proud, so foolish. They thought they could harness me like fire in a bottle. But they couldn't contain me," She put her palm down on the cover of the book. "And they were burned."

Light and heat exploded from her hand, illuminating Riddle in a ghostly white glow. "No!" He cried out as the diary began to crack and hiss under the girl's magic. Within seconds the book was aflame, and so was Riddle. He reached to grab Hilda, only to scream as his hand crumbled away into embers. He fell back onto his knees, limbs crumbling underneath him. He looked up at Hida, his face cracking and falling away in hot shards. "What are you?" he screamed, his mouth a furnace of hot coals, his eyes blackened, hollow sockets.

"I am Aisling. Remember me. I will not be forgotten again."

Seconds later, Tom Riddle was nothing more than a layer of ash scattering in the rippling water.

Hilda fell back, her head striking the cobbles. She heard footsteps, voices shouting her name; someone took her hand. All of the cuts and wounds suddenly ached. She felt so tired, eyes losing their focus. A head appeared over her, but her vision was too blurry to make out the features. They were talking, but no sound came from their lips. Her vision began to dim.