Author's note: October 31, 2021: I've started making an audio recording (a podfic) of Basilisk Eyes, it is available on Anchor and Spotify if you search for Hegemone Fanfiction Podfic. You can also email me at hegemonemilo at g mail dot com and I'll send you the links. Chapters 1 and 2 are currently available.
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They stood silently in the doorway for a moment, then Harry jumped as he heard a loud scream and squeezed Ginny's shoulder in alarm.
"Ginny!" someone shouted and Ginny was pulled away from Harry.
He stumbled forward, knocking into Ron and Ginny and he didn't know who else. He was suddenly being pressed on all sides by bodies. He realized that it must be Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but with all the voices and arms and legs, it seemed like more. He was pulled into a tight embrace.
"You saved her! How did you do it?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked in his ear.
It wasn't quite the warm, comfortable hug he imagined as he was slipping toward death in the chamber below, but it was still good.
"I think we'd all like to know," said Professor McGonagall from across the room.
Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry. He stood still for a moment trying to gather his thoughts. He reached out, trying to find Ginny and Ron. They grabbed his hands.
"Harry? Are you okay?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"It's nothing. I'll be okay," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Ron, you still have the sword? Ginny, the diary, and the sorting hat?" He waited and then realized they must have nodded.
"Um, oh, yes, Harry. We have them."
He felt Ginny tugging at her robes to extract the diary. Ron and Ginny moved away from Harry and he heard the sword clunk against wood, guessing that they were setting the items down on a table. They returned to Harry and Ginny slipped her hand in his and squeezed.
He stared down at the floor and started telling them everything in an even voice. He could feel the tension in the air as his story unfolded. He told them about the voices in the pipes, how Hermione figured out that he was hearing a basilisk, the spiders in the forest (he felt Ron shudder next to him) and learning about the victim in the bathroom and figuring out that it was Moaning Myrtle, and then finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.
"Very well," Professor McGonagall sputtered when he paused. "So you found out where the entrance was—breaking a hundred school rules in the process!—but how on earth did you all get out of there alive?"
So, Harry, his voice growing hoarse, told them about Fawkes swooping in with the sorting hat and how it dropped the sword on his head.
He rubbed his head, remembering the blow and faltered here. He could feel Ginny's shuddering breaths and hear her gentle sniffles.
How can I talk about Riddle's diary without getting Ginny expelled?
Dumbledore's voice broke the silence and Harry started. He didn't know he was here, too. He wondered who else was in the room.
"What interests me most," said Dumbledore, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when all my sources tell me he's currently hiding in the forests of Albania."
Harry felt his knees weaken as relief washed over him. Ginny's hand in his felt more steady, less tremulous.
She won't be blamed. Dumbledore knows.
The room erupted in voices again, all talking over each other.
"What? You-know-who possessed Ginny?" Mr. Weasley's voice stood out among the others.
"It was the diary," Harry stated.
He heard the swish of robes and footsteps going toward the table Ron and Ginny had laid the items out on.
"Riddle used the diary when he was sixteen," Harry said.
The room was quiet. Harry wondered what was happening and cocked his head to the side as he listened for clues.
"Brilliant," Dumbledore said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen."
There were mutters of disbelief.
"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle and went to school here. I taught him myself about fifty years ago. He disappeared after leaving school… traveled far and wide… and utterly transformed himself with his meddling in the dark arts so that no one recognized him as the once clever, handsome Head Boy," Dumbledore explained.
"But what has this to do with Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley demanded stepping over to Ginny and pulling her away from Harry.
Ginny's voice was muffled as she sobbed, "His diary! I've been writing in his diary… and he's been writing back all year!"
"Ginny!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain! The diary was clearly full of dark magic. Why didn't you show it to me?"
"I'm so sorry!" she wailed.
"Miss Weasley should go to the hospital wing now. This has been very hard on her," Dumbledore insisted.
His voice grew more gentle as he said, "Ginny, you will not be punished. Older and wiser wizards than you have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort."
Harry listened as Dumbledore strode over to the door, saying, "Madam Pomfrey is still awake—she's just started administering the Mandrake juice… "
"So Hermione's going to be okay?" Ron asked.
"But, Harry… " Ginny protested. "Harry needs to go, too. He's hurt."
"Yes. I'll send Harry up, too, but I need to talk to him and Ron a little longer," Dumbledore said.
Harry felt Ron brush up against him again and surmised that he was feeling as nervous about an extended interview as Harry.
Harry listened as Mrs. Weasley fussed over Ginny as they left the room, Mr. Weasley's footsteps following after them.
Harry was so tired that he was starting to sway on his feet. He was finding it was really challenging to have this intense of a discussion with so many people when he couldn't read anyone's body language or see their emotions expressed in their faces. He wished he knew the charm for conjuring a chair… and maybe some sandwiches.
"You know, I think this merits a good feast! Professor McGonagall? Would you be so kind as to pop down to the kitchens to make the arrangements?" Dumbledore said, making Harry worry that he had spoken his wishes aloud.
"Of course," said Professor McGonagall as she walked to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, then."
"Certainly," said Professor Dumbledore.
Suddenly Harry wondered if he should have been more worried about his own future at Hogwarts. He heard Ron shifting next to him and knew he was having the same thoughts. Dumbledore had said they'd be expelled if they broke any more school rules after the Whomping Willow incident. He wondered how many they had broken in their quest to save Ginny. He really wished he could look into Dumbledore's face and read his expression, or at least see if his eyes were twinkling as they often did when he was amused. All he could do was wait for Dumbledore to address them.
"I seem to remember telling you that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," said Dumbledore.
Ron made a gasping noise which reminded Harry of a fish out of water.
"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore went on. "You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and—let me see—yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."
Harry heard Ron's mouth snap shut. He was relieved, but also a bit bothered by the fact that now he had another thing to add to the list of similarities with Tom Riddle… Special Award for Services to the School…
In the meantime, Dumbledore had turned his attention to Professor Lockhart (who didn't even remember that he was a professor!). "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"
Harry had forgotten that Professor Lockhart was even in the room—he was so quiet.
"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said. "There was an accident down in the Chamber. Professor Lockhart tried to do a Memory Charm on us, but the wand backfired."
"Dear me," said Dumbledore, "Impaled on your own sword, Gilderoy!"
"I haven't got a sword," quipped Professor Lockhart, "but that boy does."
Harry imagined he was pointing at him.
"Ron, would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary? I'd like a few words with Harry… " Dumbledore confided.
"But, sir, Harry's got to go to the infirmary, too," Ron pleaded.
"Yes, it'll just be a little bit. I'll send him along soon."
Harry rocked back on his heels; he was definitely having a hard time standing.
Ron leaned near him and said, "Okay, see you in a bit, mate."
"Yeah," Harry sighed and listened as Ron and Lockhart closed the door behind them.
He heard Dumbledore's robes swish as he walked toward the crackling fire. It sounded like he had his back to Harry when he said, "Have a seat, Harry."
He was fiddling with something small and metallic by the sound of it.
"Sir, I'm really dirty. I don't think I should be sitting on Professor McGonagall's furniture," Harry protested.
Besides, how am I supposed to find the chair? Harry wondered.
"Oh, it's nothing that a quick Scourgify Charm won't remedy, I'm sure."
Too tired to argue more, Harry took some tentative steps in the same direction, trying to remember the layout of McGonagall's office from when he, Hermione, and Neville were caught out of bed in the wee hours in their first year. He wondered if she had redecorated since then. Apparently not as his outstretched hands found the back of an armchair, and he gratefully, and a bit clumsily, sank down it while Dumbledore continued to talk. "First of all, I want to thank you. You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber, Harry. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you."
At his name, Fawkes voiced a soft squawk and Harry heard Dumbledore sit down in the chair across from him and heard the bird hop down onto his lap, feathers rustling and claws scratching on fabric.
"And so you met Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you… "
Harry's thoughts about what Tom had said about them having strange likenesses burst out of him in a torrent of emotion and confusion. He wasn't like Tom, was he? The whole Parseltongue thing really worried him.
"Harry, you can speak Parseltongue because Lord Voldemort can. He passed his gift to you the night he tried to kill you. I'm sure he didn't mean to."
Harry put his head in his hands and leaned into his knees. "So I should be in Slytherin?" he moaned.
"The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, Harry."
"Well, that's only because I asked not to be put in Slytherin!"
"Exactly. If you want proof, Harry, take a look at this."
Harry heard the sound of the sword being dragged off the table and felt the weight of it being placed in his hands as he sat up.
"I can't exactly… see … anything right now, Professor."
"What do you mean, Harry?"
"I got some venom in my eyes. Fawkes helped me with his tears and it stopped the burning, but I still can't see."
"Oh dear," uttered Dumbledore, in a voice that seemed more shaken by this than by any of the night's events.
"I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix it, right? I mean, she can regrow bones!" Harry laughed weakly. "Could we go see her now, sir?"
Dumbledore took the sword back from Harry and he heard it being placed on the table again. Then Dumbledore's cool hand was pushing his head back as he muttered, "Lumos." Harry yelped, closing his eyes and grimacing in pain from the bright white light in his face.
"You can see that light?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, but hurts and that's all I can see."
Dumbledore stood back, turning off the light with a soft "Nox" and released Harry's head as the door burst open violently.
"Good evening, Lucius," Dumbledore said pleasantly as if he hadn't just been examining Harry.
Harry heard other soft footsteps advancing with Mr. Malfoy's and a squeaking noise that put him in mind of Dobby.
Is Dobby here, too? Why is he with Mr. Malfoy?
"So! You've come back to Hogwarts!" Lucius fumed.
Harry was trying to figure out what Dobby was doing. As Dumbledore explained that the other school governors had insisted that Dumbledore return upon hearing that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed, Harry could hear the little elf moving around on the floor near Lucius's feet making weird noises.
"So have you stopped the attacks?" Lucius sneered, "Have you caught the culprit?"
"We have," Dumbledore said. "It was the same person as last time, but this time Lord Voldemort was acting through someone else by means of this diary."
The noises by Mr. Malfoy's feet were getting stranger… as if Dobby was slapping himself in the head.
Why would he be hurting himself?
"A clever plan," continued Dumbledore, "because if Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley hadn't discovered this book, Ginny Weasley may have taken all the blame… "
The noises continued and seemed to be getting more ferocious as Dumbledore explained the possible repercussions if Ginny was mistaken as the Heir of Slytherin.
Comprehension dawned on Harry.
Dobby serves the Malfoys.
Harry stood up and faced Mr. Malfoy, his righteous indignation at what Mr. Malfoy had tried to do to the Weasleys giving him courage.
"Don't you want to know how Ginny got that Diary, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry said forcefully and not waiting for Mr. Malfoy's response, "At Flourish and Blotts, you picked up her Transfiguration book and slipped it inside, didn't you!"
Mr. Malfoy hissed, "Prove it, boy!"
"Oh, I don't think that anyone will be able to do that now that Tom Riddle has been forced out of the book."
While Dumbledore went on to muse about what Arthur Weasley might do if more of Voldemort's old school things were found, Harry was wracking his brain for a way to save Dobby. He heard the elf's terrified squeak as Mr. Malfoy kicked Dobby toward the door and stomped out after him. Suddenly, Harry knew what he had to do.
"Professor, may I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?"
"Certainly," he said as he thrust it into Harry's hands. Harry kicked off his shoe and pulled off his filthy, blood-soaked sock and stuffed the diary into it. He pulled his shoe back on and was grateful when Dumbledore took his elbow to guide him to the door.
Harry passed through it yelling, "Mr. Malfoy!" He could hear their progress down the corridor. Trailing his hand on the corridor wall, he walked as confidently as he could manage toward the sounds of the whimpering house elf, thankful that Dumbledore had the good sense to let him do this on his own.
"Mr. Malfoy, I have something for you," Harry said as evenly as he could.
"What is it?" Mr. Malfoy snapped. His voice was closer than Harry thought it would be.
Harry turned slightly to face him more directly, holding it out.
Mr. Malfoy snatched it from his hand and then cried out, "What the—?" Harry heard the sound of the sock being ripped off and hoped hard that Dobby had caught it.
"What is the meaning of this?" Lucius said, stomping his foot. "Come, Dobby!"
Dobby didn't make a sound. Harry cocked his head, holding his breath as he listened.
"Master has given Dobby a sock," said the squeaky voice of the elf. "Dobby is free!"
There was a scuffling sound and then a loud bang and a thud.
Harry felt Dobby's small body press against his legs.
"Master shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby boomed. Harry heard Lucius groaning from the floor a way down the corridor.
"Go now. Master shall go now!" Dobby ordered and Harry listened to Mr. Malfoy's footsteps as they retreated down the corridor, then down the stairs, and faded into the sounds of the castle.
"Dobby is free!" Dobby exclaimed as he hugged Harry's knees nearly toppling him. "Harry Potter freed Dobby!"
"It's the least I could do, Dobby! Just promise never to try to save my life again."
The elf laughed in response.
"Dobby promises. Is there anything Dobby can do for Harry Potter before Dobby goes?" Dobby asked.
"Could you lead me to the hospital wing, Dobby? I need to get my eyes sorted out."
"Right away, Harry Potter!" he answered as he grasped Harry's hand and apparated them to the hospital wing. Harry swayed feeling nauseated and disoriented, but smelled the antiseptic potions of the hospital wing and knew they were, indeed, there.
"And farewell, Harry Potter. Harry Potter be even greater than Dobby ever imagined."
With a loud crack, Dobby was gone.