The Heir of Slytherin

Ron rolled up his sleeves and pulled at the rocks until he found one that was loose. He tugged it out and dropped it, almost on his own foot.

'This is going to take ages,' Ron said hopelessly, looking up at the solid blockage.

Sherlock bit his lip and aimed his wand again.

'Wingardium Leviosa!' he said.

One of the larger rocks detached itself and floated away, gently landing on the ground a few feet away.

'Don't suppose you have a spare wand?' Ron said enviously.

Sherlock shrugged.

'Wish I hadn't thrown his out the window now.'

Together they worked and eventually made a small hole. Ron stood back to admire their handiwork, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Lockhart, who had been standing, staring around dreamily, suddenly noticed the hole.

'Oh, look at that! Let's see what's through there.'

He ran over and scrambled up the rocks. Ron and Sherlock tried to grab him, but he was too quick. All they could do was watch as he made it half way up and fell all the way back down.

Sherlock dragged him to his feet.

'Gosh, that's a lot of hair. Have we met?' said Lockhart.

Ron frowned.

'Do you know who we are?' Sherlock asked.

'I don't believe so.'

'Do you know who you are?'

Lockhart scrunched up his face, concentrating intensely.

'Actually, I don't. Goodness, that's odd, don't you think?' he said.

Sherlock sighed.

'Ron, why don't you take him back up to the pipe where he can't hurt himself?'

'Fine,' Ron grumbled. 'Come with me.'

'All right,' Lockhart said happily.

Ron dragged him away and Sherlock levitated some more rocks, widening the hole a little more until Ron came pattering back down the tunnel.

'I left him sitting by the pipes. He keeps trying to count them but he's forgotten how to count.'

Ron took in the progress Sherlock had made.

'I reckon we might be able to-'

He was cut off by a streak of red and gold blew past them and through the hole.

'What the hell was that?' Ron exclaimed.

Sherlock shook his head and they both continued to move the rocks. Finally, they'd made a hole big enough for them to fit through.

'Ron, you should stay here,' Sherlock said.

'But Ginny!' he protested.

'You don't have a wand and you'll be no good to her Petrified,' said Sherlock.

Ron struggled to find an argument and gave up.

'All right, well, you'd better bring them back,' he said.

'Of course.'

Sherlock grimaced and climbed through the rocks and down the other side.

'Why don't you try and move some more of these rocks. I don't know what condition Ginny will be in and she might not be able to climb.'

'That's true. All right, I'll do that then.'

Sherlock walked away from the sound of grunting and rocks falling against each other. He began slowly, but the sound of hissing and something very large thrashing around spurred him into a run around all the twists and turns and he found himself at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Serpents were carved twisting up the towering stone pillars, but Sherlock wasn't looking at that. He was staring up at the giant, poisonous green Basilisk weaving drunkenly between the pillars. The crimson blur that he had seen before, which he now saw was some sort of bird, soared around its head, suddenly diving and sinking its beak into the Basilisk's bulbous yellow eyes. Sherlock then saw Harry scrambling along the floor, and a figure standing behind the Basilisk was spitting and hissing. Sherlock couldn't understand what he was doing, but the Basilisk suddenly whipped away from the bird and towards Harry. The figure seemed to be controlling the Basilisk with Parseltongue, so this must be the real heir of Slytherin. Sherlock made a step forwards but had no idea what he could do. The Basilisk was clearly blind now, but that didn't stop it from being able to sense Harry. Perhaps if he distracted it, Harry might be able to figure something out…

'Hey, over here!' Sherlock screamed. 'I'm over here, come and get me!'

It wasn't enough. The Basilisk was distracted by him long enough for Harry to get to his feet, but the figure hissed at the Basilisk and redirected its course towards Harry. At that moment, Sherlock saw a small, brown roll of patchy fabric on the ground. He seized it, unrolled it and was taken by surprise.

'How did you get down here?' he muttered wondrously. It was the Sorting Hat.

Then a small voice whispered in his head. Throw it to Harry, it said.

He sprinted towards Harry and threw it as hard as he could. Harry caught it and quickly jammed it on his head. After a moment, he ripped it off and Sherlock's jaw dropped as he drew a ruby encrusted sword from inside the Hat. Before Sherlock could react, the Basilisk lunged at Harry and Harry drove the sword right through the roof of its mouth. It keeled over sideways and Sherlock leapt over it to get to Harry's side. Harry, on his knees, looked blankly at the huge, venomous fang that was sticking out of his arm, just above the elbow.

'Harry!' Sherlock cried.

He slid down onto his knees and the crimson bird landed on his shoulder.

'Harry, what should I do?' Sherlock panicked. 'I don't know what to do!'

Seemingly deaf to Sherlock's cries, Harry wrenched the fang from his arm and it clattered to the ground.

'Thanks for your help, Sherlock,' he slurred.

'Harry, no!'

The bird hopped from Sherlock's shoulder and lay its magnificent head over Harry's wound. Barely breathing, Sherlock gripped Harry by the shoulders to keep him up. Was he about to watch his friend die?

'You're dead, Harry Potter,' a voice said.

Sherlock looked up and, letting Harry lean against him, he raised his wand at the handsome, sixteen year-old boy before him.

'Who are you?' he demanded. 'Where's Ginny?'

'Who I am is none of your concern. As for the girl, it doesn't matter where she is now.'

'Tom Riddle,' Harry said weakly. 'He's Voldemort.'

Sherlock paled, and rage flashed across the boy's sculpted features.

'No, you can't be.'

'Everyone was young once, boy, but yes, I am Lord Voldemort.'

Sherlock gently lay Harry down and stood, keeping his wand trained on Riddle, though his hands were shaking fiercely.

'You can't come back,' Sherlock stuttered. 'I'll won't let you.'

Riddle laughed maliciously.

'And how exactly do you intend to stop me? I am the greatest sorcerer that ever lived, and you are a schoolboy.'

Riddle took a step towards Harry, but Sherlock blocked his path.

'Stand aside boy. I want to watch the light leave his eyes.'

He moved, but again, Sherlock stood in his way.

'It's funny, I wouldn't have put you in Ravenclaw,' Riddle mused, eyes darting down to the Ravenclaw blue tie Sherlock was wearing. 'I do admire loyalty and valiance, but you cannot save your friend. He's dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing? He's crying.'

Sherlock glanced behind him and hope flared inside his chest as he realised what kind of bird it was. He turned back to face Riddle.

'Actually, I think he'll be just fine,' he said defiantly.

'Get away, bird!' Riddle said loudly. 'I said, get away!'

His wand made a loud bang and the phoenix took off.

'Phoenix tears…' Riddle said quietly. 'Of course… healing powers… I forgot… I prefer it this way anyway. Just you and me, Harry Potter.'

He raised his wand, but he was suddenly tackled to the ground by Sherlock.

'Harry, do something!' he yelled as he grappled with Riddle, fighting to keep him pinned to the ground. He didn't manage it for long. After a moment, Riddle shoved him off, quickly stood up and gave him a savage kick to the stomach. Sherlock, winded, clutched his stomach and tried to recover his breath. Suddenly, there was along, dreadful, piercing scream that rebounded around inside Sherlock's head. As quickly as it had begun, it was over. A ringing silence was all that remained of Tom Riddle, who had disappeared. Sherlock lifted his head up and saw Harry, covered in black ink, what remained of Riddle's diary in one of his hands and the Basilisk fang in the other. A sizzling hole had been burned right through the diary. Shaking all over, they both stood unsteadily.

'Did-did you tackle Lord Voldemort?' Harry asked incredulously.

Sherlock shrugged.

'It's no worse than bouncing snowballs off his face,' he said.

Harry snorted appreciatively and went to tug the sword out from the Basilisk's mouth.

A faint moan came from the other end of the Chamber. Ginny, who had been lying motionless, began to stir, and sat up as they hurried over to her. The phoenix landed on Sherlock's shoulder and Ginny burst into great, shuddering sobs as she took in Harry's blood-soaked robes.

'Harry – oh, Harry – I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy. It was me, Harry – but I-I s-swear I didn't mean to – R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over – and – how did you kill that –that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I remember is him coming out of the diary-'

Harry comforted Ginny and Sherlock reached a hand up to stroke the phoenix's warm, silky feathers. He sang softly in Sherlock's ear and then took off to wait for them by the entrance to the Chamber. Sherlock and Harry helped Ginny up, Sherlock grabbed the Sorting Hat, and the three of them hurried back down the tunnel, where they found Ron pacing and anxiously chewing his fingernails.

'Ginny!' he cried as soon as he saw them. 'You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened?'

He tried to hug her, but she held him off, sobbing.

'You're okay, Ginny! It's over now, it's – where did that bird come from?'

The phoenix swooped down and hovered next to Sherlock.

'He's Dumbledore's,' said Harry.

'How come you've got a sword? And is that the Sorting Hat?' Ron said, gaping at them.

'I'll explain when we get out of here.'

'But-'

'Later,' Harry said firmly. 'Where's Lockhart?'

Sherlock's mouth twisted.

'He's up here,' he said, motioning further up the tunnel with his chin.

Led by the phoenix, they walked up to the mouth of the pipe, where Lockhart was sitting, humming placidly.

'The Memory Charm backfired and hit him instead of us,' Sherlock said.

'He hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. He tried to climb over the rocks and fell off, so we told him to wait here. He's a danger to himself,' Ron explained.

Lockhart peered good-naturedly at them.

'Hello,' he said. 'Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?'

'No,' said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry bent and squinted up at the long, dark pipe.

'Have you thought about how we're going to get back up this?' Harry asked.

'The phoenix can take us,' Sherlock said, stepping towards the pipe.

'Oh yeah! Fawkes can carry loads of weight,' said Harry.

Fawkes, as if he had heard them say his name, fluttered down in front of the pipe and waved his golden tail feathers at them. Sherlock tucked the Sorting Hat into his robes and turned to the others.

'We need to hold on to each other.'

'Okay, Ginny, grab Ron's hand,' Harry said. 'Professor Lockhart-'

'He means you,' Ron said sharply to Lockhart.

'You hold Ginny's other hand…'

Harry secured the sword in his belt, grabbed Ron with one hand and Sherlock with the other.

'Is everyone ready?' he asked.

They sounded the affirmative and Harry nodded for Sherlock to grab hold of Fawkes. As soon as he did so, an extraordinary lightness spread through his body. Fawkes took off, taking them with him, and Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to push back the panic that the feeling of rushing air caused.

'Amazing! Amazing!' he heard Lockhart yelling below him. 'This is just like magic!'

Soon enough they were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

Myrtle goggled at them and Sherlock took a few slow, deep breaths to calm himself.

'You're alive,' Myrtle said blankly to Harry.

'No need to sound so disappointed,' he said grimly.

'Oh, well… I'd just been thinking. If you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet,' said Myrtle, blushing silver.

'Urgh!' said Ron as they left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. 'Harry! I think Myrtle's got fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!'

But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face.

'Where now?' Ron said, with an anxious look at Ginny.

Harry pointed. Fawkes was leading the way again and they strode after him. Moments later, they found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.

Harry knocked and opened the door.

Hi everyone! I hope everyone's having a good summer! Thanks to TsubasaKEI, UberSupper, Deany-Elle, Keysmash5955 and Mangaka Shuzen for the reviews, it's always lovely to see you. I realise that my updates don't always come as quickly as other writers' might and once again I am grateful that you all stick around. The end is in sight! This is a fairly short chapter but I promise the final one for Chamber of Secrets will be a good one. See you next time!