The longer Harry watched, the more he felt. He could feel hope in the man destined to die at the Sith Lord's blade. Not for himself, but for someone else... The boy... The galaxy. There was grief and sorrow too. He knew he was outmatched, and that his apprentice would suffer to lose him. But he swelled in Harry's mind with a brilliance of love for the boy he had poured his very soul into training. And that made him fight all the harder, to give the young man every possibility of surviving this.
With every passing moment, Harry felt the connection deepen.
This did mean something. If only he knew what it was. The voice in his head spoke in whispers of images and emotions, not of words. But it did reassure him. When the time came, this strange circumstance would come to fruition.
That was when he heard it. From across the universe, Harry felt Ginny's despair as the ritual Tom Riddle was performing with her body reached its climax. He watched helplessly as she collapsed on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, the runic array fading from the stone around her. And once more, Harry felt the rage come.
The voice in his head continued to whisper, keeping him calm and focused. But the rage suffused him, filling him with power to the very tips of his fingers.
"Take. Me. Back!" Harry growled as he pushed back towards his body.
If felt like walking through treacle. And the treacle was hardening.
"No!" Harry grunted. "No more."
Pushing through what now felt like a solid rubber wall, Harry's vision began to grow dark.
"I'm coming, Ginny."
He woke with a start. Rolling out of bed, Harry cursed freely as he hit the ground feet first, causing the most delicious pain Harry had yet felt.
The image of Ginny collapsing in the Chamber still flashed vividly in his mind. But more had come to him in that dark limbo while he waited to return. In opening Ginny's soul to himself, Riddle had only widened the door to his own mind.
A boy entering the third floor secret passage. A girl attending to her Glamour Charms on the way to class. A crying, bespectacled girl in a bathroom.
One hand clutched at Harry's face while the other scrabbled blindly for his glasses. Grabbing them, he slowed his frantic movements just long enough to slide them home. Nothing happened. Disoriented and confused, Harry felt his stomach grow cold as his heart grew ever more frantic.
He saw Riddle's glee, his naked ambition, and the raw, boiling hatred he had for his victims. And he saw what he did with Myrtle's body. The ritual was like nothing Harry had seen before, but it was clearly what had put the boy's mind into the book. And when the ritual was done, Riddle's face seemed to change. A chill spread through Harry as the truth became clear to him — why he had had a vision of Voldemort returning. For Riddle's face had waxed serpentine in the lamp light. And Harry could never forget the red flash in those eyes.
He slipped into shoes that had been most helpfully left at the foot of his bed, shoving a finger in behind his heel and gritting his teeth as he shoved his foot in, not only at the pain in his finger but in a desperate effort not to pass right out again. His still blurred vision was not helping with the nausea that filled his sinuses and coated his throat with oil. It was irrelevant. Harry was driven by a singular purpose, one that he had already died for. He would not be stopped.
Riddle sealing the Chamber with a look of painful regret. The smirk as he caressed the little black book.
Grabbing his robe as he started running, Harry prayed that Madam Pomfrey had left his wand in his pocket.
Thrusting his hand into the pocket, he smiled slightly. Time might not have been on his side, but apparently Lady Luck was his for the evening. Harry crashed through the large double doors and slid across the hallway.
He almost lost his balance. Something awful was... eating away at him, parasitic and hungry. It was like fear, but it was so much more than that. It was as if fear had gained substance, and was acting upon him — feeding off him. Harry remembered the sensation. It was just like last year, when Erised tried to claim him. He ran faster, biting his lip as he traced the pattern on the mirror-come-doorway's surface. Riddle was feeding off Ginny here, not him. It'd be the last thing the bastard would ever do.
He stumbled out of the secret passage's other mirror on the second floor, and right into the last thing Harry had expected to see.
It was not a duel, per se. More accurate phrasing would have been to call it a stand off, or a... crouch off. In front of Harry stood Gilderoy Lockhart, hiding in the doorway to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. However, a barrage of spell fire almost hid him from view. Looking across at who the man was pointing his wand at, Harry gaped. The Weasley boys and Neville were shielding Luna, who was cradling a limp arm.
"Leave them alone!" Harry roared, throwing forth his hands.
Lockhart did not have time even to look before a torrent of lightning lifted him off his feet. The professor was thrown backwards, and before he even had time to scream he hit the wall with a crunch. The slumped body lay still.
"Harry?!" said Neville.
"You're alive!" said Ron.
"Hey," said Harry. "Look, we're going to have to catch up later. Luna, are you alright? What did he do to you?"
"It was nothing, Harry Potter," said Luna. "I will suffer much worse than this."
Percy gave her a funny look. "She had a Stunner glance off her arm. It'll be numb and then sore for a while, but she is fine."
"Okay," Harry sighed heavily. "Honestly I was hoping I wouldn't run into any of you on the way down."
"You what?" said Ron.
"If you think you're doing this alone," said Neville. "You've got another thing coming. Remember last time?"
"Your leg exploded!" Harry said.
"Your heart got a breath of fresh air!" Neville yelled. "And this time we don't have Ginny."
The whole group sobered at that thought.
"I don't have time to argue with you," said Harry. "But Luna can't fight with a dead arm."
"You just got out of the infirmary for being near enough dead yourself," said Neville. "We've all been training, and we're going to save our friend. Help us or get out of the way."
Harry stared at Neville for a moment. It had not occurred to him that he would not be the most potent force seeking Ginny's salvation.
Neville, for his part, simply shook his head, brushing past Harry into Myrtle's bathroom.
"Come on," said Fred. "We might need that serpent tongue."
Harry found himself even more shocked by the complete absence of humour from the twins. It should not have been a surprise, but it seemed so anathemic to their very nature that even under the circumstances it was strange.
Finding himself being led into the bathroom where Myrtle had been killed, Harry regained his focus. The girl herself, who was sitting cross-legged on a cubicle wall, was staring down at him with wide eyes.
"Harry?" she said. "Is that really you?"
"I'm back," said Harry grimly, watching Neville frantically searching for something. "Tell me, Myrtle. Did you see exactly where that boy was standing? When you died?"
Myrtle's face scrunched up in concentration. "Err... over there somewhere I think."
Harry rushed over to the sinks, examining every inch of the tiling, the piping... The tap. Engraved into the side of a copper tap was a single, tiny snake.
'Hold out for me, Ginny,' Harry thought desperately. "Open."
Everyone but Harry staggered a step backwards as the sink and supporting wall juddered backwards.
"Ooh, it hasn't done that before," said Myrtle, delighted. "Although... What you just said... It sounded an awful lot like that boy..."
"Hey Myrtle," said Harry. "You'll look after the good professor for us, won't you?"
A slow, sadistic smile twisted Myrtle's mouth as she looked from Luna's arm to Professor Lockhart's slumped form.
In the meantime, the marked sink had dropped entirely through the floor, a little grate moving to cover it up. It left a hole between the remaining sinks — a circular pipe headed down through the floor in the centre of the room. It would easily be large enough to admit even Hagrid's vast frame. And yet somehow nobody had run into this pipe that must tunnel directly through the ground floor of the castle. 'Magic. Thou art an incredulous fiend.'
"Harry..." said a rather bashful looking Myrtle. "If you die down there, you're welcome to come share my toilet."
"Thanks, Myrtle," said Harry. "But I'm not going to die. That's Voldemort's job."
"You Know Who?" Fred gasped.
"He's been possessing Ginny," said Harry, aiming his wand light down the open pipe into the bottomless dark below. The pipe did seem to curve into a slope, however, suggesting a less gory outcome for the man to brave the fall. "And every time any of you found out, he wiped your memory."
"Why?" Percy frowned. "Why not simply kill us?"
"It would draw too much attention," Harry frowned. "Shall we use rope like last time or get brooms?"
"Brooms would take too long," George shrugged,his expression still incredulous. "Are the attacks not doing that already?"
"They're well spaced and all on Muggleborn," said Harry. "They were really only done for dramatic effect, apart from Hermione. She... interfered too much."
A dark look came over Ron and Neville's faces.
Harry gestured to Fred to hurry up conjuring the rope for them. "He's had time enough to build strength for his piece de resistance."
"Which is what, exactly?" asked Percy, putting a hand on Fred's shoulder and raising his own wand. "Accio broomsticks."
"A new body," said Harry.
The silence was as an oppressive blanket, smothering the group as they stood, staring as one at the boy who had thrice defied death itself.
"You're going to fight him?" said Myrtle in a small voice.
"You know, he's the one who killed you," said Harry. "Tom Riddle."
"What?" Myrtle gasped. "Tom...?"
"You knew him?" said Harry urgently.
Myrtle blushed. "I wouldn't say I knew him..."
"He was popular, huh?" said George shrewdly.
Myrtle just nodded, avoiding Harry's eyes.
"Well, that boy went on to become the Dark Lord Voldemort," said Harry, as the broomsticks arrived with a soft whoosh. He laid a fond hand on his Nimbus, which hummed in recognition. "And we are going to kick his ethereal backside."
"Good luck," she said quietly, as one by one the group took to the air and rocketed down the pipe.
Raising his wand, Harry recast the Lumos Charm, leading the group at a pace that wasn't taxing any of their broomsticks, even Percy's rather old model that was supporting both him and Luna. In the relatively confined space of the pipe, however, it felt exhilaratingly dangerous, and Harry felt his body finally begin to settle. He was always home upon his broomstick.
"So the diary is Voldemort's?" said Neville from behind George.
"Yeah," said Harry. "It had me and Ginny enchanted since the end of summer."
"And he almost killed you without the snake," said Neville quietly.
"What's this about a diary?" said Percy.
"Me and Ginny found an old diary that wrote back to you," said Harry. "Turns out, Riddle stored a bit of his teenage self in it somehow."
"Acne and all?" said Fred.
"No acne," said Harry.
"Well, that's no fun," said George with little enthusiasm.
The pipe twisted and turned, slimy and filthy but carrying no waste to their collective relief. It branched off at multiple points too, and though Harry could not think what purpose the branches might serve, he could not be surprised that nobody had noticed these poking into hallways. Their pursuit of Ginny had taken them far beneath the castle.
Just as they were starting to tire of the endless dive (it was really rather an uncomfortable position to hold, especially with someone sitting behind you), the pipe began to truly level out. The end of the pipe came rather abruptly, obscured by its curve, and they shot out into the open with a collective sigh of relief. It might not have been a pretty picture that greeted them, but anything was better than the creeping claustrophobia and physical discomfort of a broom ride through the plumbing.
As it was, they had emerged into a relatively large tunnel. Harry would have liked to dismount, if only to rest his regrown wrists after their descent. However, being the sewer system, the floor did not look particularly inviting. Though the stone floor only covered a central path through the tunnel so as to allow sewage to flow either side, the surface glistened with wastewater, and Harry did not care to identify that which did not shine.
"Do you think the basilisk ate them?" said Ron.
"I think something that size would need to eat more than a few rats to survive the centuries," said Neville. "They probably just got unlucky, or had particularly nasty owners."
"So you do remember about the basilisk..." said Harry. "Good."
"Harry..." said Neville. "I have to tell you... In case we don't..."
"We're going to win," said Harry firmly.
"I know," said Neville.
There was a long pause. Harry could feel Luna's protuberant eyes on him from behind Percy, but everyone else was too overwhelmed by what they were doing to so much as think of anything to say.
"Seeing you in that hospital bed was one of the worst moments of my life," said Neville finally. "You have been the best friend I have ever known... Harry, if I don't make it out of this, just know that I was happy to go out fighting by your side."
Harry swallowed thickly. "Nobody will die today. We are all walking out of this."
"Let's set the br- BLOODY HELL!" Ron finished in a strangled hiss.
The party pulled up in front of a vast, looming shadow. If anyone had had doubts about the beast's identity, a moulted skin at least twenty metres long soon put them to bed.
"Alright, we need to be stealthy," said Neville. "Eyes down and ears open. If we hear anything I'll mirror shield us."
Harry looked at Neville curiously. If he had developed a defense against the basilisk...
"I'll take up the rear," said Percy.
"Not far now," said Harry, his hand twitching slightly. He didn't make any mention of how short on time they were.
As they passed by the skin, Harry examined it under wand light. He remembered the image he'd seen in his comatose state. The huge, empty yellow eyes. It was bigger now than it had been fifty years ago. Perhaps consuming Myrtle's life force had given the basilisk more... substance. Shuddering, Harry redirected his attention to the path ahead. Taking the brooms into the middle of the fight would do little more than jeopardise their primary means of escape, but Harry could sense that they had a considerable walk to come.
Into the growing light of their wands came a vast, circular door.
"Can everyone see where they are going without wand light?" said Harry.
A few murmurs of assent.
"Nox," said Harry, looking up now at the door in the dark as his eyes adjusted. Curiously, he did not need his eyes to see that it was there. "Open."
A vast array of interlocking snakes adorning the circumference of the door began to move. They moved with a decidedly un-stealthy level of noise.
"Alright, wands up and spells armed," said Neville. "Ready for anything, but do not do anything until we can be sure of Ginny's safety."
Keeping their eyes down and their wands hot, the group clambered through the massive hole. As soon as their feet hit the ground in what they quickly realised was the chamber proper, two great torches ignited in braziers on the walls to either side of them. Each torch looked at least twenty metres away. Harry pointed his wand at the ground and started walking steadily forwards. The floor was drowning, and he could smell the stench of sewage all around him.
"Bet old Slytherin was mighty proud of this place, eh?" Ron asked in a shaky voice. Harry didn't reply. The torches died suddenly. They all stopped dead, leaving only the soft dripping to echo around them. The chamber felt so empty. Too empty.
Harry shifted forwards a little. The chamber was unlikely to give up its secrets without a fight, and he felt suddenly unprepared. Reaching out into the darkness, Harry felt Ginny's strength waning.
"Please, Ginny," Harry muttered. "Please..."
The group moved carefully forwards, weighing each step upon the slippery, drenched stone. Time and fear weighed ever more heavily upon Harry's heart. But through it all, that voice remained. Harry opened himself to it, resting upon it his hope and determination. And the voice grew louder.
As suddenly as they had gone out, the torches erupted into flame. But they weren't alone. Harry risked a glance up, and gritted his teeth as he saw just how long the Chamber was. As he saw the small figure lying there. Lifeless.
He snarled as he began to feel the pull of Riddle's magic on her soul. The voice was more than a whisper now. It was the earth beneath him, and the skies above him, and it was telling him to run. It was then that he realised that he couldn't hear the others behind him anymore.
Slowing to a walk, Harry found himself right in front of Ginny. Her red hair fanned out around her head, its vibrance serving to underline the paleness of her face. Harry fell to his knees beside her, trying to ignore the looming, massive statue of Salazar Slytherin before them.
"Ginny," he whispered, swallowing around the lump in his throat. She was so still... Harry stroked her cheek softly with a trembling thumb.
It was stone cold.
Getting to his feet, Harry barely noted his friends approaching in the middle distance. "Where are you?!" he yelled. "Show yourself!"
"Right here, Harry."
He spun round, his wand snapping toward the wraith's heart like a magnet. Bile rose in his throat as he noted the dual core wand in Riddle's hand.
"My, my, Harry. Why so angry?"
Harry's lip curled. "I hope you're enjoying yourself, Riddle. No one deserves to die miserable."
"You see, this is why I like the two of you," Riddle went on. "So witty, so sharp... you almost remind me of myself."
Harry's eyes narrowed, and the Blasting Curse rose to his lips.
"I really must know, though. How did you know that I'd take on a form outside the diary?" Riddle asked curiously, gesturing to the little book clutched in Ginny's arms.
"You must have realised that the link worked both ways, Riddle. I saw what you did to Myrtle. I saw all your desires, and all your fear. And Tom Marvolo Riddle, son of a Muggle, I saw what you became," Harry spat.
Riddle's face was turning sour. "I became more than you could possibly imagine! The world came to fear my name!"
"Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you? You couldn't even take Britain!"
"I had this land by the throat!"
"You lost it to a single Muggle-born," Harry sneered. "You think you're so superior, just because of your lineage."
Riddle sniggered lightly. "High moral ground is what you fight from, is it? Who crafted those words, Harry? Was it you?"
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Ron cried.
They both looked round. Ron was clutching his side and panting, the others close behind.
"Harry, is that who I think it is?" Ron asked, throwing Riddle a suspicious look.
"Ah, Ronald Weasley. I've heard a great deal about you," Riddle said with deliberation. He was smiling pleasantly, but the sneer beneath was clear in his eyes.
"What are you doing to Ginny?" said Percy, wand glowing.
"Me?" Riddle asked innocently.
"No more games, Tom," Harry said quietly. Sparks jumped from the end of his wand.
Riddle recoiled almost visibly, and snarled, "Don't call me that."
Harry stepped carefully around Ginny, but kept his eyes firmly on his enemy. "You're still weak from our last fight. What could you do?"
"That was a bad question, Harry," Riddle said lazily. "It's not what I could do..."
Harry suddenly got a very bad feeling. Even as yells of horror went up behind him, Harry turned slowly, not wanting to see.
"It's what I can do." Tears pricked the back of his eyes as he heard her voice. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he felt her cold hand on his arm. "Please Harry, look at me."
"Ginny..." Fred choked out, staggering forwards before his twin caught him.
There was nothing Harry could do to stop himself. He shuddered as he saw her eyes, no longer their familiar, warm brown, but an empty, cold black.
"You see, now, don't you Harry?" Riddle said assuredly. "I am the greatest wizard in the world."
Harry glanced back at the silvery wraith. He finally found the strength to face... Ginny.
He cupped her face in his hands, and she smirked. He stretched out through their bond, and felt cold. An impossible, overwhelming cold. He took the plunge. It couldn't be described. It was falling without moving. He felt Riddle's hunger gnawing away at him, and shrugged it off. He'd lose more than his soul if he failed.
After a few seconds, he found what he was looking for, and held onto it as he opened his eyes. "Hold on, Ginny. For me. We won't lose, I promise. We can't."
"A pitiful sentiment hides a considerable ability," Riddle mused.
"None of us will join you," Ron stated.
Riddle sneered at him. "I don't believe I was talking to you, Ronald," he said harshly. "Harry, she is dying. Very soon, the life force that fuelled her will belong entirely to me. Don't be a fool. I could use your talents. You'd be a valued partner and ally. There's so much I could teach you."
Harry didn't look up from Ginny's eyes. He fancied he could see a spark of life, of warmth... of Ginny, in those dark depths. Whatever it was, it was worth fighting for.
When he looked back at Riddle, he didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
"Well, I'm truly sorry," said Riddle. "Perhaps you will see each other, on the other side, as it were. Goodbye, Harry Potter."
The wraith turned his back on them. Harry drew his wand again, slowly. Ron fired a Disarming Charm right through Riddle, which splashed harmlessly on the stone wall. Harry felt something twist inside him when it was Ginny who spoke.
"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four."
Harry turned to Ginny one last time. "It wasn't your fault. Ginny, I... I do love you."
"Harry, run!" George yelled.
"Fawkes!" Neville was crying.
With one last look at Ginny, he barrelled after the others. They all heard something immensely heavy hit the ground; Harry felt it through his knees. Fighting the instinct to look round, he followed the others back towards the entrance as Neville allowed himself to fall to the bank of the group. 'Help, please... Someone, anyone!'
"Fawkes, please!" Neville called. "Don't let it kill her! Don't allow innocent blood to be spilled here today, I beg you!"
Harry could hear the monster drawing near. It seemed to be taking a kind of perverse pleasure in drawing out the time until the inevitable.
Just then, Neville grunted with effort. A loud hiss from the snake, and a sound like a hammer blow on a gong. Harry turned to see his friend holding off the snake with a golden shield the size of a double decker bus.
"Now!" the boy cried.
Harry would not have believed that such beautiful synchronisation of spell casting was possible until he saw the twins working together to weaken the basilisk. Just as Fred's conjured stream of oil reached the basilisk over Neville's shield, George set it alight. Percy and Luna were chanting something or another while Ron tried his best to hit the snake with Stunning Curses. Ron's curses seemed to do little more than bounce off the armoured hide, but the snake was hissing frantically under the combined onslaught.
The voice in Harry's head urged him on, and he threw himself forwards, sliding towards the shield and aiming his wand up from underneath.
"Verdimillious."
It took all of Harry's willpower not to look at the result of his spell as he scrambled back behind the shield. From the power he had felt through his hand, and the way the basilisk had hissed, he knew that he had irritated it at the very least.
That was when he heard it.
A wave of calm and happiness washed over Harry, and once again he almost gave into the temptation to look round. Apart from the sewage beneath him, he could have been back in the common room. The air was warm and fragrant. The lighting was no longer flickering, but felt rather akin to sunlight. And he could hear the most beautiful music. It was as if... there were no words. Or perhaps there were too many.
Harry heard Riddle shout in outrage. Something flapped over Harry's head, and then something flopped on the ground beside him. He reached out, not wanting to risk catching a glimpse of the Basilisk's eyes.
It was the Sorting Hat! Harry was about to put it on when he was distracted by the sounds of battle beyond Neville.
"Look away!" the boy called urgently.
Obediently, Harry shielded his eyes as Neville took the opportunity to recast his shield. The hat was saying nothing, lying utterly limp in his hand.
"Back off!" said Neville, driving his wand downwards. The snake had been rearing to lunge over the vast barrier, but it suddenly stretched to fill the width and height of the Chamber, blocking the serpent off utterly. "Go on, Fawkes."
Sudden, aggrieved hissing, and the slamming of a tail weighing several tonnes upon the stone floor. The song only grew more beautiful, but Tom Riddle was screaming.
Harry could see little beyond Neville's shield, but a wave of alarm washed over him as he saw the shockwave hit the side of the chamber.
"Brace yourself, Neville!" said Harry, himself leaning in to the oncoming storm.
Time seemed to slow as the wave of pure rage slammed into the golden shield with all the impact of a feather on a wall. And yet Neville and his shield slid backwards, carried away as if a great gust of wind had taken him. Harry watched, incredulous, as first the shield and then the shockwave simply passed over him. A blue shimmer in the air was the only proof of their passing. His friends, however, were all swept away like chess pieces at the end of the game.
A moment passed. Harry turned. He was alone now with the snake, and Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. And Fawkes could not stop the basilisk from crushing him like an insect. Hurrying to put some space between himself and the battle, Harry did the only thing he still could do. He put on the Sorting Hat.
'Hello?' he called.
'No time, young Gryffindor,' the hat replied. 'Time to prove you were right, eh?'
As the Hat finished, there was a sudden impact on his skull, powerful enough that he saw stars, making Harry fall to his knees. The hat slid off his head, but something was sliding out of it! A ruby-encrusted hilt led a sword with definite engraved markings along the forte of the blade.
The Hat seemed to twitch on the floor, before disappearing in a flash of light. Straightening, Harry looked at the place where the Hat had disappeared, and nodded curtly before raising the longsword in both hands. It was heavy, and its blade alone was easily longer than his leg. However, even as he hefted the weapon, his arms seemed imbued with the strength to wield it. The metal shone, almost glowing in the dimly lit chamber, and its clean lines were as elegant as the rubies encrusted around the hilt were beautiful.
The basilisk had stopped writhing. Riddle was hissing something at it. Using the time to get used to the weapon, he brought it up and held it in both hands, trying to relax the death grip his fingers insisted upon.
"Forget the bird! The boy! Get him! You can still hear him! You can still smell him," Riddle was snarling.
Danger.
Rolling to the side, Harry reached out just as the basilisk was poised to strike. Lightning ran in rivulets down his fingers as he threw his hands up at the basilisk.
"For my parents."
The charge built, forming blue currents around the blade of the sword and turning his arms into Tesla coils.
"For my friends."
Harry dared to look up, the voice in his head urging him on, the fear staved off as if by his own personal guard dog. The great basilisk was blind. Fawkes, his beak bloody, had backed away, watching him.
"For Ginny!"
The basilisk collapsed backwards, rearing in agony even as it had tried to strike. For lightning now coursed through its gored eye sockets, frying the snake from the inside. But while Harry watched it suffer under the onslaught, Riddle was yelling and screaming at the snake. And through the pain, it reared once more.
Harry leapt aside just as the mighty snake crashed into the ground. The very earth shook with the power of it, and Harry knew he was running out of time. Even the twins' enchanted fires were dead now.
A tail the size of a small airplane came flying out of the darkness, but Harry had jumped high, high into the air and landed deftly upon the snake itself. Confused, it tasted the air to track him, but Harry was already in a dead sprint up towards its blind head.
Realising just in time what had happened, the snake turned to bite. Harry was thrown clean off. Though he could no longer plunge the heavy sword through its ruined eye socket, something peculiar happened. The same lightning he had earlier produced discharged from the sword like a rifle shot, forcing the snake to recoil as its wounds were insulted once more, its eye lit eerily from within. It seemed then to stop noticing the pain. Quiet now, the basilisk stared down at Harry.
He could hear his friends running to get back into the fight, but there was not time. Ginny was back to being passed out on the floor. He could feel her strength waning. Riddle was smirking victoriously while the mighty serpent reared up high above him, mouth open and ready to strike.
Harry dove to the side, bringing the sword around in a heavy slash which caught the basilisk in the side of the head.
Harry staggered. The sword had simply bounced off the armour-like hide. He could hear Riddle laughing just out of sight. Gritting his teeth, he dived sideways as the basilisk made another lunge for him, and scrambled into a run. As he got further towards the tail of the immense creature, he tested the strength of its defences here with another hefty swipe. The snake remained unharmed, and he had to throw himself to the ground to avoid a sweeping strike from the great beast's tail.
The snake was impenetrable to his blade, all apart from the eyes.
"You will not have her!" Harry cried, lightning consuming his whole body. It hurt. But even as he himself was raised off his feet, he knew that he was hurting the basilisk too. It thrashed and screamed and hissed in panic, while Harry kept up his onslaught until steam rose from its mouth and between its scales.
"Harry, look out!" Ron screamed.
The tail swung out with such speed as to be almost a blur to Harry. And soon, everything was a blur. He was caught just above the stomach. The energy coursing through him protected him to a degree, but he still felt as though someone had just given him a sweet kiss with a cricket bat. His ribs were on fire, and breathing was suddenly less comfortable than Harry was used to.
He landed on his arse on the sewage-soaked stone, sliding backwards in the shadow of the serpent. Raising its tortured head high above, it hissed angrily. "Enough! Meet your end!"
Seizing a desperate plan out of the air, Harry ran to Slytherin's statue, delaying the snake with a sword blast of lightning to the face, and began climbing it. The stupidity of the plan was beginning to sink in. He was only halfway up when the basilisk was in position to start striking at him again. Pulling his wand with his left hand, he sent a hasty concussion hex at its head. However, this only served to anger it further. Dark blood still pulsed from its eye sockets...
"Incendio!" he yelled.
The spell struck true, setting fire to the blood and sending the basilisk reeling. However, he'd now only increased the danger of his situation, since the basilisk was thrashing even worse than when he'd electrocuted it. Just as Harry reached Slytherin's head, the basilisk smashed itself into the wall beside him, almost throwing him clean off the statue.
He wasn't quite sure how he managed it, but Harry threw himself up and onto the smooth stone, where he found a moment's peace as the fresh fires on the basilisk died. Standing slowly, he struggled to maintain a good grip on the ruby-encrusted hilt of the sword with sweaty hands. The basilisk lifted its head, its forked tongue flicking out to taste his scent on the air. He didn't doubt that he stank like a pig to it. The serpent lunged, and he stabbed a heavy overhand stroke into its gouged eye.
The monster shrieked and spat as it withdrew. Harry planted his feet and stared into the mouth of the beast. It couldn't miss again, surely. Venom dripped copiously from several upper fangs. Riddle seemed to be watching each and every lunge hungrily, unable to conceal his pleasure at the situation.
"And so the Boy Lived No More," Riddle whispered almost inaudibly.
As the basilisk lunged once again, Harry accepted the inevitable. He wasn't going to leave this place. He looked over at the still form of his love, and found solace in the idea that he'd done all he could. Percy and Ron stood horrified, watching. Neville's wand came up, his lips moving feverishly, but too late. Harry's arms came forward instinctively to protect himself. He didn't notice the explosion which shattered the continuum around him. He did not hear the yells of 'No!' and 'Master'. But he did feel the searing heat, as the red beam of energy pressed into his outstretched hand.
He didn't blink, as that whisper in his mind guided his body. He simply flowed with it. Almost casually, he tore the weapon out of the hands of his adversary. Harry thought he could actually feel the menacing, malevolent nature of this person. It made a shiver run down his spine. And it was only then that he got a really good look at the man, if that was what it was. There were several small horns protruding from his hairless head, and his whole body was richly coloured in a complex pattern of red and black. Then there were the eyes.
This was the man he had crossed the universe to watch.
He spun as he pulled the blade, throwing it aside even as he reaffirmed his grip on his own sword, and faster than thought it came slicing through the air. The person's only reaction through all this was a widening of his eyes. He had no time for anything more before his body was cleaved in two at the hips.
Silence fell as the Sword of Gryffindor claimed its first life beyond its home galaxy. Harry fell to his knees, exhausted and confused, not daring to look the dying man in the face.
"What have I done?" he breathed.
It was a ridiculous and cruel turn of events that was so nauseating he could hardly breathe for shock.
Whatever it was drew a rattling breath before giving a sort of half-chuckle, half-snarl. "Begun the war, Jedi scum!" he ground out, before the blood loss overcame him.
There was a slight whooshing sound behind him, and he spun round to see a young man with an intense look on his face, and a glowing blue blade not much unlike the one of the man he'd just killed. It was then that he realised, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, exactly where he was.
"What have you done with my master, Force-sensitive?" the man demanded.
"I... I..." his rapidly rising heart rate warned him what was about to happen.
"Master Qui-Gon Jinn of the Jedi Order! I cannot even sense him anymore!"
Harry knew no more as he keeled over, his world turning black.
He was getting too old for this. The Sith Lord's blade was spun for a reversed lunge even as his own was still rising from the initial impact, ready for a hefty slash. Time slowed down to a halt, but this was not his connection to the Force acting. Qui-Gon Jinn was being given the opportunity to savour his connection to the physical world for the last time.
He closed his eyes as he waited for the impossible heat, and death. For there was no death; there was only the Force. Maybe the pain would end. The chasm that had opened inside him on New Apsolon might finally be closed. A faint smile crossed his face. All was well. Obi-Wan would train little Anakin, and the Chosen One would bring balance to the Force.
But something was wrong. He felt a schism open in the very fabric of existence as the power of the Force swelled around him. There was no pain, no evil disturbance beyond the zabrak before him. There was only a great void that formed more and more clearly as the infinite energy of the Force was siphoned into it. One that he himself was being sucked into.
He kept calm as he was ripped from his body. He wasn't sucked up, per se, since there was no up. He might not have moved at all, but his perceptions of his Padawan and their opponent were becoming more and more distant. That was when he sensed it. It was so powerful and pure; he had believed it to simply be a part of the Force power fuelling this... whatever it was. But now that he could sense its emotions, he believed that it was another being. One who was afraid, and angry, and desolate. But it still made no sense.
The first thing he noticed when he returned to physical form was how his body seemed to continue from where it left off. Then he felt something that would have cost him his balance had the Force not been guiding him. There were hundreds upon hundreds of signatures above him. They were at least a klick above him, but still definitely there. However, they were not normal Force signatures. They did not merely dent and ripple the Force. They warped and stretched and tugged at it, creating multitudes of colours beyond what he could sense. It was as if they were part of something greater than the Force itself.
He brought his concentration back to the plane he'd been spirited to, and only got a glimpse of the thirty metre long snake before his blade impacted the side of its head. The lightsaber, on nearly full power, didn't make a mark. It acted remarkably like a club, sending the creature reeling with the power of the Force-imbued impact, which had been intended to send the Sith assassin flying down to the reactor core. Qui-Gon began searching with his feelings, trying to understand the snake's plight. What he found astounded him. He was forced to continue fighting by its relentless attacks. But he didn't want to. This creature didn't have an evil nature. Or any nature at all. Her mind was suppressed and empty, as if it had been wiped so often as to have lost all identity. The presence of another being was being channelled through her.
Using the Force to attempt to hold the creature, he looked around with dismay at the army of younglings and the bird that were in combat with this creature.
'What in the Force have I walked into?'
When Harry arose on the metal floor, he nearly had a panic attack remembering what he'd done. The two parts of the man's body lay where they had fallen, in a slowly spreading pool of blood. The feeling of evil was gone now. And he, he just felt empty. He'd failed. By now, Ginny would be dead, and Lord Voldemort had returned, and all because he was too weak, too stupid... He'd become a cold-blooded murderer for no reason at all.
"You're finally awake, then," he heard a voice from in front of him say. He looked up at the Jedi Knight, who was staring at the spot where he'd appeared.
"Yeah," he replied in a low voice. Voldemort wouldn't have wasted time. Neville, Ron and the others would be dead. Hogwarts in ruins... He sniffled. Dobby had been wrong to come to him. He should've gone straight to Dumbledore. The headmaster was a genius. None of this would've happened if only…
"Who are you?" the stranger asked.
"Harry Potter," he mumbled. He felt more than a little detached.
"You know," the man went on. "You have the oddest Force signature I have ever seen."
"I'm sorry?" Harry said.
The man sighed, and held up his lightsaber. "I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan of the Jedi Order. Do you know of the Jedi?"
Harry gaped. Obi-Wan Kenobi himself?
"Which planet are you from?"
"Earth," he choked. "Look, I have a real big problem back home, and if you come with me we might be able to find that master you kept going on about."
"Earth? I've never heard of it."
"I know."
Obi-wan gave him an odd look. "We aren't going anywhere until you explain everything."
"There's no time! Your master could be dead already!" he yelled in frustration. Obi-Wan Kenobi was a legend. If he and his master couldn't help, no one could.
Kenobi seemed to scrutinize him before slowly nodding. He telekinetically pulled the fallen double-bladed saber to him before handing it to Harry. "Take this. That blade of yours is good, but it is nothing to this in a fight. Just don't let it touch you. You must let your feelings guide your actions rather than rational thought."
Harry pressed the first ignition button, and a red blade of energy formed from one end of the saber. Tucking the Sword of Gryffindor into his belt, he tested the new weapon's weight, only to find it didn't have any. The hilt was the only thing with mass, and it was balanced perfectly in his grip. It was rather disconcerting, having a weightless blade, but he found that it suited him quite well.
He nodded to Obi-Wan, and they grasped each other's left wrists. Harry then realised he didn't have a clue what he was doing, only to find himself leaving his body. It was a strange experience to say the least. Apparently, the Force could read his intentions just as magic could. Or maybe this was some jumped up form of Apparition.
The journey was long. Harry could sense the vast distance he had crossed in his coma, and yet it seemed to take no time at all before he was deposited back on solid ground.
Whirling on the spot, Harry saw that Riddle remained rather translucent, and almost jumped for joy at the fact that Ginny was still alive.
Obi-Wan, on the other hand, ran to his master's aid, his lightsaber casting dancing shadows on the gloomy walls.
"You fools," Riddle snarled. "You think you can hold the thousand year old basilisk of the mighty Salazar Slytherin with your little tricks? Avada Kedavra!"
"NO!" Harry cried. But these were Jedi. He needn't have bothered. They leapt out of the way of the curse, and it smashed into a column with the force of a bullet train, debris raining down upon a hastily erected golden shield. Neville looked strained by the effort, wincing as he dissipated the barrier. The spell had taken a lot out of the shade, though. It had become quite significantly more fuzzy and transparent.
Riddle sneered at them, and sent a concussive curse of some sort towards the Jedi. They simply stood with their arms outstretched, and the spell glowed blue around them where it was forcibly dissipated. However, they were soon back to jumping and diving as the immense snake once again lunged for them.
Harry cradled Ginny in his arms, and stared entranced at the Jedi Knights. He couldn't feel her. But he could feel so much... He felt a dark, cold presence closing in beside him, and as his mind reflexively opened itself to the relatively new source of sensation, he was suddenly drowning in whole new dimensions of existence. He could feel everything in the chamber, from the hollow, dead vessel that was the basilisk to the vibrant, bright lights of the Jedi; from the draining orange/red glow of Ginny to the seething dark greens of Riddle...
He didn't spare the wraith a glance. Something was whispering into his mind. It was not a language Harry recognised, but it was a warm, comforting sound, and he understood perfectly. He took the diary from the floor and stuffed it into his robe pocket. Lifting Ginny tenderly in his arms, he carried her as swiftly as he could to Percy.
"I can finish this," said Harry.
A wide eyed Percy did not question him, taking Ginny and hurrying to a safe distance with the others covering him.
Harry looked long and hard at the basilisk, which was at a complete impasse with the Jedi. Both sides had seemingly impenetrable defences. Removing the ornate sword from his belt, Harry took a moment to look carefully at it. He was not as surprised as he thought he should have been when he saw that the engraved lettering spelled 'GRYFFINDOR'.
"Bet the twins never dreamed of a Sorting Ceremony like this..." he muttered. He relegated the blade to his left hand, and unclipped the lightsaber from his belt. The weapon gleamed equally as bright as Gryffindor's sword, and inspired just as much awe. Activating the blade, Harry held the two swords in front of him. The lightsaber was slightly longer. He switched the heavier weapon in his left hand to his right, and let their two points rest close to each other on the ground in front of him. He'd never imagined himself in such a position; he must have looked exactly the part of a warrior.
Danger.
Riddle was smirking as he casually sent some sort of curse towards him. Harry's initial instinct was to run, but the same warm influence in his mind subdued his fears. It left only his determination. He charged the spell, inspiring Riddle to raise a curious eyebrow. Harry swung with both blades, and the spell was split to either side of them, evaporating almost immediately into nothingness. Without breaking step, Harry ran to join the battle with the great serpent. Time slowed down, and in a eureka moment that wouldn't be appreciated for many a day yet, he realised that if the Jedi were real, then maybe there was an alternative explanation for his time-control abilities. Just as the great snake opened its jaws wide to snap and lunge once more at its Jedi foes, Harry leapt into the air. His right hand came up, two fingers outstretched, and he held the basilisk's mouth open with an invisible, yet iron grip. As he breached the rows of foot-long fangs, he jammed the lightsaber through the roof of its mouth and activated the second blade. There was no resistance. Just as Harry was leaving the cavernous maw, he turned his grip into a crush, slamming the basilisk's jaws together over the lethal instrument.
A sickening crunch was accompanied by a loud sizzling.
He snapped back into real-time with a jarring suddenness, disorienting him as the forward flip he'd been halfway through abruptly completed itself, and he only barely kept his feet as he skidded to a halt on the other side of the great snake head. Pressing the sword into the ground to turn him, Harry found himself throwing up a cascade of sparks as he slid across the drowned stone floor. The Jedi were staring after him. The snake, on the other hand, was twitching and shaking. Lightsaber blades are incredibly hot, after all. The beast's brain would have been vaporised. There was a smouldering patch on the top of its head that was crumbling and smoking as the red blade burned through. Its tail gave one last shudder, and was still.
As one, the three of them turned to look at Riddle. The boy was staring disbelievingly at the immobile serpent. He threw back his head, and let out a terrible, inhuman scream.
Harry was being buffeted by waves of cold, hard, unyielding barriers of air. He clamped his hands over his ears and slammed his eyes shut, but unfortunately, he now had a sense that he could not close himself off to so easily. The pain was indescribable. Suddenly, it was reversed, as if a switch had been thrown. He felt his strength being sucked from him, and fell to his knees groaning. He was unprepared for the next flip of the switch. In fact, he felt so drained, he wasn't sure he could have even tried to roll away. It was a detonation. But there was no energy to it. It was more like a very rapid expansion of nothing. A nothing that eradicated everything it touched — that consumed everything with a primal, insatiable hunger.
He was on the edge. He wouldn't be able to hold on any longer. It wasn't a physical injury. His very soul was being consumed. But there was one bright spot left within him. It was miniscule, but it was strong, and it was growing. For the wraith had overstepped his bounds. Harry drew strength from the growing presence within him. He saw it, and smiled. His eyes snapped open, and he was unhurt by the oncoming storm. Harry Potter climbed heavily to his feet, and began to fight the tide.
Though it was a difficult task, with every moment the warmth inside of him grew, giving him strength. A dim blue glow faded into existence before him, and suddenly his movement was eased. Still there was resistance, but rather than walking into a gale force wind, he was wading through the pond at home.
Harry pulled the diary from his pocket without thinking. It just seemed the right thing to do, and he'd built up too much momentum to stop now. He was going to end this.
Looking up at the origin of the ongoing blast, Harry noted that the waves of dark energy washing over him were being absorbed by some form of force barrier. They were beyond black. Formless things seemed to dance among the currents; it was a mesmerising effect, speaking of terrible beauty.
He came now upon the corpse of the mighty basilisk. Every wave of the blast seemed to strip away a thin layer of its armoured skin, moulting it by force. There was no time to fear for the Jedi. Once again, he forced its mouth open with the power of his mind, and retrieved the lightsaber. Hefting it in his right hand, he swung hard at the jaw of the snake, cutting loose several of the venom-dripping katana blades it called fangs. He discarded Gryffindor's sword, and threw Riddle's diary to the ground with it. Feeling nothing but relief, he stabbed a fang deep into the pages of the little book, and the voice in his head quieted. The blast waves slowly weakened, and as they died, his shield faded.
Silence fell.
Harry watched amazed as black, inky blood poured from the hole he had gouged. He looked up quickly toward the wraith. It had stopped screaming. There was a glowing hole where its heart would be, and it was growing slowly. But it was the expression on Riddle's face that surprised Harry. There was no insurmountable rage. Tom Riddle looked shocked, and scared. As the hole grew to the size of Harry's fist, the memory fell to its knees, Ginny's wand clattering to the floor as he stared disbelievingly at the mortal wound.
"No..." Riddle hissed. Harry didn't have time to look away. The wraith exploded like a bomb, releasing a golden light so intense, it blinded Harry. The last thing he managed before falling into unconsciousness's welcoming arms was to throw away the still glowing lightsaber before it could claim him too.
Dragon Man 180: I won't confirm or deny anything here. Spoilers and that :) Lockhart didn't have much choice though, as Luna just showed she knew his game, so it was either he pick the battlefield or they would pick it for him. Hah, I'm sure they'll figure something out! Thanks for reviewing :)