Disclaimer: Not ours, unfortunately.

Chapter 25

Heir

The Phoenix flew around at dizzying speeds around the Basilisk. The snake kept swaying its head side to side, in order to get a lock on the red blur that was crossing from one eye to the other. Harry's familiarity with his Phoenix form was finally beginning to show. Now, he had to spend minimal energy to not be in mortal danger around the Basilisk. The snake was simply slashing wildly at the crimson blur with its tail, it had its eyes closed shut – apparently too dizzy to even open them.

It would need a huge amount of dumb luck to even scratch me with that tail.

He knew that the Phoenix always had the upper hand against the Basilisk, especially in such a vast space where there was plenty of room to evade and maneuver around. There was no way in hell that the Basilisk was ever going to touch him. The phoenix shot straight up, and then in a vertical arc, flew back – as if it was doing a moonsault– and as the circle neared its completion, the bird started charging straight at the neck of the snake. A deep gash suddenly manifested on the belly of the snake, following the crimson blur that passed near it. It was the newest in a series of fresh scratches on the belly of the beast, which spewed blood all over its lower body. It took a few seconds for the pain from the newest wound to register, but when it did, the Basilisk came down upon its belly with a high-pitched squeal.

"Noooo!" The hiss came from Riddle, who was still perched on the walls of the Slytherin face. The Phoenix issued a loud coo, and circled around the fallen snake.

It's over, Riddle. There's no way your snake can beat me. You've lost.

The Phoenix let out another coo. There was no longer any doubt in him, when the snake rises up, he would go for the jugular – a few well aimed blows and that would be it, this would all be over. Harry consecutively widened the radius of the circle he was flying in, to gather more momentum for one last swoop.

He thanked the founders that he was provided with an Animagus which was effective against a Basilisk, since he knew for a fact that the list wasn't very long.

Could they've known? The sudden thought flashed in his mind.

Nah!

But was he glad nevertheless. He was glad his luck was holding up. He could probably have taken down the Basilisk in his first fight, but there was Myrtle to consider. Her being in the room complicated things, and he could not attack and defend at the same time – as was evident in the result. But not now, now he had space and had to focus only on the snake. As the snake groggily rose up, he got ready to swoop down. All of a sudden, he noted the robed figure lying flat on the ground beneath him.

Mia!

She was still. Then, there was movement, although very little – her head tilted a bit to the side.

She's coming to! Registered Harry. Then, suddenly he saw Myrtle lying down there. The scene below him abruptly shifted to the first floor lavatory. Myrtle shuddered on the ground. Groggily, she got up only to realize that there was the Basilisk right in front of her. A huge breath of air was suddenly released from the nostrils of the Basilisk. She immediately snapped her head back and turned around. On the other side of Harry's field of vision, the Basilisk slowly rose… Harry knew all too well what this was leading to. He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the chamber, floating over Hermione. She was still coming to, her movements were still very little, but she was definitely waking up. Harry looked forward. The Basilisk had already risen up off the ground, having shaken off the shock and pain from its injuries. Its belly now was a shade of orange. Harry knew he had missed his window. Fighting now would have the added risk of Hermione getting involved and he did not prefer having to look out for another, even if it was Hermione who was more than capable of protecting herself. He had better chances one-on-one, and he had to keep it that way.

Guess now is the time for a change of setting.

Harry lunged at the Basilisk, but it had enough time to gather its bearings while he was distracted, and slashed its tail at him. Harry barely avoided it and went straight for the neck. The snake swayed its upped body sideways, causing Harry to miss and fly past the snake. Its tail came chasing after him, but he took a sudden, narrow angle turn to avoid contact. Harry then flew in a wide arc along the eye level of the snake, reducing his speed to a sufficient level so that the snake could easily track him. He continued along the arc until he was directly above one of the serpent heads on the side of the chamber. He then flew directly at the snake, which lunged toward him with its jaws wide, fangs closing in. At the last possible moment, Harry swayed, took a U-turn and flew along the pathway. The snake, mad that his prey had slipped right between its teeth, roared and gave chase. Harry kept a constant speed so that the Basilisk was never too far away from him. He then decelerated, so that he was inches from the snake and then quickly bent left and flew into one of the large pipes. The Basilisk followed, letting out intermitted roars. The roars got farther and farther until the chamber became dead silent, again.

Dizziness. Pain. The first thing she could discern was the pitchy ringing in her ears. There was only darkness before her even though her eyes were open. She tried to move, but the pain in her back was so severe that she immediately gave up. She wondered whether her back was broken and whether she would be unable to get up. Gradually, her vision and hearing began to return. Immediately, she could hear the roars of the Basilisk. She tried her hardest to get up, but it was not easy. Her whole body seemed to have gained in weight and it was a herculean task to even lift her hand up. As her senses recovered completely, the roars became louder and louder until suddenly, it receded farther and farther from her. She propped herself onto the snake figure, and took a few moments to catch her breath. She slipped and stumbled onto the pathway, but was able to land on the side of her thighs with her two hands supporting her upper body from the floor. Panting, she looked up to see the large empty chamber, with the occasional chunks of the wall and the statues spewed here and there. She saw the figure of Tom Riddle supported on the face of Slytherin, looking at her intently. There was a definite red color at the bottom half of his face. She recoiled and put her hand on her wand holster, but it was empty.

It must be somewhere near where I was lying.

She had the sudden thought of going for her wand, but only the eyes of Riddle seemed to be following her, the rest was unresponsive. She could not see any signs of his two wands anywhere on him or near him. So, she decided to approach him, but with utmost caution.

"Well, you're tensed." Riddle mused. His face was animated, with his facial features alone showing any sign of movement. Hermione did not reply, but kept advancing.

"So, you're thinking of finishing me off? Even if you manage that, my pet would still come after you – after it's finished with your boyfriend."

There was no reply, only footsteps.

"You're in no position to finish me! You think I don't know that? You're hurt, you don't have your wand, and you think your little walk is going to make me tremble? You are so…!"

Riddle's words were cut short by Hermione's fist digging into his left cheek. The force of the blow snapped his head sideways, and put him off balance. The punch had come as a genuine shock to Riddle as was evident from his eyes. His tongue swept through his gums and he spit some blood. A smile pursed his lips.

"That was a nice punch."

"I've had practice punching scumbags not unlike you." Hermione was rubbing her right fist.

"So you're going to punch the life out of me?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Only after you tell me how you found out about our powers."

"And if I don't?"

Hermione cocked her fist back. Riddle closed his eyes and swayed his face to the right, exposing his left cheek and he froze. He waited and waited, but the blow never came. He opened his eyes, and looked at her, only to find her lips half pursed in amusement and looking straight at him.

"You should see your pathetic face. Quit the tough talk, Riddle. Being the Slytherin that you are, you crave to control - you want to take the situation by the throat." She paused.

"Realize that by no means have you even one percent authority right now. So, be a good lad and tell me what you've learnt." Hermione was amazed at the sternness of her own voice. She could see him sweating, trickling down his forehead to mix with the blood on his lower jaw.

I've figured you out, control freak! All this while, you had total control over the surroundings, making you relaxed, cool and even smug. You could've never imagined you'd be so outmatched, here at the place that you carefully chose and lured us to. Take away your control, you're nothing but a little boy lost in the market.

"It was that night. The night that the mudblood died." Riddle suddenly splurted out. His voice was low but firm. His eyes were distant, out of focus.

Attaboy.

Cautiously, Hermione let out small waves of empathy to nudge Riddle on.

"You knew. You knew it was not the spider! You knew about visual petrification. But I thought nothing of it, brushed it aside as Bolt's brilliant diagnosis. It did not occur to me then – why you knew, why you were out so late, why you left early from the hospital wing…Until… Until…"

The distant Tom riddle stopped abruptly and turned his gaze directly into her eyes.

"Until I saw my pet's eyes!"

Hermione's eyes flew open.

Of course! Harry battled the Basilisk! He could easily have read it from the snake's mind!

"Bolt knew exactly what he was doing. There was no surprise, there was no shock. He even gave instructions to the mudblood. He knew!"

Riddle lowered his gaze and now was staring straight at the floor. Hermione kept giving off waves of empathy.

"It was easy theorizing the rest. You were out late looking for the Basilisk. You knew what the Basilisk's eyes could do. I assumed you could somehow track it, that's why you ran off early from the hospital wing, toward Bolt. I did not know whether you knew about the chamber or just the snake. So, I spent the next month testing my theories."

"How? We were watching you." Hermione asked as another empathy wave streamed outward.

"It was I who was watching you." A smug undertone danced in his voice. "You were very sloppy in your watch, a simple disillusionment charm was all that was required. Besides, there are plenty of boys in Slytherin, who'd happily become 'Riddle for a day'."

Damn! We were so distracted and unorganized by the death of Myrtle that he clearly had the upper hand.

"I had to know whether you knew about the chamber as well." Riddle continued on his own, the nudge from Hermione seemed to be very effective.

"It was simple enough. I had noted you visiting the first floor lavatory quite frequently in the following days, but I had to be sure. So, I opened the chamber, closed it immediately and hid myself. Sure enough, you – Amelia – came rushing in."

Hermione remembered that day, when Harry was brooding still, she had sensed the opening of the chamber and darted down, but the pull in her stomach was gone by the time she reached the entrance.

"I had planned this day for two weeks. I was always at an advantage! This was my sanctum sanctorum. How could I be overpowered? HOW…"

He's losing it. Hermione locked her right hand into a fist again and pulled it high. She was about to give another punch, this time with full intention to knock Riddle out, when suddenly a read streak of light emerged from behind her and crashed onto the wall, moving diagonally across the chamber. Both Hermione and Riddle focused at the cloud of dust that just formed, Hermione with still one arm raised.

As the dust settled, the first thing to become visible was the red color of the figure that had just crashed. Gradually, a battered Phoenix came into view, feathers strewn across the floor and completely out cold.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed in alarm.

The Phoenix slowly lost its color and faded into the human form. Harry was a bloody mess, the number of scratches and bruises could not be counted. Hermione was about to dart towards the badly-hurt Harry; when the Basilisk burst onto the scene, from the same pipe that Harry had apparently been thrown, with a thunderous roar. In an instant, the overlook of the chamber had changed. This sudden turn of events reflected on Riddle. The smug smirk returned on his face, and his distant eyes were now sharply trained on Hermione with some amount of ferocity. The trademark 'Riddle laugh' echoed in the chamber.

"Seems like my stalling worked! Oh, don't be so surprised Amelia. You almost had me, or so you thought." He elongated the word 'almost,' smirking all the while. Another laugh.

"You thought Bolt could handle my pet! He could have. But the moment he chose to go into the pipes, he was doomed. I need only wait, and that's what I did." Hermione looked at Riddle in surprise. There he was, unmoving from the neck down, yet still commanding over the field. There was a rumble in the rubble. Harry was stirring. Hermione turned to Harry. Riddle had noticed it too.

"Oh, how I wish I could get up and smack you down myself. But as fate would have it, that honor shall belong to the Basilisk. There won't be much of a difference though; I'll make sure you suffer before you die. Just don't look it in the eye and make it easy for the Beast, okay?"

Riddle looked at the Snake. "Kill the boy." He hissed.

Hermione noted the shadow of the snake coiling back and preparing to lunge. She closed her eyes, concentrated. She felt the tug in her stomach deepening. She opened her eyes, and looked straight at the Basilisk.

"STOP!"The hiss was loud and deep. It echoed throughout the chamber multiple times. The snake stood frozen, unable to decide whether to swoop down and kill the boy or to stop and lean back. It looked toward the two figures near the Slytherin statue. The girl was looking at it intensely, radiating a very commanding aura, while the boy was limp – his face was fixated on the girl, with his eyes and mouth wide open. He had never been this surprised. The Basilisk stood in that awkward pose for a few seconds contemplating the situation, then slowly and fluidly, coiled back and laid its head low – as if awaiting further instructions.

"You've done enough! Go back to sleep."

The Basilisk raised its head, considered the command for a second, and then began its fluid retreat toward the Slytherin statue. It paused near the girl.

"I will come back for you, when the time is right."

The snake let out a soft hiss and went inside the statue, not even once acknowledging the existence of Riddle. There was silence. Nobody moved even a muscle.

"Huff!" Hermione let out a huge breath of air. She turned to look at Riddle, and a smug smile – HIS smug smile – adorned her lips.

"Uh..Wha..I …" Words escaped Riddle. He tried again, but couldn't form a single complete word. Not once in his life, had he been so completely bewildered, beaten.

"Oh, don't be so surprised Riddle! You almost had me." Hermione said in the most sarcastic voice she could manage. She even elongated the 'almost' exactly as Riddle had done.

"Ho…How?" He managed to complete one word.

"Only a self-obsessed fool would think that he, and only he, has the rights to something. Such monopolies are always broken. You are a victim of your own arrogance. Slytherin himself weeps at what you've done in his divine chamber."

"YOU'RE WRONG!" The word Slytherin seemed to have triggered something in Riddle. He was angry, and more than that, he now seemed… desperate.

"I did what he wanted! I was his prophet! To purge the school of all those who are not worthy… Those were HIS words!" He wasn't sounding convinced, even to himself.

"Says who?"

"The legend. He wanted a pure world, he wanted a purge." He sounded more sure of himself. Yes, he felt what he was doing was completely right.

"Please! You judge a person based on three lines made obscure by centuries?"

"All that remains of him are his purpose, manifesting within this very chamber. This chamber symbolizes him! It is all that is required to prove…"

"To prove that he was misdirected. Like a lot of people are, in the robustness of their youth!" Hermione cut in.

"You think I would just believe whatever you say? Your opinion…" He scoffed. "…matters little to me!"

Hermione smiled. She knew it would come to this. Turning toward the Slytherin statue, she hissed.

"Guide me. Reveal your purpose."

There was a bubbling noise. Little by little, water began trickling from the right eye. The statue was crying. Amidst the drops of water, something metallic dropped to the floor with a clang. Hermione walked over, grabbed what seemed to be a metallic pipe. She pulled out a very old and shabby parchment from within. She unrolled and started skimming through, lovingly caressing what she knew to be true. Riddle saw her eyes sparkling. She took a few moments to read through, and then walked toward him. She held out the parchment before him. It took a while for Riddle to figure out the handwriting, it was small and there was little space between words or lines.

Heir,

Know that it is with a heavy heart that I ink my words. I've returned to the chamber which embodies my misdirection. I'd returned, steeling myself to erase my foolhardy ambition that I'd left here to sleep. I was hoping to kill it, to erase it from the annals of history - so that there would be no consequences of my mistake. But I have failed. It is not so that I do not have the magic in me anymore, no, that it is not. I am less spry these days but the power has not left me. In fact, it is that very power which is the cause of my magic that hinders me – love. I've come to realize that the Basilisk has a piece of my soul in it, I saw it in the gleam in its eyes – the same glow that showered unto me upon its hatching from the egg. Age has softened my heart and experience has shifted my ideals. I've become incapable of killing it. So, I leave it here - for you, my heir. I regret that I've created such a void beneath the castle. It has become ill-reputed even during my time. That is why I leave this note to you. Listen well.

It is only when you're alone that you crave power for yourself, that you crave superiority, you crave purity. Purity is a mere illusion, it does not offer stability. Stability… Stability is possible only through trust. Bonds. They build the world. They sustain it. Bonds. I've learned that, albeit a bit too late. I was jaded and succumbed to the temptation of superiority. In writing, that is what personifies me. Salazar Slytherin - the man who wants to purge the world – the man who disagreed with the founders – the man who left bearing a grudge. It is far too late for me to rewrite what's written of me. Let the world see me as it sees fit. But, do not let my past cloud your vision.

My heir, you should make amends on things I realized too late, make my legacy free from the baggage it carries. I know you'll be able to. Have faith. Trust others. Let them trust you. After all, a thousand year old geezer does trust you… very… very… much…

His gaze moved past the last line, blurring as it went. Tears welled up in his eyes. He felt the wall he was being supported on moving farther away from him. All his conviction was evaporating away. He could not even summon the strength to support himself on the wall. His upper body slid down the wall, and he ended up flat on the floor, on his back. Tears blurred his vision. He could only see the blackness of the far-away ceiling of the chamber. He felt that even that darkness was swirling around him. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, he wanted to weep but he simply had no strength. Finally, all the pain in his body that he had been reining in began catching up to his brain. In the next moment, it was overpowering him. The will to ignore the pain that he had maintained throughout this fight, had floated away moments ago. His head throbbed hard, but he was helpless. All that he thought was his destiny - was his purpose, seemed to melt away. He had no choice but to give in. The pain grew and grew, until he finally, blacked out.

He was well, and truly, defeated.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, especially Zafrah and comic critic.. We are waiting for more :D