AN: Thanks for returning and supporting this story! Love you guys! Also, apologies for the double circle symbols before and after Parseltongue suddenly being blue. They were simple black lines on my original google doc and then my Chromebook expired and apps stopped working so I got a new computer and this blue thing happened the first time I opened the document. *scratches head* Also, no Beta on this one.
Whispers in Her Hair
by Indygodusk
Chapter 17: Second Year - Diplomacy, Dodging, and Domes of Goo
Harry couldn't help but panic as he heard Tom Riddle's—heard Voldemort's voice hissing and echoing through the Chamber of Secrets and out over the dark water, "➿Come out, King of Serpents. Come out with your Queen and kill. The Heir of Slytherin commands you.➿"
Moving to hide behind the next pillar in line, Harry's mind spun with questions. What did he mean by Queen? Were there two Basilisks in there? More than two? With Hermione trapped in there with all of them? What were they doing to her? Harry wasn't sure he could even save her from one Basilisk. His heart raced. More than one Basilisk seemed insurmountable.
Harry tensed, bracing for the Basilisk to come out and do something terrible at any moment. Harry didn't know exactly what terrible thing he was expecting, but whatever it was... it wasn't what he got. There was no roar of attack, no harsh slap of scales over stone or snapping of razor-sharp teeth, just silence broken only by the sound of his own rapid breathing and the pounding heartbeat thundering in his ears.
"➿I said come out and kill!➿" Tom hissed through gritted teeth.
The Basilisk finally spoke, and the rusty grate of his usually freezing cold voice was instead dripping with hot petulance as it boomed and echoed out of the open cavern in Salazar Slytherin's mouth. "➿No, don't want to….➿"
Startled by the almost whining refusal, Harry couldn't help but glance at Tom's reflection in the water to see the older boy rear back, his expression screwing up in outrage. "➿What?!➿"
"➿No. Busy waking baby Queen.➿"
"I don't want—please! S-someone, anyone, p-please, get me out of here! Please!" Hermione's hoarse pleas were barely audible as Tom and the Basilisk's hissing argument grew heated, but for Harry, each of her words pierced his ears like thorns.
As Hermione became unintelligible due to her heartbreaking sobbing, a lump formed in Harry's throat. Hermione didn't deserve this. He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from bursting into tears along with her. Unable to bear it anymore, he stepped forward, only to get scared and jerk back against the chill stone of the pillar again. He was desperate to help Hermione but had no idea what he could possibly do that wouldn't lead to his quick and pointless death. Dying before Hermione was even saved wouldn't help anything (he'd also prefer not to die afterward if at all possible).
The reflection of Tom's eyes narrowed to slits in the still water. "➿You don't get to say no to me.➿" He didn't seem to care about Hermione's sobbing, just the Basilisk's disobedience.
"➿Kill later…. Busy now.➿" The Basilisk's voice became muffled as if he'd turned to speak behind himself. "➿Queen close. Wake up, baby Queen….➿" His voice dropped to a shrieking croon that sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard heard underwater. The terrifying sound made acid burn up Harry's throat, "➿Wake up and dance for me, my Queen. Mine.➿"
The sound of Hermione's sobs cut off with a choking sound. Heart jumping, Harry strained his ears, imagination going wild with explanations for her silence, each one worse than the last. He wasn't sure if it was real or wishful thinking when he caught the whisper of a hoarse but defiant, "Never."
The Basilisk gave a sharp whistle, a sound that stabbed into Harry's straining ears. Flinching, Harry clapped his hands over his ears. Everything became quiet again. Harry's imagination went wild. Anything could be happening in there.
It physically hurt not to turn and look for Hermione, not to come to her rescue or at least check to make sure she was still alive. If she wasn't… he had to know. He refused to believe she wasn't, but either way... he had to see her. His feet shuffled. He couldn't stand it a moment longer. Breathing out hard through his nose, head bowed, lips pressed flat, and fingers twitching, he gave into impulse. Sweeping up the gibbering voices in his head, Harry shoved them into a mental trunk and kicked the lid shut, locking it to muffle the distraction. They'd only slow him down.
"➿As the Heir of Slytherin, you will obey me,➿" Tom said with enough frost in his voice to freeze the underground lake solid. "➿If you don't, I will kill your Queen... and then I will imprison you without magical sleep, leaving you with only her decaying body to suffer for years in loneliness, starvation, and cold darkness.➿"
The Basilisk gave an angry hiss of metal shavings, followed by a scraping sound like a heavy wardrobe being dragged across the floor.
Harry had to move before it was too late.
Now, now!
Keeping his eyes on the ground to avoid the Basilisk's deadly gaze, Harry scooped up a handful of loose pebbles and threw them as hard as he could towards the back of the room. They plinked and skittered as they landed, one of them even making a sound that might be mistaken for someone grunting in pain. The loud sounds were impossible to miss as they echoed through the chamber. Harry hoped Tom and the Basilisk would think Harry was in the back of the room trying to run away like a scared child.
Instead—trying not to think too hard about what he was doing or the fact that he was actually a scared child—Harry crept forward, sticking to the shadows between the line of pillars and the wall. While Tom and the Basilisk were distracted looking for him in the back of the room, Harry was going to sneak into the mouth of Slytherin's statue and rescue Hermione. Then they'd slip into the water and swim to safety. Snakes couldn't swim, could they? In response, his mind conjured up the memory of watching a little snake skimming across the top of a pond. But a big Basilisk had to be too heavy to keep its head above the water without drowning, didn't it? Unless it was bigger than the lake was deep. No, this had to work… didn't it?
As if in reply, a derisive Snape popped into his mind. "Potter, are you in fact as stupid as you look? Because I didn't think it was possible, but I'm starting to think I was being too optimistic. Maybe we should re-sort you after all—that is, if anyone would actually take you."
Banishing Snape's mental projection with a rude gesture learned from Flint that would get him detention if any professor ever saw him use it, Harry crouched over and tiptoed forward to the next pillar in line.
His head hurt and he was shivering. It was so cold down here and he was still wet from fishing out a petrified Halle Harper. He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering and giving him away with the noise. He told himself quite firmly that the shivering was because of his wet robes and not from fear. Harry Potter didn't shake with fear. He hadn't for his relatives and the school bullies no matter how they tried to hurt him. Shaking was stupid anyway. After all, the stupid snake and Tom's spirit hadn't even done anything to him, not really. There was nothing for him to shake over, he told himself firmly, trying desperately to believe it.
Harry had only advanced two more pillars when Myrtle appeared right in front of his face, making Harry jump back to avoid smacking into her (not that he could smack into a ghost, but his instincts didn't remember that). "What are you doing?" Myrtle shouted, ghostly arms moving in and out of the pillar as she frantically gestured. "You need to get out of here now that that beast is awake!"
"Shh!" Harry pressed a finger to his lips and leaned forward until he was nose to nose with the ghost. "Quiet," he breathed softly. "Hermione's trapped in the tunnel the Basilisk came out of up ahead, so I'm going to sneak in and rescue her." Harry was impressed with the confidence in his voice considering his true feelings were the polar opposite every time he made the mistake of looking at them. Good thing he had such bad eyesight.
"Well that's stupid," Myrtle said, eyebrows jumping on her forehead as she looked him up and down. Glancing past his shoulder, she suddenly gulped and pressed a hand to her chest, eyes going dark and wide. "Oh Merlin," she whimpered, ducking down and wrapping her arms around her ghostly knees as if trying to hide.
Trying to control his renewed trembling (because of cold, not fear), Harry darted a look across the stone path and between the far pillars to the mirror-like surface of the dark lake, sliding his eyes up the water slowly until he could just see the reflection of a massive coil covered in dark green scales but nothing that looked like a head or eyes. His knees went weak, almost spilling him onto the ground. The Basilisk was even bigger than he'd expected.
Way bigger.
Having trouble catching his breath, Harry closed his eyes and swallowed back a whimper. He didn't want to be here… but someone had to help Hermione. Harry had to help her.
Jerking his head forward, he forced himself to open his eyes and search the water for the reflection of Slytherin's face. The large statue was easy to find. As the enormous snake slid out of Slytherin's shadowed mouth, Harry kept expecting to see the tail at any moment. Instead, the large, muscular body—the green of poison and putrefaction—just kept coming and coming, so long he was tempted to write the author of that book describing Basilisks a scathing letter just so he could call them a big fat liar.
Harry's fears broke out of their trunk in a frenzy, dug their claws into his calves, and cowered behind his knees, urging him to either freeze like a mouse in hopes of not being eaten or else start running away at top speed. Gulping in a breath, Harry mentally kicked himself free and jerked his eyes up to Slytherin's furrowed brow, trying to ignore the Basilisk just long enough to find his courage again.
Light flashed, drawing Harry's eyes to the tunnel where the Basilisk's tail still hadn't exited. From the shadows deep in Slytherin's throat came a spark of light. Harry blinked. By the time he opened his eyes again, it was gone. Maybe he'd imagined it.
Taking a deep breath, Harry felt overwhelmed. He needed help. Opening his mouth to beg Myrtle to find Valeria, he saw light flash again. His mouth closed. If he squinted at the watery reflection he could see the glow flicker in color. The undulating coils intermittently blocked the light, but it became bigger and brighter as more of the snake emerged.
Unable to identify it using just the watery reflection, especially through his spotted and smudged glasses, Harry ripped the glasses off his face and wiped them off on his damp robe before putting them back on to try again. Taking a quick breath for courage, Harry got down low and ducked just his head around the pillar, closing his eyes and moving until his head was angled to look into the dark mouth of the statue but hopefully not the open space in front of it where the Basilisk's eyes might be. Looking was a stupid risk, but he needed to know what was happening in that tunnel where Hermione was trapped.
He knew it was stupid… but he couldn't help but open his eyes and look anyway.
Harry didn't die instantly. Score one for Potters and being insanely lucky (emphasis on insane).
The glow inside the tunnel was still small but it definitely had colors, cycling from yellow to orange to a shrinking blur of pink-purple-blue, almost disappearing before small pops of white, yellow, and red bounced back and forth, right before going dark. Harry squinted. Several seconds later the yellow glow reappeared like a lone firefly in a dark field. Something about the pattern of light seemed familiar, tickling at the back of Harry's mind just out of reach.
When the coiled tail of the Basilisk finally came into view in the shadowed tunnel, Harry had to swallow back a cry of horror. He'd found Hermione. The tip of the Basilisk's tail was wrapped tightly around her body, holding her up in the air as it slid forward. Although alive, Hermione looked even worse off than he'd imagined—and his imagination had been pretty dire. Focused on her shadowed face, he only distantly noted that the glow came from a piece of enchanted cloth clutched tightly in Hermione's trembling hand, faintly illuminating a tear-streaked profile that broke Harry's heart all over again. He wished desperately for a broom, shaking with the need to swoop in and wrench her away to safety.
Pressing a hand to his aching chest, Harry wished for her sake that she'd stayed petrified instead of waking up only to suffer like this. There was blood under her fingernails and jagged scratches on her forearms, as if she'd tried to claw herself free of the snake's coils and been so desperate that she'd not noticed that she was injuring herself in the process. Bruises and abrasions were scattered across her exposed skin, though by the pattern he had to wonder how much of it was self-inflicted in her panic and terror. It made him feel sick.
Hermione's eyelashes were clumped with tears, her lips bitten bloody, and her eyes red and swollen as she held up a hand in front of her eyes and squinted against the light of the enchanted fires from the main chamber. Her matted hair had turned into dreadlocks and had several large, scarlet feathers tangled into it as well as being spattered with something dark yellow that had left drip lines down her exposed skin that made his fingers itch with the need to help her get clean.
Although damaged, Hermione hadn't given up yet. As she fought against the Basilisk's imprisoning coils in a futile attempt to escape, her hair snapped wildly through the air—almost as if it was alive separate from her body.
The struggling twisted her around just as they came fully out into the light of the Chamber, allowing Harry to finally see the other side of her body. He sucked in a jagged breath. Hermione's clothing had been torn as if by great teeth from her upper shoulder. Panicked, his eyes searched for bite marks. Smears of dark yellow and red stood out starkly along the torn edges of her white shirt, lending credence to the fear that she'd been bitten by teeth dripping with deadly venom... except for the fact that she had no bite marks and clearly wasn't dead.
Hermione was still alive. That was the important thing, even if he couldn't find any evidence of a bite or cut or whatever else might have caused the damage to her clothing or stained her in blood red and putrid yellow, though he couldn't see the rest of her chest as those curves were still modestly covered by the grace of double-stitched collars and the fabric bunching at the bend of her elbow keeping the torn cloth from falling all of the way down (not that he should be thinking about Hermione's bare chest at a time like this). In fact, the skin of her shoulder looked completely creamy and smooth without even a scratch or bruise, unlike the rest of her battered body... though as his focus widened and she moved farther into the light he was forced to re-evaluate his initial assessment. The bit lip, bruises, and fingernail scratches looked a lot better than he'd initially thought. Despite several suspicious red smears on her skin, he couldn't actually find any cuts, just pink abrasions. Even her eyes looked less red and swollen, though still just as miserable.
Distracted by a flash of light from the cloth in her hands, Harry finally realized what it was—the little Quidditch flag he'd made for Hermione. Harry felt gutted. Hermione was clutching the flag firmly in a white-knuckled fist even as she struggled to get free from her scaly prison. The last time he'd visited her petrified body in the infirmary, he'd noticed that someone had moved the flag from the side table where he'd left it into Hermione's stiff, outstretched hand. It must've come with her when she'd been taken. The bright sparks of the fireworks on the flag reflected off Hermione's dark eyes and the Basilisk's shifting scales. Had Hermione somehow woken up from her paralysis only to find herself trapped alone in the dark with a Basilisk? Would the flag have acted like a flickering candle to combat the darkness of the tunnel and bring her a bit of comfort and hope? Or had it only served to illuminate her prison and the awful size of the monster terrorizing her and made everything worse? Both scenarios made his stomach hurt and a lump form in his throat.
The low-level pain in Harry's head suddenly spiked like being hit with a bolt of lightning. The area behind his scar turned agonizing. Just like that, his mental devastation slid into crippling and paralyzing despair that made him want to sink to his knees and just give up. His muscles turned to jelly and he felt both doomed and apathetic, like he'd fallen into the bottom of a well and was barely keeping his head above the water and it was time to stop swimming and just let himself sink. He felt absolutely awful and, to be honest, completely unlike himself... almost as if the defeated feelings were pressing down on him from an outside source.
Before Harry could explore that thought, his scar pulsed painfully. The apathy disappeared and he found himself angry instead, bursting at the seams with enough rage to power a rocket to the stars. He wanted to run forward and rip off the Basilisk's head with his bare hands and then shred Tom's diary into pieces, burn it to ashes, and toss both head and ashes into a troll's latrine after torturing and slaughtering the troll's entire clan to work out some of his excess energy, he wanted to put his bloody and blackened hands on his hips, look around at what he'd destroyed, and laugh and laugh—
No, wait, he wasn't down here because he was mad and wanted to kill things— he was here for Hermione. Harry fought with himself, pushing through what felt like thick mud burying him up to his ears, trying to rise above the muck and confusion and think more clearly. He had to remember his purpose, which was… taking out the Basilisk for fame and glory and then destroying Tom for pure satisfaction?
No, no.. he was here for something else. Shaking his head sharply, Harry abruptly pictured mesmerizing curls and seized onto the image with all he had. Hermione. Harry was here to save Hermione. Not fight the Basilisk or die doing something stupid.
That damn Basilisk. His blood was practically boiling, flushing his body with prickling heat. He vibrated with the desire to rip Hermione free of the Basilisk's clutches so he could focus on hexing that stupid, worthless creature into a million quivering, bloody little chunks—no, not that!
Harry cleared his throat and corralled his wayward thoughts. He wanted to free Hermione so he could take her away to safety... so they could all get away to safety. Yes, that. Saving Hermione… without dying in the attempt by doing something monumentally stupid like confronting an ancient Basilisk head-on when he was still taking remedial tutoring for Defence Against the Dark Arts, tutoring from Valeria—who had loyally followed him down here into the Chamber. Myrtle had too. He had to be smart and keep them all alive—wait, Myrtle—keep them all safe then. Yes.
Roughly shaking away the high-pitched ringing in his ears and ignoring the strange throbbing of his scar and the even stranger, brutal turn of his thoughts, Harry made himself focus. His fingers flexed. He could feel his pulse pounding in his throat. He was not stupid or powerless or alone. He had allies along with his wits and his magic and—most importantly—he was in the right place at the right time to help. Being here now, while Hermione was still alive despite the horrible odds—that was a lucky gift. He would not squander it.
Harry was here to do good and be heroic, but there was no need to be stupid and reckless about it by blindly attacking a snake ten times his size and a hundred times more deadly. He wasn't a Gryffindor after all. He was a Slytherin! And Hermione, Valeria, Myrtle, and even Ginny Weasley needed him at his Slytherin best.
Though perhaps if he combined the best of both Slytherin and Gryffindor...?
A bold and cunning—not to mention arrogant (a shared House trait)—plan formed in his mind. It would take all of his intelligence and acting skills, but big rewards came with big—calculated—risks. Harry stood up, clutching tight to the example of his parents' heroism (ignoring their probably horrified reaction if they'd still been alive) and to the memory of Hermione's expression when he'd given her the gift of the Quidditch flag. Taking a deep breath, he strode forward into the open, ignoring Myrtle's screech and frantic fingers clawing through his body as she tried to wrench him back down to safety (or to keep him from drawing the Basilisk's attention in her direction, 40/60 odds).
"They'll all see you!" Myrtle shrieked in what she probably thought of as a soft voice.
(It wasn't).
"Good," Harry told her with as much forced confidence as he could muster considering the situation. He kept his eyes lowered respectfully—not so coincidentally in the opposite direction from where he guessed the Basilisk's eyes to be—and called, "➿ I would speak with you, oh King of Snakes!➿"
"You're hissing like a snake again, just so you know," Myrtle's wispy voice shook as she pressed coldly against his back with only her glasses, forehead, and the tip of her nose sticking out from the front of his body, "and the other boy's face just turned red. He looks familiar and kind of cute," she gave a fake giggle, "though you're cuter." Her face emerged farther from his chest—a strange sensation—and she tilted her head. "Actually, I think he was a Prefect when I was still alive. Maybe even Head Boy? How can he be a spirit but not one of the castle ghosts? How rude! No fair!" She stomped her foot on top of his foot. Harry was grateful she was a ghost and not flesh, blood, and hard shoes.
Harry tried to appreciate Myrtle's attempt to be supportive, but the distraction really wasn't helpful right now when he was trying to figure out just what to say to win over the Basilisk before it ate him. Flattery was always a good place to start. "➿Oh great King of Snakes, you—➿" Harry began, only to be cut off by Tom, whose abrupt surge of anger felt like another vicious creature circling the room.
"Shut your mouth, Potter!" said Tom.
"Harry?" Hermione asked in a tremulous voice. "Harry!"
"Little Harry Potter," Tom lisped like a toddler before laughing cruelly. "You aren't worthy of the gift of Parseltongue, Potter. You're a nobody with dead parents. You should join them. Today."
"Run, Harry, run!" Hermione screamed.
Afraid that he couldn't look at Hermione without breaking, Harry tensed his muscles and somehow forced himself to continue speaking, trying to ignore everyone else and focus only on his arguments to the Basilisk. "➿You deserve better than to be at the beck and call of a bitter spirit.➿"
"Harry, please, get away. Run…" Hermione sobbed.
Unable to hold back a second time, Harry looked over and caught Hermione's desperate eyes. Ignoring her plea, he instead tried to silently send her comfort and strength. She wasn't alone in the dark anymore and he wasn't running anywhere if it meant leaving her behind. They'd only run if they were running together. His next words were for both Hermione and the Basilisk, even though she wouldn't understand what he was saying since he was speaking Parseltongue. Keeping his eyes locked with hers he said, "➿ I offer you freedom from your slavery and confinement. You can trust in me.➿"
His words made the big snake go still, but the Basilisk didn't otherwise respond. At least he wasn't attacking Harry or Hermione. Hopefully, that meant he was listening… listening and maybe starting to be persuaded.
Tom must've thought the same thing. "➿Don't listen to him,➿" he snapped. There was something so menacing and commanding in Tom's voice that Harry had to fight the urge not to cower back and bow.
Harry locked his knees and fisted his hands. "➿Just let Hermione go and I will—➿"
"➿My Queen?!➿" The Basilisk's muscles contracted, winding tighter around Hermione's body and making her arch her back with a high-pitched, breathless cry. She pounded on the coils squeezing tighter and tighter around her body to no avail.
"➿My Queen. Mine!➿" The Basilisk hissed, lifting Hermione higher into the air and away from Harry as he continued to squeeze. Mouth opened in a silent scream, Hermione's face became twisted and bright red.
Tom spoke. "➿Yes, she is yours. Don't—➿"
Harry's voice went tight as he forced himself to not react to Hermione's pain, speaking louder to try and drown out Tom's voice. "➿—I will lead you out of the dungeon and into the forest—➿"
"➿—listen to this imposter!➿"
"➿—to find your freedom! The forest is full of interesting creatures to hunt and food enough to fill—➿"
"➿He lies!➿"
"➿—your belly for months on end. No more scavenging for small rodents barely worth the energy to swallow. All you have to do is free her and follow me outside to freedom.➿" The Ministry could do what they wanted about the Basilisk at that point. With Hermione free and his friends safe, Harry's part would be done.
The body of the huge snake gave a little quiver and abruptly relaxed around Hermione, enough to allow her to draw in a full breath. "➿But my baby Queen…?➿" the Basilisk said reluctantly.
"➿Yes, what is the King of Snakes without his Queen?➿" Tom asked pointedly.
Harry clenched and unclenched his fists. "➿Tom calls you King, but he treats you like a slave. What good is a Queen to a slave trapped in the dark with a cruel master? Ruler of nothing, not even himself! Don't you want more than that? Don't you deserve more, King of Snakes?➿"
"Please," Hermione said, hands braced on the Basilisk's scales as she looked along his body towards the head, "listen to him. Please let me go. I beg you."
"➿Let me lead you out into the forest where the sun shines and large animals roam, prey for a strong hunter,➿" Harry said with all of the persuasion he could muster. He wished he could look the Basilisk in the eyes to see how it was taking his words, but as that meant instant death he was stuck staring at his rear. "➿It's simple. Just let Hermione go. Ignore Tom and listen to me. I'll free you!➿"
"➿Food and sun…➿," the Basilisk sighed wistfully.
Harry's breath caught with budding triumph as the Basilisk's hold around Hermione slowly started to unwind and she began to slip free.
"➿Don't be a fool! The boy only wants to take your Queen for himself. He doesn't care about you. He's trying to steal your only chance for hatchlings and a legacy. He's a liar and a thief! Obey me and keep your Queen...or die alone and forgotten in the dark!➿" Tom's charismatic voice rang out, catching the Basilisk back in his thrall and crushing all of Harry's hopes.
Body going taut, the Basilisk shrieked. His tail squeezed and whipped through the air, jerking Hermione up and from side to side. The sound of her hoarse screams threaded through the Basilisk's cry of, "➿My Queen, not yours! My mate, only mine! Forever!➿"
Myrtle screamed and jumped sideways, disappearing most of the way into the nearest pillar. All he could still see was the end of a ghostly, quivering pigtail.
"➿Stop!➿" Harry shouted. Hermione's screams of fear and pain cut off as she ran out of air again. It made Harry feel like someone had stabbed him in the gut with a splintered broomstick. "➿Stop hurting her! I'm trying to help you! Please, just listen to me!➿"
But the Basilisk didn't listen. Harry hadn't been good enough. He'd failed.
"We should get out of here," Myrtle said, voice tight with fear as her face and ghostly hands shot out of the pillar and grabbed at his arms. She tried to tug him away, pulling his robes tight against his skin for a split second. "C'mon, Harry, we have to leave! Please!"
Mind in turmoil, Harry slowly stumbled back. There had to be something else he could do. He couldn't just leave it like this….
"➿You will obey me. Protect your Queen and kill the thief, my King of Snakes! Kill him!➿" Tom called.
Harry had failed at diplomacy, but that didn't mean he was giving up. He still had to save Hermione and defeat Tom. He had to keep trying.
But how?
Following an impulse, Harry ducked sideways, passing through Myrtle's body and ignoring her wail of outrage at being walked through and then rapidly left behind. As Harry scurried between the narrow space between the pillars and the wall, he figured out what he was going to do. If he could just get the Basilisk to drop Hermione and follow Harry to the back of the room, she might be able to escape by herself while the snake was distracted. Harry would have to survive that chase, of course, but Valeria had to be back at any moment now. Valeria would definitely figure out a better plan, one that kept everyone alive long enough to escape, Hermione included. Not even a Basilisk could take out Valeria, right?
Right...?
He tried to ignore the scared little voice in the back of his mind asking why Valeria hadn't returned when Myrtle had, the voice that whispered that perhaps Valeria had returned for Harry only for her to look up at the wrong moment and catch the Basilisk's eye, the voice whimpering over the idea of tripping over her cooling body during his retreat and having to add her to the list of lives lost saving the worthless hide of Harry Potter.
At that point, Harry noticed the reflection in the water of the Basilisk's body lunging forward, much faster than he'd been moving before, faster than Harry thought was possible for a snake that size. Flinching back and knocking his shoulder into the wall, Harry blindly cast a blasting hex followed by a pinching hex before trying to run away even faster. The water showed the light of the first spell overshooting the Basilisk's body and dissipating into the water.
However, the second spell hit the big snake's body dead on. Before Harry could celebrate, the light seemed to almost congeal and then drip down off the scales, disappearing as it hit the ground.
Oh no, was the Basilisk impervious to his magic?
No, Harry assured himself, that spell was only to test his aim and it was a weak spell anyway. He'd do better. The next spell would be bigger and better. It would work. He needed something to get the snake's tail to untwist from Hermione's body and free her. Of course, after that, he'd need something to stop the Basilisk from killing anyone or stopping them from leaving, but he could only focus on one problem at a time.
He could hear the basilisk getting closer. Harry needed to cast something now, something good. Yet his mind was blank. The sound of the snake got closer. Harry's breathing became shaky.
Panicking, Harry blindly pointed his wand over his shoulder and shouted, "➿Animalis inflonum!➿" He felt like an idiot the second he finished casting the Twist and Swell Hex. Even if it worked it wouldn't work fast enough, much less stop the Basilisk's deadly stare. As he jumped over a piece of rubble in his path and chanced a look at the water, he saw the reflected light of the spell twisting through the air in quick, sinuous curves instead of a straight line. The movement reminded him of a snake moving leisurely through grass, making him realize that not only had he cast a slow-acting spell, but he'd also cast it in Parseltongue, probably rendering it weak if not completely useless.
The spell hit the snake's body. It didn't drip off. Instead, within seconds the surrounding snake scales started to glow. As soon as the light faded the flesh started to bulge and shift, the balloon animal hex working faster and on a much larger scale than he'd ever seen it do before.
"Ha!" Harry cried, pumping a fist into the air.
Mere seconds later he noticed the rapid approach of a massive green jaw filled with sharp, stained teeth. It wasn't a reflection. It was also way too close! Harry squeezed his eyes shut even as he whipped around towards the back of the room. He opened his eyes again just in time to avoid slamming face-first into a column. Jerking to the side just in time, Harry found himself in the middle of the path again. The basilisk had to be close. Not ducking by the wall again because it was too narrow to run really fast, Harry pumped his arms and raced towards the back of the room in a zigzag pattern that hopefully made him harder to catch.
"Run faster!" Myrtle bobbed up by his side and effortlessly kept pace without ever once moving her legs. "That spell you hissed is actually working," she sounded both surprised and impressed, "but don't stop running!"
Unable to help himself, Harry cast a quick glance over his shoulder, aiming his eyes at the tail region even as he tried not to slow his pace. It looked like his spell had caught the middle of the Basilisk's body. The Basilisk was squirming, body twisting into two long, pinched-off loops—probably either a flower or bunny ears. Harry dropped his head forward again—grinning breathlessly at something finally going right—and tried to pick up his pace, losing sight of Myrtle in the process.
From the corner of his eye he could see the reflection of his arms pumping each time he passed a pillar: reflection, pillar, reflection, pillar, refle—green jaws, sharp teeth, and flaring nostrils! Not a reflection!
He was too young to die! Slamming his eyes shut, Harry threw himself away from the Basilisk. His hand glanced painfully off the hard stone and his pinky bent in a direction it wasn't ever meant to go. Something snapped, followed by white-hot pain that shifted to a throbbing ache. He recognized the pain—it was broken. He knew because he'd broken it before when using his hand to try and protect his face from his uncle's temper—a stupid idea since his Uncle had just hit him for twice as long for trying to hide from the punishment in the first place.
At least it wasn't a broken nose, he told himself semi-hysterically. They always bled like leaky faucets. He probably wouldn't survive for long if he left a trail of blood considering how smell was the strongest sense in most snakes—not that he was likely to survive for long anyway at this rate. Pushing himself up, Harry tried to scramble to his feet but slipped on a piece of gravel, slamming back onto his belly just as a hot gust of rank air ruffled the hair on the back of his neck. Harry would've gagged if the Basilisk's jaws hadn't snapped shut with a SNAP just above his back.
Someone screamed his name but he wasn't sure who. It didn't matter, not if he didn't survive the next ten seconds. Moving faster than he ever had while chasing a Snitch, Harry frantically jerked to the side, tucked and rolled, both feeling and hearing the CRUNCH BOOM as the Basilisk's head hit the ground where he'd just been and bounced, cratering the pathway and breaking the nearest pillar off its base, sending rocks and dust flying through the air.
Harry blindly tried to leap to his feet so he could run and slammed his forehead into the wall instead. It hurt. A lot. Almost as much as his broken pinky finger. Somehow everything hurt, even the back of his knees. He was having trouble catching his breath too.
Miserable, Harry's eyes popped open. Myrtle's ghostly face was mere centimeters away, her eyes wet behind her glasses and her mouth screwed up in terror. "Get up, Harry! Get up and run!" Myrtle's arms swished through his body in a futile effort to pull him to his feet.
Pushing away the pain, Harry lurched to his feet and stumbled into motion. Staying still meant death. So did looking up. His lungs finally cooperated, pulling in a sweet chest full of air. It was just in time for Harry to scream and duck as the pillar he'd just passed exploded beneath the Basilisk's charge. How he regretted his former confidence and arrogance!
Harry forced his trembling muscles to pick up their pace, trying to keep his eyes focused on just in front of his feet to keep from tripping or running into something as he ran a jagged path between the narrowest part of the wall and the pillars, weaving back and forth and around pillars trying to make it more difficult for the Basilisk to fit through and eat him. Grand plans forgotten, his priorities had winnowed down to just staying alive.
The Basilisk followed closely on his heels, smashing through pillars with angry shrieks and sending shards slicing at Harry's unprotected skin, leaving scratches and welts. Chunks of rock thudded into his back and legs as pillars fell like dominos at his back. Right now they were probably the only thing standing between him and death. Unfortunately at some point, the room was going to run out of pillars.
Panting, Harry tried to think of something—anything—to save himself. Perhaps he could escape into one of the narrower tunnels in the back? Get to that snake door, trap the Basilisk on the opposite side, and lock it? It couldn't be too far back if he was running full out instead of creeping along like before. Maybe he could—
Harry risked a glance up and found his eyes caught by the gleam of red hair. Ginny Weasley lay unconscious on the ground next to Tom's diary. Wait... Ginny was in the front of the room, not the back! There was no way out in the front! Heart skipping a beat, Harry felt despair welling up from the soles of his feet to flood his eyes. Tears blurred his vision but he refused to slow down. Not yet.
As the looping end of the Basilisk's tail swung into sight ahead of Harry, the Twist and Swell Hex made the snake's body convulse. The tail jerked sideways over the water and up to hit the ceiling with a CRACK. Harry ducked and swerved to run closer to the wall. Rocks fell into the lake in a cacophony of splashes, thankfully far enough away to miss hitting Harry with anything but a wave of water.
Spitting the taste out of his mouth, Harry's vision became blurred by the water droplets on his glasses, turning Ginny into an orangish blob and everything else to shadows. Swiping his glasses with his sleeve, Harry looked up just in time to see the inflated loops at the back of the Basilisk's tail twist into the shape of a gargantuan toad with a violent wrench of flesh and scales that made the Basilisk release a harsh gurgle. Hopefully, that meant he was too distracted to keep chasing Harry.
Something moved inside the balloon toad's left eyeball. As Harry dodged around a puddle to avoid slipping, trying to stay near the wall and pillars, he saw that it was two feet kicking desperately. Seconds later the feet became legs and a torso in familiar school robes and then Hermione came tumbling out. She landed next to Ginny with a cut-off cry. The impact tore loose the flashing flag in Hermione's hand, which slid off across the floor like a shooting star.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted breathlessly, moving away from the wall to race towards her side as quickly as possible. It put him out into the most exposed part of the path. By the time he realized what he'd done, it was too late.
Just over Harry's shoulder came a snort of hot air and the sound of the Basilisk's malevolent hiss. Blood turning to ice and legs to water, Harry missed a step and slipped in a puddle. It saved his life. Sharp jaws snapped closed right where Harry had been mere seconds before, even closer than the last time. The twisted balloon tail slapped down in front of him an instant later, hitting so hard it cratered the path between Harry and the sprawled forms of Ginny and Hermione up ahead.
Unable to slow down, Harry slammed into the Basilisk's body and bounced back. His earlier Twist and Swell hex had made whole sections of scales lift partially up from the meat of the Basilisk's body edge-first instead of lying flat. Bouncing off that scraped off several layers of Harry's skin, even with his robes on. Confused by the impact and blinded by the cloud of dust and debris, Harry fought to keep his footing and failed, landing on his hands and knees with a sharp jolt. He couldn't see anything, but hopefully neither could the Basilisk.
As Harry scrambled away, he felt several violent gusts of air from near misses as that toad tail bounced from ground to pillar to ceiling in an attempt to smash him. A coil slapped onto the water, sending up a violent spray. The wave of water tripped up Harry, knocking him flat onto his belly and clearing the air of dust.
The sound of Hermione coughing made his head rise from where it had been laying pathetically in a puddle. He saw that the wave had pushed Hermione almost into the water. As for Ginny, she'd been shoved up onto her side against the edge of the runic circle.
Despite being the only one (except Myrtle) still dry in the entire Chamber, Tom was livid. "➿You idiot snake, kill the boy, not the girls! I need mine alive until the ritual is complete! Ignore that hex and get him!➿"
Pushing himself up onto one knee, Harry sucked in a breath at discovering a new bruise and looked down to check on his still-throbbing pinky, just in time to catch a flash of movement reflected in the puddle under his knee. Reacting as if he'd just seen the Snitch, Harry immediately moved. Unfortunately, he wasn't on a broom and his luck had just run out.
At least... partially.
He was fast enough that the teeth missed tearing into him, but not fast enough to escape a glancing blow. It felt like being clipped by the Hogwarts Express. The force catapulted him through the air. Harry landed belly-first, air exploding from his mouth. His chin bounced off the ground and split open. He barely escaped biting his tongue in half as he shot forward across the wet ground as if it was a slip and slide at an amusement park instead of bare rock.
Panicked, Harry slid head-first between two pillars and straight towards where the drop-off into the lake would be if it wasn't blocked by an inflated loop of the Basilisk's body bristling with what looked like jaggedly sharp scales. Hands scrabbling against wet stone, Harry tried and failed to stop his momentum. With his eyeballs about to be impaled on the Basilisk's scales, Harry expected the worst.
Until an invisible force wrapped around his ankle and jerked him to a stop. Seconds later, water from the lake surged up and around his body, almost like he was in the center of a whirlpool. It encased him in a translucent dome before freezing with a rustling crackle into a dome of ice.
Over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, he could hear Valeria's voice.
Valeria was alive! And she hadn't left him!
Sobbing in relief, overcome, Harry dropped his head to the ground. Familiar pink goo splattered over the ice seconds later, coating it completely before hardening into another layer of protection. His heart swelled with gratitude even as he lay prone, not thinking, just panting for air with his eyes closed and letting himself feel safe.
He opened his eyes just in time to see a rapidly growing shadow right before it slammed down on top of his shelter. Harry flinched and screamed, pressing flat against the ground. Beneath the shadow's weight a slowly spreading crack formed in the dome of ice and goo overhead.
Harry heard Valeria shout, "Myrtle, where's the head?!"
The darkness pressing on Harry's dome lifted away only to slam back down again. Harry couldn't hold back a whimper. The cracks slowly spider-webbed, but the ice and goo didn't shatter. Not yet. However, it didn't look like it would last through even three more hits, if that.
"I can't look for it! I don't want to die!" Myrtle cried hysterically. "Not again!"
Valeria stopped casting just long enough to snarl, "If Harry dies, I'll end you myself!"
"You're so mean!" Myrtle wailed.
The next expected attack on Harry's shelter didn't come. Instead, he heard the Basilisk screeching and saw the shadow dim as it jerked away, followed by Myrtle's high-pitched and wavering voice. "I think you got it that time? Keep casting your goo in that direction while its body is still looped over that broken-off pillar, but cast faster! Faster!"
"I'm trying!" Valeria snapped before her voice dropped back into that terrifying staccato cadence it got when she cast spells so fast her wand almost seemed to blur.
"Well try harder!" Myrtle said.
"Aim more right!" interrupted a raspy voice that took Harry several seconds to recognize as Hermione's.
Distracted by trying to look in her direction, Harry was caught off guard by the Basilisk's next attack. BOOM! Harry cried out as ice shattered and fell, slicing across his exposed skin. Only the hardened pink shell remained. It stretched instead of breaking beneath the Basilisk's weight, bulging down until it almost touched his head. The shadow of the Basilisk's body receded again and Harry gulped back a terrified sob, knowing that the next attack would likely turn him into paste.
Busy watching the shadow of his approaching death, Harry only distantly heard Hermione's bossy shout, "Aim higher, left, no not there—your other left!"
The spell on the ice shards covering Harry finally failed, leaving him lying in a puddle of freezing cold water. Then the pink shell started to dissolve, dripping slimy cold globs onto his head and back as it grew thinner and thinner.
"Down, more left, MORE LEFT, there, stop THERE!" ordered Hermione, accompanied by Myrtle's unintelligible screams of alternating terror and excitement. "Stop! Goo him in the eyes! Right there! Again, AGAIN!"
The Basilisk bellowed, his cries echoing off the walls in a chorus of rage so awful that the hair all over Harry's body quivered on end as if trying to tear free from his skin and flee with or without him along for the ride.
Pushing up onto his hands and knees, Harry pushed back against the remaining pink membrane until it ripped open with a leathery slurp and stood up, only to see the Basilisk's dark green body thrashing out over the water and up the pathway, sending up sprays of water and propelling pieces of broken stone through the air. Harry ducked a flying bowl of enchanted fire and ran forward, tucking himself between two large pieces of rubble in a crouch. Feeling warmth on his leg, he looked down to see an ember smoldering on the hem of his wet robe. He flicked it away with a grimace.
"You did it! His eyes are covered and he's blinded!" Hermione shouted triumphantly. "It's safe to look!"
Myrtle cackled gleefully.
Crouching down and cautiously sticking his head out, Harry found his eyes ignoring his orders and zipping straight to Hermione instead of towards the supposedly blinded Basilisk. Even with the wear and tear of being kidnapped, she still looked magnificent. Eyes shining sharp as an athame and teeth bared in a vicious grin, the knotted chunks of her hair danced mesmerizingly around her head almost as if they were alive.
"➿If you can't control her, kill her. Kill them both!➿" Tom ordered the Basilisk balefully.
Reminded that the danger wasn't over yet and that his luck had to be running out soon, Harry bolted to his feet and froze on seeing the Basilisk's face for the first time. The cap of pink goo covering the Basilisk's eyes didn't make him seem any less scary. Maybe that was because of the big teeth and flashing fangs as he threw back his head and shrieked in a voice of frostbite and rotting blood.
AN: Thank you so much to all of my dedicated readers who are still here despite the slow updates! Life's been crazy for all of us. My mom needed help moving, my kids started school, I tried a new medication and then had a bad side-effect and so stopped, and my fridge broke, got fixed, and then broke again three days later (broke again today in fact) All of the stress made writing an uphill battle. But I keep trying for you guys! I actually have 1200 words and the entire outline of the next chapter written. I also have a snazzy new violet, lavender, and pink hair color to help me feel creative. We're finally hitting the end soon, everybody. Thanks again for traveling along with me on this journey! Please keep encouraging me!
