When Hermione entered the Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, it was with determination to her stride. She was pleased to see there was still a large smear of mud across the tile from where the basilisk had been after petrifying the Muggle Studies teacher.

"About time," Harry commented. "I almost thought you were going to be late."

Hermione rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out and him, and Harry grinned.

Draco watched from the other side of the bathroom where he was leaning against a sink. A struggling bag squirmed next to him on the floor.

"What now?" he asked. "Why is Potter here?"

"Harry is here to help set the scene," Hermione said. She looked at the two boys. "We're going to set the stage for an abduction."

"An abduction?" Harry asked, confused. "Why?"

"If I just go hunting for Slytherin's monster, I'd get in trouble," she pointed out. "If I go after it to help save a classmate, I'm a hero."

"You're going after the monster?" Harry said, his jaw dropping.

"Wait, you're going to save me?" Draco made a face. "I'm a pureblood. Why would it come after me?"

"Because you annoyed the Heir, and the Heir decided they wanted you dead," Hermione said shortly. "Now. Draco, hide in one of the cubicles."

Draco obligingly went to hide in a stall. There was a feminine "oooo, who are you?" and giggle from behind the door, and Hermione stifled a snicker.

"Okay, Harry," she said. "What we're going to do is fabricate a memory. If anyone tries to read your mind about what happened here tonight, this is what you're going to think about, alright?"

"People can read minds?" Harry said, eyes going wide. "That's—that's not okay!"

"We can deal with that later," Hermione said. "Right now, I need you to follow my lead. We're going to go down the hallway and be talking about something inconsequential. Abruptly, I'll yell something like 'it's got Draco!' and charge off toward the bathroom. You sprint after me."

"Err—alright, if you say so," Harry said dubiously.

She hid her bag around the back of the sinks before setting off down the corridor with Harry, chatting about exams. Harry was very bad at adlibbing, to Hermione's frustration, or maybe it was just the topic of conversation she'd chosen.

"I'm not that worried about exams," Harry said, his voice cadence off. "But what about the poor petrified people? Will they have to take exams?"

"They'll probably all end up repeating a year," Hermione said. "I know after half a year unconscious, I certainly wouldn't be in any state to—" She broke off suddenly with a wide-eyed look of terror. "Merlin alive! It's got Draco!"

"Wait, what? Hermione!"

But Hermione was tearing off to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom as fast as she could, and she could hear the thundering of Harry's feet behind her as he tried to keep up.

When he caught up, panting, Hermione was next to the sink with her wand out, her eyes huge with alarm.

"The sink was just closing," she told him urgently. "It was a giant snake – I saw it, it had Draco!"

"A giant snake?" Harry sputtered. "I thought the monster just petrified people! Is it going to swallow him?"

"There's not time for that now!" Hermione said. "We have to save Draco. Harry, I need you to open this sink!"

"Open it?" Harry repeated. "How?"

"With Parseltongue," Hermione said urgently. "Just say 'open' or something!"

To her pleasure, Harry stood back a moment, twisting his face up, before he hissed.

A loud chunk noise was heard, and there was an ominous grating noise as the sink sank into the floor, revealing a large, open sewage tube.

"Oh my God, Hermione. You're not going down that, are you?" Harry said, genuinely horrified.

"I have to," Hermione said with determination. "Of the two of us, I'm the one in Slytherin. I'll stand the best chance against Slytherin's monster. You – go and run and find a teacher for help! Go and get Professor Snape!"

"Snape, Hermione?" Harry made a face. "Really?"

"He's the Head of Slytherin," Hermione snapped. "Of course he's who you should get. Now go!"

With no further ado, she jumped down into the tube, Harry screaming after her.

"Hermione—!"

After his scream and loud gasps trailed off, Hermione levitated herself up from where she'd been hovering and hiding just under the lip of the tube and back out of the pipe.

"That pipe is disgusting," she said, looking with disgust at the muck on her shoe. "Pardon me a moment."

She took off her nice green outer robe, shoving it into her pack, while Harry stared at her.

"That… that's the memory we were faking?" Harry asked, slowly putting it together. "That's what someone will see if they read my mind?"

"That's the idea," Hermione said, fixing her bag. "If that's what you focus on, that's what they should see."

Harry looked at her with concern.

"But you're really going down there?" he asked. "To fight the monster?"

"I'm going down there to kill the monster," she clarified. She shot him a grin. "You're not the only one at this school who can be a hero, Harry."

Harry looked surprised, but he slowly grinned back.

"I suppose someone needs to save the day," he said. "Malfoy's going to help you?"

"He is. Draco?"

Draco emerged from the cubicle, looking highly annoyed.

"These blasted things are fighting," he snapped, holding up the burlap bag. "Can't we stun them or something?"

"Do you know the stunning spell?" Hermione challenged, and Draco made a face.

"No," he admitted. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to Harry.

"Harry, I need you to wait here an hour," she told him. "Keep an eye on your watch. At nine o'clock, I need you to sprint to Professor Snape's office in the lower dungeon and tell him that the monster's taken Draco, and that I went after them to save him. Lead him and his guest to the bathroom here. Make sure your voice sounds as urgent and worried as possible."

"I don't think urgent and worried is going to be a problem," Harry said sarcastically. He paused. "Are you sure about this, Hermione?"

"Completely." She gave him a grin with a confidence she didn't feel, slung her bag over her back, and stepped up to the tube. "Ready, Draco?"

"As I'll ever be," Draco groused, moving to stand next to her.

"One hour, Harry," Hermione reminded him.

"One hour, Hermione," he repeated. He fixed her with a sharp look. "No dying allowed."

Hermione smirked. "Understood."

"This pipe is disgusting," Draco announced, wrinkling his nose. "It smells like rotting fecal matter."

"Good thing we're only jumping into it, then, isn't it?" Hermione said wryly. "On the count of one, two, three—!"

Draco's scream echoed through the pipe the whole way down.

Hermione sped down the mucky pipe, like rushing down an endless, slimy dark slide. In the dim light she could faintly see openings to other pipes flashing by, branching off in all directions, but none of them were as large as the one she was on, which started sloping steeply downwards. Hermione knew she was falling deeper and deeper below the school, Draco's scream echoing behind her as he thudded slightly at the curves.

Abruptly, the pipe leveled out, and Hermione shot out of the end with a wet sound, skidding across the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. She got to her feet and stood aside as Draco came whizzing out of the pipe, too, burlap bag clutched to his chest.

"This is disgusting," Draco said, getting to his feet and grimacing. "I am covered in muck."

"We must be deep under the school," Hermione said, ignoring his comment. "Probably under the lake," she added, looking at the dark, slimy walls. "Give me the bag."

"Wonderful," Draco said sarcastically, handing over the squirming burlap sack. "And being under the lake matters because…?"

"Lumos," Hermione said, and she heard Draco echo her a moment later, his wand lighting as well.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the moonlight.

"I don't know much about where we're going," Hermione told him quietly, though her voice echoed. "I think there's a Chamber up ahead, made of stone. That's what we're looking for, anyway."

Draco turned to stare at her, his mouth agape.

"The Chamber of Secrets?" he hissed. "Hermione, how do you know where this is?"

Her mind flew back to Tom's diary, hidden safely under her bed.

"I have my connections," she muttered.

There was a loud crunch as Draco stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Hermione held up her wand to see the floor littered with small animal bones.

"Did the monster eat these, and this is all that's left?" Draco wondered aloud. "Or is this just where rats come to die?"

"No idea," Hermione said, leading the way around a dark bend. "Could be either—"

She abruptly cut herself off, seeing something huge and curves lying across the tunnel. Fear spiked through her and she turned to Draco, panicked.

"Cover your eyes!" she said, hiding her face. "It's not supposed to be here! It's supposed to be in the Chamber—"

"Hermione," Draco said. "Hermione, it's not moving. It's okay. Maybe it's asleep—"

"Draco, no—"

But Draco crept forward, holding his wand aloft, before relaxing.

"It's alright, Hermione," he said. "It's just a skin."

Hermione turned to see Draco was right. The giant shape she'd been startled by was an enormous shedded skin of a snake, crusty and empty on the floor. The snake that had shed it must have been over fifteen feet long.

"Merlin's ghost," Draco said, looking pale. "That—that's from Slytherin's monster?"

"It is," Hermione said grimly. "Come on."

The tunnel turned and turned again as they walked on in silence. Draco was very pale and trembling slightly, though he was doing his best to hide it, and Hermione held her wand aloft as she led the way, grim determination settled in her stomach.

At last, as she went around yet another bend, she saw a solid wall ahead with two large entwined serpents carved on it, their eyes set with great, glittering emeralds.

"We left Potter behind," Draco said. His voice was shaky. "How are we going to get through this?"

Hermione examined the door, guessing what she had to do.

"Like this," she said. "Open."

The command came out in a low, faint hiss, and the serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves sliding smoothly out of sight. Draco boggled at her.

"How did you—?" he demanded. "How do you know Parseltongue?"

"A gift from Magic itself to help me save the school?" Hermione responded vaguely, peering ahead. "Come on, Draco."

She led the way ahead, very slowly and very carefully, Draco following behind.

They were at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

There were shadows everywhere, and, concentrating, Hermione sent a gust of wind out to explore the chamber, searching to find what was there.

The gust blew through the chamber like radar waves, Hermione feeling it brush up against stone pillars and statues. There was nothing large and snake-like however, she could tell, and she relaxed minutely.

"Come on," she bid. "Let's get some light in here."

There were old torches mounted on the pillars. They each lit with an "Incendio," casting an ominous, glowing light throughout the chamber. As they illuminated the chamber further, a statue as high as the chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

"Is that… Is that Slytherin?" Draco whispered, awed. "It's enormous…"

It was rather grand, Hermione had to admit. The giant face above was old and wizened, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes. There was a majestic feel to the statue, one of power and certainty, and Hermione wondered if this was the legacy Slytherin had meant to leave behind – an image of himself as protector of the school, the monster concealed behind a last resort.

Hermione turned to Draco.

"This is it," she told him. "I'm going to fight the monster. I'm going to need you to hide behind a pillar, Draco, with your eyes closed, and don't look until I yell out something, okay?"

"Don't look?" Draco repeated. "Why not?"

"The monster is a basilisk," Hermione said grimly. "If you look directly into its gaze, you die."

Draco went white, swaying as if he might faint.

"You're going to fight this?" he said weakly. "Are you mad?"

"Quite probably," Hermione told him, dark humor in her tone. "Are you going to hide or not?"

Obediently, Draco went to hide behind one of the pillars on the side of the chamber's large clearing, off to the side out of the statue's gaze. Hermione watched him go before moving off to a corner of her own, off to the side of the statue.

Carefully, Hermione set her bag down, keeping it out of the water and muck. She was glad she'd taken her nice robe off – her denims were already covered in grime. She withdrew the Bulgeye potion from her bag and hesitated; she had four different things she wanted to carry, and only two hands to use.

With a distinct discomfort, Hermione sheathed her wand. Even though she knew it would be mostly useless as a weapon against a basilisk, she felt vulnerable without it in her hand. She kept the sword sheathed at her hip, figuring she could draw it later as needed. In her right hand, she held the Bulgeye Potion, and in the other, the squirming burlap sack.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she murmured to herself, taking slow, deep breaths. "You chose to do this; you decided the risk was worth it. You can't back out now."

She closed her eyes, centering her magic, before she stepped forward onto the main stone floor.

Tom Riddle had told her how to summon the basilisk; it was a trade he'd made in exchange for her agreement to help him temporarily manifest a body. Hermione moved to stand in front of the giant statue, but back a considerable distance.

She took a deep breath, readying herself.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Her words were a creepy hiss, and Hermione watched with wide eyes as the giant statue started to move.

Slytherin's mouth was opening, growing wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth, slithering up from its depths.

And Hermione daresay she knew what that slithering thing might be…

Closing her eyes and turning away, Hermione held her burlap bag firmly, ready.

There was a loud slap as something huge hit the stone floor of the chamber, and a shudder in the air. The air elemental in her was on high alert; she could almost feel the serpent uncoiling from the drifts in the air—

Adrenaline surged through her as a threatening hiss echoed in the chamber, urging her to fight or flee, but Hermione had long since decided she was going to fight.

Quickly, Hermione dumped out her burlap bag. Immediately the sound of angry clucking filled the room as roosters began scattering, furious and upset from clawing each other and being packed together for so long.

To her dismay, none of them crowed.

Hermione swore desperately as she turned toward the basilisk, her eyes closed, and she hefted the Bulgeye potion, summoning the air elemental inside of her.

"Come on!" she said, letting the air currents guide her. "Go!"

She hurled the potion bottle as hard as she could, the air elemental helping to push even further, the glass shattering upon the statue above the serpent. Immediately the air elemental spun through the air, spraying and scattering the potion everywhere in the area, aerosolizing it as best it could.

There was a furious hiss and screech of pain that Hermione found she understood somehow, while the roosters clucked and squawked in alarm. The air currents gusted the spray directly into the creature's face, pressing, and once she was confident the creature's eyes had changed shape and swollen shut, Hermione finally turned.

It was just as she'd hoped – the basilisk's eyes had swollen shut.

But the basilisk was a horror she hadn't fully realized until she'd seen.

It was enormous, and a bright, poisonous green, its body thicker than an ancient oak tree. It was spitting furiously, its tongue flickering in and out. It looked furious, its face wrenched in anger, and Hermione felt her blood chill.

"Come on!" she yelled, zapping a rooster with a stinging hex. "Cry, you stupid thing!"

The rooster shrieked and clucked, running away.

But the basilisk had heard her. Even with eyes swollen shut, it lunged toward her, and with a scream, Hermione dodged out of the way, throwing herself to the ground and rolling behind a pillar as the basilisk slammed its face into the wall behind where she had been, sending chunks of rock falling to the ground

"Hermione!" Draco cried, and Hermione belatedly realized she'd yelled out, so Draco was watching now. The basilisk, hearing new prey, quickly turned its massive heard toward Draco, sniffing.

Hermione's blood went cold.

"Do not move," Hermione hissed, but the basilisk was angry and ignored her command. She hadn't really thought it would work – it probably only listened to Riddle's commands, and she'd just been able to trigger the lock on the statue – but it had been worth a try –

"No! Come back, you stupid thing—!"

Hermione ran after the snake, yelling, trying to draw its attention back to her. But the monster had smelled Draco and wouldn't be swayed from its course –

The basilisk was moving now, quickly – it was too far away to hit with her sword, and its scales were too dense to use her wand on. Everything was going wrong, the roosters were supposed to kill the basilisk and no one was supposed to be in real danger, but now Draco –

Draco shrieked in terror, scurrying further behind his pillar, but to no avail – the basilisk could fit between the pillars. It reared back, preparing to strike. Hermione threw her hand out toward Draco as she ran, knowing she was nowhere near him, and his eyes went wide—

"NO!"

A deafening rumbling noise drowned out her scream, there was a loud BOOM and abruptly the basilisk was gone, a giant pillar in its place. Hermione skidded to a halt and looked up in shock as the growing stone pillar slammed the basilisk into the ceiling, making it cry out and screech in anger, lashing out and spitting venom around.

Draco was staring at her, his eyes wide.

"Did—Did you—?" he asked.

"I—I don't know," Hermione admitted. "…maybe?"

She reached down with her magic into her core, astonished at what she found.

Her air elemental was there, flitting around and over-active as per usual, and her core was still regenerating frantically, probably even more so now that she was coursing with adrenaline. But the earth elemental she'd absorbed, the rich, green one she'd been using to filter her unstable energy into something more stable—

It was alive.

The earth had reacted to her need to protect instinctively, converting her magic through itself and controlling a giant pillar of stone to erupt through the ground. Hermione could feel it, the pillar was still connected to her through the earth elemental, the power thrumming, and she belatedly realized it was holding it there for her still—

Hermione whipped out her wand and ran back into the center of the chamber, determined to get this done, the basilisk still writhing and hissing in fury from the ceiling.

The roosters were running around in a panic, squawking and clucking, and Hermione ran after one, zapping it again, only to have it screech angrily and still not crow.

"Damn you, you stupid things!" she swore, zapping another one which squawked angrily. "You crow every morning, so why can't you do it now?"

The meaning of what she'd just said hit her, and Hermione skidded to a halt, furious with herself and her idiocy.

"Lumos!"

Her wand erupted with a blinding light, Hermione pouring as much of her magic into the spell as she could to mimic the sunrise. Her eyes were dazzled, she couldn't see anything—

And finally, finally, there was a loud collective crowing of the surviving roosters, a welcome sound to her desperate ears.

"Kukurikuu!"

The roosters crowed out again and again, and after three of their loud caws echoed throughout the chamber, Hermione dimmed her wand, her vision swimming and gradually refocusing, white spots blinking in her sight, before she finally looked up.

The basilisk above had stopped moving. It now hung limp from the pillar, still.

Tentatively reaching for her earth magic still tethered to the pillar, Hermione pulled back on it, and the pillar started to descend.

As soon as it descended a certain amount, the corpse of the basilisk fell to the ground on the side of the center of the chamber with a loud splat, and Draco yelped a tiny shriek. Hermione went over to look while the pillar continued down without her paying attention, vaguely aware of her magic pulling it back down. Her body was shaking slightly with the aftermath of the adrenaline rush.

The basilisk was enormous up close, even more terrifying than she'd fully realized. Its body was immense and thick, and the pillar crushing it against the ceiling didn't seem to have even done much damage – she'd thought it would have at least broken some ribs (snakes had ribs, didn't they?), but it seemed all the pillar had done was get the serpent away from Draco and pin it against a stone wall.

But it was dead. It was definitely, completely dead, its murderous eyes still swollen shut.

Hermione felt her legs tremble, weak with relief.

Staggering, she made her way over to the pack she had hidden. She checked her watch, surprised to see it was only quarter 'til nine; the basilisk fight had been intense, but it hadn't taken as long as it has seemed in the moment – it had seemed to have stretched out into forever while simultaneously taking no time at all.

"Hermione…?" Draco's voice was uncertain, his pale face peeking out at her.

"I need you to look away," she told him. "I'm covered in muck and going to change."

"Can't that wait…?" Draco's voice was incredulous, but he hid his face behind the pillar once again nonetheless.

Quickly, Hermione stripped out of her black denims and shucked her top and tossed them to the floor – they were quite probably ruined, anyway. She used her top to wipe as much muck off her boots as she could, before carefully slipping into her green robe.

It felt almost surreal to be changing her clothes while her breathing was still slowing from fighting for her life.

The green silk whispered down her body, and she carefully adjusted the neckline. The neckline looked different on her, now that she wore a bra – it didn't go down as far as it used to, and it no longer required an under-robe. She strapped her sword belt and sheath to herself once more, pleased with how it subtly emphasized her waist and curves.

"Okay, Draco," she said, beginning to undo her braids. "You can look now."

Draco came over, still shaking slightly.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Is now really the time?"

"I have to," Hermione said, running her fingers through the waves of her hair before jinxing it smooth. "Draco, the reporter is going to come down here. If she wants to take photos, I have to make sure to look my best."

She undid the other braid and ran her fingers through her hair again, smoothing it and jinxing it down. She pulled out her malachite hair clip, and Draco took in a sharp breath, his eyes wide.

"Are you—?" His voice faltered. "Are you going to wear that?"

"If they do take a photo, it will be a public appearance, won't it?" Hermione said. She took the clip and clipped part of her hair back, just above her left ear. The butterfly fluttered its wings slightly but did not move. "It's appropriate to wear, then – necessary, even."

Draco looked like he'd had a religious experience, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open, dazzled.

"I never thought," he said, awed, "that you'd actually wear it out in the open. I thought it would either flutter around or not, and you'd have a pretty gift. For you to wear it like this…"

Hermione shot Draco a sharp look, but the awe and soft look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

He had sent her the butterflies.

Old resentment flared within her at his admission, anger at having something private being made public before she wanted it known, but now was not the time.

"It was given to me without a name," Hermione snapped, pulling out her makeup bag. "So wearing it doesn't count as a gesture of intent. I made it into jewelry, not the giver. It's just another pretty butterfly clip, like any girl might have."

Draco fell silent at that, watching as Hermione wiped her face with a cloth, fanned it, and withdrew a mirror. She set the mirror in the air, keeping it floating with barely a thought as she withdrew her foundation and powder, and she looked into the mirror as she began quickly doing her makeup. She had a plan, and she was determined to see it through.

"What are you doing?" Draco said. His tone was decidedly less awed and determinedly more incredulous. "Hermione, there is a deadly serpent lying dead just over there—"

"I'm trying to look my best," Hermione shot back, brushing eyeshadow into the crease of her eyes. She took out her eyeliner, being careful to keep it natural-looking but dramatic enough to notice. "We have time. Harry's not going to Professor Snape until nine, and what I need to do with you won't take more than ten minutes or so at the max."

"What you're going to do with me?" Draco repeated. "What are you going to do with me?"

Hermione was careful to finish her mascara and not put the wand in her eye before turning to look at Draco.

"Do you still trust me?" she asked, her eyes holding his.

"Yes." Draco's response was immediate. "What would you have me do?"

Hermione took a deep breath.

"I'm going to go into your mind, Draco," she told him. "I need to alter your memory of what happened tonight."

Draco's eyes went wide, astonished.

"You—you what?" he said. "Why? Are you going to take my memory? Of what happened here? Please, don't – I won't tell anyone you faked anything!"

"I need you to not question me," Hermione reminded him gently. "I promise it's for a good reason. And I won't erase your memory from you – I just need to alter certain details of what happened, okay?"

Draco bit his lip, looking anxious, before he nodded once, resolute.

"I trust you," he said firmly. "May Magic guide your way."

Hermione wasn't quite sure what that was all about, and it didn't seem like the best time to pry.

Careful to pack away her makeup kit and the rest of her adventurer's kit and stash it behind a fold in the robes of the giant statue, Hermione hit her ruined muggle clothes with an Incendio, vanishing any evidence they had ever existed. She looked around for other evidence she'd need to take care of.

Two dead roosters quickly went up in flames, victims of the basilisk's stare before the potion had taken full effect. Another one lay crushed to death under the basilisk's tail; Hermione burned that one up as well. It took some tracking down, but four others were roaming the pipes, squawking and shuddering together in alarm.

Hermione really wished she knew the stunning charm so she could just knock them out and chuck them in a bag and be done with it. As it was, her options were either to chase them down in her nice clothes and shove them in the bag, make Draco chase them down, or risk them coming back out when witnesses had arrived. Or she could try and chuck rocks at them to knock them out, she supposed.

The idea of knocking them out sparked a different idea, and Hermione aimed her wand.

"Somnium."

To her relief, the mild sleep charm worked, and she quickly bundled the sleeping roosters up in the enchanted burlap sack, tying it shut. Even if they somehow woke, the sack was enchanted to be noiseless, and hopefully no one would notice anything awry.

The roosters were stashed off in a side pipe, and Hermione approached the giant snake, evaluating as she withdrew her sword. She stabbed the eyes and punctured them through sealed eyelids just in case – she didn't want people knowing just how she'd actually avoided its deadly gaze. She noticed the giant fangs were exposed, the basilisk's mouth hanging open, its head propped up on a coil of its own body, and Hermione remembered what Silversmite had told her about her sword.

"Let's enhance this sword even more, shall we?" she mused. She ran the sword carefully along the slant of one of the fangs. "Come on, how do we make this work…"

With some extremely careful prodding of the snake's gums, Hermione finally got venom to flow from the dead creature. She let it coat her sword, some of the excess dripping off the edge, but she was incredibly pleased to see the sword absorb it with a gleam.

Hermione pulled a small vial from her robes, filling it carefully with the basilisk venom before capping it and tucking it back into her robes. She stood carefully, avoiding the small puddle of venom under the head of the beast – she had no idea if it was a neurotoxin and wouldn't hurt her skin, or if it would act like an acid and eat away at her flesh.

"What's the most heroic?" she wondered aloud, examining the creature. "Alright, then..."

The girth of the basilisk was thicker than the length of her sword for the entire length of the serpent except for its neck, where the body narrowed slightly before joining to the head. Aiming carefully and letting out a gust of air to guide her aim, Hermione swung, and the head of the basilisk was lopped off, falling a short distance to the ground with a thud. Thick blood oozed out from the cut, a dark ichor, and the dark red gleamed against the silver of her blade.

That done, Hermione approached Draco. She looked around for a dry area of ground, carefully pulling up her robes high, twisting them into a knot high up on her thighs. Draco's eyes went wide at the sight of her thighs.

"Hermione," he said, his voice hoarse. "What are you doing?"

"Being careful about the muck," she said, kneeling before him. He quickly knelt down as well, uncaring of the muck – his robes were already a hopeless mess. Her eyes met his, and she held his gaze.

"I need you to trust me for this," she said. "Completely, Draco. Do you trust me with changing your memory?"

Draco swallowed.

"I do," he said finally. "Just… go ahead and do what you need to do."

Hermione raised her wand.

"Obliviate."

She was suddenly on a thick sheet of ice, shivering violently a in cold she couldn't feel. The sky around her was a stark navy blue, and the wind whirled through the arctic landscape, chilling her to the bone. But as she looked deep into the ice, slowly, a hole formed below her, and she plunged into the water.

Swimming through water that didn't stop her from breathing, Hermione swam as deep as she could, seeing something glowing at the bottom of the lake. As she reached it, a deep feeling of warmth suffused her, and Hermione relaxed.

This was Draco's mind, she dimly realized. His agreement and consent had gotten her through his own Occlumency barrier. It was a wordless, tender feeling suffusing her, as if his subconscious itself had welcomed her arrival.

Now she just had to find the memories she needed to change. The memories were like bubbles she couldn't see but could somehow sense, thousands of tiny strings connecting one to another to another.

The first memory was his consent to help her with her plan – she gently wiped away his memory of doing anything other than agreeing to stop bullying Muggleborns because it upset her, as well as mentioning to her his father was popular with reporters. His memory of the reason he was picking fights got carefully plucked away, as did his recollection of catching roosters for her during dinner. She changed his memory of coming down the corridor to the bathroom; she left it jumbled and dark on purpose, connecting memories of the basilisk's size and scales to it, deliberately altering it in a way. Lockhart had said it was nigh impossible, but with Draco's consent, she seemed able to move about more freely in his mind, connecting and disconnecting things instead of merely popping bubbles and cutting away strings.

The memory she finished with was filled with glimpses of the hallway, a powerful snake, the feeling of constriction, and a deep, foreboding dread. She was hoping anyone who came upon it would think Draco had hit his head when the basilisk captured him and that his memory was just foggy.

The memories of the bathroom with Harry were carefully wiped away, and she changed his memory of going through the pipes and tunnels to include horror, fear, and being wrapped in a giant snake's coils, no sight of her around. When she got to the memories of the fight in the chamber, she paused, thinking very carefully about how she wanted to do this.

It was impossible to completely project a fantasy of her own into his memory bubble; even with his consent, it was his memory, not hers. It was with incredible delicacy that Hermione removed tiny strings of details – what she was wearing, the existence of the roosters – and replaced them with other strings of details of other memories – her green robes, her slicing the basilisk's head off. She left his sense of fear and of awe, and she tugged on his feeling of being saved from the monster a bit more, making it suffuse the entire memory instead of just be a small part of it.

When she finished, she felt faint as she pulled back slowly into herself, her magic pulling her back out of the land of invisible bubbles, back through the icy water, onto the arctic sheet, and back into her own body. Draco's eyes swam before her for a moment, clouded, before they refocused, wide, his mind reconnecting.

"Are you okay, Draco?" Hermione asked gently.

Draco stared up at her, his eyes wide.

"Am I okay?" he said hoarsely. "Hermione, you saved me. I should be asking if you're okay, fighting the snake like that—!"

Draco pulled her to him in a fierce embrace, hugging her closely, desperately. He was shuddering slightly, his relief physically sweeping through his body. A wave of relief at her own success swept through her as well, and Hermione closed her eyes, thanking her stars that it had worked.

After a time, Hermione gently pushed Draco away, getting to her feet and shaking out her robes. Draco sat sprawled on the floor near her, looking up at her in something akin to awe. Hermione glanced at her watch and was shocked to see it was nearly quarter after nine – had she really been in Draco's head for all that long?

Hermione moved over to the basilisk again, examining it, before running her sword through the slow, thick blood of its dismembered head again. She looked at the red gleam on the bright blade of the sword, and she heard faint footsteps echoing from the far end of the chamber.

They've arrived, Hermione thought. Here we go…

She straightened her back, set her shoulders, and turned to face the new arrivals as a hero would: a dead monster behind her, a rescued prince(ss) saved and grateful, and bright blood gleaming on her sword.