Heroes
"Harry - come on, you need to get up." Neville's tone roused Harry from what had been a quite pleasant dream involving a certain blonde Heiress and a sprawling estate nearly identical to the one that he had grown up on. Whilst Sirius had grown up in the townhouse at 12 Grimmauld Place, he had been quite insistent that Harry was not to grow up in the stuffy building for the same reasons that he himself had loathed the place. It was grungy, dark, and filled with dark remnants of the Black's family history.
Not to mention its former resident, stubbornly clinging on past her death.
Walburga Black may have died in 1985, and Harry could only remember slight fragments of memories about the woman, but some of the things he remembered her saying would have made Rita Skeeter blush. Sirius had remarked once that his mother’s rants could make paint peel from the walls, and were toxic enough to cause cancer in anyone who didn't share even remotely similar views.
She had gone to the grave cursing Sirius, and his final words to his mother had been brutally simple and utterly remorseless, even with Harry standing next to him.
"I'm glad you didn't go fast."
The woman had died the day after.
But when Sirius had gone to examine the state of the townhouse after she had died, he had been dismayed to find the portrait of the woman who had just died upon the wall, sneering down at him from the first-floor landing. It had refused to come down, and Remus had been forced to dissuade Sirius from simply ripping the wall down, which could have caused the whole building to collapse - or worse, its wards.
In the end, the two men had placed some heavy wards and runes around the portrait, which at the very least kept it silent, but would inevitably fail every so often. The painting seemed to relish in the chances it had to cause Sirius misery, and would often hold off on screaming through the weakened wards until it would be most aggravating.
Instead of living in the grungy home of the Black Family, Harry had lived his life in the country, for the most part, at the Black estate in Cornwall, which Sirius had encouraged him to use as a way to explore not only the various different types of Magic, but also to connect with it and the world in which he lived. In reality, it was more of a way for Sirius to really enjoy life in a way it seemed he had never got the chance to, what with being an Auror, and fighting in a war that had taken not only his brothers - both blood and chosen -, but also the family he was to have.
Marlene MacKinnon had died before they made it to the altar.
He had gotten better about the drinking, but it was when Sirius Black was drunk that he truly allowed the pain within to show openly - and Harry had gotten quite worried about what his Godfather might have done, had he not been there for Harry on that night in nineteen eighty-one.
The Black Madness manifested itself in many ways, and Sirius Black's was his inability to forget the weight on his shoulders.
But that was forgotten as Harry blearily awoke from his slumber, looking at his dormmate standing over him just long enough for Harry to be assuredly awake, before Neville ducked back over to his bed and began pulling on his shoes. "Neville, what's going on? What's the rush?"
"There's been another attack. Worse than the other two." Harry blinked owlishly, before he snatched his glasses from his bedside table and hurriedly began changing into his uniform, pulling on his robes even as Neville searched feverishly for his wand. It was perhaps a testament to how disorganised Neville could be that Harry managed to get ready just as the boy proudly clutched the Cherry wand with a triumphant cry, only to hurriedly cover his mouth and glance nervously to the side at their other dorm mates.
It was only then that Harry realised that all their dorm mates were sleeping still, and with a soft whisper, Harry drew his wand and softly intoned. "Tempus."
A soft fog spilled from his wand, and formed into a clock that proudly displayed just a little after four thirty in the morning, something that drew a groan from Harry and prompted him to look at Neville with frustration. "Nev - its four thirty in the morning. We can handle this later."
"No - no we can't. Professor Sprout is waiting for us in the common room." Neville's lip trembled, and Harry felt his heart sink. That could only mean one thing. It had to do with either Steph, or Daphne, and neither was something that he wanted to consider in that moment. Not the girl he had come to call perhaps his best friend - although she was fighting with Neville for that position - or the girl he had just dreamt about settling down with one day.
"W.. Which one?" Pausing before they swept out of the room, Neville gave him a pained look over his shoulder as Harry stuffed his father's cloak into one of his robes inner pockets, before they stepped out into the hall, and quickly made their way down into the common room, allowing their head of house to answer for him.
"I'm sorry Potter.. Both of them." Pomona Sprout swallowed visibly, clutching her hands together and nodding towards the exit of the Common Room. "And another girl has been taken by the monster. One of the Weasleys. A message was left above them. 'Her body will lie in the chamber forever'."
Harry almost paused in his stride, but managed to keep the momentum going, giving only a grimace as he followed the other two to the upper levels of the castle, and into the school's Hospital Wing. Ginny Weasley was seemingly one of the most persistent members of what Tracey had jokingly dubbed the 'Harry Potter Fan Club', and on multiple occasions Harry had caught her staring at him from the corners of his vision, eyes wide.
Ginny was... Not annoying, but decidedly creepy for his tastes.
But she certainly didn't deserve to be taken by whatever creature lurked within the chamber. A stern talking to from Daphne in an order to help her understand social boundaries? Perhaps. But being taken and possibly killed by whatever lurked within the Chamber? Not in the slightest.
When Professor Sprout pushed open the doors to the Hospital Wing, Harry was greeted with an eclectic collection of adults arrayed around two beds. The occupants of the beds made identifying those in question far easier. On the nearest bed lay the frozen form of Daphne Greengrass, arm outstretched as if she had been clutching something in one hand, whilst wrapping her left arm around something, her gaze bearing down upon her cupped hand with some intensity. Her eyes were widened, and her lips ever so slightly parted, creating an image of someone who had just realised their fate.
Next to her bed was the smaller form of Astoria Greengrass, with brown hair and a tired, yet clearly distressed look upon her face - she had been crying. She had probably been roused from her slumber by the man who was currently standing over the other girl upon a hospital bed. Professor Snape was currently waving his wand over the bed that had to be containing Steph, and judging by his body language and frequent pauses, he seemed somewhat... Almost confused by what he was seeing.
Beside Daphne's bed stood her parents, Cyrus and Evelyn Greengrass, and Harry felt suddenly quite uncomfortable meeting the man who had consulted with them for their little research project. Being without Daphne made him immediately aware of how... Almost lost he felt in that moment, without her guidance.
But beside Steph's beside sat only one figure he didn't recognise. A man - brown of hair, and with a somewhat tired, yet clearly kind look on his face, with glasses similar to Harry's own upon his face. He looked almost a little like James Potter, but with a longer face as opposed to the rounder visage of Harry's father. Regardless of the appearance, Harry could only imagine what he was feeling in that moment.
As Harry stepped closer to Daphne's bedside, he was acutely aware that he was attracting the attention of those at the blonde Heiress' bedside, but he didn't really care in that moment, instead reaching for her right hand and gently grasping it, despite the awkward angle. A silent promise - to figure out what went wrong and what had caused it - was uttered in the confines of his mind in that moment.
"Mr Potter." A woman's voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Harry glanced to the right, finding the brunette woman by Daphne's beside giving a weary smile to him. The woman who could only have been Daphne's mother, for they looked so similar, tilted her head just a little. "Daphne speaks quite highly of you. My name is Evelyn Greengrass, allow me to introduce my Husband, Cyrus. I believe you know my other daughter, Astoria?"
The man, Lord Cyrus Greengrass, one of the most powerful men in Britain, simply gave a slight tilt of his head, and a polite smile of his own. But when Harry turned to look at Astoria and greet the younger girl, he caught himself by surprise as he clocked on to just how similar the youngest daughter looked when compared to her mother. Evelyn, however, seemed to be prepared for such, and gave a soft chuckle. "The similarities between myself and my youngest are not lost on us, Mr Potter."
"Just Harry is fine, Mrs Greengrass. And Daphne introduced Astoria and myself at the start of the year."
"Then I regret that we meet under such circumstances." The tired smile pulled just a little bit upwards, but still remained weary and exhausted - and Harry couldn't blame her in that moment. Her gaze flicked behind him, towards the doors of the room, which swung open. "Welcome back, Headmaster, Freyja- oh, Lord Black. I trust you are here in an official capacity?"
"Official and Unofficial, Evelyn." A thin smile crossed Sirius' lips as Harry turned to face him. Next to him stood the wizened Headmaster, whose eyes no longer twinkled, but remained tiredly dull. But standing on the opposite end of the little group was the woman that Harry had seen only a few times before - that same severe woman with sharp and pale features, and that silvery blonde hair. This was Freyja Scamander, Stephanie's mother.
The sudden silence was uncomfortable for a moment before Neville broke it in perhaps the worst way possible. "-Shit.."
"Longbottom, language." Snape's drawl was equally tired, but the man clearly caught a hitch in his voice as Neville thrust something towards the Potions Master - which after a moment, Harry recognised as Steph's copy of Fantastic Beasts. Whatever was on it had stunned Snape, and so Harry's mind was immediately focused upon it.
"Neville, my boy. Perhaps you could share with us what prompted the reaction." Dumbledore's tone was pensive, almost cautious, but it was also welcoming, perhaps to try and make Neville feel more comfortable about sharing whatever it was that had prompted such a reaction. The boy did not disappoint, and set the open book on Daphne's lap, pointing towards Harry.
The first thing Harry noticed was the age of the book - he had gotten close to Steph's copy of her Grandfathers work before, but he never really realised how loved the book clearly was. It's pages were somewhat crinkled with age, but were otherwise perfectly preserved, and this particular page had a handful of scrawls upon it, some sentences crossed out and corrected above and below.
But the word stressed against the margin drew his attention first.
Plumbing.
Underneath it were two short phrases - 28.2.1993 SS, and DG 28-2-1993 - which was evocative of the two girls who lay upon the beds around which they all crowded. It was clear in that moment that whatever they had done, whatever consensus they reached before their petrification's, they both agreed, and it wasn't a coincidence of markings.
Next was the underlined phrase - 'The Basilisk flees before the crowing of the Rooster, whose cries are fatal to it.'
A sharp intake of breath came from those around the bed - and Harry glanced to the top of the page, taking in the title of the page. Basilisks.
Beneath it was a picture of a titanic serpent, stretching from the edge of the left page, across the margin, and over to the edge of the page on the right. Between the serpent's head and the edge of the right page was the figure of a person, for scale. Harry swallowed at the sight.
That was a big snake.
"Surely not Albus. A Basilisk in Hogwarts?" Evelyn sounded appalled, and Harry had to agree with her in that moment as his eyes flicked between other notations on the page - 'Kills with its gaze' was crossed out and replaced with 'kills those who meet its gaze', 'Highly potent venom' was stressed in bold, and just before the underlining Steph had done the night before, 'Spiders flee before it' was annotated in.
If Harry didn't believe this was a first edition book before, he certainly did now. This had clearly been edited by at least two generations of Scamanders, and Steph herself was making changes to it.
"The writing is Daphne's." Cyrus' voice was quiet, but firm. It spoke leagues as to the sheer presence and authority of the man that such a simple statement was an endorsement of what was present before them all. The man glanced to his wife, and seemingly had a brief, entirely silent conversation between the two of them. It lasted only for a few seconds, but a small smile graced his lips, which died swiftly, his face turning back to a neutral mask as he regarded the wizard standing behind Harry. "Headmaster. I suggest you deal with this efficiently."
There was a moment of silence, before Albus Dumbledore gave a weary sigh, speaking quietly. "Theseus. Is this a possibility?"
The man who had otherwise been silent spoke up, and it was only then that Harry learned Stephanie's Father's name. He sounded tired, but it was a deeply set exhaustion, not like the sleep deprivation that the others almost certainly had in that moment. Theseus Scamander sounded like he had been exhausted for years, and that it was part of his very being in that moment. "It’s possible. As the girls wrote, if it is a Basilisk, it has likely used the plumbing system to navigate the school. If it is being controlled by anyone, now might be the best time - or even the only chance we have to remove this weapon from their grasp."
"You cannot forget that whomever it is has taken the youngest Weasley child." Cyrus' voice was ominous, firm. "A lot can be done with a pure sacrifice, especially if it is a wizard powerful enough to command a Basilisk. Wherever the Chamber of Secrets is, it likely is protected behind Parseltongue protections. Mr Potter will have to accompany whomever goes down there, and it will have to be soon."
"I will be going down there myself, with Mister Potter, if need be. Sirius, can I assume you will join us?" The Headmaster's word drew a stern hum from his Godfather, and the raven-haired man nodded.
"We might disagree on many things, Albus, but if Harry needs to go down there, I'll go with him." Sirius looked down at Harry with a searching look, and he in-turn allowed his determination to shine through, which was seemingly enough for his Godfather. Giving Harry a reassuring smile and a nod, Sirius' joviality faded as he fixed Dumbledore with a firm look. "He's going to stay out of the fight, if it comes to it."
"I believe that would be for the best." And before Harry really clocked on to the agreement that had been made, he was being gently sheparded along by Sirius, who himself was walking behind the Headmaster.
"Where are we going, sir? We don't know the entrance to the chamber, do we?" The Wizened Headmaster gave a soft hum, but for the first time that night it sounded almost a little pleased. When he glanced over his shoulder, he had that twinkle in his eyes that had been previously absent since almost the first attack.
"Oh, I don't doubt that no one alive truly knows where it is. Therefore, we must consult the dead."
"Open."
The sinks folding back into themselves was not what Harry expected from the situation, but in a way, it almost made sense - more because of the subsequent action. For once the sinks and their masonry folded away into nothingness, a gaping hole was revealed, like a puncture wound in the brick and tile floor of the school. Harry gulped - and he could have sworn he saw Sirius match the action as the Headmaster leant over the edge and gazed down the hole through his half-moon spectacles.
"I believe there is no other way down other than to jump." Glancing back over at the duo, Albus Dumbledore made a small quirk of his beard, which was probably him giving a grin of some form. "I shall ensure that the other side is safe, then alert you."
And with that, the Headmaster of Hogwarts jumped into the pipe without a second thought.
Sirius blinked twice, then cursed under his breath. "He's a wry bastard, I'll give him that..."
And then he wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder, and followed the Headmaster's example without waiting for the promised alert.
The light faded away quickly, even before Harry finished his sudden cry of alarm at the motion. All he could tell was the sides of the tunnel were incredibly smooth, and in seemingly no time at all, they had accelerated with some speed. He knew neither how fast they were going, or how far - and even his sense of time felt a little warped, like he couldn't keep track of how long they had been hurtling through the dark for. In fact, the only constant seemed to be Sirius holding on to his shoulder.
And then as fast as it began, they were spat out into a vast underground chamber, and Harry nearly went sprawling on his face, if not for a sudden bark of a spell from his Godfather. "Arresto Momentum!"
Harry came to an immediate stop, and managed to just about get himself upright before the spell cancelled, and his feet landed on something slippery that immediately forced him to dance about to find balance. It took a moment, but Harry realised just what he was standing on - a pile of small bones, rodents, and the like, although there were certainly a few larger animal corpses visible amongst the piles, dogs and such.
But then Sirius inhaled sharply, and Harry came face to face with the Basilisk.
Or.. What was.. Left of it?
The chamber was gloomy, and it took a few seconds more to realise that the Basilisk of Slytherin was not, in fact, a corpse atop a pile of bones. Instead, it was only the snakeskin which had been shed atop the pile, but it was a good idea of just how massive the creature would be.
Yeah.. That diagram was accurate, but it didn't do the sheer scale justice.
"Intriguing... The creature sheds its skin just like a normal serpent. Perhaps there is something worth mentioning to Theseus..." The Headmaster's softly spoken admiration was almost jarring, but his expression was clearly pensive, and visibly steeled for whatever fight would come ahead. As he gently rested his hand atop the snake skin's snout, Harry realised that on the Headmaster's shoulder sat the regal Phoenix, Fawkes, who had not previously been with their little hunting party. His trills seemed to lend the Headmaster some resolve, as his words seemed just a little stressed. "Harry, Sirius. I must forewarn you, the opponent ahead of us I believe to be Lord Voldemort. I understand if you do not wish to go any further than this."
Sirius was silent for a moment, and Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Voldemort.. He was behind this? He had somehow gotten into Hogwarts?
He had no idea what was going through Sirius' head, but a single thought was his resolve. Voldemort had taken his parents, his whole life from him. He had taken the safety of Hogwarts from so many. And now he had tried to take Daphne and Steph from him. No more.
"I'm not turning back, sir." With a firm nod, Harry watched as the Headmaster seemed to deflate a little, before shifting his gaze to the Head Auror beside him.
Sirius sighed, a deep and long noise that expelled stress and pent-up pain. It was a weary noise, but a cathartic one, and his Godfather raised his wand, gently wiping it with his hand, stroking it clean of any invisible debris. "My choice stands. I will warn you, Albus, if we face that Basilisk head on, I'm not holding anything back."
"I don't expect you to. I regret to kill such a creature, but in times like this, such may be necessary." With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore transfigured a plump bird out of one of the many bones that lay upon the floor. Before it could even get a confused cluck off, a red light had stunned the creature, and it simply stayed there, limp upon the floor. "This rooster will crow once it awakens. Harry, do you have your father's cloak with you?"
"I-" Harry paused - acutely aware that he had been caught out by the Headmaster and entirely unsure of how the man had known both of the existence of the heirloom Sirius had passed down to him on his 10th birthday, or of how he knew that he even had it on him. "I do, sir."
"Then take the rooster with you and don the cloak. Remain hidden until the Basilisk is summoned forth, and keep your gaze down. The spell is Rennervate, and has no wand movements." With a nod, the Headmaster watched as Harry pulled out the invisibility cloak and draped himself in it, before picking up the stunned Rooster and making his way to the ominous door at the end of the cavern, following behind the two adult Wizards.
Before even the Headmaster could comment - Harry made himself picture the serpent in his mind again, and hissed. "Open for the Heir of Slytherin."
As the door rose, a mocking voice rang out loud from within.
"Albus Dumbledore - come to foil me once again."
Harry blinked as the two wizards in front of him drew and raised their wands in varying poses, but within a fraction of a second - Dumbledore slightly off to his side, but remaining at his hip, meanwhile Sirius' was held low, out before him. In a way, Harry supposed it spoke a lot to their styles and skills - he didn't know how Dumbledore fought, but with his age and skill, it was probably more measured and stationary. By contrast, Sirius was young and fit, and fast with his wand, focusing on swapping between defence and offence quickly, striking at opportunities.
Harry was more concerned about keeping a hold on his wand than anything.
The boy at the other end of the room, however, was holding his wand almost casually, as if the presence of two of the most powerful wizards in the world was little more than an amusing inconvenience. In fact - the chuckle he gave said that he very much thought that of them, and it only grew almost hearty at Albus Dumbledore's audibly worried utterance of his apparent name. "Tom Riddle.."
"In the flesh, Dumbledore." Raising his left arm, he tapped his rather prominent cheek bone thrice, the smack of flesh on flesh ringing out in the chamber, each tap punctuated by a word. "In. The. Flesh."
"I shudder to imagine how you have managed such a rebirth, Tom." The boy laughed loudly, and Harry gave him a brief once over as he closer with the two Adults. Dark hair and aristocratic features, he was decidedly handsome and yet made Harry feel incredibly uncomfortable - as if this boy wouldn't have to think once before killing someone. That wasn't all, it felt as if his head were a single thought from a splitting migraine, all centred entirely behind his scar.
"Ah, Albus. Thinking the best, when you know the worst." Tom tutted, shaking his head in admonishment, before he casually cast his gaze to his left. "And what do we have here - Sirius Black. Head Auror, or so I'm reliably informed. I knew your brother, Regulus. He was a good friend of mine."
Sirius gave a bark of laughter, but Harry could tell that it was one ever so slightly rattled. "Reggie had no friends, outside of Kreacher."
"Oh, but that is where you were mistaken, Black. I was good friends with Regulus, and in turn he offered me his service. Lord Voldemort always repays his debts, gives what is due." Sirius growled under his breath, even as Fawkes trilled softly, and Harry felt a calm wash over him - likely what the Phoenix was doing to keep Sirius calm.
"Reggie died hating you. He saw the error in his ways." Tom tilted his head, and shifted his stance just a little, just as Dumbledore and Sirius crossed into the main area of the room, the plinth underneath the statue. That shift seemed to be the signal to the two men that their advance any further was not welcome, and so the movement shifted into a circling motion, both sides slowly orbiting the other to find some weakness.
Just a little more..
Eyeing the prone form of Ginny Weasley, Harry swallowed as quietly as he could, carefully minding his footsteps to ensure he didn't tread upon the cloak or otherwise reveal himself. He might just be able to get Ginny out of the fight-
A throb filled his head as he began to close in on her, his headache worsening with each step - as if Ginny were a conduit for his pain, a beacon of agony.
"Ah - but did he? After all, he was sending you letters... Did he not warn you about the MacKinnon's just a little too late?"
There was a split second of silence, before the first spell flew - dark purple in colour - leaping from Sirius' wand as he slashed it upwards, the curse rocketing across the room towards the boy, only for it to be simply sidestepped. In a heartbeat, a sickly green curse flew back the way the purple one had come, rocketing past both men, and slamming into the wall. That was all it took for the fight to erupt, and in what felt like a microsecond the air was thick with magical energy as Dumbledore and Sirius drew upon their magical arsenals to hammer away at the boy.
Harry almost went to try and grab the Weasley girl - but found a bright green curse ripping through the air in front of him, humming and crackling with wicked power. Clearly it had burst from the fight, and his hurried backpedal nearly put him in the way of a red curse that bubbled and hissed as it struck the stone of the floor and began eating away at it.
Harry could barely keep up with the light show - whilst a two on one fight, Tom was having a remarkably good go against two clearly skilled duellists. He was quick on his feet, and many of the spells he simply danced around, or in a few cases, seemed to deflect elsewhere with his wand, sending them careening into the walls and floors - and even sending them right back at the caster. Harry had watched as a bolt of white-hot lightning lanced from Dumbledore's wand, only to strike Tom's shield, and be sent careening straight for Sirius.
Dumbledore, unlike his opponent, was an immovable object, ducking aside from some spells, but for the most part remaining almost entirely stationary, allowing spells to splash onto his shield, or to be absorbed by summoned objects, raising parts of the floor to take spells, only to retaliate a heartbeat later. Sirius, meanwhile, was a fast and mobile fighter, choosing to make like Tom and avoid most of the direct fire inbound, but shielding what he could not avoid. But even still, he was forced to shield many of the spells coming his way that could have been avoided regardless, and Harry didn't miss how his Godfather occasionally glanced over his shoulder in visible worry. It didn't take much to figure out why - he was worried Harry was in the line of fire.
Ripping off his cloak, Harry flung a blasting hex at Tom, more out of sheer desire to something, and bolted for the water filled canals around the edge of the platform. He had barely managed to get half the way to the small bit of cover in the otherwise entirely open arena, before a cry of delighted sadism filled the air. "Well, well! Harry Potter, Albus you shouldn't have!"
"Harry! Damnit-" The noise of a loud explosion filled the air, and Harry caught sight of his godfather tumbling away along the floor, bouncing twice before shoving himself off the ground on the third bounce, his jacket ruined and torn away, but his waistcoat and shirt still intact. Managing a landing, he jolted aside as the cry of the Killing curse came his way, missing and splashing on the wall.
"Oh Dumbledore, you've gotten weak in your old age. Had I not been so limited by my former Host; I would have beaten you long before." The Headmaster gave only a grunt of exertion in reply, before taking a handful of steps backwards, which quickly turned into a handful more as he backed away from a blazing inferno of rapidly expanding fire. It seemed to coil in on itself, rolling and shifting, before forming the shape of a serpent and lunging at the Headmaster, screeching a terrible hiss through the room.
CONSUME, CONSUME, BLAZE BURN INFERNAL ASHES
But even as the water around Harry soared upwards to form a dome over the Headmaster, with the flaming serpent bouncing off with a furious roar, visibly reeling and coiling in upon itself as it grew even more, surging to occupy an increasing portion of the left side of the room, Harry could hear a shouted hiss above everything, booming in his ears. "SPEAK TO ME, SLYTHERIN, GREATEST OF THE HOGWARTS FOUR! STRIKE DOWN THE FOES OF THE HEIR, MERETSEGER!"
I hear.. And obey, great Heir of the Master...
His heart momentarily sank as he watched the jaw of the statue of who he could only assume to be Salazar Slytherin lowered, and from its mouth escaped a long drawn-out hiss. A loud curse escaped Sirius behind him, and Harry was made abundantly aware of something in that moment. "Shit- Harry! The Rooster!"
He had dropped the rooster.
Almost as if spilling from its mouth, the scale clad form of the Basilisk poured from within Salazar Slytherin's statue, and Harry cast his gaze down firmly, only to watch in horror as, clearly, it was not only his attention had been called to the creature. With simple ease, Tom took advantage of the Headmasters preoccupied nature, and flung a blasting hex past him, and towards the stunned form of the black and white crested rooster, and turned the creature into nought more than a red smear.
Harry wouldn't exactly be proud of it, but he had picked up some colourful language from Steph - and he bit out a curse. "Fuck-"
A cackle escaped the Tom as he almost amusedly and seemingly absently flicked curses Dumbledore's way every so often, as if toying with the old man whilst he fought the flaming Serpent bashing itself against his water shield, relentlessly searching for weaknesses. "Dumbledore, please - here I thought you more intelligent than simply bringing a rooster! MERETSEGER, Strike the old man!"
"Professor, the Basilisk!" Raising his voice over the raging inferno that the Headmaster was still fighting back with the water, Harry watched as the man swung his head around, but kept his gaze low to the ground. Evidently, he saw the creature coiling to attack him, and in a single moment, Harry watched a variety of emotions flash across the elderly man's face - frustration, realisation, regret, then finally determination. The space around the old wizard twisted, then folded in on itself, as the Headmaster apparated away - and for a moment Harry thought that the man may have abandoned him.
But then there was a deafening crack! right in his ear, and Harry found himself being dragged backwards, even as Dumbledore rumbled a spell whilst gripping Harry's shoulder. Just as the Basilisk slammed bodily into the chamber wall, Dumbledore bellowed a spell. "PESTIS INCENDIUM!"
From his gnarled wand burst a screeching bird, a Phoenix made of literal fire, which surged towards the Basilisk from behind, flames crashing over the scaled monster and drawing a screech of outrage from the serpent. The roaring flames were nearly deafening, and the scalding heat turned what little water remained around them into steam, but after only a couple of seconds, the flames stopped bursting from the Headmaster's wand, just as Tom roared with a mix of surprise, fury, and open amusement. "Dumbledore! I would NEVER have guessed you had it in you!"
Grimacing deeply, the Headmaster held his wand high, at the ready, clearly caught in focus and concentration, but not to the extent that he was unable to duck backwards a step and drag Harry with him. A moment later, a sickly yellow spell splashed on the chamber wall, dripping ooze down the tiled surface and liquifying part of the structure. The elderly man raised his voice over the screeching Phoenix of flame and the outraged screeches of the Basilisk. "SIRIUS! YOURS!"
The Head Auror looked briefly torn, before swishing his wand and crying out the same incantation. From his wand burst a large dog of flames, bounding forwards, but coiling back inwards upon itself, growing larger, larger even than the Headmasters own spell, the dog surging forwards out of the flames again and again, only to be consumed by the raging inferno. It was only once he saw the Phoenix and the Dog surging forwards, rolling into the Basilisk and the serpent that Harry realised just what that incantation was.
That was Fiendfyre.
The sickening sensation of side-along apparition nearly threw him off his feet - and his dinner out of his stomach - but by the time he had enough control of his faculties to understand just where he was, Harry could hear Tom's roars of outrage - furious, but strangely triumphant. "YOU HAVEN'T WON! YOU'VE LEFT HER HERE, DUMBLEDORE! ONLY SHE DIES TODAY, LORD VOLDEMORT WILL BE REBORN AGAIN!"
The crowing of Fawkes filled the air, and Harry felt himself being consumed briefly by heat and flames, only to be suddenly deposited on the cool stone floor of Hogwarts once again. Harry took a gasping breath, and was immensely grateful for how the chill air went down his throat with pleasant bite. He stayed like that for a few minutes, and was aware of the other two men taking deep breaths of their own, be they short and sharp from Sirius, or deeper and more laboured from the Headmaster.
They were in his office - for Harry knew no other place with a balcony that overlooked the Black Lake from this angle - and the Headmaster was seated in his chair, his head hung mournfully as he stared at his desk, and the wand that lay upon it. He had no way of understanding what was going through the man's head in that moment, but a thought back to Tom's final words gave Harry momentary pause.
And then realisation.
Only she dies today.
Ginny Weasley had been left in the Chamber of Secrets.