Chapter 23

Slytherin’s Heir

“That being said; even if bravery and stupidity are one and the same, and there is much to be said for cleverness… it is usually bravery that wins out in the end.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

Despite the bravery she felt when setting off from the collapsed tunnel, the further Harriet got the more nervous she became. It was so dark she could barely see anything outside the pool of light from her wand. It reminded her of the Forbidden Forest again, only this time she didn’t have Kieran, or Fang, or even Malfoy to keep her company. Everything looked as though it was moving out of the corner of her eye. However, she met nothing as she went on; even the bones on the floor had ended.

She gave a little shriek of surprise and clamped her eyes shut as she stepped around a corner. She was sure she had seen not one but two giant snakes rising up before her, ready to strike. However, she heard no spitting, nor hissing, nor the sliding of their massive bodies racing towards her.

Slowly, she opened her eyes once more. There were indeed two giant snakes looming up in the tunnel ahead of her, but they were only carvings on a giant door that blocked the tunnel. Their eyes were set with enormous emeralds that flickered in the wand-light. Even though she now knew they were stone, Harriet could not help but feel they were alive and watching her.

Once more, as if by instinct, Harriet knew what had to be done. She stared into the eyes of the snakes and spoke as commandingly as she could. “Open.”

Harriet took a step back as the doors shuddered to life. The snakes parted from each other, and the doors slid apart. She closed her eyes, took three deep breaths, and started forward. She had finally arrived.

Harriet gaped as she looked around. The cavern she had entered was immense. The walls were lined with stone pillars that stretched so high Harriet could not see the tops of them in the darkness. More carved snakes wound up the pillars, all set with the same glinting, emerald eyes as the snakes that had guarded the door. As she moved, Harriet could have sworn she saw one or two of them move.

Every step felt like an eternity as she made her way deeper into the chamber. She kept expecting the basilisk to leap out at her from behind every pillar and out of every shadow. She kept her eyes narrowed to mere slits, ready to slam them shut at a moment’s notice. However, Harriet was starting to wonder just what that plan was going to accomplish. Scott said that basilisks also had venomous fangs, and given the size of the skin she saw back in the tunnel, this basilisk could most likely swallow her in a single bite without needing to use them.

Finally, Harriet did see something move, but it wasn’t a snake. At the very end of the chamber, between two vast, flat-based pillars, something stirred, but it was not a snake. It was a small figure with brilliantly red hair, wearing a black robe and a grey uniform.

“Ginny!” Harriet cried out.

Ginny looked up at Harriet and groaned, shaking her head. Her face was chalk-white, as though she had been drained of blood. Harriet ran towards her, hardly able to believe the evidence before her. Ginny was still alive.

“H-H-Harriet,” Ginny stammered as Harriet reached her. Her voice was dry and cracked and broke several times. She was crying.

Harriet knelt and took Ginny in her arms. As she did, Harriet saw Riddle’s diary lying next to her. Anger burned inside her as she looked at it. She was met with the strong desire to rip it in half.

“Harriet,” Ginny said, her voice barely a croak, “…get out of here…”

“Not without you,” Harriet said. She tried to lift Ginny to her feet, but apparently Ginny had no strength left.

“It’s Riddle…” Ginny muttered. “It’s him, Harriet… tried to tell you…”

“I know, Ginny, I know,” Harriet said impatiently as she tried to get one of Ginny’s arms over her shoulder.

“You do, do you?” asked a boy’s voice from somewhere nearby. “Well, I suppose you were bound to find out sooner or later.”

Harriet didn’t need to turn to see who the voice belonged to. She knew the moment she heard him speak. It was the voice from the memory in the diary; it was the voice from her dreams and the voice from her nightmares. It was the voice of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Harriet turned, and in spite of herself, she gaped in shock. Riddle was leaning against one of the pillars, smirking down at her.

“You!” was all Harriet could think to say, but she tried to put every bit of anger and malice into it that she could.

Riddle simply smiled brighter. “Oh dear, this isn’t how I envisioned our first meeting would go at all,” he said casually.

Harriet squinted a little. Riddle looked as though he was out of focus. His edges were blurred. Even his features were difficult to make out. However, Harriet was sure her eyes were not playing tricks on her.

“He came from the diary,” Ginny muttered, her head lolling.

Riddle laughed. It was a high, cold laugh that sent shivers down Harriet’s spine. It didn’t seem to belong to him; it was an evil, sinister thing.

“Yes, little Ginny… yes, I did… thanks to you and our dear Miss Potter here,” Riddle said smirking.

“What do you mean?” Harriet asked.

Riddle’s grin widened. “Shouldn’t that be obvious by now, Harriet? It was you and Ginny, pouring out your secrets, your hearts and souls, that made me stronger. Much stronger than even I would have guessed as I lay dormant these past fifty years.”

Harriet felt her eyebrows knot even tighter. Riddle’s grin did not falter. “You used her… It was you; you made her attack everyone, didn’t you?” Harriet accused. “And you framed Hagrid all those years ago!”

Ginny sniffed and sobbed again.

“Oh yes,” Riddle said. “To this day even I am amazed at how well framing Hagrid worked. I was sure someone would figure it out, but no, no one ever stopped to question it. I thought surely someone would realise that acromantula do not petrify their victims, or that a fool like Hagrid would never have the brains or the power to open the Chamber. It took me five years to find it. But alas for the prejudices of humanity; so convenient, aren’t they?”

“What do you mean?” Harriet asked.

Riddle laughed. “Oh come now, Harriet. You can’t tell me you’re that thick? It was my word against Hagrid’s… Who was going to believe him over me?”

“Me,” Harriet hissed angrily. “And Dumbledore.”

Riddle’s grin faltered. “True. Dumbledore never did seem to trust me as much as the other teachers, and he did persuade that old fool Dippet that Hagrid hadn’t meant to do it and to keep him on as game-keeper rather than turning him over to the Ministry to be sent to Azkaban. Though that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Riddle’s smile returned, and he turned his eyes on Ginny. “As for little Miss Ginny, she found me months and months ago, and she’s been writing to me ever since. Every pitiful little secret and worry in her little mind. How ashamed she was to have to wear second-hand robes, and use second-hand books, and how proud she was to have spent a summer with the good and the great Harriet Potter.”

Riddle turned malicious eyes on Ginny. “She fed so much into me she made me even more powerful than herself; far more powerful. So powerful I was able to begin feeding some of my soul back into her. It was much more interesting than listening to her complaining and moaning all the time. I was able to speak Parseltongue through her. I was able to command my pet once more; just as I had fifty years ago and just as I had planned when I made the diary. I was able to use her to paint the message on the wall and to slaughter that great oaf Hagrid’s roosters…”

Harriet felt her muscles tighten. Ginny gave out a pathetic little sob.

“Now, now… don’t give me that little Ginny. You simply loved your dear diary, didn’t you? Even if it was probably the most boring experience of my life, and I spent fifty years hidden away from everyone,” Riddle taunted and laughed. Ginny sobbed harder.

“But I was so kind wasn’t I? Wasn’t I sympathetic? Wasn’t I always there for you? Didn’t you always tell me how no one had ever understood you as I do? In fact, I believe you called me a ‘friend you can carry around in your pocket’?”

“Leave her alone!” Harriet barked. “You’ve done enough to her!”

Riddle laughed wickedly again. “Oh no, Harriet, I’m not quite done with her yet. You see, the longer we’re here talking, the stronger I get and the weaker she becomes. See, I’ve become more solid in just the last few minutes.”

Harriet looked at the rest of Riddle again and saw that he was right. His edges did seem to be harder than they were before. Ginny, on the other hand, felt weaker in Harriet’s arms.

“What are you doing to her?” Harriet asked.

“Why, I’m stealing her life of course. Granted I won’t be able to steal all of it before I am whole again,” Riddle explained.

Harriet blinked, perplexed.

“Ginny has you to thank for that, Harriet. You put a great deal of life into me as well for the mere month that I was in your possession after Miss Ginny finally got suspicious of me,” Riddle explained before he turned disdainful eyes on Ginny.

“See, stupid little Ginny didn’t know what she was doing, nor did she remember. But I suppose she was eventually smart enough to put it all together and attempted to dispose of me. Fire, Ginny…? Honestly, did you think it would be that easy to get rid of me? But no matter, there won’t be much life left in her when I’m done.”

“And you were just going to kill her anyway?” Harriet asked, her fists clenching.

“But of course!” Riddle said as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t leave a witness to my return. Besides, my poor pet has been so hungry for so long. You heard him whining as he made his way around the school. I know… that was another little secret Ginny told me.”

Harriet’s breathing was getting out of control as her rage began to bubble over once more. Riddle’s eyes glinted with interest as they roved over her face. “A Parselmouth… just like me… it’s fascinating…”

“And so you’re going to kill me too,” Harriet said glaring, ignoring Riddle’s words.

This time Riddle did not respond right away. He merely continued to study her face with great care. “That depends, I think…” Riddle replied.

“On what?”

“On you, of course.”

“On me?”

“Yes, Harriet. I’ve seen the darkest areas of your mind. I’ve seen your dreams… Oh yes… You were quite right; those were not natural dreams you were having at all. I saw the way you looked at my face when you entered my memory… I saw the desire in your eyes… I felt the longing in your heart.”

Harriet felt her anger being replaced with fear. So Riddle had been invading her dreams. She felt her throat clench and tried to swallow but failed. She felt dirty somehow, from more than just the muck on her clothes.

Riddle laughed again. “Oh yes, Harriet, I don’t need a body to be powerful. Your dreams and thoughts are my playthings. How many times I wandered into your dreams… I just watched at first. I was intrigued, you see? You have such strength that I cannot deny… but it conflicts so strongly with your innermost desires and fantasies…”

Harriet felt herself tremble. Ginny felt weaker still as she tried to hang on. Harriet held her tighter.

“And so I decided to start playing with your dreams. I experimented. I discovered powers even I didn’t know I had… I had never met someone as interesting as you to play with. Unfortunately for me, little Miss Ginny stole me back from you before I could get a full grip on you, as I had on her. I was so angry when the next time my diary was opened it was Ginny writing to me, and not you. And so I decided to punish both of you.”

“So you made her attack Kenley…” Harriet growled, her courage starting to come back.

“Of course,” Riddle said with a laugh. “Ginny had told me how she and her sister were helping you with your little investigation. However, I thought her nosy little sister would be too close to Ginny and would bring suspicion, and so her loner elder sister made the perfect target. That and even if I could have cared less about attacking Muggle-borns at that point, it did feel good to take a little break and re-purify my ancestor’s noble house.”

Riddle’s smirk returned. Harriet glared.

“So if you punished me then, why did you go after Hermione? And why did you stop attacking Muggle-borns?”

Riddle’s eyes glinted. “Why… I was trying to get you back.”

“Get me back?”

“Oh yes,” Riddle said. He finally stood up and started walking towards her. “I couldn’t stand working through stupid little Ginny anymore. I wanted to learn more about you. From all Ginny told me, and from what I learned by our writing sessions, I knew nothing would stop you from learning the truth about Slytherin’s Heir. And particularly, I knew you would be even more determined were a friend of yours to be attacked.”

Riddle suddenly looked annoyed. “I failed, however, the other night when I had Ginny send my basilisk against your pathetic blood-traitor friend McIntyre… my pet would have succeeded had he simply been stupid enough, or brave enough, to open his eyes…”

Harriet thought hard about that hallway. An even more horrible sensation gripped Harriet’s insides.

“But… there was nothing there for him to see the reflection… that means—”

Riddle laughed again, cutting her off. “That I was trying to kill him, of course! Ginny overheard him asking to borrow your cloak to see your little Mud-blood friend… But like I said… his cowardice saved him…”

“But why Scott? You were going to kill him just because he was my friend?”

Riddle chuckled darkly. “Well, partly… I admit the McIntyre’s are among the worst of blood-traitors… so snuffing out some of their line did make me feel good. Or it would have. I did at least get to enter your dreams once more. To tell you how safe you would be with me… how I could give you everything, you wanted… to make sure you never lost anything, ever again…”

Once more, chills spread down Harriet’s spine as Riddle grinned down at her. He was standing right in front of her. Harriet was doing her best to keep Ginny supported and position herself between Ginny and Riddle.

“Oh yes… I know about all of your little desires, Harriet… Ginny was standing right outside the door to the Ravenclaw common room with me in her arms,” Riddle went on.

Harriet shivered again. Ginny’s head lolled and her eyes closed. Harriet shook her, trying to wake her again, but all Ginny did was emit a low moan. Her strength draining, Harriet slowly lowered Ginny to the ground.

“I have some questions for you now, Harriet,” Riddle said.

“Like what?” Harriet snapped, not bothering to look back up at Riddle as she lay Ginny down as gently as she could.

“Well, how, for instance, did you manage to defeat Lord Voldemort, twice now at last count?”

Harriet blinked. That was the last question she had expected. “Why do you want to know that? Didn’t Voldemort come after… after…”

Harriet’s voice trailed off. More dawning comprehension was washing over her. She remembered the red eyes from the nightmare and the flash of green light. She also remembered all the nightmares she had experienced the year before. They had all featured those same burning red eyes and those green flashes of light.

“Got there at last, have you?” Riddle asked. “Yes… I hadn’t planned on that… your subconscious seems to have an excellent memory, and very good intuition. I tried to give you your deepest fantasies, and yet you fought me every step of the way. Scenarios where you had given yourself over so freely to others… yet I was always denied…”

“You became Lord Voldemort?” Harriet asked, wide-eyed.

Riddle’s dark grin returned. “Became? On the contrary, my dear Harriet …”

Riddle turned and produced a wand. As Harriet watched, she suddenly paused. “Hey, that’s my wand!” she said and reached down into her pocket. Sure enough, her wand was no longer there.

“I know,” Riddle smirked. Before Harriet could say anything more, Riddle started to draw in mid-air with the tip of her wand. As he drew, golden letters appeared, spelling out the name:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Riddle gave the wand a wave, and the words began to rearrange themselves. They finally stopped, and Harriet read the words:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

Riddle turned back to her. Harriet felt frozen in place.

“I was already calling myself Lord Voldemort by the time I made my diary, Harriet. It was a name I used amongst my most faithful followers only, of course. I was never going to keep my filthy father’s common Muggle name… Not me… not I…”

Riddle’s face turned into a grimace and his fists clenched. “I?! I, who am directly descended from the great Salazar Slytherin, himself!? Me, keep the name of a common, pathetic Muggle who abandoned my mother the moment he found out she was a witch?! Before I was even born?!”

Riddle was trembling with rage, talking through gritted teeth. “No, Harriet, not I… I made myself a new name… a powerful name… a name I knew would one day strike fear into the hearts of witches and wizards everywhere! That would help me become the greatest sorcerer of all time!”

“You’re not,” Harriet said without hesitation. She didn’t know what made her say it.

“What?” Riddle asked. He looked taken aback, almost as though Harriet had slapped him.

“You’re not the greatest sorcerer of all time!” Harriet replied. Her heart was racing, but she was feeling a sense of calm again now that Riddle was wrong-footed. “That’s already been taken… the greatest sorcerer of all time is the only wizard you’ve ever been scared of, isn’t it? No… if you ask me… the greatest wizard of all time is Albus Dumbledore!”

Riddle’s face contorted with rage. “Dumbledore was driven from this school by my mere memory in a book!” he snarled.

“Oh no he’s not,” Harriet said. She still didn’t know where her courage was coming from. It was almost as if just thinking of Dumbledore was injecting it into her. “Dumbledore will only have left when there’s no one here loyal to him… and well, I am… and I don’t care if I’m the only one!”

Riddle snarled and was about to retort when he paused, looking around curiously. Harriet listened and then she heard it too. It sounded like music. Harriet and Riddle both turned, looking down the chamber. The more Harriet listened, the more it sounded like no instrument she had ever heard. And yet, it gave her a feeling very similar to the one she got whenever she heard the invisible violin.

However, as it got louder, Harriet found this was a very different song. This was so much stronger. Harriet felt her heart swelling, and her skin tingled as though charged with static. It reverberated through the floor and the walls and her very bones.

As Harriet and Riddle watched, a light appeared at the end of the chamber, growing brighter by the second. It looked as though a fireball was approaching them. But as it got closer, Harriet realised it was not a fireball; it was a bird. The most amazing, beautiful bird she had ever seen.

It was bright crimson and glowed with a fiery light. It had a tail of shimmering golden feathers as long as a peacock’s, and gleaming golden feet and talons with a curved, golden beak. The bird flew straight at Harriet, but she was not afraid of it. The song it sang as it flew towards her filled her with such hope.

The bird landed in front of her, and as it did it dropped an old, brown sack at Harriet’s knees that she hadn’t noticed it carrying before. As Harriet looked down at it, she realised it wasn’t a sack. It was the ancient, ragged, Hogwarts’ Sorting Hat.

“A phoenix…?” Riddle asked, staring in amazement.

Harriet blinked looking back at the bird. It was so large it looked her straight in the face.

“Fawkes…?” Harriet asked breathlessly.

The bird merely chirped and blinked once, and even this chirp was lyrical and warmed Harriet’s heart.

“And the old Sorting Hat?” Riddle muttered. “This is what sticking up for Dumbledore got you, Harriet? An overgrown canary and a pile of rags? Don’t you see, Harriet? I can give you so much more than that…”

Riddle’s smirk came back. “I can give you all that I offered in the dream. I was once all-powerful until I met you… how did you live while I lost my powers? But no longer… I am almost fully restored, and if we cannot truly defeat each other… why don’t we work together…?”

Harriet blinked. “Work together?”

“Yes,” Riddle replied. “We could fashion you a new name too… the Dark Lord and the Dark Lady… the two greatest wizards of all time…”

Harriet felt her anger rising. How dare he? How dare he kill her parents in an attempt to kill her, and then turn around and ask her to join him? How dare he ask her to stand with him when he was only standing there by draining the life from one of her friends?

Before Harriet could speak, Riddle was no longer in front of her. She gasped as arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her tight.

“Come now, Harriet, didn’t you like your dreams? I had tailored them just for you; your favourite scenarios, caught while snooping around… bound and helpless… a face you find so desirable grinning down at you…”

Harriet felt herself trembling. Whether it was from rage, or from fear, she couldn’t tell. She saw Riddle raise a hand slowly, approaching her face. She grunted and struggled in his grasp as it came nearer.

Against her will, Riddle’s hand brushed her cheek in the same spot it had in her nightmare. However, something very different happened in real life. Instead of feeling his hand, Harriet’s scar burned, and she screamed in pain. However, her scream was not the only one. Riddle was also crying out in pain, and he let go of her.

The pain abated almost at once, and Harriet turned around, looking at Riddle. He was staggering backwards, staring at his hand. Even though he was still blurred, Harriet could see the skin on his hand where he had touched her had turned red and blistered, just as Quirrell’s had the year before.

Riddle gasped looking at Harriet, shock and fear registering on his face for the first time. “What are you…?” He asked, trying to catch his breath.

The pain was gone, and with Riddle no longer holding on to her, Harriet felt her courage return. She took a deep breath. “I’m a girl, my name’s Harriet Potter, and I’ll never join you,” Harriet said with an air of finality. “And it wasn’t me who stopped you; it was my mother.”

Riddle again looked dumbstruck.

“Yes, my mother, I don’t know how it stopped your powers, but it stopped you from killing me. My mother did it, my filthy common Muggle-born mother, when she died to save me,” Harriet paused and took a breath. “And I’ve seen what you’ve become… you’re still out there somewhere, but you’re foul, powerless, and hideous, hiding all alone.”

Riddle snarled before forcing his face into a cruel leer.

“So… that’s it, is it? Your mother died to save you? Yes… that is a powerful counter-curse… perhaps the most powerful… And so finally I learn the truth… there is nothing special about you after all.”

To Harriet’s surprise, Riddle’s leer faded. His whole aspect fell. He no longer looked angry, merely disappointed.

“Well, that’s disappointing…” Riddle said. “I’d hoped for so much more. We just had so much in common… both half-bloods… both orphans…”

“I’m only an orphan because of you!” Harriet shouted.

Riddle laughed. “I’m an orphan because of me too, Harriet. I killed my father, you see… just like I killed yours, the very summer I finally learned who he was, and what he had done. And I suppose, one could say I killed my mother as well, as she died giving birth to me.”

Harriet felt a chill run down her spine. Riddle had a manic grin on his face. “And not just them. I killed my dirty Muggle grandparents as well. I had to wipe out the line permanently; to cut all my ties to them. I knew only then could I truly ascend to my proper place of glory. The following school year, I put my plan into action and released my monster for the first time.”

Harriet was breathing fast. So he was already a murderer by the first time Harriet had ever laid eyes on him? Not once, with Moaning Myrtle, or even twice with his father, but four times? Harriet felt even more unclean.

“But all that aside, we even share being Parselmouths. And besides being a girl, we even look somewhat similar. I was so fascinated, but if it was just chance?” Riddle sighed. “I’m afraid I have no real use for you anymore, Harriet Potter. And so, let us see… If I cannot touch you myself and snuff out your pitiful life, let us test the powers of Salazar Slytherin against the best that Dumbledore could send you… I’m sure my dear pet would not mind two mouthfuls tonight.”

Riddle sneered at Fawkes and the Sorting Hat and turned. He tilted his head back, looking upwards. Harriet followed his gaze and gasped. What she had taken for more pillars were legs. The legs of the most giant statue Harriet had ever seen. It was a tall, hunched man, with an ancient face and a long, thin beard that was even longer than Professor Dumbledore’s.

“Speak to me, Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”

Harriet gaped as the mouth of the statue began to open. Harriet felt her dread increasing once more as she gazed up into the open maw. As the rumble of the opening mouth ceased, Harriet finally heard it: a terrifying, rasping hissing. But what was worse, was she could understand it. It was that same disembodied voice she had heard three times now.

“So hungry… I smell blood, master… may I eat?” the voice asked.

Harriet could see something moving now in the statue’s open mouth. She scrambled to her feet, backing up quickly. She backed into one of the pillars and clamped her eyes shut.

“You may, my pet…” Riddle said, still speaking Parseltongue. “The one by the pillar first, if you please?”

Harriet trembled. She heard a loud thud and felt the ground shake as the body of the giant serpent hit the floor. She listened to the flapping sound of Fawkes’ wings and the clack of his nails as he took flight. So even Fawkes was abandoning her, Harriet thought. What could a bird like that do against such a snake anyway?

“Soooooo hungry…” the basilisk hissed as it slithered towards Harriet. “Stay still little morsel… I’m coming for—AHH!”

Harriet heard the giant snake give out a scream of pain. Riddle was crying out too in rage.

“My eyes! Get away! Stop! My eyes!” Harriet heard the snake cry out.

There was a scratching and grinding noise, with loud thuds coming from some of the pillars around her. Harriet tried to slide around the pillar to run, but something hard caught her on the side and sent her rolling across the floor.

Something wet splashed across her face and shoulders. Without meaning to, Harriet’s eyes opened. The first thing she saw was the basilisk. It was bright green with a soft-white belly. Its body was as thick as Harriet was tall, and its head was raised high in the air, swaying and lashing about, knocking into pillars. There was a blast of light, and Harriet realised what was happening.

Fawkes was attacking the basilisk’s face. As Harriet watched, unable to close her eyes now, the snake’s head turned, and she found herself looking straight into its eyes. However, instead of bright yellow orbs that killed her on the spot, there were ragged mounds of torn, bleeding flesh. Fawkes had pecked out the basilisk’s eyes.

“LEAVE IT! LEAVE THE BIRD!!” Riddle screamed. “THE GIRL! KILL THE GIRL! SMELL HER OUT!”

Fawkes changed tactics now, diving at the writhing snake’s mouth. The snake hissed and snapped, still too distracted by Fawkes’ onslaught to go after Harriet. It was then that Harriet saw it beside Ginny. The Sorting Hat.

It seemed Fawkes had come for a reason, now that he was defending Harriet. Fawkes must have brought the hat for a reason. And there was only one thing to do with a hat.

Harriet pushed herself to her feet and ran towards the hat. The basilisk’s tail lashed as it tried to fight off Fawkes but Harriet saw it coming this time and ducked. She slid across the floor and grabbed the hat. She stayed lying flat on the ground and forced the hat down on her head.

Help me, Harriet thought as hard as she could, please, I need help!

Whang. Something hard and heavy dropped onto Harriet’s head. She saw stars and fell over on her back. Above her head, she heard a loud, metallic clanging. Her eyes drifting in and out of focus, Harriet turned and gazed at the source of the sound. There was a sword, nearly as long as her whole body, lying there with the hat perched high upon its tip. The blade was shimmering silver and flawless, while in its handle large rubies the size of chicken eggs glimmered.

Harriet’s jaw fell open, and she sat up, grasping the handle.  It was surprisingly light, despite its size, and she was easily able to lift it as she got to her feet. There was a flash of light, and a bang as Riddle shot a jinx at Fawkes, who finally fluttered away.

“THE GIRL! SHE’S THERE IN FRONT OF YOU! KILL HER!” Riddle cried.

As Harriet watched and brandished the sword, the snake finally turned its giant, sight-less head towards her. Its long, forked tongue flicked once; then it opened its mouth and struck.

Ready for it, Harriet jinked to the right and slashed with all her might. The basilisk screamed, and more blood splattered Harriet’s face as she sliced open the side of the snake’s neck. It flailed and paused just long enough to locate Harriet by her scent once more.

Harriet had slipped on the wet floor and lost her footing. She wasn’t able to dive out of the way as the snake lunged again. All Harriet had time to do was raise the sword and point it right at the basilisk’s oncoming mouth. The sword passed directly between the snake’s massive fangs and pierced the back of its throat. More blood flowed over Harriet, and she grunted as the snake’s great head knocked her back and landed on her legs.

Harriet could feel the basilisk’s body convulsing and twitching. The sword had pierced its brain, killing it instantly. Harriet tried to push, but the head was too heavy for her. She looked to her right and left. The snake’s great fangs had buried themselves in the stone floor on either side of her. Had Harriet been only a foot or so to the left or right, she would have been pierced by them.

Harriet wriggled, and finally, the snake twitched enough she was able to slide out from under it, drawing the sword with her. She backed up quickly, afraid it would somehow spring back to life. She kept pointing the sword at the beast when finally it gave one massive shake, twitched, and moved no more.

“You…”

Harriet turned. Riddle was standing there, only yards away from her. His face was red with rage. He pointed Harriet’s wand at her. “Why can’t I kill you?!” Riddle cried out, starting towards her. Harriet raised her sword again and held her ground.

“I can’t touch your skin, and I can’t kill you with a curse!” Riddle shouted, veins pulsing in his forehead and neck. His rage turned into a manic grin again. “But I can touch your clothes… Come here, Potter! Let me just grab your cloak and bash your brains out against a pillar. It will probably be quick if you don’t strug—”

Riddle was cut off when Fawkes dove past him. The bird swept past Ginny’s unconscious form and retook flight. As they both watched, Fawkes turned and plunged straight at Harriet. Riddle ducked and fired another jinx at the oncoming bird, but Fawkes dodged it easily and flew past Harriet. As he did, something hard hit Harriet in the chest and fell to the floor.

Both Harriet and Riddle looked down at the object. It was Riddle’s diary. The two slowly looked up at each other, and almost automatically, Harriet raised the sword high above her head. Riddle’s eyes went wide with panic, and he raised a hand out to her. His mouth fell open in a scream that Harriet could not hear over the pounding of her blood in her ears. With all her might, she drove the point of the sword straight downwards, right into the centre of the diary.

Now Harriet heard a scream. But it did not seem to be coming from Riddle. It seemed to be coming from the diary itself. It shook the walls, and Harriet’s whole body as Fawkes’ song had done. Ink spurted from the diary as if it were blood, spilling over the floor and her feet.

Harriet looked up at Riddle. He was writhing, clutching his chest, his face twisted with pain. He looked into her eyes one more time. They were wide with terror. And then, in a puff of smoke, he vanished.

Harriet panted heavily. It was over; it was finally over. Riddle was gone. The basilisk was dead.

There was a quiet groan, and Harriet looked past where Riddle had been standing. Ginny was moving again. Harriet’s legs felt heavy, but she started to make her way over to the feebly stirring form.

“Ginny…?” Harriet said. Her voice cracked, and she used the sword as a makeshift cane.

“Harriet…?” Ginny mumbled.

“Yeah… it’s me, Ginny… we won…”

Ginny stared at Harriet, a look of horror on her face. Harriet looked down and realised why. She was completely soaked in blood.

Ginny looked back up at Harriet’s face, and tears began to flow from her eyes. “Oh, Harriet… I… I tried to tell you all at breakfast… but I couldn’t say it in front of Percy…”

“I know Ginny…” Harriet said. She knelt and picked up the Sorting Hat.

“How… how did you kill… and where did you get the sword…?” Ginny asked in amazement.

“I… I don’t know where to start,” Harriet said. She was starting to feel very tired.

Fawkes landed between Harriet and Ginny. He warbled a soft song, and Harriet felt the same warmth flow through her.

“You were brilliant, Fawkes…” Harriet said. She reached out, and to her surprise, Fawkes quietly cooed and closed his bright eyes as Harriet stroked the soft feathers of his neck. Harriet guessed that Fawkes had decided she was worthy of touching him after all.

“Wh-where did the bird come from?” Ginny asked.

“He’s Dumbledore’s phoenix, Fawkes…” Harriet said smiling. “You were so brave… how did you do that without being killed…?”

“Do what?” Ginny asked.

“He stabbed out the basilisk’s eyes so I could see without being killed,” Harriet explained.

As she looked at the phoenix, she noticed something odd. It looked as though the bird was crying. Then Harriet remembered. Just before the Christmas holidays, Professor Dumbledore had told her about phoenixes. “Their tears also have remarkable healing powers, able to cure any poison and heal any wound.”

In spite of herself, Harriet laughed. “You clouded your eyes with your tears, didn’t you…? Clever bird…”

Fawkes warbled again and shook his head. Something wet landed on Harriet’s tongue. Almost at once, Harriet felt her strength returning. By the looks of it, Ginny was getting her colour back and her strength. She looked at Fawkes and saw his tears were gone. She felt a little strange having just drank a phoenix tear, but the effect it was having on her fatigued body was most welcome.

However, Ginny’s face fell, and she dissolved into tears once more. “I’m going to be expelled!” Ginny wailed and collapsed into Harriet’s arms. “I’ve been looking forward to coming to Hogwarts since Bill was here! Now I’ll have to leave! What about Mom and Dad?! What are they going to say!?”

Ginny gripped the front of Harriet’s robes and looked up at her, her expression stricken with fear. “What if they send me to Azkaban!? Don’t let them send me to Azkaban!” Ginny cried more gripping Harriet hard.

“It’s okay, Ginny, it’s all going to be okay,” Harriet said as she helped Ginny to her feet.

Slowly, the two made their way past the fallen basilisk’s body. Harriet paused where Riddle had disappeared and picked up her wand. Harriet didn’t know why, but she also picked up the ink-soaked remains of Riddle’s diary. While she felt nothing but disgust for the object, something was telling her it was still significant.

The two girls followed Fawkes who had retaken flight, leading the way out of the Chamber. As they left, Harriet heard the doors slide closed behind her, but she did not look back. Riddle was gone, the basilisk was dead. There was no need to look back.

They rounded the corner. There was a blast of light and an outbreak of noise that made Harriet jump in shock and brandish the sword once more.

“Put that away, Potter!” snarled the angry voice of Professor Snape.

“It’s alright, Harriet… it’s over now… you can put it down,” said another voice, much closer, kinder, and deeper; brimming with pride.

Harriet took in the scene before her. The passage had been cleared away, and light was pouring in from magical lamps and at least a dozen lit-wands. She could see silhouette’s now of people coming towards her through the light. Finally, one of the figures came close enough that Harriet could see who it was. It was a tall, very old man, with a long, white beard. He was wearing deep purple robes and had half-moon spectacles set on a very crooked nose. His eyes were a piercing blue. Albus Dumbledore had returned.