Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Noooo!!!” Harry bellowed in horror, as he finally saw Hermione’s body, laying frozen in the bed in the hospital wing, looking cold and almost lifeless. He had hurried to the hospital wing as soon as McGonagall had told him, with Ron struggling to keep up. Madam Pomfrey watched him solemnly for a moment, before retreating back to her office so as to let Harry grieve alone, shutting the door quietly.

Ron scratched the back of his head, looking very confused for some reason, and asked, “Coooooooool?”

Harry slapped him hard on the back of the head, “Have some respect for her!”

“I’m sorry,” Ron muttered, shuffling his feet a bit, “It’s just I desperately need to go defecate; I haven’t emptied my rectum since yesterday.”

“Go and do that then,” Harry snapped at him, and Ron scampered off, emitting an audible fart as he rounded the corner.

Harry sat down by Hermione’s bed, gazing at her sadly, wondering if she would ever wake up. Even if she never woke up, he vowed to keep her around. Of course, she would wake up, as soon as the mandrakes were fully grown, but that didn’t stop doubts filling Harry’s mind as he watched her poor frozen body, tears threatening to fill his eyes.

Just then, as his gaze moved along her, he saw her hand was clenched around a piece of paper. Intrigued, Harry adeptly slipped it out from between her fingers, managing to extract it without tearing it somehow, and saw that written on it where four words: basilisk, pipes, toilet, and broken.

As Harry was in fact quite intelligent, rather unlike Ron, he quickly managed to put all the dots together, and jumped up from his seat with a sense of urgency.

“I’ll see you later Hermione,” he whispered, gently leaning close to her ear, even though he didn’t know if she could hear him, “Thank you for the clue.”

With those final words to her, Harry determinedly ran off out of the hospital wing before Madam Pomfrey could notice, and off to find the nearest toilet, which is where he assumed Ron would be. Unfortunately, he bumped into someone he absolutely didn’t want to at the moment, a teacher, and not just any teacher…

“Harry my boy!” Gilderoy Lockhart exclaimed as he walked right into Harry, “I was just going to check on your friend, what’s she called… Hermione, to see if she needed anything.”

Catching the suspect phrasing of Lockhart’s remark, Harry glared at him furiously, “You vile monster. But I have an idea to get you… fame, let’s just say.”

Luckily for Harry, Lockhart was so greedy and slimy that even on hearing the word fame, he would instantly go into a frenzy, and do anything to get it, so he didn’t need to make any further persuasions. Unluckily, Lockhart did grab his shoulders and start vigorously shaking him.

“Fame you say? I need it, I need it, I need it,” he ranted, with a mad look in his eye, as his heartbeat visibly quickened, as evidenced by the prominent veins on his hands pulsing faster.

“Uhh, I need you to follow me,” Harry managed, but since Lockhart still didn’t stop shaking him, he continued, “There is a secret hidden in Hogwarts I need your help to find.”

Technically it wasn’t a lie, Harry supposed, and luckily, this was enough to convince Lockhart.

“Lead the way then, boy,” Lockhart said, clapping his hands together excitedly, “Let’s go make me even more famous!”

Reluctantly, Harry gave him a curt smile suggesting he agreed, and led Lockhart down a few flights of stairs, and to that half broken girl’s toilet, where the infamous ghost Moaning Myrtle dwelled. It was uncanny in fact, since as Harry led Lockhart in, carefully avoiding a particularly large puddle by the door, he could indeed hear Myrtle moaning, and rather loudly at that.

“Now this is a rather curious place isn’t it?” Lockhart remarked, holding his robes up slightly so they didn’t drag in the water, and taking in the half flooded floor and toilet paper strewn randomly across it in the corner.

Him speaking caused someone in the far cubicle, which Harry only then realised was shut, to start scrambling, and it was a moment later that the door to it opened, and out popped a rather disheveled looking Ronald Weasley.

“Uhhh, Harry,” Ron started, his freckled face growing red, “Fancy seeing you here…”

Behind him, Moaning Myrtle giggled loudly and after briefly poking out the cubicle to see who was there, quickly flew off down the u-bend, leaving Ron to explain himself alone.

“Listen, I don’t even want to know,” Harry said, “And the reason for that is, I’ve got it, the location of the Chamber of Secrets!”

“How did you do that?” Ron said, still blushing profusely, as he scratched his head nervously.

Harry smirked at him, “Hermione helped me. Though not in the way Myrtle helped you, it seems, although I wouldn’t mind if she had.”

Ron was now even redder in the face, and behind him Lockhart seemed on the verge of clearing his throat and interjecting, so Harry decided to move along.

“Come on, we need to find the entrance. Is there a snake symbol here anywhere?” Harry said, as he did a quick look around.

“Right here,” Lockhart spoke, pointing to a tap, which had a snake design extruded from the top of its spout. Harry cursed himself in his head, he’d been trying to deny it for months now, but he really needed to cast an eyesight improving spell on his eyes, as recently things had been getting rather blurry, even with his glasses on.

Harry walked over to it, peering down at the tap. Not sure what to do, he first tried saying “Open,” in English, but nothing happened.

Ron scratched his head, “Harry, maybe try using that snake language thing.”

Harry nodded in agreement, and lent down, focusing on the snake design, and, as he concentrated, he opened his mouth. What came out was not English, but a strange hissing sound that caused Lockhart to pale slightly. However, it seemed to have worked, as the sound of stone moving reverberated across the toilet, and the entire stone to which the sink was attached shifted back, revealing a deep hole leading down into the darkness. Harry couldn’t even begin to guess how far down it went.

“That doesn’t seem very safe,” Lockhart remarked, looking over Harry’s shoulder, “And I don’t think I’ll find much fame there. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll just head back to my…”

“Oh no you don’t,” Harry snarled, but knew better than to antagonise Lockhart, so put on a softer voice, “You don’t know what’s down there. I’ve heard there are treasures beyond any man’s wildest dreams down there.”

And again, it proved to Harry’s advantage that Lockhart was so vain and stupid, as instantly all doubt vanished from his mind, and he calmly pushed Harry out of the way, and jumped down the hole. It was about 20 seconds before a strange splat could be heard from the bottom, and Lockhart’s voice echoed up to them from the bottom.

“Come down, it’s soft down here, it breaks your fall!”

Harry and Ron looked at each other, weighing the reliability of what Lockhart had said. Finally, Harry spoke, “After you then.”

Ron grumbled, but jumped first, and Harry followed after him a moment later, with only slight hesitation.

Chapter Text

“Where on earth are we?” Ron mumbled as he looked around in the darkness, as the sticky substance he was on squelched under him.

Harry sighed, “We are in the Chamber of Secrets. Were the Basilisk that is petrifying all the muggle-borns is. And seriously, are both of you so stupid you don’t know how to cast lumos.”

Raising his wand, Harry lit up the area around them with a wave of his wand, and it immediately became apparent what they had landed in.

“Yuck!” Lockhart shrieked in a high pitched voice, jumping up as soon as he saw, “What the hell is this place?”

“Chamber of Secrets my arse,” Ron muttered, “No, this is more like the Chamber of Faeces!”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Harry grumbled, “But I guess, just once, you are right.”

Ron grinned, and continued, “Like yeah, we’re supposed to be in Scotland, but this looks more like India.”

Lockhart growled at him, “I’ve been to India several times visiting their… I mean I’ve been to India many times, and there isn’t that much excrement on the floor there!”

“Still,” Harry said, pulling out his wand, “This is completely and utterly disgusting. Scourgify.”

Harry’s robes were instantly cleaned by the spell, however, Ron was unable to cast the spell, having been asleep in that lesson, and Lockhart curtly informed Harry that he refused to be cleaned by anyone except the three nude Thai masseuses that he had snuck into his office. As such, Lockhart and Ron both remained covered in filth as they walked forward, guided by the light of Harry’s wand.

They treaded carefully, avoiding a section that looked like it was at a high risk of collapse any moment, and soon arrived in a large open section, with a high stone ceiling, and several drains leading into it; evidently the source of the vast quantities faeces. The floor of this section was also heavily covered in excrement. But that was not what drew Harry’s attention, for at the end of the room, he saw someone familiar…

“Ginny!” Ron screamed, as he rushed towards her, slipping and sliding on the faeces, “What are you doing here?”

The skittish ginger girl looked up just in time to see Ron fall over and land face first in a particularly grim and slimy mass of faeces, leaving his entire face brown. She grimaced, and hid something thick and black behind her back.

“I’m… uhh, what are you doing here?” she finally managed, looking rather bashful.

“I asked first,” Ron retorted, looking horrified as he wiped his face with his sleeve, although this still left a considerable amount of excrement all over him.

Finally, Ginny sighed, and spoke, “I was going to finally… do it with my… how to put it… friend?”

“Do it?” Ron went deathly pale, completely shocked, “But Ginny, you are a first year!”

“Says you,” Harry interjected, smirking, “What was that you were doing up there in the cubicle with Moaning Myrtle?”

“Shut up,” Ron whined, “It wasn’t what you think it was, I was just helping her…”

“I really don’t want to know,” Harry replied, as he turned to see Lockhart curiously scampering around the edge of the room, evidently looking for treasure.

“It’s this… diary that I have…” admitted Ginny, after another pause, “It has this guy, beautiful lovely Tom, that I speak to, every day, all day. He’s the only one that understands me, he’s like… my only friend.”

Harry held back a laugh with difficulty; he hadn’t realised Ginny was this pathetic before. Since he didn’t want to further antagonise Ron by laughing as his sister, after all, Ron looked like he was about to become a salt factory at any rate, Harry coughed loudly to mask a giggle that managed to slip out, Ron giving him a peculiar side-eye expression. But then, as Harry thought about what Ginny had just said, he remembered a book of that sort from earlier, one he had found in the very bathroom he had come in via, and it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Ginny, did you steal from my trunk?” he asked sternly, and Ginny, unable to lie, but also unwilling to admit with words, nodded meekly, holding onto the book tighter.

This admission broke Harry, and he jumped at Ginny, and pinning her down, started to violently strangle her, as she gasped as her hair was instantly coated with the faeces that was now under her. Her eyes widened, and she looked up at Harry with a pitiful tearful and betrayed look, unable to move against him, her shock and terror at the fact that Harry Potter was doing this terrible thing to her so great. Her hands let go of the book, and it fell into the faeces to her side, forgotten.

“Harry!” Ron’s voice snapped him out of his bloodlust-fuelled rage, “What the hell are you doing to my sister?”

“Sorry about that,” Harry said, jumping up jollily, and clapping Ron on the back, hard, “No hard feelings, right? No permanent damage I’m sure.”

Ron scratched his head angrily, a shower of salt falling out of it, “So what do we do now then?” he said through gritted teeth, staring with barely concealed rage at Harry.

“Well, we just have to find the Basilisk, kill it, and then come back up as heroes,” Harry explained, looking around the chamber, “I’ll even let you take some of the credit… maybe.”

“How very kind of you,” Ron snapped, salt accumulating in his hair, as he resisted the urge to curl his hands into fists.

“Oh, look here,” suddenly Lockhart’s voice echoed from the farthest back of the room, where a massive statue of a snake head stood, “There’s a button here, I wonder what happens if I press it…”

“Wait…” Harry started, but Lockhart pressed it anyway, and the second time that day, the sound of stone moving was heard.

Ron and Ginny both also turned to watch, as the mouth of the snake parted, widening, until it revealed a long, even darker tunnel. Lockhart peered in, and called back, “Nothing there that I can see, should I look inside? There could be gold or silver, or maybe precious gems!”

But that was when Harry heard a hissing sound, that he remembered hearing in the walls of the castle, and he called out loudly and urgently, “Everyone, look away from there! Now!”

And as the hissing grew louder, it was clear that his words had come just in time.

Chapter Text

Out of the stone snake’s open mouth slithered out the Basilisk, looking around at the four people before it. In the corner, to the side of the snake head, stood Lockhart, quivering in the corner and whispering about how much he wished he had stayed at home and never gone to Hogwarts. On the other side, further along the Chamber, stood two gingers, a boy and a girl, and one black-haired boy, although the gingers had made sure to keep their distance. But the Basilisk didn’t fix it’s gaze on any of them, and instead slowly slithered over to the black book, that Ginny had dropped in the middle of the Chamber, slightly covered in excrement.

Harry heard the snake hiss “Master,” as it approached, though he didn’t dare look back at what was happening, and he had also removed his glasses to make sure he didn’t accidentality catch a reflection in them. For once, he had absolutely no idea what he could do, and considering Ron’s stupidity, and that Ginny was still just a first year, he wasn’t sure they would be any help either.

Was this the end for him, was this how he would meet his end. Who even was this Tom Riddle character, he’d talked to him in the book, earlier in the year, but still he knew nothing about him, nothing at all. It was at that moment that a soft voice behind him spoke: “Harry Potter.”

Harry didn’t answer and remained facing the wall. The voice spoke again, more insistent, “Turn around, Harry Potter. I don’t have all day. You have my assurance that the Basilisk is facing away.”

Again, Harry didn’t turn, but this time he asked, “And how do I know you aren’t lying?”

“Like this,” the voice spoke again, and he felt an arm on his shoulder, that somehow felt only half corporeal, spin him around. Instinctually, he opened his eyes, and saw that there was no lie, the Basilisk was facing away. But the face in front of him, he recognised it.

“Tom Riddle?”

“Yes, I am Tom Riddle, or, as my full name is, Tom Marvolo Riddle,” the voice, Riddle’s, confirmed.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, fighting to stop his voice quivering.

“The better question is,” Riddle replied, “What are you doing here?”

“I asked first…” Harry started, but Riddle silenced him with a glare.

“I don’t care,” Riddle snapped, “Answer me.”

“I’m here too slay the Basilisk,” Harry answered, “It petrified my friend.”

“Ohh,” Riddle grinned, “Friends with a mudblood are you? Well then, Harry Potter, that’s enough pleasantries, is it not?”

Harry was about to reply, saying that in fact he was quite happy to carry on talking, but then he saw, in the corner of his eye, Riddle covertly reaching for his pocket where he kept his wand.

“Oh no you don’t,” Harry yelled, and kicked Riddle hard in the stomach. It was a poor kick, but the shock sent Riddle stumbling back, giving Harry enough time to pull out his wand, point it at Riddle, and yell, “Stupefy!”

The spell hit Riddle straight in the chest, and he fell to the ground, although he was hardly stained by the faeces at all, and Harry realised what he had started to suspect, Riddle must be some sort of ghost.

Ron and Ginny in the mean time turned around carefully, and upon seeing Riddle’s body laying unconscious on the floor, Ginny ran over to him, starting to weep, “Oh my poor Tommy, what’s happened to you?”

Harry gawked at her behaviour, “What are you doing? He’s literally the enemy!”

“Yes,” Ginny said, looking up at him, as if what Harry said was stupid, “I like bad boys, you know.”

Sighing, Harry turned to Ron, “You do realise we are going to have to kill him, what is Ginny going to say?”

“I don’t know, mate,” Ron said, with no small amount of venom in the last word, “But I’d start running right about now if I were you!”

Indeed, Harry spelt the positively acidic breath of the Basilisk right behind him, and he ran off, in the opposite direction of Ron, hoping it would follow him instead. Unfortunately this didn’t pan out, and the Basilisk followed him, with a loud hiss, while Ron hid in a corner; Lockhart was still hiding round the back of the stone snake’s mouth opening, out of sight. Ginny in the mean time didn’t make any effort to move at all, stroking Riddle’s hair lovingly, as her tears dripped all over his ghostly robes, her own knees sinking into the excrement that surrounded him as she doted over her apparent beloved.

But Harry’s attention couldn’t stay focused on that frankly sickening scene, for behind him trailed the Basilisk, and it was rapidly gaining on him. He needed to do something fast, he knew that much, as he quickly changed direction, his feet sinking into the excrement underfoot, the Basilisk’s fangs barely missing his arm. He was now running straight towards Ginny, the girl’s hand now resting on Riddle’s forehead, probably checking his temperature.

It was then that Harry had an idea, as he saw the black book that lay before him. It would surely block the Basilisk’s bite, and let him get behind it. Ginny barely had a chance to react as Harry grabbed the book from Riddle’s side, and held it out blindly behind him, and mercifully, this worked; he heard a hiss as something burned at his robe sleeve. Ducking back, and ensuring not to face it, Harry spun round, and took several steps back, and, covering his eyes with one hand, raising his wand with the other, yelled, “Diffindo!”

Several things happened at once in that moment: firstly, Harry became aware of a horrific screaming coming from Riddle’s direction, and, from the same direction, Ginny beginning to cry loudly. Secondly, there was a loud thud as something immensely heavy fell down to the floor of the Chamber, a massive splash of faeces around it flying off to the sides, some of which hit Harry. Thirdly, Harry became suddenly aware of the fact that some of the slimy excrement had managed to seep into his shoe as he had ran from the Basilisk.

“Scourgify,” Harry said, disgustedly, pointing his wand at himself, causing all the faeces on him to disappear.

“Harry?” Ron’s voice came from the distance, “Can we open our eyes yet?”

“Probably,” replied Harry, “I mean, I’ll do it after you.”

There was the sound of Ron grumbling, and a moment later Ron said, “Yeah, it’s safe.”

Even though he didn’t entirely trust Ron, Harry opened his eyes. It was safe. There lay, before him, the severed head of the Basilisk, it’s eyes shut, the diary, which was ousing some strange black substance, and Ginny, who was fishing her hands through the excrement on the floor, which Harry recognised as the spot where Riddle had been.

“My darling!” she weeped, “Where have you gone? Oh horror, oh horror.”

Again, Harry had to resist laughing at her, although he did carefully pick up the husk of the diary, assuming it might be important. Instead, he turned to Ron, who he saw was still standing against the wall with his eyes closed.

“Ronald Weasley!” he bellowed, to which Ron jumped slightly, turning around and opening his eyes.

“Uhh yeah,” Ron muttered, trying to avoid Harry’s gaze, “I wanted you to check first, so I kinda lied.”

“I would kill you,” Harry grumbled, “But I don’t want a criminal record. Where’s Lockhart?”

Ron looked around, “Oh, he’s there.”

Indeed, Lockhart had, now that he was sure there was no danger, returned to scampering around the Chamber, desperately looking for something valuable, his gaze often looking back to the Basilisk with a particularly greedy expression.

“The Basilisk must be quite valuable,” Harry whispered to Ron, “I’m going to have to make sure it stays mine.”

“Why?” Ron whispered back jealously, “You are already rich.”

“Well,” Harry rubbed his hands together, “The only thing better than money is more money. And I need more money, for after Hogwarts. I’ve got big plans. Now, only Parseltongue speakers can get in here, so as soon as we get out, Lockhart can’t get back in.”

Ron nodded, although his eyes had a distinctly wistful look in them, “Let’s go then.”

“Come on, Lockhart,” Harry called out, causing Lockhart to jump like a scared kitten.

“Uhh, just a minute Harry,” Lockhart muttered.

“We can’t wait,” Harry replied, having already thought of an excuse, “The ceiling isn’t stable, remember? We wouldn’t want to get stuck in a cave-in now would we?”

“Oh, no!” Lockhart replied, looking genuinely worried, “How long have we got?”

“Any minute now,” Harry replied, “Come on, hurry!”

With those words, he rushed off the exit, and Lockhart, seeing him running, followed, as quickly as he could. Ron was not far behind them, having stopped to grab Ginny’s hand and drag her after them. Soon, they reached the pipe down which they had fallen.

“How do we get up now?” asked Lockhart, “I don’t recall anything here to help us…”

Harry sighed, casting Lumos, “There is literally a ladder on the side of the pipe. Now come on!”

And with that, the four of them climbed out of the chamber, up the ladder, which took the best part of three minutes. Once they were out, emerging into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, Harry sealed the Chamber behind them, using Parseltongue, while Myrtle immediately flew over to Ron to check he was alright, causing him to blush profusely.

Chapter Text

Several days had passed since Harry, Ron, and Lockhart’s successful excursion into the Chamber of Secrets. When they had left the bathroom, they had been met by none other than the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who had ushered them into his office, intent on finding out everything that had happened. He had been particularly interested in the diary, and insisted rather vigorously on keeping it. Ginny had somehow been allowed to get away with zero punishment, something Harry felt was hardly fair.

But it was today that Harry had been looking forward to, for today was the day that the Mandrakes had finished growing, and had been turned into the potion needed to cure petrification. Hermione was due to be awoken later today, and Harry was making his way over to make sure he was there when she did. Ron had claimed that he wanted to go, but Myrtle had arranged something that couldn’t be moved to a different time. At the time, Harry had glared at Ron, as Hermione was supposed to be his friend, but now he felt somewhat pleased that Ron wouldn’t be there, after all, he didn’t want someone like Ron to intrude on his and Hermione’s private time together.

After a few more turns, Harry arrived in the Hospital Wing, where he saw Hermione still lay in a bed, still petrified. He rested his hand on her frozen one, and whispered to her, as he had done for an hour every single day “Soon now, soon.”

It almost felt as if SHE could hear him, and soon, as Harry told himself, she would. Madam Pomfrey walked over, carrying a little cup in one hand, and her wand in the other. She offered Harry a small smile as she lent over, and held the cup to Hermione’s mouth. With a little move of her wand, it opened just wide enough for Madam Pomfrey to pour the contents into her mouth.

For a moment, it seemed like nothing happened, but then Harry felt warmth returning to Hermione’s hands, which also softened. Madam Pomfrey smiled slightly wider this time, and walked away, to awaken another patient, an older Hufflepuff girl, who had two of her housemates sitting by her bedside anxiously waiting. Harry lent closer, still holding Hermione’s hand, as he saw her face softening, and her eyelids flickering.

Finally, after about a minute, they opened, taking a moment to adjust to the bright light, and Hermione looked up into his eyes, that watched over her from above, her own eyes lighting up.

“Harry!” she smiled, trying to sit up, though it proved to be rather hard for her, “I’m so glad you are here.”

“Easy,” Harry returned Hermione’s smile, “Don’t over-exert yourself.”

But Hermione didn’t listen, as she finally was fully un-petrified, she flung her arms around Harry, engulfing him in a tight hug.

“Oh yeah, we defeated the Basilisk and all that, destroyed some diary or other had Voldemort in it, found out his real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Harry said, slightly muffled by Hermione squeezing him so tightly, although she clearly didn’t care all that much about what he was saying.

“That reminds me, where’s Ron?” Hermione asked, curiously, “It’s not that I wish he was here, I don’t…”

The reminder of Ron caused Harry to laugh, “He’s actually found himself a girlfriend.”

“No way,” Hermione looked positively shocked, “Who would date that imbecile?”

Harry snorted, and, trying to hold back his laughter, managed to say, “Moaning Myrtle!”

Hermione immediately joined Harry in laughing, “What an absolute idiot!” she whispered to herself, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, as she shook her head.

“At least we are normal,” Harry said, as he finally managed to stop laughing.

“I wouldn’t call normal talking to a petrified person for an hour a day, and even reading the textbooks to make sure I don’t get left behind,” Hermione fixed him with a suspicious look, although it betrayed amusement.

“So you heard?” Harry started, blushing, wondering if she had heard, not just the wild expressions of his love for her, but so too his darkest and deepest desires, that he usually kept secret from everyone except him, and his subscription to a niche interest magazine that had been banned in most of Europe.

“Everything, even those confessions about what you wanted to do with me, a jar of marmalade, a flyswatter, and a rented wing of a diary factory,” Hermione confirmed, her voice soft, squeezing his hand tightly, their sweat mixing together as their palms rubbed together.