Harry found himself in a dark and cold stone tunnel and immediately drew his wand. Casting a Lumos, he hesitantly walked forward. The portal behind him had closed and it looked both steep and unpromising. He hoped he might find either another way out or a more defensible position further ahead. Snape’s DADA lessons at the forefront of his mind, he moved cautiously, wrinkling his nose at the crunch of bones underfoot.

“Hmmm, what have we here? You’re quite the runt, aren’t you?”

Harry jerked backwards, wand coming up protectively. “Who are you?” he demanded, looking at the boy in the Hogwarts uniform.

“Tom Riddle. That’s my diary you have there. Give it back to me, boy.”

Harry automatically bristled at the term. Uncle Vernon had always called him boy and he hated it. “What are you doing here? Are you a ghost like Myrtle?”

“No, you little fool. Haven’t you figured out exactly who I am?” At Harry’s confused look, Riddle waved his own wand and his full name appeared above his head. Then the letters reshuffled themselves and…

“You’re Lord Voldemort?” Harry gasped in shock. He looked at the other boy and wondered how he could have changed from an attractive young man to the horror he’d seen in the back of Quirrell’s skull.

Riddle sneered. “Obviously letting in all the mudbloods has caused Hogwarts’ standards to drop. I assure you students weren’t so slow in my day.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry snapped back. “Well, Tom, you’re in for a shock when you see what your future holds. Get ready to be real ugly.”

Riddle laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Get ready to be real dead, boy. Who do you think you are?”

“I think I’m Harry Potter,” Harry retorted. “I’ve already beaten you twice, Tom, so don’t expect me to get all worked up about doing it a third time.”

“Temper, temper,” chided the other. “Why so grumpy with me? You’d think I had injured you personally or something.”

“You killed my parents, you twisted freak,” Harry spat.

Riddle waved a hand. “So I killed your parents. I’ve killed a lot of people. Besides, what good are parents anyway? Take it from me, I did you a favor. Parents are useless. Always telling you what to do and belting you and stopping you from doing fun things.”

The argument might – just might – have worked on a more naïve pre-teen with nice, normal, protective parents. Someone who had not yet learned to appreciate their parents but who had merely begun, as adolescents do, to chafe under their increasingly burdensome rules. But for someone like Harry, an orphan who had always dreamed of having a family of his own, the words were a red flag to a bull.  Harry erupted in fury.

“YOU BASTARD! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“Not if I have it kill you first,” Riddle smirked, gesturing at something past Harry.

“Food? Food!” The voice was directly behind Harry and he froze. He remembered what Hermione had said about basilisks – or was it chimeras? – and knew he couldn’t risk looking around.

“Er, hello there?” he said nervously.

“It speaks! It is a speaker!”

“Yes, hi – I’m Harry. Nice to meet you. Erm, who are you?”

“Kill him!” Riddle interrupted. “This isn’t a tea party. Don’t introduce yourselves. Eat him!”

“Why are you listening to him?” Harry quickly asked, his eyes tightly shut and every muscle in his body trembling. “You don’t have to do what he says, you know.”

“My master sent him – I must obey,” the whispery voice said.

“Who is your master?” Harry gulped, feeling his last hope slip away.

“I serve Salazar Slytherin. This is his heir”

“What?” Harry yelped. “Slytherin didn’t send this idiot! If he told you that, he’s lying!”

“WHAT?” Both basilisk and Riddle shouted at him.

”Slytherin died a thousand years ago!” Harry argued. “This imposter never knew him. He may have declared himself Slytherin’s heir, but Slytherin never anointed him!”

“Is this true?” The huge snake’s voice was unmistakably menacing.

“Nonsense. The child lies. Kill him and eat him! Didn’t I promise you food? Here he is.”

“I’m not lying! Ask anyone – Slytherin has been dead for centuries. This freak isn’t even as old as Dumbledore!”

“Who is Dumbledore?”

“He’s the Headmaster. How long have you been down here, anyway?”

"I slept for many many years, then this one roused me some five decades past, telling me he was my master’s heir. Now he has awakened me again.”

“You mean he hasn’t let you outside in all these years? Not once?” Harry asked sympathetically. He knew what it was like to be locked up and starved. “Listen, I’ve been locked up in little places and not given any food too. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does. Why would you listen to anyone who did that?”

“Shut up! I command you to EAT THAT BOY!”

“I don’t want to,” the basilisk retorted, sounding petulant. “He’s right. You have no proof that you are the heir of my master.”

“I am a parselmouth!”

“So’s he. He’s not claiming to be my master’s heir.”

“Listen, if you’re hungry, I can probably find you something to eat,” Harry offered. “Not people, mind, but we can work something out. I have a friend who has plenty of experience with – erm – challenging dietary habits. And he’s a half-giant, so you don’t have to worry about squashing him.”

“Hagrid? Are you talking about that idiot? I should have had him killed, not expelled!” Riddle screamed in fury. “I ORDER YOU TO STOP TALKING AND EAT HIM!”

“Alas, he is not really there. He is a magical apparition, tied to some object.”

Harry dug in his pocket. “You mean like this book?” he asked. “Can you eat it?”

“No! Stop!” Riddle turned pale. “Boy – Harry. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to become a murderer.”

Harry’s eyes remained tightly shut, but his features could have been carved out of stone. “You killed my parents. You killed lots of other people. And you’re still telling your Death Eaters to kill more. You better believe I’ll kill you if I can. That’s not murder, it’s self defense. And this isn’t even that – I’m just recycling an old book.”

He tossed the diary towards the basilisk who snatched it out of the air and chewed meditatively, ignoring the shrieks from the disintegrating figure now clawing futilely at Harry. “A poor appetizer,” it commented. “You mentioned something about food?”

“Well, if you absolutely positively must have people, I can try to find you some Death Eaters, but it would be awfully convenient if you’d settle for some meat and veg. For example, how do you feel about sheep?”

“I have no strict requirement for human flesh. Basilisks are omnivores, you know. Sheep and cows are acceptable. I like fruit, but cabbage gives me wind. Broccoli is all right though. No chicken.”

"If it’s all right with you, I’ll go upstairs and find my friends. They’ll know where to get the food for you. Do you want to leave the Chamber? Take a walk or something?”

The basilisk thought for a moment. “That would be nice. It’s been a millennium since I’ve seen the sun, you know.”

“Okay, but it may take a few minutes. We don’t want you to petrify anyone.”

The basilisk sniffed. “It’s always one complication or another, isn’t it? Very well, but be quick about it, Master.”

“Master? Um, I’m not your – “

“If Slytherin is dead, then I have no master, and you have been the only Speaker in a millennium who has shown any concern for my wishes. You will do. Unless you do not wish to be my master?”  There was a pregnant pause.

“Er, no, no! I’d be honored!” Harry said hastily.

“Right, right.”

Harry hurried back down the tunnel and – now that he was no longer petrified of being eaten by a monster – was able to see what he had missed before. A narrow, winding staircase made its way up from the stony depths of the Chamber. He climbed as quickly as he could, then requested the stone serpents to open the portal. He tumbled out to find a riot occurring in Myrtle’s lavatory.

“Harry!” Loud voices hailed him from all sides, and he confusedly made out the voices of Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione before he was roughly grabbed and enfolded in the tightest embrace he could ever remember.

“Harry, Harry,” a low voice whispered brokenly over and over into his hair.

Shocked, he twisted his head up to find himself staring at Professor Snape. Almost as soon as Harry realized who was hugging him, Snape realized what he was doing and shoved Harry out to arms’ length. “Are you all right?” he demanded furiously.

Harry nodded, speechless.

“DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT TO ME AGAIN!” He felt himself spun around and a hard whack landed on his backside.

“Master? Are you in jeopardy?” the basilisk’s voice drifted up through the open portal.

The basilisk laughed. “I will not help you with that kind of peril, Master! You see why being hatched from an egg is superior to what you warmbloods do!”

Harry rubbed his butt. “Yes, I see your point. Hold on just a few more minutes.” He turned back to the others, now staring at him wide eyed. “So, um, that’s sort of my basilisk.”

The others just blinked at him. He stared back, chewing his lip and wondering where to begin. Hermione had Hedwig on one shoulder and Fawkes on the other, while Hagrid was holding onto two chickens and Ron had a third cradled in his arms. Dumbledore was wearing what appeared to be a peculiar pair of sunglasses, and McGonagall actually had tears streaming down her face. Snape wore his usual poker face, and if it hadn’t been for his smarting rear, Harry would have sworn he had imagined the panicked whispers and hug.

“Um, Hermione – what’s with all the birds?”

“Oh! Well, the book said that the rooster crow would kill the basilisk, but I thought I’d bring Hedwig and Fawkes along too in case the book was wrong and it was some other kind of bird song. I told Hagrid to bring his roosters, and I’ve got the Imperius down cold, so if you need them to crow –“

“No!” Harry exclaimed. “No – the basilisk sort of belongs to me now, and I promised we’d feed it and give it a walk and stuff. It’s been locked up there now for over a thousand years. No wonder it got a little hungry and cranky. Oh, and Voldemort was down there too – only this time he looked like he was a student here. It was really weird to see him with a prefect’s badge,” Harry commented absently. “But my basilisk ate the diary that was creating his magical illusion, so I think he’s pretty much gone now. Will that make Ginny better, Professor McGonagall?”

She sniffed and nodded. “Yes, Mr Potter. Good work. Ten points to G-G-Gryffindor.” She raised her handkerchief to her eyes again.

“Um, thanks. Er, Ron – what’s up with your chicken?”

Ron shrugged. The bird in his hand looked distinctly different from the ones Hagrid was holding. “I wasn’t sure if Hermione would be able to find any, so I floo’d home and grabbed one from the Burrow. Mum nearly had a stroke when I popped through, but I yelled you were fighting a basilisk and needed a chicken and that stopped her.” Ron paused, looking thoughtful. “On second thought, she might drop by to check on us.”

“Oh. Well, it’ll be nice to see her,” Harry said politely. “Hagrid, do you think you’d be willing to look after a basilisk? It’s very nice, actually, and I think once it gets fed it will be a lot less likely to talk about blood and killing.”

“Hmmm.” Hagrid scratched his head. “’M not sure I rightly know what basilisks eat.”

“It says they’re omnivores and likes sheep and cows and broccoli and fruit – but cabbage gives it, er, gas, so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. No chicken, obviously.”

“Hmmm. Some of our neighbors got some flocks o’ sheep,” Hagrid mused. “How big is this beastie, Harry?”

“I’m not exactly sure, Hagrid. I kinda kept my eyes closed – you know, the whole thing about its stare?”

“Perhaps we can remedy that,” Dumbledore said, speaking for the first time. “Minerva, if you were to transfigure a pair of spectacles for the creature, I could perform a reversal of this spell…”

“And then, so long as the basilisk’s eyes were shielded, it would pose no threat! What a good idea, Professor!” Hermione finished brightly.

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” Albus twinkled at her. “Minerva, would you do the honors? Harry, perhaps you will put on my pair of protective spectacles and then ensure that your basilisk understands what is needed?”

“Yes, sir. Er, are you still there?” he called.

“Yes. Still here, Master. And still hungry,” came the rather pointed reply.

“I’m working on that. Um, would you be willing to wear something over your eyes so you don’t kill all my friends?”

“If you so order it, Master,” the creature sighed. “You know I will only kill upon your orders, though?”

“That’s good to know, but I think it would just make everyone feel a little safer.”

“As you wish. And the food?”

“Yes, I know. Um, do you have a name?”

“Would you like to give me one?”

Harry paused, realizing he wasn’t even sure of the basilisk’s gender. “Er, maybe it would be better if you chose it yourself.”

“Hmmmm. I have always liked the name Morgana.”

“That’s very nice. Just be patient a little longer, please, Morgana.” Harry turned to the others. “Okay, her name is Morgana –“

“Morgana the basilisk?” Ron choked.

“You want to argue with her?” Harry retorted. Ron shook his head vigorously.

“Anyway, she says she’ll only petrify people if I tell her to, but she’s willing to wear the glasses or goggles or whatever.”

“Fine, fine, my boy. I will give you this pair, and then you will go down and -”

“No.”

Everyone turned to Snape.

“Excuse me, my dear –“

“No. Harry is not going down there alone again. Conjure up some more spectacles, Albus.”

Harry started to say he didn’t mind, but one look from Snape silenced him.

Dumbledore looked nonplused. “It is not an easy spell, Severus, and –“

“Call Filius to help with the Charm, but Harry is not going down there alone.”

Dumbledore sighed and capitulated. In the end, Snape, Harry, Minerva, Hagrid, and Albus went down together, all wearing the protective spectacles.

When Harry caught his first sight of Morgana, he gulped and grabbed Professor Snape’s hand. Snape squeezed back hard.

Morgana was bigger than the Knight Bus. She was enormous. She was also very pretty, though it was hard to appreciate the irridiscent luster of her scales in the dim Chamber. Hagrid started oohing and aahing and making incoherent noises of admiration, which had Morgana slithering about him in a very affectionate manner.

“I like this one, Master. He is most appreciative of my beauty.”

“I like him even more, Master. Hello, little human,” she rested her chin on Hagrid’s head and the half-giant managed – barely – not to collapse.

“She likes me!” he exclaimed happily “Look! She likes me!”

With McGonagall and Albus working together to size and charm the spectacles, soon Morgana was sporting an odd but efficient pair that completely covered her eyes.

“You look really nice, Morgana. It’s like an, um, fashion accessory,” Harry said politely.

“Thank you, Master. Now, where is my food?”

Getting Morgana out of the Chamber was a bit tricky. Filius had been dispatched to move all chickens from the area so there was no threat to the basilisk, but squeezing Morgana through the opening took both time and tact. Ron and Hermione, watching the giant serpent emerge, clutched hands and backed up into the farthest stall.

It was decided that McGonagall would go ahead to negotiate the purchase of several flocks of sheep and truckloads of vegetables from nearby farms. Meanwhile, in order to forestall any panic by students or staff, the Headmaster would accompany Hagrid and Morgana out of the castle. The house elves had already been asked to deposit all available fruits and vegetables from the kitchen – with the exception of cabbage – on the Quidditch pitch, as that seemed the most reasonable dining area for the basilisk. “I’ll also ask the castle to make Morgana a suitably sized entrance so that she may reenter the Chamber without so much inconvenience,” Dumbledore said. “It will be nice to have another means of protecting the school in these perilous times,” he added with a fond smile at Harry. “When I return, you will have to tell us the whole story.”

“Yes, Professor.” Harry smiled back. He had done it! He had saved Ginny and defeated Voldemort and he had even managed to befriend a giant snake! …So why wasn’t he feeling more excited?

He felt a hand drop on his shoulder and glimpsed a black sleeve. Oh. Right.

“I will see you in my chambers now, Mr Potter,” Snape said forbiddingly.

“Um, maybe I should go with Morgana?” he ventured.

“Now.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “Yessir.” He managed a weak grin at Ron and Hermione’s worried expressions.

“You two – await the Headmaster’s return at his office,” Snape instructed. “After you have made certain that the various fowl have been returned to their respective homes.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused, watching as Harry and Snape headed downstairs.