Vows by Zarathustra

When the two Snapes were nearly halfway up the grand staircase, they were almost run down by a trunk being levitated by a very dishevelled, and hurrying, Professor Lockhart.

"Ah, Gilderoy, just the man I was looking for!" Snape sneered. He ignored his son's incredulous look, shushing him with a downward motion of his hand. Lockhart literally squeaked with terror when he saw Severus, but attempted to regain his composure, straightening his fuchsia robes as he stood taller.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I have to leave... just received an urgent message... I'm sure you understand... so sorry," he said, quite flustered, as he attempted to push past the dark foreboding man in front of him.

"Oh, I don't think so, Professor," Snape said, stopping the man in his tracks with a hand on his chest. Lockhart gazed down at the potion-stained fingers with apprehension. "You see, your expertise in dealing with Dark Creatures is needed. A colleague and my son have been taken into the basilisk's lair, and you are just the man to face down the beast. Weren't you boasting, just last night in the staff room, that you knew how to defeat the creature? You said you'd done it hundreds of times before." His smirk grew exponentially more devious as he watched the blond impostor sweat bullets.

"Well, ah, yes, I did say that..." the man squeaked again, making to mop at his dripping forehead as Severus grabbed his forearm, neatly grabbing the wand out of his quaking fingers, and yanked the man along as he began ascending the stairs again, leaving the trunk to fall, tumbling end over end down the stairs, sounds of muffled breaking glass drifting up to their ears. Lockhart turned and watched the trunk land haphazardly on the landing edge - only to fall to the dungeon levels when the stairs moved out from under it. He gulped loudly before turning to face the madman next to him. "Severus, really, you don't understand...” he protested as they reached the second floor and began pelting down the corridor towards the girls bathroom.

"Oh, but I think I do, Gilderoy. You are a fraud. You've never done the things listed in your books; I know - I checked. You never managed to Obliviate all the witnesses, my friend." They had reached the large wooden door and Harry eyed it warily as his father undid the complicated charms holding it sealed.

"Now, Lockhart, have you ever heard of the Muggle mining practice of keeping a budgie in a cage to act as a warning of lethal gas? No? Well you are going to be our budgie today; you are going to enter the bathroom first." He strong-armed Lockhart into place, wand held on him, as he motioned Harry to stand to the other side of the door. When he felt that all was ready, he wandlessly opened the door and gave the reluctant Professor a quick little hex to his backside to get him moving.

Lockhart edged his way past the doorjamb, keeping his eyes closed as he walked forward, footsteps splashing on the flooded tiles. Myrtle had apparently been having a fit again. "No one here, Severus!" he called out in an abnormally high voice.

"Open your eyes, you imbecile!" came the response.

"Really, Severus, I don't think name-calling is appropriate... OUCH!!" he yelped, as his eyelids were forced open by another charm. "I say, that was rude!" he accused.

"What do you see, Lockhart?" was the weary question asked next.

"Nothing, except a wailing ghost and overflowing taps. May I leave now?" he queried.

"No, you may not." Severus was now directly behind him, prodding him forward with his wand poking him in the back. "Harry, come on in, and close the door behind you."

Gilderoy turned to see the young Gryffindor obeying his father's instructions, a snake winding its way down his hand from under his robes. "That's... that's..." he choked out, attempting to step out of striking range.

"A cobra, yes. My son's familiar. Now, be silent; or I'll make sure you are quiet - permanently," the Potions master threatened, waving his wand under Lockhart's nose. "Harry, the entrance - according to Myrtle - is in the central bank of sinks, there. Take a look around. There must be some sort of sign to indicate where... ah, you've found it!"

Harry had indeed found the right sink – quite simple really, it was the only one not spilling over and flooding the floor - and while conversing with his familiar about how to open the gateway, the sink had fallen into the floor, nearly sending Harry stumbling after it. He had regained his footing, however, and scrambled backwards. Myrtle came floating over to look down the large hole now revealed.

"Oh, that looks like it goes down absolutely forever!" she said morosely.

"Yeah, it does..." Harry said a bit timidly. He looked up at the ghost hovering nearby. "Erm, I'm Harry Potter-Snape," he introduced himself politely.

"Oh, aren't you the proper one! I'm Myrtle. Are you going to kill the basilisk?"

"I hope so - or get it to go somewhere safe. It has my brother down there..."

"Oooo, I bet he's dead already! Maybe he'll share my toilet with me!" She seemed to perk up at the prospect of a boy sharing her toilet with her, while Harry had blanched at the thought of his brother being dead already. "The basilisk killed me many years ago," she continued. "I didn't know what it was until recently," she confided into his ear. He tried to swat the annoying ghost away, but his hand went right through her - causing it to become chilled. She laughed at his attempts, "That tickles!"

"That's enough Myrtle - go tell Professor McGonagall where we've gone," Severus instructed as he saw the way Harry had reacted to the ghost's insensitive words.

"Oh, fine, if you insist," she huffed as she floated over to the wall and disappeared through it. Severus had grabbed Lockhart's arm again and tugged him over to the opening.

"Do you hear anything down there, Son?" he enquired gently.

Harry just shook his head as he peered down the oubliette.

"Good. Come along, Gilderoy - ladies first!" Snape said as he pushed the professor forward.

The Defence instructor balked at the opening, splaying his legs and arms apart to brace them against the surrounding porcelain. "You can't be serious! I can't go down there!" he squealed.

"On the contrary, you shall - even if I have to body-bind you in the process! Budgie, remember? We'll be right behind you." He sent another stinging hex at the man's backside causing him to grab his posterior in pain, as he tumbled forward and slid down the pipe, screaming all the way.

When Severus heard the gaudy professor land and his assertion that he was all right, he prepared himself to follow after, instructing Harry to wait until he heard his dad say he could come down, before jumping in himself. Harry was still whey-faced, but he took a firm grip on his wand and, telling Silicia to wind herself around his neck as the safest place to not get squished on the way down, jumped into the dark hole.

The ride down was harrowing, to say the least, but Harry still managed to get a thrill out of sliding along the pipes as they shot downward at an increasing slant. Harry could hear his father and professor talking as he slid the few remaining feet and popped out of the pipe to land sprawled on the floor of the chamber. He picked himself up, but not before noticing he was standing on thousands of little bones, all crunching beneath him as he stood up.

He looked up to find his dad had the other professor at wand point.

“Off you go, Gil, head straight down that tunnel.” Severus pointed with a nod of his head toward the corridor off to their left and Lockhart pursed his lips, but turned and began stomping away. Snape and Harry followed closely behind, wands at the ready.

“Harry, let me know if you or Silicia hear anything, you understand?” He peered down at his son who nodded his understanding.

The little trio entered another chamber and were faced with several exits. They each looked down the corridors offered and Harry spied a large shape lying in the shadows of the right-handed branch. As Severus passed Lockhart on the way to verifying what Harry had spotted, the man snatched his wand out of Severus’ pocket.

Severus whirled around to see the other man begin the wand movements for Obliviate. Showing why he practiced at defence every morning, Snape cast an extremely strong mirror shield charm, reflecting the curse back on the caster. He could feel his son’s protection backing him up, and Lockhart was unprepared for what happened as his charm hit the combined forces of two of the most powerful wizards in the school.

The force of his spell was doubled as it was reflected back to him, blasting him off of his feet and throwing him against the stone wall, knocking him out completely. It had also rocked the chamber to the point of causing a minor cave in, cutting Harry off from his father.

When the dust had cleared and Harry had managed to dig his way out from under a pile of rubble, he discovered a wall of rock blocked his pathway back to his father. He could see a small hole at the top of the pile and scrambled up the shifting rock to check it out. He could see through it into the chamber beyond, but the hole was too small for him to climb through.

He had to call several times before Severus heard him, waking up and coughing from the dust choking his lungs.

“Son? Are you all right?” Snape finally asked.

“Just a few bruises, Dad. How’s Lockhart?”

“Out cold. Go get your brother, Harry, but be safe – please. No Gryffindor heroics. I’ll try to shift this rock out of the way so you can climb out when you get back. I trust you, Harry, I know you can do this.”

Harry felt a small sob climb up his throat, but throttled it back down. He would be brave for his dad and his brother. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be back soon!” He turned away from the hole and slid down to the floor of the corridor.

He murmured “Lumos”, and the end of his wand lit up, throwing the uneven rock walls into stark relief. He crept forward keeping well clear of the large shape on the other side of the tunnel. As he was closer now, he could see that it was a giant snakeskin that looked like a deflated zeppelin all curled up along the chamber.

It seemed to take forever to pass by the skin, but he had soon reached the tail end of the artefact and now saw a large door carved into the stone of the chamber ahead of him. Silicia hissed as she spied the serpents that ranged along the edges of the stone slab, raised above it in bas-relief. Harry was impressed with the craftsmanship of the door and reached out to run a hand along it in awe, only to have one of the stone snakes bite his finger.

:Heir, you may pass,: came the hissing from the stone as Harry sucked on his wounded appendage, vowing to have a talk with Salazar’s portrait about his nasty means of verifying who could enter the chamber. The serpents began to move along the edge of the doorway, and Harry could hear the tumbling of locks as the edges around the door glowed a bright green before the entrance opened up.

As it swung open, Harry cautiously moved forward, stepping over the sill. He looked around as he came in, taking in the tall pillars shaped like various poisonous snakes that marched down the centre of the large cave-like structure. At the end of the line, Harry spotted his brother and Professor Trelawney lying on their backs near a pool of water. Harry ran the length of the room and slid to his knees between the two comatose people.

He reached out a hand to touch his brother’s face. It was cold as ice, and he could tell that Draco was barely breathing.

“It won’t be long now,” came a voice behind him. Harry turned and saw a handsome young man, in an older version of the school robes, standing nearby.

“What do you mean, not long now? And who are you?” he asked, frowning slightly, noticing how the edges of the young man seemed blurry to his sight.

“My name is not important; what is important is what my servant has brought to me. Of course,” he mused out loud, “she was quite useful to me, bringing me such a young and powerful young body to drain, and hers is just the icing on the cake – can’t leave evidence lying around, now, can I?” He moved closer to the three. “Yes, as they die, I gain more and more substance and when they do die, I will finally be able to live again!” he triumphed.

Harry managed to quickly put two and two together. Somehow this person was draining the professor and his brother of their life force, and the professor was the one who had unwittingly brought this about. Seeing a small leather bound book lying next to the professor, he realised she had to have been the one to find the diary – the diary of…

“Tom Riddle,” Harry said out loud, startling the other boy.

“What did you say?” he asked sharply, frowning at the young student.

“I just realised you are Tom Riddle – a younger version, perhaps, but Riddle nevertheless.” Harry explained.

“I no longer go by that name,” Tom said darkly.

“I know; you are Voldemort now. But you know what? You were defeated by a baby just thirteen years ago, so I’m really not that chuffed by you,” he said boldly.

“How dare you! Just the memory of me got that fool Dumbledore thrown out of the castle! I released the creature fifty years ago, and I’m doing it again. I will regain my body and rule the wizarding world!” Riddle declared pompously.

“Fool? Professor Dumbledore is not a fool! He’s one of the greatest wizards that has ever lived!” Harry protested. He didn’t necessarily trust the headmaster, but he still admired the man’s accomplishments and this… spectre… had no right to talk about him that way.

“And who are you, that you are so blinded by admiration of a weak old fool?” asked the rapidly solidifying figure.

Harry smirked. “Oh, just the baby who defeated you, then: Harry Potter-Snape!”

“Think you’re so smart, do you? Well, let’s see you figure your way out of this!” Riddle walked to the edge of the water and gazed over at the statue of Slytherin, raising his wand… wand? Harry looked around, his wand had been right there a moment ago and now it wasn’t. He looked closer at the wand in the hands of the chanting youth, and realised Tom had Harry’s own wand.

How could he have been so stupid to let his guard down! He had dropped it when he had checked out Draco and Trelawney. He desperately shook Draco. “Come on, Draco wake up! You’ve got to wake up!” Harry gave a short listen to Riddle’s incanting in Parseltongue, realising the boy was calling forth the basilisk. The head of the snake appeared out of the deep shadows of the now-open mouth of the huge statue, and Harry watched a second more as the snake was practically vomited out of the statue to lie in front of the spectral wizard.

Harry didn’t wait, he ran for his life dodging and weaving amongst the pillars while Silicia kept an ongoing commentary as to where her giant relative was moving. Harry dashed into a small hole, pushing himself up against the far wall. He heard a cry of birdsong fill the chamber as the basilisk sniffed its way past Harry’s hiding spot only to be brought up short by the bird attacking it. Harry could see the shadows dance on the floor of his cave – a huge bird was attacking the beast, pecking at something on the head of the basilisk.

Harry heard Riddle cry out in horror as his pet was blinded. Harry stuck his head out and, realising the serpent was otherwise occupied by a large red bird, – Fawkes, as Harry saw – Harry took off across the chamber, heading back towards the bodies of Draco and the professor. He spied the Sorting hat sitting near Draco’s head, but ignored it as he tried again to rouse his brother.

“He’s dieing, Harry Potter-Snape. He won’t live much longer now…” Harry tried to ignore the other student as he continued shaking his brother. He heard Riddle murmur in Parseltongue again and heard the scraping of scales against stone that signalled the return of the basilisk. Harry gazed at the hat again and was surprised to see something sparkling appearing in it. He reached over and grasped the hilt of a sword, drawing it free from the confines of the hat.

Brilliant! He was supposed to defeat a huge serpent with a filigreed toad sticker. He needed a huge machete, not some decorative sabre! But the sword, despite being encrusted with gold and jewels, sang in his hand and soul as he grasped it more firmly, swinging around to face the oncoming snake as it tried to snatch him from where he stood.

Harry swung the sword and felt a huge contentment as he felt the impact of the blade on the hide of the serpent. He only wanted to wound it, make it hide again for another fifty years, at least.

The beast screamed as the sword bit into the side of his neck. He heard his master telling him to kill the young wizard. This was live meat in front of him, not something rapidly cooling on the flagstone. The smell of the wizard’s blood drove him wild with lust and he made a dive again, only to be brought up short by the burn of the blade slicing off a row of scales.

Harry tried to talk to Gertrude, but she wasn’t hearing him or acknowledging that he could talk to her. She only obeyed Riddle. Harry came to the slow understanding that he would have to kill her in order to save Draco and Trelawney. He began leading the snake away from the other two, snatching the diary up as he went – following some instinct he was barely aware of; he just knew he needed to keep it close.

He was quick with his sword work, all those weeks of training with Severus and Draco paying off as he dodged the creature’s attacks and rained blows down on its vulnerable spots when they were accessible. He found himself climbing the statuary above Slytherin’s head, with Riddle egging on the beast and Harry defending himself. He had to end this soon – he was becoming tired and didn’t know how much longer he could battle Gertrude. A slip of his foot made his decision for him as he lost his footing along the slick marble. The basilisk, scenting weakness, came in for the kill and Harry thrust the sword straight into the basilisk’s mouth, driving it upward through the brain.

The snake gave a strangled scream before relaxing in death, Harry’s hand still grasping the sword as it pulled out of the head. The mouth closed down, trapping Harry’s arm in it’s bite and Harry used his feet, pushing against the head, to rip his arm out of the mouth, bringing the sword, and a tooth that had imbedded itself in Harry’s arm, out along with it.

Now released from the sword, the large reptile slithered to the ground to lie in a pile of loops and twists on the floor of the chamber. Riddle looked astonished at first, then anger suffused his features as he watched the Gryffindor climb down, only to head for the two figures on the floor again who were being watched over by the Phoenix.

Harry stumbled over to Draco’s side, collapsing to his knees as the poison from the fang began to course through his body. He reached his hand over to the bird to stroke its warm feathers.

“Thank you, Fawkes, you were fantastic! You’ll have to tell the headmaster all about it, because I don’t think I’m going to make it,” he whispered to the bird as it cocked its head sideways at him. The bird studied him for a moment before walking over to him and laid its head on Harry’s wounded arm. Harry could feel a warm, wet sensation cover his wound and when he looked down, the Phoenix had straightened back up and Harry saw the bite from the basilisk begin to heal right before his eyes.

“Of course,” Riddle murmured. “Phoenix tears heal anything. How could I have forgotten? Nevertheless, Potter, your friends there are almost gone. I can feel their souls wavering, the last little vestiges of their life forces flowing into me… What are you doing?” he sharply enquired.

Harry had followed his instincts once more. If the poison in the tooth was potent enough to kill him, a live boy, surely it was strong enough to kill one who wasn’t completely alive yet? He had yanked the book out of his pocket and, picking up the tooth he had discarded only a moment before, stabbed the diary with it. He wasn’t sure what would happen when he did this – but a pool of ink pouring out of the wounded book was not one of them.

He stabbed the book repeatedly, viciously, making sure that the venomous denture pierced every bit of the tome. He took out all of his frustration that the little book had caused him, his family, and his friends as he punctured the book again and again. He was rewarded by seeing Riddle screaming his fool head off, as he dissolved in front of Harry. The ink flowed away from the book as Draco took a huge breath of air, slowly coming to consciousness.

Harry helped his brother sit up, and Draco took in the dead serpent, Trelawney curled up in sleep next to him – snoring away loudly, the sounds echoing around the loud chamber – and the bleeding diary.

“Bloody hell, Harry, what have you been doing?” he exclaimed.

“Saving you, you idiot! What the hell happened?” Harry demanded as he went over to pick up his wand that had landed on the floor when Riddle had disappeared.

Draco looked a bit embarrassed. “Erm, can we discuss this after we get out of here? I’d really rather get home before we hash this all out.”

Harry stared at him a moment before giving in with a slight shrug. “I guess, but you have to promise to tell all when we get there!”

“I promise!” Draco insisted. The boys gathered everything else up before waking up the rumbling professor – who appeared even more batty than normal – walking her out of the chamber with nary a glance back.