Harry took a deep breath, and the air thick with dust and blood stung his lungs.
He bent down and picked up the Sorting Hat, his fingers touching its greasy fabric.
"Mr. Sorting Hat, help me... Tell me what to do?"
The hat wriggled in his hands, but it did not open its mouth to speak or sing as it usually did.
Harry only felt his palm grow heavy as something hard burst through the tip of the hat and slid into his hand.
He gripped it, the cold touch of metal spreading across his palm.
With a hard pull—
A gleaming Silver Sword appeared in his hand. Its blade was incomparably sharp, its cool sheen flowing beneath the Chamber of Secrets' dim green light.
A ruby the size of an egg was set into the hilt, and near the guard was engraved a line of tiny, elegant lettering: Godric Gryffindor.
So... the help had been here all along.
It was not some complicated spell, but the most direct kind of courage and strength—the kind that belonged to Gryffindor.
Harry tightened his grip on the hilt. It was heavy, yet strangely, it calmed his racing heart.
He cast one last glance at Lin Du's stone statue. That frozen face still seemed to carry the same calm trust.
"I can do this," he told himself.
Holding the sword in both hands, Harry forced himself to calm down. He began moving carefully, using the stone pillars as cover as he circled the blind but dangerous beast.
The Basilisk's thick tail swept through the air with a howl, smashing a stone pillar apart. Flying fragments grazed Harry's ear.
He pressed himself tightly behind another pillar and held his breath, his mind racing faster than ever before.
Professor Lin's ghostlike footwork in battle, his precise and efficient choice of spells, and that final, resolute strike...
The images flashed through Harry's mind.
He could not attack blindly. He would only have one chance.
He had to find its weak point.
He remembered Hagrid mentioning in passing that a snake's most vulnerable spot was its upper jaw...
The Basilisk charged toward the sound once more, and Harry nimbly rolled aside.
The enormous serpent's head slammed heavily into the floor, leaving Harry's feet numb from the impact.
Now!
The instant the Basilisk lifted its head and tried to locate him again, Harry unleashed every ounce of courage and speed he had. Just as Lin Du had shown him, he hesitated no longer and feared no longer.
He sprinted forward, stepped onto a fallen chunk of stone, and launched himself into the air—
He landed atop the Basilisk's enormous, slick head!
A foul, scorching breath washed over him. Beneath his feet were cold, hard scales and the blackened marks left by Fiendfyre.
The Basilisk thrashed its head wildly, trying to fling him off.
Harry clamped his legs around its neck, one hand gripping the edge of a raised scale while the other lifted the Sword of Gryffindor high.
The silver blade cut a streak of cold light through the darkness.
For Professor Lin!
Harry shouted in his heart and drove the sword down into the Basilisk's head with all his strength!
Like a knife through butter, the sword pierced its tough scales and bones with ease, plunging deep into the Basilisk's brain!
"Screee—!!!"
The Basilisk let out an ear-splitting, piercing shriek of ultimate agony. Its entire body twisted and battered the ground like it had been struck by lightning, and the Chamber of Secrets seemed ready to collapse beneath its death throes.
Harry clung desperately to the sword's hilt. Like a tiny boat in a storm, he was bucked and flung about, but he gritted his teeth and refused to let go.
Warm Basilisk blood, fiercely corrosive, sprayed over his hands and robes, burning painful white smoke from them, but he barely noticed.
After an unknown amount of time, the frenzied struggle gradually weakened.
At last, the giant serpent's massive body convulsed several times before collapsing to the ground with a crash, silent at last.
Harry slumped onto the cold floor, gasping for air.
His arms twitched faintly from overexertion, and his sleeves had been eaten through by Basilisk blood. The exposed skin stung sharply, but he could barely feel it—
He had done it.
He had really done it.
Not through luck, and not because someone else had saved him, but through his own judgment, courage, and... the trust Lin Du had placed in him, along with the sword that had appeared at just the right moment.
He struggled to his feet. His legs were still weak, but every step he took was steadier than before.
He walked around the Basilisk's mountain-like corpse and headed toward the center of the Chamber of Secrets.
He stopped before the upright statue of the silver-haired man.
The statue's expression was peaceful, even carrying a trace of Lin Du's characteristic serenity that had not yet faded, as though he were merely lost in thought rather than frozen by a curse.
Harry looked up at him, emotions churning in his green eyes.
"Professor," he said, his voice hoarse but clear.
"I did it. The Basilisk... is dead."
He paused and tightened his grip on the hilt, as if drawing more strength from the cold metal. "I didn't... betray your trust."
There was no answer, only the eternal silence of the stone statue.
The immense exhaustion, the fear that had only now caught up with him, and the complicated emotions surging up after completing his task finally broke through their dam.
Harry leaned against the cold base of the statue and slowly slid down to sit.
He carefully laid the Silver Sword across his knees, its ruby still glimmering faintly in the gloom.
He buried his face between his knees, his shoulders trembling slightly.
"Thank you," he said, as though speaking to the statue and himself at once. "Thank you for believing in me... and thank you for... standing in front of me at the end."
Just then, a soft, melodious cry sounded above his head.
The phoenix Fawkes landed lightly on Lin Du's statue's shoulder. It lowered its head and gently touched the statue's cold cheek with its beak before turning toward Harry.
Its wise black eyes watched the exhausted boy, seeming to hold understanding and comfort.
It spread its wings and shed several brilliant, pearl-like tears.
The tears fell upon the back of Harry's corroded hand. The burning pain miraculously began to ease and heal, while a gentle warmth drove away some of the cold and exhaustion.
Fawkes gave a clear cry and gently rubbed his head against Harry's sweat-damp hair. Then it took flight again, circled once, and finally settled atop the statue's head, quietly guarding it like a warm, undying lamp.
That silent comfort made Harry's nose sting.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and wiped his face roughly with his sleeve.
Just then—
From the direction of the Chamber of Secrets entrance came an urgent hissing in Parseltongue!
It was followed by the scraping sound of the stone door sliding open, along with hurried footsteps and cries of alarm drawing closer.
"Harry! Merlin's trousers, you really are here!" Ron's shrill voice rang out first, filled with disbelief and panic.
"Oh, my God... Th-this is..." Hermione gasped.
"Potter!" Professor McGonagall's stern cry carried undisguised horror.
Harry lifted his head toward the sound and looked at the entrance.
Ron and Hermione were charging in at the front, both utterly pale. Professor McGonagall followed close behind, her lips pressed into a bloodless line, the wand clenched in her hand revealing the turmoil within her.
And Snape, dressed in black robes like a moving shadow, swiftly swept his gaze across the entire Chamber of Secrets—
Past the Basilisk's enormous corpse, past Harry and the Silver Sword on his knees, until at last his unfathomable black eyes locked on the silent, silver-haired figure behind Harry, petrified beneath the phoenix's protection. His pupils suddenly contracted.
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