Kickbacks are kickbacks, Riddle. What difference does it make whether you take one or I do? You're already so old—can't you let me have this? I'm still a child, after all!
"Shut up! Hiss, hiss, hiss! (Kill him!)"
Voldemort's rage boiled over. He shouted the first part at Jerry in ordinary speech; the rest was in Parseltongue, and there was no question who it was meant for.
A gurgling rose from the edge of the Black Lake. A massive creature climbed out of the water—the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets!
"He really brought the Basilisk!"
Jerry hurriedly shut his eyes in fright. He sensed the Basilisk's magic and dodged its attacks.
"Sectumsempra!"
An invisible force shot from the tip of his Wand, slicing toward the Basilisk like a silent, razor-sharp blade.
There was no sound of flesh being cut. Instead came a harsh clang, as though a sword had struck an iron plate.
Damn it! Jerry cursed inwardly. Sectumsempra would only work if he aimed for the Basilisk's eyes or cast it into its mouth.
"Stop struggling, Jerry. Your Spells are useless against it! Hand over the Life-Soul Potion, and I'll call the Basilisk off!"
Jerry had no time to answer Voldemort. The Basilisk's relentless attacks left him no room to think.
"Useless. It's useless!" The hoarse voice came from every direction, trying to distract him.
No choice. Animals of the Forbidden Forest, you'll have to fend for yourselves! Jerry tightened his grip on his Wand.
"Protego Diabolica!"
Jerry raised his arm with a fluid motion, sweeping his Wand through a graceful arc before him.
A ring of deep-blue magical energy spread beneath his feet.
With a low hum, blue Fiendfyre erupted from the ring like a raging beast. The flames surged higher and higher until they engulfed Jerry