The Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets

Harry's eyelashes fluttered, and a cold sensation spread from her cheek through her body.

When she opened her eyes, towering snake-shaped stone pillars came into view, casting twisted shadows in the eerie green firelight.

The damp air reeked of decay, and the distant sound of dripping water ticked like a countdown.

Harry's throat tightened, and her fingers dug deep into the moss between the stones.

This was the Chamber of Secrets where Ginny had nearly died. She knew this place all too well. Back in her second year, he had fought the Basilisk here with his life on the line and had nearly died.

That was also when Voldemort's most difficult-to-find Horcrux, Tom Riddle's Diary, had been destroyed.

Her heart pounded. Through a strange turn of events, she had achieved her goal of reaching the Chamber of Secrets in the easiest way possible, but now there was no phoenix, no Sorting Hat, and certainly no Sword of Gryffindor.

Trembling, she reached into her robe pocket and grasped only air.

Even her holly wand was gone.

Harry vaguely remembered that Ron had thrown the wand off target, and it had landed at the Troll's feet. Before she could retrieve it, the Basilisk had knocked her unconscious.

This was the worst possible situation.

Harry bit through her lower lip, and a rusty taste spread across her tongue. Fear coiled around her heart like a snake, but she forced herself to stand. Her red hair fell over her shoulders, a faint flicker of flame in the gloom.

"Open!" Harry shouted hoarsely at the stone door, her voice echoing through the vast Chamber of Secrets.

The heavy stone door did not budge, as though mocking her futile effort.

Just then, a faint rustling came from deep within the corridor.

It was the sound of scales scraping against stone, drawing closer and faster.

The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood on end. She spun around, and in the flickering torchlight, a pair of golden slit pupils emerged from the darkness like two evil full moons.

Run!

Harry's legs reacted before her brain did. The torn hem of her robes flew behind her, and her bare feet slipped on the wet stone slabs, nearly sending her tumbling several times. She could feel the foul breath behind her drawing closer, the hiss of a flickering forked tongue almost brushing her ear.

Just as she came within reach of the stone door, a thick snake tail whipped toward her and wrapped tightly around her waist. Harry was lifted off the ground and slammed back-first into a stone pillar, all the air driven from her lungs.

"Let's see," the Basilisk said with a slimy hiss, the tip of his tail lifting the torn edge of Harry's robe. "What has the great Chosen One, Harry Potter, become now?"

Rough scales scraped against the skin of Harry's thigh. Her uniform trousers tore to shreds from the friction and fluttered to the ground, exposing her fair, slender calves. The icy tail pushed deeper through the tear, and when it touched a more private area, Harry's emerald-green eyes blazed with fury.

"Get away!" She drove a fist into the Basilisk's eyelid, feeling scales crack beneath her knuckles.

The moment the Basilisk loosened his grip in pain, she yanked out the offending tail and flung it away like a piece of rotten meat.

"You're not the Basilisk." Harry backed away, panting. Snow-white skin showed through her torn clothes, and the girl's slender body looked especially fragile in the dim light.

As though a little force was all it would take to snap her waist.

The sight was so tempting that the Basilisk could not help flicking his tongue, but the shadow Harry had once cast over him was still too great, and he dared not act rashly.

The Basilisk's golden pupils narrowed dangerously to slits. "I am the Basilisk."

"Stop pretending." Harry wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and suddenly smiled a sharp smile. "Voldemort."

The air froze in an instant.

The Basilisk's body coiled around her with incredible speed, pinning Harry firmly between himself and the stone pillar. The tip of his tail forced her chin up, making her face those deadly golden eyes. A forked tongue licked a wound on her face, leaving a wet, cold trail.

"Clever girl." The Basilisk's voice suddenly changed, taking on Tom Riddle's distinctive elegant tone. "But how did you recognize me? Hmm?"

Despite the agonizing pain, Harry curled her lips into a smile.

She could feel the human heart beneath his cold scales pounding wildly. The realization gave her a flicker of twisted pleasure amid her fear.

So even a devil could be nervous.

"Does it matter how I recognized you?" Harry's voice rang unusually clear in the damp Chamber of Secrets, every syllable as sharp as an icicle.

The Basilisk...

No, Voldemort!

It suddenly let out a raspy laugh, like rusty metal scraping over stone. The muscles of its serpentine face twisted into a bizarre curve, exposing its gleaming white fangs.

Harry's back pressed against the cold stone pillar, her nails digging deep into her palms. Seven years of life-and-death struggles had taught her to read the pure malice in that smile.

If this Voldemort really followed me from my world, where is this world's Voldemort? Her thoughts raced. Am I still a Horcrux? If two Voldemorts exist at the same time...

"Let me guess." The forked tongue nearly brushed her ear, and blood-scented breath washed over her neck. "You must be wondering why I'm here, and whether the 'me' from this world is still around?"

Harry's pupils contracted slightly.

She was not surprised that he had seen through her thoughts.

They were like two mirrors facing each other, each knowing the other's mind all too well.

She remained silent, the fury in her green eyes concealing the fear deep within.

The snake's body slowly tightened, its scales scraping her bare skin and leaving thin trails of blood. Voldemort's voice suddenly grew gentle, yet more dangerous. "I'm curious too, why I opened my eyes after death and found myself in this snake." The tip of his tail brushed the lightning-shaped scar on her forehead. "But that doesn't matter."

Harry's breathing quickened.

She could feel the fluctuations of his magic.

This really was the Voldemort who had died together with her, his soul carrying that familiar dark resonance.

"Now..." The snake's head suddenly drew close, her pale face reflected in its golden eyes. "I have a new body, and I've found another 'me.'"

The Basilisk's fangs brushed her cheek, so gently that they did not even pierce the girl's tender skin. Its forked tongue slid across Harry's cheek, like a lover's intimate caress. "Tell me, could two Voldemorts... overthrow the entire Wizarding World?"

The air in the Chamber of Secrets seemed to freeze.

The distant dripping grew deafening, and Harry could hear her own heart pounding against her ribs.

Two Voldemorts—the fear that possibility brought was deadlier than the Basilisk's fangs. Her gaze swept the surroundings, searching for any possible weapon or exit, but Voldemort immediately tightened his grip and bit her shoulder in warning.

Through the sharp pain, Harry suddenly laughed. "Then guess... if Dumbledore found out, which one would he want to kill first?"