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The cold, damp air carried a thousand years of dust and the distinctive stench of serpents into Draco's nostrils.
He followed behind the ghostly young Dark Lord formed from the diary, stumbling through the tunnel littered with broken bones and slick moss.
The levitated Ginny Weasley floated beside Riddle like a lifeless object.
The walls of the pipe were slimy, and occasionally Draco felt cold droplets fall from the cracks in the rock above, striking his hair and neck and sending a shiver through him.
The tunnel sloped downward and finally opened out.
They stood at the edge of an enormous, dimly lit cavern. Before them was a broad underground lake, its black water dead and still, giving off a nauseating stench.
Further off stood a colossal stone statue of Slytherin, carved from the cave itself, its aged face wearing a cold majesty, its open mouth leading into unfathomable darkness, as if通往 another realm of the dead.
The entire space was permeated with an ancient, powerful, and pure dark force that pressed down on Draco until he could barely breathe.
"Look, Draco." Tom Riddle's voice echoed in the empty cavern, carrying a kind of intoxicated boastfulness.
"This is Slytherin's true legacy. Not the lofty talk at banquets, not the Galleons piled up in Gringotts... but power. The representation of the purest, most ancient power."
He spread his arms as if embracing this eerie architecture. "Your father... Lucius. He always liked to talk about 'pure blood glory,' but did he ever show you a sight as... magnificent as this?"
Draco's face was ashen, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. This sight was less magnificent than it was soul shaking terror.
He was indeed awed, not just by the fear of the scene before him, but by the fear of the dark history behind this power, the history his family had once been trapped in and unable to escape.
Yet in this extreme fear, another image intruded unbidden into Draco's mind.
Last night, when Potter had snatched the diary from his hands, those emerald green eyes had held not only determination, but also a kind of almost redirected worry. He had said, "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt..."
An absurd and powerful thought grew in the depths of his heart.
In this moment when the Dark Lord was showing him absolute power, Draco Malfoy, a former Death Eater, a Malfoy, was actually beginning to desperately, humbly hope for the arrival of the Saviour with the bright green eyes. To hope that he could once again work a miracle and defeat this demon.
A faint sound of fabric rubbing came from the direction of the pipe they had come through.
Riddle turned his head sharply, a flicker of surprise in his black eyes, quickly turning into even stronger interest. "Ah... our guest has arrived so soon." He said softly, like a snake flicking its tongue.
Harry Potter, like a light tearing through the darkness, appeared at the entrance of the cavern, gasping for breath.
He held his wand raised, the light at its tip wavering in the gloom, illuminating a face mixed with sweat, dirt, and absolute determination. His gaze first locked onto the floating, lifeless Ginny, then quickly swept over Draco, and finally, like the sharpest blade, stabbed straight at Tom Riddle.
"Let her go, Riddle!" Harry's voice was exceptionally clear in the empty hall, carrying unquestionable resolve.
Riddle let out a soft, chilling laugh, his gaze moving between Harry and Draco with a probing malice.
He had clearly seen in Draco's memories those scenes of mocking and taunting Harry from a previous life. Arrogant as he was, he would never doubt his own Legilimency.
He could not understand why Harry's gaze toward Draco now, besides concern for a companion, seemed to hide some more complex emotion he could not fully decipher.
It was absolutely not the look one gave an ordinary classmate, or even an enemy.
"How touching, Potter." Riddle said slowly. He suddenly reached out and yanked the frozen Draco in front of him, his cold fingers clamping around Draco's slender neck like iron pincers!
"For your... 'friend'? Or... something else?" He speculated maliciously, feeling Draco's violent trembling under his hand and Harry's body instantly going taut.
Draco went rigid, the cold touch and the threat of death leaving him unable to breathe, only able to let out a faint whimper. He did not dare struggle. The fear of the Dark Lord branded into his soul from his previous life overwhelmed everything.
"Let him go!" Harry's voice rose with anger, flames burning in his green eyes.
"As you wish." Riddle suddenly released his grip, even giving Draco a light push that sent him stumbling onto the broken stones beside them. "Killing you does not require holding a... frightened little Malfoy hostage."
His tone was contemptuous, as if Draco were merely an insignificant tool. "That would be too... beneath me, wouldn't it?"
The moment he was free, Draco scrambled backward until his back hit the cold rock wall, then collapsed, gasping for air, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would shatter.
Riddle turned toward the depths of the Chamber and opened his mouth, letting out once more that scalp crawling, commanding hiss!
A heavier, more hair raising sound of scales scraping came from deep within the hall.
Accompanied by a hissing, whispering sound as if from the depths of hell, an enormous shadow, thick as the trunk of a century old oak, slowly slid from the open mouth of the Slytherin statue.
It was too large. Just the head that emerged was taller than Harry entire. It was pitch black all over, its scales like hard armour, reflecting a greasy sheen in the dim light. The basilisk!
"Look, Potter. Salazar Slytherin's pet. This is what true style looks like!" Riddle's voice carried feverish excitement. "Meet your death!"
"Hiss."
The basilisk received its clear command. Its huge head turned toward Harry and charged at him!
Harry, relying on his agile form and the nimbleness trained by Quidditch, narrowly dodged between the enormous stone pillars. The basilisk's heavy body crashed into the pillars, sending debris flying, and the entire Chamber trembled.
Then, a fiery red shadow shot in from the pipe entrance like lightning!
It was Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix! It let out a clear, piercing cry and dove at the basilisk without hesitation, its sharp beak and talons striking viciously at those enormous, yellow eyes!
"No!" Riddle let out a roar of fury.
But it was too late. The basilisk let out a painful, earth shaking shriek, green pus and blood spraying from its blinded eyes. It thrashed its enormous body wildly, churning the black lake water and sending up waves of foul spray.
Now it could not see.
"Smell..." Riddle calmed down and hissed orders in Parseltongue. "Kill the boy! Find him by scent!"
The blinded basilisk grew even more frenzied. Relying on smell and heat sensing, it let out a furious roar, its huge head snapping toward Harry's direction, its massive jaws opening wide as it lunged with a stench filled wind!
"Potter!" Draco cried out in alarm, fear temporarily making him forget his own situation.
Harry reacted with incredible speed, turning and running back toward the pipe they had come through! The basilisk's blind pursuit followed close behind. Its enormous body squeezed into the relatively narrow pipe, producing a deafening roar of scales scraping rock. The whole cavern shook, and debris and dust rained down.
Draco huddled under the rock wall, listening to the earth shattering chase from within the pipe, Harry's footsteps, the basilisk's frenzied crashing and hissing, his heart gripped as if by an invisible hand. Every second felt like a century.
Riddle stood not far away, watching it all, and actually wore that cold, all controlling smile again.
He even "kindly" comforted the terrified out of his wits Draco, his voice carrying a chilling affability.
"Don't worry. I don't need you to deal with Potter." He said slowly, as if enjoying a drama that had nothing to do with him. "How could I easily kill a... loyal servant who has just proven his worth? Right, Draco?"
Draco's mouth was dry and bitter. He made futile swallowing motions but could not produce even a trace of saliva. He heard himself answer in a voice as faint as a thread, trembling.
"Yes... yes, my Lord."
He did not dare disobey, did not even dare show the slightest worry for Harry.
He could only grovel at the feet of darkness like the most lowly servant, praying for the Saviour's redemption.
He did not know how long passed before the suffocating scraping and roaring approached again!
Bang!
Harry's figure was "spat" out of the pipe like a cannonball, crashing hard to the ground and rolling several times before stopping. He was covered in sticky filth, his robes almost reduced to strips, his face scraped, looking utterly bedraggled, but he was alive! He struggled to his feet, clutching his wand tightly.
Immediately after, the blinded basilisk also burst from the pipe with a roar, charging madly toward Harry's direction by scent!
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco spotted a loose, fist sized stone near his hand.
A mad idea flashed through his mind.
He pretended to cower backward in extreme fear, his body "accidentally" hitting the rock wall behind him, and at the same time, his elbow, with extreme subtlety, pushed the stone with all his strength in a direction away from Harry but near the side of the basilisk's head!
The stone rolled out with a clatter, hitting another stone pillar with a small but clear crack!
The basilisk, fully focused on chasing Harry, had exceptionally keen hearing. This sudden sound from the side made its huge head jerk sideways for an instant, and its pursuit faltered for a very brief moment!
It was that less than one second pause!
Harry seized this fleeting opportunity, lunging to the side and dodging the basilisk's deadly charge, which had deviated slightly from its path because of the head turn! The basilisk's enormous fangs grazed the hem of his robes, bringing a gust of foul wind!
"Useless struggle, Potter!" Riddle sneered, concentrating on controlling the basilisk.
He did not seem to notice Draco's "accidental" little movement, or if he did, he took it as a frightened child's collision in panic.
The basilisk grew even more furious. It adjusted direction and charged at Harry again! This time, Harry was forced into a relatively narrow corner, his escape route seemingly sealed!
It looked as though the basilisk's open jaws were about to swallow Harry!
"Fawkes!" Harry shouted.
The phoenix Fawkes, like a red flash of lightning, dove down again. This time, it dropped a worn, patched wizarding hat. The Sorting Hat!
The hat landed accurately in Harry's hands. Without thinking, Harry thrust his hand into the hat and pulled out a gleaming silver sword, its hilt set with a ruby the size of an egg. The Sword of Gryffindor!
Just as the basilisk lowered its head to bite again, Harry did not dodge. Instead, he used all his strength, gripped the sword with both hands, and thrust upward with all his might!
"Pfft!"
The sword pierced precisely and deeply into the basilisk's upper jaw, almost through its brain!
The basilisk let out a deafening shriek of extreme agony, its enormous body thrashing and pounding wildly, smashing the surrounding pillars and ground to pieces! Dark green blood poured from its wound like a fountain!
But at the same time, one of its broken, scimitar like fangs, in its death throes, sank deep into Harry's arm!
Harry let out a stifled groan and staggered back, his face instantly turning as white as paper. He released the sword, leaving it in the basilisk's body, and clutched the wound on his arm where black blood kept seeping, swaying on his feet.
The basilisk's struggles gradually weakened. Finally, its enormous body crashed to the ground and moved no more.
The smile on Riddle's face froze, turning into disbelief and fury! "No!"
Harry staggered, barely able to stand. He dragged his poisoned body, step by step, painfully toward the unconscious Ginny.
He walked very slowly, each step extremely difficult, his right hand pressed tightly over his left arm, dark red blood seeping continuously between his fingers and dripping onto the rocky floor.
His face was an ominous deathly grey, his breathing rapid and shallow, as if it might stop at any moment.
But he was alive.
He reached the unconscious Ginny, crouched down with difficulty, checked her condition, confirmed she was still breathing. Then he raised his head, his gaze passing over Riddle and landing on Draco, slumped against the rock wall.
Those emerald green eyes, even on the edge of death, were still clear, carrying a complex, indescribable emotion Draco could not understand.
He seemed to want to say something to Draco, his lips moving, but no clear sound came out, only more laboured breathing.
Riddle looked at Harry in this state and let out a cold, triumphant sneer. "Basilisk venom works fast, Potter. Soon you will feel life draining from that filthy shell. I would guess you have about three minutes..."
Harry seemed not to hear his mockery, or perhaps he no longer had the strength to pay attention. His gaze was still fixed deeply on Draco, holding worry, concern, and a kind of... farewell.
Then, in Riddle's smug and Draco's despairing gaze, Harry did something no one expected.
With his last ounce of strength, he suddenly drove the thing he had been clutching tightly in his right hand, a long, ivory pale basilisk fang still dripping dark green venom from its tip, hard into the open black diary lying beside Ginny!
"No!!!"
Tom Riddle let out a scream no human could produce, full of extreme pain, fury, and disbelief! His handsome phantom began to twist and deform violently, like a wax figure thrown into fire, sizzling, black ink pouring from him and evaporating madly!
He reached out, grasping uselessly at the air, as if trying to seize the life that was dissipating. His black eyes were full of mad resentment and final unwillingness.
Draco stared, dumbfounded, his mind blank.
He could never have imagined that Harry Potter, at this age, at the point of death from fatal basilisk venom, could still have such courage and clarity of mind to destroy this Horcrux of Voldemort!
Riddle's phantom, in an even more piercing, inhuman wail, finally collapsed completely, turning into a wisp of black smoke and vanishing without a trace. The diary, as if corroded by strong acid, quickly turned black, curled up, and finally became a small pile of useless ash.
In the cavern, only Harry's heavy, laboured breathing, Ginny's faint breathing, and Draco's own drumming heartbeat remained.
Voldemort... was gone. At least this fragment, completely gone.
The immense fear receded like a tide, leaving behind the exhaustion of survival and an indescribable shock.
Draco practically scrambled up from the ground, stumbling toward Harry.
Harry finally could not hold on. His body went limp and he fell backward.
Draco caught him in a panic, letting him lean against his chest. Harry's body was burning hot, yet trembling uncontrollably. The wound on his left arm was still oozing black blood, his face frighteningly ashen.
"...Harry?" Draco's voice carried a sob he did not even notice.
Just then, Ginny let out a faint moan and slowly opened her eyes. She was confused at first, then saw Harry, barely alive, leaning against Draco, and the enormous basilisk corpse nearby.
She understood everything in an instant and burst into loud sobs. "Harry! I'm sorry! It's all my fault! I was controlled..."
Harry, leaning in Draco's arms, his breath faint, first turned with difficulty toward Ginny and said in a voice barely audible, brokenly, "It's all right... it was... my fault..."
Then he turned his head with difficulty, those emerald green eyes already beginning to lose focus, gazing deeply, deeply into Draco's face so close to his.
He seemed to use his last strength to try to say something, his lips trembling, but in the end not a single word came out.
Only that deep look, containing too many emotions Draco could not understand in that moment, but would chew over again and again in the long years to come.
Then the light in Harry's eyes dimmed rapidly.
In this moment of despair, Fawkes's clear cry sounded again.
It circled down and landed beside Harry, lowered its head, and large, pearl like tears rolled from its beautiful eyes, falling precisely onto the terrible wound on Harry's arm.
A miracle happened.
The charred marks of the basilisk venom faded at a visible speed, the wound healing rapidly, leaving only a faint pink new scar.
The ominous deathly grey faded from Harry's face, replaced by a faint flush. He gasped in a breath, like a drowning man surfacing, and opened his eyes, panting.
His emerald green eyes, like a forest after rain, were clear and full of life.
The first thing he saw was Draco's pale, tear streaked face so close to his.
Harry blinked, then a weak but real smile spread across his lips. He raised his uninjured hand and somewhat clumsily wiped the tears from Draco's cheek with his sleeve.
"I'm all right now..." His voice was still a little hoarse, but full of the relief of survival.
Only then did Draco realise he had been crying. He tried to turn his head away in embarrassment, but Harry stopped him.
Harry reached into the collar of his dirty shirt and pulled out the thin silver chain, at the end of which hung the small bottle glinting with golden light. The Felix Felicis Draco had given him.
He lowered his head, but his eyes remained on Draco's face.
Draco saw him gently, reverently kiss the cold glass.
Then he raised his head, and in those bright green eyes again, there was an unprecedented, gentle and burning light, as he said softly,
"It seems..." Harry's voice was still a little hoarse, but carried a smile, "your luck... finally shared a little with me after all."
Draco froze.
In that moment, the way Harry had looked up at him while kissing the Felix Felicis, the too direct, too focused light in his eyes, struck Draco's chaotic thoughts like lightning. A strange, unsettling sense of wrongness surged up.
A faint, almost impossible suspicion crept into his mind, only to be immediately, panic stricken, forcibly denied.
No... impossible. That was too absurd.