The Chamber of Secrets (Hermione x Male Reader)

Questions Unanswered

Y/N gripped the sword's hilt tightly, waiting as the basilisk lined itself up, baring it's fangs at him. Then, it lunged—its aim true.

Y/N threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpents mouth—

Y/N was about to yell out of victory, until he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.

Y/N fell to the floor. He gripped the gang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm, but he knew it was too late. He dropped the fang, feeling the white-hot pain spreading slowly and steadily from his wound. His vision went foggy, the Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull color.

A patch of scarlet swam past, and Y/N heard the soft flatter of claws beside him.

"Fawkes," Y/N said thickly. "Tell me you got that on camera..."

He felt the bird lay it's beautiful head in the spot where the serpents fang pierced him. He heard echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of him.

"You're dead, Y/N L/N," Riddle's voice said above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, L/N? He's crying."

Y/N felt Fawkes' tears trickle down onto his wound.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Y/N L/N. Take your time, I'm in no hurry."

Y/N felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"Although, I will tell you one thing before you die, L/N," Riddle's distant voice said. He watched as Riddle crouched down beside him, bending his head to look into his eyes. "Your father... was probably my brother."

Riddle let out a cold, crazed laugh. If Y/N could react, he would probably yelling at him that he wasn't. That there was simply no way that his father was Voldemort's brother.

He wanted to say something, but all that came out his mouth was a low groan.

"What was that?" Riddle grinned, standing back up. "Oh, how exhilarating it was when you told me your father was killed by Voldemort. By me. You see, Y/N, as much as I loved my dear, sweet brother, I hated him. Hated how kind he was, hated that he loved Mudbloods, hated that he rejected me. But when you said I killed him... it felt so good."

Y/N wanted to lunge at him. To beat him for speaking that way about his father. But he couldn't, as he was dying. Although, it didn't feel too bad.

The pain was slowly leaving him, it felt... nice...

But was he really dying? Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back to focus. Y/N's head have a little shake before he finally raised it, looking at Fawkes who was still crying on his wound—except that there was no wound—

"Get away, bird," Riddle's voice said suddenly. "Get away from him—I said, get away—"

He looked over at Riddle. Riddle was pointing Y/N's wand at Fawkes; there was a loud bang, and Fawkes took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.

"Phoenix tears..." Riddle said quietly, staring at Y/N's arms. "Of course... healing powers... I forgot..."

He looked at Y/N's face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. We are family but... well, blood hardly matters now. Goodbye, dear nephew of mine..."

He raised the wand—

Then, Fawkes soared back overhead and something fell on Y/N's lap—the diary.