The phoenix descended with graceful majesty, landing lightly on Harry's shoulder. It dropped the tattered Sorting Hat onto the ground with an air of disdain, as if carrying such a filthy item had tested its patience. Settling warmly against Harry's cheek, the magnificent bird ceased its song, its resolute gaze fixed on Riddle.
"A phoenix?" Riddle said, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Fawkes," Harry greeted with a faint smile. The phoenix perched proudly on his shoulder, stretching its claws as though asserting its dignity.
"What did it bring?" Loki asked, eyeing the worn-out object the phoenix had discarded.
"Can't you tell? It's the Sorting Hat we use every term," Augustus said, chuckling knowingly. Sure enough, the familiar, dirty, wrinkled, and patched hat lay lifelessly at Harry's feet.
Riddle laughed mockingly. "Ah, so your reinforcements have arrived: a singing bird and a battered hat. Dumbledore must have great confidence in you. Did he send these to cheer you on? A phoenix to play music and the Sorting Hat to recite poems? Is he already planning your victory banquet?" His tone dripped with derision, his eyes gleaming with contempt.
"You were doomed from the start. With Lord Augustus here, no matter what you do, defeat is inevitable," Ron shot back, glaring at Riddle as though envisioning his imminent downfall.
Riddle sneered. "Ah, you place great faith in your Lord Augustus. Crushing the strong and extinguishing geniuses has always been my favorite pastime. In my presence, everyone is but an ant."
With a cold smile, Riddle clapped his hands and turned toward the statue of Salazar Slytherin, hissing in Parseltongue. Harry understood his words: "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
As Augustus stood calmly, the colossal stone face of Salazar Slytherin began to shift. Its mouth opened wider and wider, transforming into a vast black void. Deep within the darkness, something stirred, slithering upwards with an ominous rustling.
"Now, Loki, take Harry and Ginny to the chamber's entrance. Immediately," Augustus ordered, his tone brooking no argument.
Loki hesitated, glancing at Augustus's grave expression. Clenching his teeth, he refrained from protesting and hurriedly led Harry and Ron, who was supporting the unconscious Ginny, toward the chamber's exit.
Riddle raised his wand, his eyes flashing with urgency as he aimed at Harry. "Incarcerous!" A blue light shot toward him.
Augustus's silver wand flicked, and a towering wall of flame erupted across the chamber. The spell was absorbed effortlessly, leaving no trace. "Your opponent is me now," Augustus said deliberately, his robe billowing as something massive emerged from the statue's mouth.
Closing his eyes briefly, Augustus activated his mystical vision, allowing him to perceive his surroundings with flawless clarity. From the gaping maw of the statue, a jet-black basilisk slithered forth, its sheer size overwhelming. Its dagger-like fangs dripped venom as black as ink, and its golden eyes glinted with lethal intent.
Raising his wand, Augustus unleashed a cone of scorching flames, which coalesced into a massive fiery hand. The flaming hand smashed down on the basilisk's flat head with overwhelming force, throwing the creature off course. It crashed onto the stone floor with a resounding thud, scorched scales scattering and revealing patches of raw, burned flesh.
The Burning Hand, a first-level spell, achieved devastating power under Augustus's immense magical reserves, rivaling even Loki's fourth-level explosive magic. The basilisk, shaking its massive head, fixed its ruined gaze on Augustus with chilling malice before charging again.
Riddle hissed commands in Parseltongue, urging the serpent forward. "Crucio!" he cried, sending a yellow beam toward Augustus. But Augustus summoned a spinning wind shield that shredded the curse effortlessly. Meanwhile, the basilisk closed in, less than ten meters away.
Ascending into the air, Augustus invoked a complex magical array beneath him. Suddenly, the chamber was bathed in the intense glow of a silent explosion. The basilisk shrieked in agony as its golden eyes bled, and its body was marred by deep wounds that oozed black blood.
The Solar Burst, an eighth-level spell, blinded all creatures within its radius. For the basilisk, the blindness was irreversible, even if it managed to escape the area. The spell also inflicted devastating damage, particularly on creatures sensitive to sunlight.
Opening his silver eyes, Augustus regarded the basilisk with satisfaction. Its primary weapon—its deadly gaze—was now neutralized. Victory was within reach.
For the first time, Riddle's smug demeanor faltered, replaced by a flicker of unease. He hadn't anticipated Augustus's strength or his precise dismantling of the basilisk's greatest asset.
Blinded and disoriented, the basilisk thrashed wildly. Fawkes swooped in, circling its head and pecking at its scaly nose, drawing more black blood from its ruined eyes.
Seizing the opportunity, Augustus raised his wand and summoned an ancient, primordial force. From the ground beneath the basilisk erupted a searing storm of ash and fire. Caught off guard, the basilisk writhed in the inferno, its anguished cries echoing through the chamber. Encased in fiery pillars, the once-mighty creature's struggles waned until it was reduced to smoldering ash.
The Infernal Cloud, another eighth-level spell, served as a decisive finishing move. Its fiery enclosure left no escape, ensuring complete destruction. Though the spell taxed Augustus's reserves, the cost was worth eliminating the thousand-year-old beast.
Fawkes let out a triumphant cry, celebrating the fall of the basilisk. A millennium of life had ended in an instant, reduced to ash—a testament to the cruel and fleeting nature of fate.
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