— — — — — —
Under the stunned gaze of the students, hundreds of statues and armours marched out of the castle in perfect unison.
The basilisk, now blinded, had grown even more frenzied. Yet its cold-blooded instincts kept it calm enough to remain the apex predator it was. This created a strange contradiction—one moment it went berserk, lashing out at everything around it to vent its rage and pain, and the next it would go eerily still, lying flat on the ground and relying only on sound and scent to track Tom.
The flames licking at its scales were an annoyance, but nothing serious. To a creature like that, ordinary fire was hardly a threat.
Tom kept fending off its sudden strikes half-heartedly, simply biding his time until the statues and suits of armor fully joined the fight.
Professor McGonagall had once scribbled this spell into her notes, and Tom had been itching for a chance to try it. Today, the opportunity had practically walked into his lap.
This army was considered one of Hogwarts' ultimate trump cards. In theory, only Headmaster Dumbledore and Acting Headmistress McGonagall should have been able to wield it.
So… had Tom just outshone them both?
Dodging another snapping lunge and whipping his wand to smack the basilisk's massive head away, Tom couldn't help but think about it.
And truth be told, right now, McGonagall was practically drooling with envy. She had wanted to unleash this spell herself earlier while rushing over, but she'd hesitated—and now Tom had beaten her to it.
With the guardians she had stationed at the gates pulled away to the battlefield, she had no choice but to gather the other professors to watch over the younger students instead.
As for Tom's safety? She wasn't too worried. He wasn't one of those hot-headed Gryffindors—if he dared to take this on, he must have had his own plan. Still, once this was all over, she was absolutely going to give him a thorough scolding.
...
Meanwhile, many of the smarter students had run upstairs, gathering at balconies and windows for a better view of the fight.
Hermione, Daphne, and Astoria, on the other hand, weren't too concerned. They had known about Tom's plan to confront the basilisk for some time, and they'd already mastered the anti-gaze charms. None of them believed the monster could pose a real threat to him.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The statues and armours marched straight through the Fiendfyre, raising greatswords and fists as they charged into battle with the serpent.
Tom didn't stay idle either—his wand danced through the air like a general's command banner.
"Move!" "Stop!"
"Attack!" "Hold Position!"
"Wait. I'll heal and buff you!"
For a moment, it felt like he was playing Warcraft III again—buffing, healing, and managing units all at once.
Attack armours got heavier for more power, evasive ones lighter for speed, and the repair charm worked like a healer's spell.
Stone statues turned into solid iron, their durability skyrocketing. The basilisk's tail slammed one into the ground hard enough to leave a crater, but couldn't shatter it. Within seconds, the damage knitted itself back together.
The watching students were fired up, blood rushing with excitement.
It was just so damn elegant.
Tom stood at the center like a commander of legions, weaving simple spells into flawless combinations. To the spectators, it looked almost doable—as if they could step in and pull it off themselves.
But in their hearts they knew better. Keeping that many spells active at once, coordinating them perfectly while controlling an army of armours? Just thinking about it made their heads ache.
...
"Wahoooo! Riddle, it's okay now because I'm here!"
The grotesque stone gargoyle with the dripping mouth let out a ridiculous shout as it leapt two meters over the fire wall and slammed its massive fist into the basilisk's head.
Thud!
The heavy impact made even Tom's teeth ache. The serpent's body went limp, collapsing flat onto the ground.
"Hey not the head! One more hit there and I swear I'll give you a full-body spa with dungbombs!" Tom shouted.
"Huh?! I'm helping you here!" the gargoyle grumbled, turning to glare at him.
"Not like that. If you crush its skull, what's left for me to fight?"
"…Oh." The gargoyle paused, suddenly thoughtful.
If it killed the basilisk too quickly, it would just have to go back to standing guard again.
"You're right. I'll hold back a little," it said seriously, nodding to Tom. "Slytherins really do know how to scheme."
Tom's face darkened.
He gives a helpful tip, and still gets insulted? Fine, this stupid rock wasn't escaping that dungbomb bath later.
While they bickered, the basilisk recovered enough to thrash wildly again, smashing into statues and flinging them back several meters.
The statues retaliated with relentless punches, though they only struck the serpent's body. The basilisk hissed in pain, but the blows weren't fatal.
"..."
Tom hadn't expected the gargoyle to show up, much less fight this hard. The basilisk's defense and strength alone were more than most wizards could ever handle.
He quickly checked the zodiac palace in his study space, making sure nothing was out of place. When everything seemed fine, he finally let out a breath of relief.
Apparently the trial still counted the gargoyle as his summoned ally, part of his own strength.
Still, to make sure it didn't steal the kill, Tom had a few suits of armor haul the gargoyle out of the battlefield. The basilisk was already more dead than alive, its breath shallow and uneven.
"Hey! I wasn't done yet!" the gargoyle shouted, indignant.
"Next time. I promise I'll let you have fun next time," Tom brushed it off, hurrying forward and raising his wand high.
Crack! Crack!
Hundreds of armours and statues shifted their weapons in unison, every blade and club reshaping into a spear. With one thunderous thrust, they pierced the basilisk's armored skin and heaved upward.
The fifty-meter serpent was lifted into the air like a giant skewer.
But it no longer had the strength to resist.
"Expecto Patronum."
Silver light burst from Tom, spreading out behind him and coalescing into the towering silhouette of a giant holding a longsword.
With a fierce shout, he brought his wand down. To the stunned eyes of every student, the phantom blade fell as well—one clean stroke.
The basilisk's head flew. Blood erupted like a fountain, gushing from the severed neck.
For a moment, silence. Then the courtyard shook with thunderous cheers.
"He did it! Riddle won!"
"He actually killed a basilisk! Merlin's beard, that's a XXXXX magical creature—just looking at it should kill you!"
"That last spell—what even was that? It was incredible!"
"It seems like Patronus Charm, but it summoned a giant with a sword!"
"It's sooooo cool!"
House rivalries and old grudges were forgotten in an instant. Every student roared for Tom, their hearts pounding with excitement. It felt unreal, like a myth brought to life—a hero truly slaying a dragon.
Of course, the most ecstatic of all were the Slytherins. Tom's followers were utterly spellbound, no longer just loyal but worshipful.
Zabini, Nott, and others stood on tables inside the castle, setting off fireworks and shouting at the top of their lungs:
"See that? Tom is the hero of Hogwarts!"
Even if Voldemort himself returned from the grave, they would stand by Tom without hesitation. Not because of loyalty—but because they believed he was invincible now.
---
The flames forming the ring of light around the battlefield dimmed as Usaki received Tom's signal and withdrew back to the Forbidden Forest. With the basilisk confirmed dead, the heads of house were no longer bound by the barrier and rushed over at once.
McGonagall arrived first. She was smiling, but her voice was sharp with anger.
"Riddle! Do you have any idea how reckless that was? That was a basilisk—the King of Serpents, alive for a thousand years! And you dared to fight it alone?"
"Professor…" Tom shrank back a little, adopting a meek tone. "I wasn't alone. Look—look at all the statues I had with me."
"I wanted to use them too! Why did you cast this charm and not me?" McGonagall blurted before she could stop herself. Feeling the stares from both her colleagues and Tom, she coughed and quickly covered, "What I meant was, I know the spell better than you. As a professor, I should have taken the risk, not let a student face such danger."
"Heh…" Snape sneered from behind, his voice dripping with scorn. "Never thought I'd see the day. Riddle, you actually pulled a Gryffindor stunt. If it were Potter running off without thinking, I wouldn't be surprised—but you? Seems even the Sorting Hat makes mistakes."
Harry, skulking nearby, froze at the jab. His eyes went flat like a dead fish's as he mentally cast the Cruciatus Curse on Snape about a hundred times.
Tom didn't even glance at the old bat. Instead, he faced McGonagall with genuine sincerity.
"Professor, I wasn't trying to play hero. I just wanted to protect the others. If all of you had gone out to fight the basilisk, then who would've kept the younger students safe? They don't know how to avoid its gaze. Someone had to keep them from getting hurt."
His words softened even the strict professors. McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick all looked at him with admiration.
McGonagall's eyes grew misty as she said, "I understand your desire to protect your friends. But remember this—you are also one of the children we must protect. Promise me you will never risk yourself like that again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Tom replied at once, nodding obediently.
Snape rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't fall out of his skull. Riddle, needing protection? As if. And those ridiculous claims from earlier—he'd be damned before he believed a word of them.
He drew breath, ready to finally snap, but Tom cut him off with casual ease.
"Oh, right. The basilisk's remains—those belong to me, don't they?"
McGonagall blinked, then nodded. "Of course. They're your spoils. The school would never cheat you."
Snape: "…"
Would never? The school absolutely should. He wanted that corpse for himself!
McGonagall, you reckless damn woman! Do you have any idea how much the school just lost because of that one sentence?!
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