Harry Potter: Westeros's Plant Life

Although the basilisk had lost its sight, its other senses still allowed it to roughly track Harry's movements. After deflecting Harry's spell with casual ease, the maddened basilisk let out a bone-chilling roar and suddenly lunged toward Harry's position with its massive body.

Harry's reflexes kicked in and he quickly rolled to the side, his body moving on pure instinct, but the basilisk's reach was far greater than he had anticipated. The creature's thick tail, easily as wide as Harry's torso, swept around in a devastating arc that caught him across the ribs with the force of a battering ram.

The impact sent Harry flying through the air like a broken doll. He crashed heavily into the stone wall with a sickening thud that echoed through the Chamber.

He groaned deeply, as sharp, stabbing pain lanced through his waist where the tail had connected, and he could taste the tang of blood filling his mouth.

Enduring the excruciating pain, Harry forced himself to get up from the stone floor. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and his expression turned grim.

Now was not the time to panic; he had to stay calm.

His magic couldn't penetrate the basilisk's hide at all. So now he had to find the basilisk's vulnerable spots.

The basilisk didn't give Harry the luxury of time to think of a plan. It immediately began slithering. Its two enormous fangs, each as long as Harry's forearm and wickedly curved, gleamed with a cold, deadly light.

Harry forced himself to endure the severe pain radiating from his ribs and waist, but his gaze remained fixed with intensity on the basilisk's gaping mouth.

In the soft pink tissue of the basilisk's throat, there was no hard armor protection—this was exactly the opportunity he had been waiting for!

"Confringo!" Harry roared with every ounce of strength left in his lungs.

His wand tip erupted with the dazzling red light of the Blasting Curse, the magical energy crackling and sparking as it gathered into a concentrated bolt of destruction.

"BOOM!"

The spell shot through the air like a crimson comet and disappeared into the basilisk's mouth and exploded deep in the creature's soft throat with a sound like thunder trapped in a bottle.

Instantly, the basilisk let out a deafening hiss of agony with its massive head whipped back and forth in a frenzy of suffering before it fell heavily to one side. Dark green blood gushed from the basilisk's mouth splattering across the Chamber floor like spilled paint.

Seeing the basilisk's reaction, Harry knew that his attack had worked.

However, before he could allow himself even a moment to celebrate this small victory, the injured basilisk fell into an even more frenzied rage than before.

It thrashed on the ground, and its thick tail swept toward Harry in a devastating arc. Harry saw it coming and barely managed to throw himself aside. But even his desperate evasion wasn't quite enough as the surrounding impact drove the breath from his lungs and sent his wand skipping across the floor.

This creature's vitality was truly tenacious!

Harry grimaced as new pain came over him. His left hand had gone completely numb. His ribs, which had been just painful before, now felt like they had been replaced with shards of hot metal. Worse still, he couldn't feel his ribs at all on one side.

But the most troubling development was the basilisk had learned from his attack. Having been hurt once by opening its mouth, it was no longer presenting that vulnerability.

It would be even more difficult to injure the beast from now on, and Harry was running out of strength.

Suddenly, cutting through his despair like a ray of sunlight, a clear, melodious call came from somewhere above his head. Harry looked up through eyes blurred with pain and exhaustion to see a grayish bundle falling toward him.

It landed precisely in Harry's arms with perfect accuracy. Harry's fingers fumbled to unwrap the package. Inside, to his complete bewilderment, he found a battered wizard's hat that he recognized immediately.

"The Sorting Hat?" he shouted at Fawkes, his voice cracking with disbelief and more than a little hysteria. "What use is this old hat now?"

Of course, Fawkes wouldn't—couldn't—answer him.

Instead, much to Harry's shock, the Sorting Hat in his hands spoke up with a voice full of indignity. "How terribly rude... I am not some mere 'old hat,' Potter."

Harry didn't know what to say for a moment, caught between exhaustion, pain, and the surreal nature of arguing with a hat while a giant serpent tried to kill him. But the basilisk's next attack was already building, giving him no time for thinking.

Because of the effects of the previous Blasting Curse, the basilisk had become caution. It no longer dared to open its mouth rashly. It swung its upper body violently toward where Harry was.

But even this more cautious approach carried deadly force. Harry didn't dare attempt to block or deflect such an attack.

Fortunately, the basilisk's blindness worked in Harry's favor. Without its eyes to guide it, the creature's attacks, while devastating, weren't precisely aimed.

Harry rolled desperately across the stone floor, and narrowly avoided the basilisk's strike.

"Listen carefully, young one," the Sorting Hat's voice rang out amid the chaos of battle. "The great Sorting Hat can indeed help you. Now, reach into my brim—quickly, before that oversized worm realizes where you've gotten to!"

Harry suddenly felt the Sorting Hat in his hands become incredibly heavy, as if it had been filled with weights. He didn't know what was happening and could only follow the Sorting Hat's instructions, reaching his hand into the brim—

His fingers closed around something cold and hard.

"What is this?!" Harry exclaimed in amazement and pulled out a gleaming silver sword from the depths of the Hat. The hilt of the sword was also set with rubies, glittering in the dim Chamber.

However, after his initial wonder and surprise came confusion.

A sword? Was he supposed to use this hack at a sixty-foot magical serpent?

He was a wizard! What wizard in this day and age used swords?

Before Harry could figure out how exactly he was supposed to use it, the basilisk launched another vicious attack. Its tail was already whipped toward Harry.

Harry's body moved on pure instinct, raising the sword in a desperate attempt to protect himself. He expected the blade to shatter on impact, or at best to be torn from his grip by the force of the blow.

Instead, something miraculous happened.

The tail scraped along the sword's edge as it passed over Harry's head, missing him by inches. But rather than sliding harmlessly off, the sharp blade carved through the basilisk's armored scales like they were made of parchment. The sword cut a deep wound along the length of the tail, and dark green blood immediately gushing out and splashed across Harry's face and robes.

"Hiss—!" The basilisk let out a hiss of agony. It writhed its injured tail frantically, sending drops of blood flying in all directions.

Harry wiped the basilisk blood from his face with his sleeve. But more importantly, he finally realized that the sword in his hands was no ordinary weapon.

This changed everything. Suddenly, he had a real chance of victory.

He gritted his teeth against the pain radiating through his body and gripped the sword more tightly. His injuries were becoming increasingly serious with each passing moment. If this battle dragged on much longer, it would be very disadvantageous for him.

Of course, he had to acknowledge that the basilisk's injuries were probably even more severe than his own at this point.

At this crucial moment, Fawkes seemed to sense Harry's desperate need and suddenly let out a series of complex, musical calls. The phoenix's song had an immediate effect on the basilisk, its head began swaying back and forth in apparent confusion.

This was his chance—perhaps his only chance.

Harry placed the Sorting Hat on his head, held his breath, forcing his injured body to move with as much stealth as he could manage, and began circling around to position himself in front of the basilisk's head.

He raised the sword in his hands with all his strength with the silver blade gleaming coldly in the darkness.

The basilisk also seemed to sense the approaching danger through some instinct. Despite Fawkes' continued interference, it began shaking its head frantically, trying to locate the source of the threat it could feel but not see.

Harry watched intently, waiting for the perfect moment. His muscles coiled like springs, ready to release all his remaining strength in one decisive strike.

The instant the basilisk lowered its head in another attempt to locate him through scent, Harry struck with every ounce of power left in his body.

He thrust the sword forward with all his might, aiming for the basilisk's already ruined right eye socket.

"Thud!"

The sword was met with no resistance at all. Gryffindor's blade slid through the destroyed eye socket like a hot knife through butter, penetrating deep into the basilisk's brain.

The basilisk let out one final, deafening hiss that seemed to contain all the rage and pain and malice of its kind. Its massive body convulsed violently in its last moment of death. The convulsions were so violent that they flung Harry away like a leaf in a hurricane, sending him tumbling across the stone floor.

However, the fatal wound had been dealt.

With a tremendous crash, the behemoth finally collapsed to the ground.. Gryffindor's sword remained embedded in the creature's skull like an exclamation mark of victory, and dark green blood was continuously seeping from the wound to pool on the floor.

Harry lay exhausted on the cold stone, gasping heavily as his lungs fought for air. His serious injuries were catching up with him now that the adrenaline of battle was fading, and his vision was gradually blurring as shock and blood loss took their toll.

At this moment, when Harry felt closer to death than he ever had before, Fawkes slowly came down from the heights of the Chamber where he had been circling to Harry's side.

In his daze, Harry felt several warm drops fall gently on his face.

'Phoenix tears!'

He immediately thought of the legend he had read in one of his textbooks, that phoenix tears had powerful healing properties, capable of curing even the most serious wounds. The warm sensation from where the tears had touched his skin gradually spread throughout Harry's entire body.

The burning agony in his chest immediately lessened to a manageable ache. The pain in his left arm also faded to a dull throb. Most remarkably his originally blurred vision was gradually becoming clear.

Harry blinked in wonder, feeling strength flowing back into his limbs.

"Thank you, Fawkes," He said weakly. Slowly, he managed to sit up and then get to his feet. But he couldn't just lie here celebrating his survival; there were urgent matters to attend to. He needed to check on Ron, needed to report what had happened here to the professors.

"Fawkes," Harry said, looking up at the phoenix, "go quickly and notify Dumbledore."

Although he still didn't fully understand why Fawkes had been here in the Chamber fighting the basilisk before his arrival, Harry was certain that notifying Dumbledore was the right choice now.

Fawkes clearly thought so too.

In the blink of an eye, accompanied by a flash of golden flame, the phoenix had vanished from where it stood.

Almost simultaneously, before Harry had even finished processing the phoenix's departure, the air began to shimmer again with that same golden distortion.

Accompanied by a wave of spatial displacement, Professor Dumbledore's tall, familiar figure appeared beside him.

Harry immediately felt relieved. At least he wouldn't die in this sinister and terrifying underground palace.

As soon as Dumbledore landed, he saw the fallen basilisk in the distance and Harry, covered in blood.

"Oh my," Dumbledore said gently. "It seems you've been through an extremely intense battle, Harry."

Harry nodded weakly. He tried to take a step toward the headmaster, but his legs felt like they had been replaced with some unstable substance that couldn't quite support his weight.

He smiled bitterly at Dumbledore and said. "Professor, I think I need a little help."

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