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Attack of the Basilisk

Ermalene and Astarte instinctively blocked Lysander and Andy, who was several feet closer to the intruder, turned and aimed his wand at them. The moonlight crept slowly up the figure, from her bare feet up her long gown to her dirty and anguished face. Her hair wound tightly with snakes, chest heaving as she breathed heavily, Medusa approached them, withdrawing her wand from her sleeve.

Andy’s face flickered astonishment for but a moment and then hardened and Ermalene moved into a defensive stance once more. Astarte stood, wide eyed, staring at her mother, her heart hammering. This was it. The moment of truth. She could save herself by rejoining her mother or she could come out as someone standing against her mother and try to fight with the others.

“Astarte,” Medusa hissed quietly.

Andy backed up, his wand still held before him, standing in front of the two girls protectively.

“Move, you fool,” Medusa commanded him.

Andy’s voice shook only slightly, “No.”

“LOOK OUT!” Ermalene screamed. But it was too late.

“Sectumsempra!” shouted Medusa and the whiplike spell shot from her wand, a long lick of red sparks that caught Andy in his shoulder as he ducked out of the way.

“Protego!” he cried, as she struck again. This time, the shower of sparks hit the shield charm. Blood was pouring from his arm, staining his shirt. He had his eyes wrenched shut, but refused to lower his wand arm, keeping the shield charm up, but it was thinning as he was becoming weaker. “I can’t… I can’t hold it… my arm…”

“Andy, oh my God,” Ermalene ran forward, “Protego!” She cried, her shield joining his, and only just in time as Medusa shot the killing curse at it. Green sparks exploded against the white of their combined shield charms. Andy fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder. Ermalene, who was not much good at the shield charm - not as good as Andy was, by any means - cried, “Stupefy!” and Medusa easily avoided the jet of light that flew by her.

“You stupid girl,” Medusa shrieked. She glowered at Ermalene. “Avada --”

“Expelliarmus!” Astarte surprised even herself by shouting it, and when Medusa’s wand flipped into her hand, mother and daughter both looked absolutely shocked.

“What have you done?” Medusa whispered.

“I’ve - I’ve stopped you,” Astarte answered, “From doing the wrong thing. From killing people who don’t deserve to die!” She stood up straight, “It wasn’t Lysander sending those patronus to the Ministry. It was me. I did it. I’m the one who defied you!” She felt a surge of power in her veins like she’d never known. Confidence, she realized, was a magic all of it’s own. “You’re a cruel, ugly old hag and I hate you! I hate what you’ve done to me and to my father all these years.”

“I’ve treated you like royalty!” shrieked Medusa, “Like the royalty we ARE!”

“We aren’t royalty! We live in a shack in the woods far away from everyone else. You are no queen, you are nothing, mother, except an evil sorceress and now --” Astarte took her mother’s wand and snapped it clean in two, “-- you can’t do anything to stop me escaping.”

The silence that followed was thick, the only sound that broke it was Andy’s whimpering as he clutched his bloody shoulder. Ermalene had ripped part of her skirt off and tied it tightly around him like a tourniquet.

“Nothing?” Medusa hissed. Though none of them understood the word. It was in Parseltongue. And Medusa seemed to grow as they watched and a strange wind came around her as she reared back and her features seemed to melt together and her body contorted and with a soft thump the first ring of thick coils dropped to the ground so hard it seemed to shake, like a miniature earthquake, and then the next coil and the next and her hair melted away and suddenly before them in the road stood not a witch but a basilisk.

Ermalene looked away, “Don’t look in her eyes!” she cried, “You’ll be petrified!” But even as she said it, she felt Andy go stiff in her lap. “No!” she screamed, “Andy!”

Astarte choked back a sob as she stumbled backward. Lysander was getting to his feet, and he grabbed for Andy’s wand from where it had fallen on the ground when he fell.

The basilisk hissed and uncoiled and recoiled and wove in the air before them, glaring down at them. She seemed to be laughing, enjoying the little situation she had created, playing with her food before striking. There was nothing any of them could do. They couldn’t even look at her.

“Incendio!” the spell shot from the woods to their left and struck Medusa in one of her eyes.

She hissed and reared, her eye burned out, anger and pain mixing into a terrible screech. She turned, looking at the forest with her other eye, baring her thick, venomous fangs. She snapped, breaking several trees for she was so large that they broke like toothpicks in her mouth.

“Incendio!” shouted another voice from a couple feet away, missing her second eye but hitting her skin and burning her feircely. Medusa reared once more and her snake body writhed in pain.

Harry and Ron ran out of the woods. “Can’t believe I missed that,” Ron was muttering as he emerged.

“I told you kids not to come with us,” Harry snapped, voice livid.

“We didn’t come with you, we came after you,” Ermalene said. Harry knelt beside her to examine Andy, “He’s been petrified,” she explained. “But she hit him with the sectumsempra,” she added.

“Being petrified will stop the bleeding the sectumsempra caused,” Harry said, “When we get back to Hogwarts, we’ll have Neville prepare some mandrake juice and --”

Suddenly Medusa struck, her fangs only just missing Harry, Andy and Ermalene. Harry waved his wand and a gash appeared across Medusa’s snake belly and she hissed and rebounded. Ermalene screamed and covered Andy with her body. Harry yelled, “Ron, we need to get these kids out of here, we’ll come back for Hermione.”

“Right mate.” Ron ran ahead and grabbed hold of Astarte and Lysander without even thinking about it and disapparated away.

Harry took Ermalene and Andy and just as Medusa was about to strike again, they disappeared and were back on the ground in the woods outside of Hogwarts.

“Blimey.” Ron’s eyes were wide. “Where in bloody hell did she get a basilisk?”

“She is the basilisk,” Astarte explained.

Harry looked at Astarte with wide eyes.

“She's an animangus?" Ron squeaked. Then, "Wait. Who the ruddy hell’re you?”

“Astarte Gaunt.”

“Gaunt.” Harry’s voice was serious. “You’re descended from Morfin Gaunt?"

Astarte shrugged, “I - I don’t know.”

“We need to go get Hermione!” Ron said. "We've left her there with a half blind basilisk."

“Yes, right. Start to Hagrid's, you three. We’ll catch up in a mo’.” Harry said. He looked at Lysander, “And I know someone who’s going to be mighty pleased to see you.” Then he and Ron disapparated back to the Great North Woods.

Astarte looked around at the motley crew that was before her - Ermalene, Andy petrified, her father shaking and weakened still from the intense rounds of the cruciatus curse he’d suffered. Somewhere, her mother was in basilisk form, half blind and shrieking through the forest. She could almost imagine the sound of her wails echoing, as though they were close enough to hear. Her heart pounded. She felt both guilty and… free… at the same time.