60 with tomarry please!

crownwithoutstones:

In which Harry was slightly faster in killing the basilisk
and isn’t bitten. 

HP, basically gen (sorry anon! there’s Tom and Harry but it’s not really romantic), crack written seriously, second year. 

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Harry sucked in a deep breath as the basilisk’s great head
fell to the ground, its scratched-out, unseeing eyes blank with death. He was
bruised and scratched from falling and his hands felt raw from clenching the
heavy Gryffindor sword, but otherwise he was uninjured, while his mythical
opponent lay dead on the stone floor of the chamber. I’m alive, Harry
thought with deep gulps of breath as he took a few shaky steps and snatched the
diary from the ground. He held it over one of the basilisk’s fangs, prepared to
destroy it and erase Tom’s presence from this world. He only wished he could do
the same with Voldemort.

“Wait!” the shade of the young man yelled when the
diary was only a few hairs away from being pierced.

Against all odds, Harry stopped. Maybe it was the shaking of
his tired arms, maybe it was the fear in Tom’s voice, but Harry let him have
his final words before death. He continued to hold the diary above the
basilisk’s venomous fang, but met Tom’s eyes as the shade glanced furtively
between Harry and the diary. “Before you decide to murder me, let me
explain.” 

“It’s not murder,” Harry said. If this had been any less
stressful of a situation, he would’ve rolled his eyes. “What you were going to
do to Ginny—that’s murder. I’m just getting rid of an outdated old book.”

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