𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 ¹

38. the heir of slytherin

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry asked, as Harper stood over Ginny, protective. "She's not—she's not—?"

"She's still alive," Riddle said. "But only just."

Harry stared at him and Harper didn't know why, but she knew something was off with this Riddle person.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainty.

"A memory," Riddle said quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed towards the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary they had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"You've got to help us, Tom," Harry said, as Harper raised Ginny's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a Basilisk . . . I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment. Please, help us . . ."

Riddle's eyes shifted from Harry to Harper for the first time since they'd entered the Chamber.

"Harry, why don't you introduce me to your friend?"

"Right, er, this is Harper, my sister . . ."

"Your sister?" Riddle repeated, watching her with more interest now, Harry's wand was magically in his hands.

"Listen," Harry began urgently, "we've got to go! If the Basilisk comes . . ."

"It won't come until it is called," Riddle said calmly.

"What'd you mean?" Harry said. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it."

Riddle smiled. "You won't be needing it."

"What d'you mean, I won't be—?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," Riddle began. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you." His eyes darted over to Harper. "And your sister."

"Look," Harry said, and Harper saw that he was starting to lose his patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later."

"We're going to talk now," Riddle said, smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.

"How did Ginny get like this?" Harper spoke up for the first time and both boys looked at her.

"Well, that's an interesting question," Riddle said pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" Harry said.

"The diary," Riddle replied. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes: how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, how . . ." Riddle's eyes glinted ". . . how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her . . ."

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom . . . I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in . . . It's like having a friend I can carry round in my pocket . . ."

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs on the back of Harper's neck stand up.

"If I say it myself, Harry, Harper, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her souls happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her . . ."