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Harry Potter And The Secrets of Slytherin.Book two!
Chapter seventeen of this snakey book-in-a-book, The Heir.
I do not own Harry Potter(but I totally should). This is an AU.
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He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.
His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?
He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.
Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.
Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.
"Ginny!" Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees before her unconscious body. "Ginny-- don't be dead-- please don't be dead--" He dropped his wand beside him, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But she couldn't be dead. Right?
"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.
"She won't wake," said a soft voice.
Harry, startled, spun around on his knees quickly.
A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window, yet there was no mistaking him--
"Tom Riddle,"
Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.
"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said suspiciously. "She's not dead, right--?"
"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."
Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. He must've been a memory.
"How are you here?" He asked, trying to stall. Stall what, he didn't know. He just didn't trust that Riddle was there.
"I'm a memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."
He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, Harry would've ran and snatched it up, but there were more important things to worry about.
"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry said, with fake timidness, raising 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, if you would be so kind--"
Riddle didn't move. Harry, growing much more suspicious, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again.
But his wand had been gone.
"Say, do you know--?"
He looked up. Riddle was still watching him-- twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.
"I'd like that back, please," said Harry, stretching out his hand for it expectantly.
A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling his wand idly.
"Listen," said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. "We've got to go, and I'm not going to be the blame for anything bad that happens down here, whether you're a memory or not. If the basilisk comes--"
"It won't come until it's called," said Riddle calmly.
Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.
"Whatever d'you mean?" he said, unable to help but sound odd. "Look, give me my wand, I'm not kidding--"
Riddle's smile broadened.
"You won't be needing it," he said.
Harry stared at him silently.
"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."
"We've spoken before, because I think you've forgotten how I came to know that Hagrid was the last 'culprit,'" said Harry, losing patience, " and I don't think you get the situation we're in. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later, when we're in less danger--"
"We're going to talk now," said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.
Harry stared at him, frowning.
"We're going to speak now? Well, if you wouldn't mind answering my question. How did Ginny get like this?" he asked.
"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle 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?" said Harry.
"The diary," said Riddle. "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 secondhand robes and books," Riddle's eyes glinted, "how she didn't think famous, good, great Hayden-Harry Potter would ever like her because she was so 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 around in my pocket.."
Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit his face. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck.
"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul 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.. I would've done just the same to you, if I had the chance.."
"What do you mean?" asked Harry slowly, who had begun looking around the room frantically for an exit.
"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."
"No.." Harry said, now understanding everything perfectly.
"Yes," said Riddle, calmly. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. And the two non-Mudbloods, well, that wasn't quite planned, but it worked just as well.. It was all very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries... far more interesting, they became.. Dear Tom," he recited, watching Harry's frustrated face with a smile, "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me.. There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad.. I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"
"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been any more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was the most anxious to meet.."
"And why did you want to meet me, of all people?" asked Harry. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.
"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and his expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust--"
"Hagrid's my friend," said Harry, his voice now shaking. "And all you've gained from me is suspicion. I know that you framed him. I thought you made a mistake at first, but now--"
Riddle laughed his high laugh again.
"It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. You can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student, well on his way to being Head Boy... on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other day, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls.. But I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possible be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance... as though stupid little Hagrid had the brains, or the power!
"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed.... Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did.."
"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you." said Harry his teeth gritted, mentally adding, 'And so do I.'
"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," said Riddle carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."
"Yet you haven't truly done so, have you," said Harry. "No one's died this time. Not even the cat. In a few hours, everyone who was Petrified will be back right again and all of this wouldn't have been for very much--"
"Haven't I already told you," said Riddle quietly, "That killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been you."
Harry stared at him.
"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? What if you had begun to do the same? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, the genius of the Ravenclaws, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery-- particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing about you because you could speak Parseltongue..
"So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her.. She put too much into the diary... into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last.. I have been waiting for you to appear ever since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."
"Like what?" Harry spat, keeping an eye on the door he came in from, hoping that one of his friends would burst in very soon.
"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "How is it that you– a skinny, short boy with no extraordinary magical talent– managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar on your head, while Lord Voldemort and all his powers were destroyed?"
There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.
"Why do you care how I escaped? What does it matter to you?" asked Harry slowly. "Voldemort probably would've killed you if you were still around.."
"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."
"You. You're... Voldemort?" Harry asked, a smile spread across his face.
Riddle, who hadn't noticed Harry's mocking tone, pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT
"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry-- I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"
Harry couldn't help but burst out laughing. He stared at Riddle-- the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry's own parents, and so many others.. At last he forced himself to speak.
"You're not," he said.
"Not what?" snapped Riddle.
"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world," said Harry, breathing fast. "Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone else says and thinks so. Even when you were so strong, you didn't dare try and take over Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days as Voldemort--"
The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.
"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.
"He's not as gone as you might think! The school wouldn't be open without his memory still lingering, would it?! You're not even really here now, so much for him being driven away!" Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to distract Riddle.
Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.
Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; It lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own chest, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.
A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming gold talons that gave the water a yellow tint.
A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.
The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.
"That's a phoenix.." said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.
"Fawkes?" Harry breathed, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeezed his shoulder gently.
Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark Chamber rang with it, as though multiple Riddles were laughing at once--
"This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and nothing but hope! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"
Harry didn't answer. He might not see what use Fawkes was being there, but he was no longer alone, and he waited for Riddle to stop laughing with his courage mounting, still eyeing the entrance door.
"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Twice-- in your past, in my future-- we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."
Harry was thinking fast, weighing his chances. Riddle had the wand. He, Harry, had Fawkes and a hope that one of his friends would break through the rocks within the hour, only one of which would be much help at the moment. The situation looked bad, alright... the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny.... And in the meantime, Harry noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid.. If it had to be a fight between him and Riddle, better sooner than later.
"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry abruptly. "I don't know myself. I don't even remember it. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother gave herself to save me. My common... Muggle-born... mother," he added, shaking. "She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you. You're a wreck. You're barely alive, and had to clench to a pathetic man that couldn't even stand straight. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul, and you're as pathetic as Quirrell was--"
Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile.
"So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now.... There is nothing special about you, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans... raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike... but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."
Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise the wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.
"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapon Dumbledore can give him, a bird..."
He cast an amused eye over Fawkes, then walked away. Harry, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed-- but Harry understood what he was saying clearly.
"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."
Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.
Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.
And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.
Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight he felt Fawkes' wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to open his eyes and see why, but what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents, let alone a child without a wand?
Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder-- he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice:
"Kill him."
The basilisk was moving toward Harry; He could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to drag himself blindly sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way-- Riddle, no, Voldemort was laughing loudly--
Harry tripped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood in his mouth as he bit his tonue-- the serpent was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming--
There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars--
He couldn't help it-- he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.
The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake.
Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers--
Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry as he ducked, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned-- Harry looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.
"NO!" Harry heard Riddle screaming. "LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!"
The blinded serpent swayed, confusedly, but still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.
Harry ran for as long as his legs would let him, which was longer than he thought.
The snake's tail whipped across the floor again. Harry ducked, slipped, and slid across the floor. His head hit a wall, and he fell in water, but scrambled to his feet desperately and dragged himself away from the basilisk. After he got a generous distance away, he forced himself to his feet, his head throbbing terribly.
Harry was on his feet, ready. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. He could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide, wide enough to swallow him whole, lined with fangs as long as his sword, thin, glittering, venomous--
It lunged blindly-- Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed Harry's side. He tried to move away, but failed--
The basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true.
Harry hit the wall, the basilisk's fangs pressuring his chest and arm. Warm blood drenched Harry's arms and his breathing grew faint, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow and very close to where he could feel his heart was thundering. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and the other in his chest, likely his lung with how hard it was getting to breathe-- but suddenly, the fang in his arm splintered as the basilisk turned away.
It made a horrible sound, and Fawkes flew over once again, giving a final blow, as Harry slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late. White streaks, followed by hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from his wounds, and his vision was going in and out. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision only got foggier. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull color.
A patch of scarlet swam past, and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him.
"Fawkes?" breathed Harry, as it began to become painful to speak. "You were fantastic, Fawkes.." He felt the bird lay its head on the first spot where the serpent's fang had pierced him, his chest.
He could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of him.
"You're dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."
Harry blinked. Fawkes's head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers.
"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."
Harry felt drowsy, and incredibly dizzy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning. Fawkes's weight moved from his chest to his arm.
"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry.... She bought you twelve years of borrowed time, but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must...."
If this is dying, thought Harry, it's not so bad. Minus the fact Riddle is still talking.
Even the pain was leaving him...
But was this dying? Instead of fading to black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. Harry gave his head a little shake and there was Fawkes, still resting his head on Harry's arm. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound, and the pain started to fade away, though blood was still flooding out-- He looked down at his chest, which hadn't been hurting either--
"Get away, bird," said Riddle's voice suddenly. "Get away from him-- I said, get away--"
Harry sat still for a moment, before he heard a sudden bang-- he took that as his chance to try and get away. It hadn't been much easier to breathe, and he didn't make it far before he collapsed on the floor.
"Even when you've been healed by a phoenix's tears, you're still going to die! How shameful!" Riddle's awful laugh echoed through the Chamber once again, and Harry looked up.
The diary caught his eye.
He reached out for it, desperately, and, before he knew it, it had been flying towards him, and very suddenly, had been in his hand. Riddle had yet to notice. Harry dropped the book before him, ripped the basilisk fang out his arm and raised it high above his head, and plunged it directly into the heart of the diary.
There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. He turned around quickly-- Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then--
He had gone. Disappeared as if he never was to begin with. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.
Shaking all over, Harry dragged himself along, slipping on his own blood and ink that was spreading across the floor rapidly. His head was spinning as though he'd just traveled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he grabbed his wand, before he couldn't move his arms anymore.
Then came a groan from the other side of the Chamber. Harry looked past the trail of blood he had left dragging himself and at Ginny, who had been stirring. She sat up, and looked around frantically, and gasped when she saw Harry, whose vision had begun to fade once again.
The door to the Chamber flew open with a slam, but Harry couldn't see who it was that had been running over. He couldn't hear who was crying in his ear, or see who was holding him up.
Next thing he knew when he could open his eyes, he was in the Hospital wing, many Muggle medical devices hooked up to him.