A/N: Tom Riddle/Voldemort stars in this because he's my favorite character/villain. I will post the first few chapters quickly, then, depending on the reviews, I'll post more of the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I only own Ivy, Ari, Amada, Mrs. Locke, Mrs. Blaque, Mr. Boulder, Dracula (the bat), and Ra (the snake). If I can't remember anymore character's from HP, then I'll add more of my own.
Prologue: Part I~He raised the wand—
Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell back into Harry's lap—the diary.
For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him and raised it into the air, preparing to plunge it into the heart of the diary—
But Riddle was too quick. Tom pointed the wand at Harry and cried, "Expelliarmus!" The diary was wrenched from his grasp as Harry was blasted across the room. Harry's back collided with the stone wall; the blow causing him to gasp in pain as he struggled to catch his breathe. His body fell, broken and limp, to the ground and Harry worked to pull himself up off the floor. Tom strolled over to Harry's side and watched in twisted amusement as he struggled before him. "Poor Harry Potter," he whispered. " 'The Boy Who Lived.'…How wrong they were." Tom directed the wand at Harry. "Totalus Estonem!"
Suddenly, Harry could feel every molecule in his body stiffen; an immense coldness enveloped him. He bagan to slightly spasm as he felt every inch of him tighten and freeze in place, then he felt his feet become heavy as…stone! He was being turned too stone!
As the pain spread up his legs, he looked up in horror at Tom Riddle, whose face was contorted into a malicious smile. "I failed," Harry thought, as the pain reached his shoulders. "I failed Ron. I failed Hermione. I failed Ginny…I failed Dumbledore." It reached his neck. "Good bye, Harry Potter," Tom whispered cruelly, as Harry's final thought entered his mind. "I'm sorry." At that final reflection, the pain overtook him fully; his consciousness left, his vision blackened, and, suddenly, everything was gone. Tom watched in triumph as Fawkes screeched and flew out of the chamber.
Tom stood over Harry's body. Harry Potter was nothing more than a statue. His body was frozen in stone; limbs askew from the tremors that had shrouded his body. His face distorted into a sorrowful, painful expression. Tom let a satisfied smile creep across his face. He gentle kicked Harry's stone figure in the side and chuckled amusedly to himself. Tom walked over to Ginny's body and knelt beside her. He placed his hand over her chest and felt the remainder of her life pour into him. It was pure ecstasy to feel his blood running through his veins once again… to feel his skin warm and his soul return to him. The manifestation of his sixteen-year-old self was now overflowing with existence and power. Tom examined Harry's wand for a moment before placing it within the pockets of his robes. He then made his way out of the Chamber of Secrets.
Once he entered the girls' lavatory, he turned towards the chamber entrance. "Close," he hissed in parseltongue. The chamber sealed itself. Tom turned to leave and exited the restroom. He needed to find a way to get to Hogsmeade.
*****
The halls of Hogwarts were dimly lit and empty. "Hmph," Tom thought. "The students are probably asleep in their dorms while the Dumbledore and the others trying to compose some sort of plan. How ignorant. They don't even have a clue as to where the chamber lay."
Tom had to admit that he was a little disappointed that escaping was turning out to be so easy. He had already found an old, dusty flying broom in one of the broom closets. It was in minor disrepair, but he only needed it until he got to Hogsmead.
"I'm getting closer," he thought to himself as he made his way towards the doors leading out of Hogwarts. "Just around this corner and down the---" Tom was stopped by the sight of someone sitting at the top of the stairs. It was a student. A girl. She sat with her back to him, leaning up against the rail. "She's in my way!" he thought irritably. As he moved to draw out his wand to "remove her from the spot", the broom scraped the floor, revealing his presence. The girl hastily turned towards him, sending a malevolent glare in his direction. "What the hell are you doing up?" she snapped. Tom raised an eyebrow at her. "Hmm…," he thought amusedly. "She must think I'm a regular student here." Deciding to go along with it, Tom answered her in even tones. "I should ask the same of you. Shouldn't you also be in your dorm?" She froze with guilt at his inquiry. While she tried to search for an excuse, Tom looked her over.
She had nice skin tanned to a light bronze, like she spent a lot of time in the sun. She had long, curly, chocolate-brown tresses that reached almost past her waist; there were blue and silver streaks in her dark hair. Her eye's were dark-brown, somewhat cat-shaped, and were silhouetted by long lashes; her eyes were complimented by slim eyebrows that were slightly forked and she had nice full lips. He could not tell what house she was in due to the fact that she was not fully facing him.
After a few moments of excuse searching she simply stated, "I should, but I don't really care. So if you don't mind, I'll be getting back to work and forgetting you exist." With that she turned back around and ignored Tom's presence. Tom, however, was not ready to be blown off. That fact that she could just dismiss him so easily was infuriating. And, for some reason, the mystery girl had gotten his curiosity.
Tom stepped towards her. "You're voice…it sounds different. Where are you from?" She turned, facing him once again, looking a bit annoyed. "America…You're carrying a broom. Where are you going?"
"I'm…not authorized to tell you."
"Figures."
"What?"
"You Prefects." Tom puzzled for a moment and looked down at the silver badge pinned to his robes. He had forgotten all about being a Prefect in his sixth year. "And what about all us Prefects?" he continued pryingly. She rolled her eyes at him and answered in a disgusted tone, "You know, always going around doing whatever noble deed will get you into the Headmaster's good graces and kissing all the teacher's asses. And what disgusts me the most is that they buy into that crap. You're like pathetic, annoying little dogs or something and they're always there to petting you. My old teachers never would have put up with that bullshit." She turned back to what she was doing and, once again, began ignoring Tom.
Part of him was furious and wanted to kill her for her insolence. (How dare she assume he, Voldemort, would sink so low!) Yet, he also found her opinion of Dumbledore and the professors kind of humorous, since it matched his own. Tom also had to keep in mind that she still thought he was a regular student. He found himself wanting to ask her more and more questions. "Surely you don't think all Prefects are like that, do you?" She looked back at him again. He could sense her growing frustration. "Yes. I do. Just like that pompous little bitch, Percy Weasley." Tom could not help but laugh at this statement. She was talking about poor Ginny's brother. He remembered countless times when she'd complain to him about Percy and her other brothers in the diary.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, right." She got up from her seat on the stairs. Now that she was standing, Tom got a better look at her. She was only a few inches shorter than him. Her robes were open and bore the Griffindor house patch. Under them, she wore fitted, black denim pants that slightly flared and ornamented with many silver zippers. Her shirt was a simple, black cotton tank top. Tom could tell that she was wearing some strange fashion of muggle clothes and scowled inwardly at this. In her right hand, she held a blood-red, leather book and a long, thin piece of wood that was sharpened at one in. "What are you staring at?" she snapped. "You," he answered. "You're in Griffindor." She scowled. "What are you reading?" he asked her. "Nothing," she growled in response. "It didn't seem like it," he stated matter-of-factly. She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm leaving now. And don't worry, I won't tell the Professors you were up past your bed time."
She moved to leave, when Tom reached out and stopped her in her tracks. Surprised at his gesture, she glared up at him angrily. "Aren't you worried," he questioned, raising one of his eyebrows. "About what?" she asked impatiently. "Why, the…monster…of course. Surely it's gotten around this school by now. Especially with all the…attacks on the other students." She simply rolled her eyes in displeasure. "I really don't care. This 'monster' is none of my concern. I just wanna get back to my dorm. Now, if you'll excuse me…" She shoved past Tom and left him standing alone by the stairs. For a while, he stood there, watching her walk off. When she was out of sight, he proceeded onwards, toward the doors.
*****
Finally, he was out of the castle. Taking care to keep himself hidden among the darkest shadows, Tom mounted the old broom and kicked off into the air. Being able to fly again felt magnificent; the feeling was absolutely exhilarating after not being able to fly for so long Tom soared up toward the velvet, night sky, then guided the broom in the direction of Hogsmead, the wizarding village.
A/N: For those of you who are wondering what happened to Ron and Prof. Lockhart, you won't find out 'til later on in the story.
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