Author's Notes: Here it is – I've decided it's about time to start updating this story again! I must say it feels a bit weird to be putting up a new part of this story after so much time… forgive any continuity errors… but, I've got some finished chapters lined up so they'll be regular, as often as I can.

I'd like to say a massive thank-you to everyone who's read this story, reviewed it, and kept an eye on its dormant state. The Enchanted Teakettle, SailorHecate, AchillesMonkey, Skippy Agogo, crazy-emerald-blue, moony391, Moony's Metamorphmagus, miichanx, Mystical Witch, Charming-Lynn, i'mwiththem, phoebe turner, tweedledani, raven, Neon-Lady-Katie, l'Ciel, LuthienTinuviel2512, Mia Vandutchess, Hyperactiva, Ilaaris, Xenia Marvolo, Barranca, Aesculapius, PSYM, ako-si-feeYoWnah, xLzM, krystalmaze, Arsinoe de Blassenville, mae vona, Mighty Lord Moldy-Shorts, Lady Charity, zetakat11, azenthar, Becky, ivory, openwindow4, and danetta… all of you… cheers!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe; JK Rowling does. No profit is being made off this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Ten

The Slytherin Quidditch team won their first match against Hufflepuff and their second, against Gryffindor. Both victories were thanks to Tom's Seeking abilities. Some of the spectators began to complain that they got all dressed up to watch Quidditch and then the match was over in fifteen minutes. It also meant that the after-game parties were all about Tom Riddle. He was plied with sweets, attention, praise, and flattery, beginning with Professor Slughorn and extending down to every little first-year.

The one-eighty-degree reversal in the opinions of his fellow Slytherins was all on the surface, in Tom's view. He knew it irked the children of the old families that he, a half-blood, was so good at everything. Snakes were loyal to one another, but they were also jealous by nature. He should know; the other week Nagini had accused him of 'consorting' with a garden snake he'd met near the lake. He wondered when would be the right time to reveal his true heritage.

Not yet, said the voice of caution. Wait until you really need it.

It reminded him that he had to speak with Pandora Piper. He wanted to make sure she was still in line. The loss of the Gryffindor Quidditch team would not have endeared her any further to Slytherin; Tom was a little bit sorry that house lines divided them more and more. He enjoyed talking pro Quidditch with Lawrence Carter, and he missed being in on the practical joke planning sessions of Pandora and Wolfin.

Wondering if Pandora would be in the library (she only studied hard when she was angry about something), Tom tried to extricate himself from the group of laughing, celebrating Slytherins, but they would have none of it.

'You've always got your nose in a book, Riddle,' said Lestrange. 'It's not natural.'

'I can hardly rely on some of these incompetents they call teachers,' said Tom. 'Dumbledore, for instance. He's so prejudiced against our house. I don't know how he manages to teach us anything.'

'Yeah!' echoed Avery. 'He took points from me just because I was slow to transfigure that bloody teapot into a bloody tortoise. Who cares if the stupid thing whistled?'

'To be fair, tortoises aren't supposed to whistle,' said Tom.

'Yeah, but ten points off? That old codger is a right –'

'Shhh, it's Sluggy,' Olive Hornby nudged Avery to change the subject as their Head of House walked by, holding a glass of mead and chortling.

'So Mum and Dad have left London,' said Walburga, examining her fingernails. 'Can't stand the noise anymore, they said. Dirty stupid Muggles.'

'Yeah, they closed up the house,' Lucretia added in her chirpy voice. 'But it wasn't just the noise… it's not safe anymore, they say…'

'Oh, what a load of rubbish,' snapped Walburga. 'As if the Muggles could hurt us.'

'Actually, the Ministry's had to put special wards up around Diagon Alley,' said Tom, quoting his mother on the subject. 'They're afraid a direct hit from the Germans might get through the magic. Nowhere in the city is safe anymore.'

'Rubbish,' Walburga repeated.

Tom repressed a hot flame of annoyance. Stupid girl. She did not understand anything, and he bet that her parents in their fine London house hadn't a clue what was going on, either. 'You're ignorant,' he said in a quiet voice. 'If the German Muggles take over the English Muggle government, what do you think will happen? It's not isolated from us, you know. The Dark Lord Grindelwald is behind it.'

'My father says Grindelwald has the right idea,' said Walburga. 'He doesn't tolerate Muggles and mudbloods. His ideas may be radical but at least someone's doing something about the poisoning of our bloodlines.'

Tom raised his eyebrows. The conversation was dangerously close to turning personal. 'An interesting theory,' he said to Walburga, 'but I suggest you find your own opinions instead of just spouting what your father says. It doesn't speak too highly of your intelligence.' He drained the remainder of his butterbeer and set it down on the table with a loud thud. 'Excuse me.'

As he walked away, he heard Cornelius say, 'Wally, you dumb bird, don't make him upset! He's the Seeker…'

At least it gave Tom the excuse to leave the Slytherin common room. The noise was giving him a headache. His feet took him toward the library along well-known stone corridors. He was occupied by pleasanter thoughts by the time he walked through the library doors… thoughts about his little research project. He already knew the text he would look at first, for it was one of his favourites: Hogwarts, A History. Someone had checked it out for several weeks and Madame Grank had just notified him that it was back in the library.

He waved to Lawrence Carter, who was at a table with several other swotting Ravenclaws, and sat down to an hour of reading. With each word his mind was soothed. He was above them all. He was the last heir of the Slytherin line. And the words on the page sang to him, a sweet song, full of promise, a siren to his inadequacies. Defense would soon become unnecessary. He would have a monster all his own…

The text was mostly worthless, but not quite. A mere mention on page 716 sent a glittering spike of excitement into Tom's heart: 'It was rumoured that Slytherin, during the building of the castle, had constructed a mysterious chamber somewhere in the building to house a creature of his persuasion. Dubbed the Chamber of Secrets, it is now largely acknowledged to be a myth started by Rowena Ravenclaw.'

A smile tickled the corners of his mouth. He did not think it was a myth. He thought the Chamber of Secrets existed, and he would find it.

'Well done, ten points to Gryffindor,' said Professor Dumbledore as Pandora successfully transfigured a goblet into a gopher. Their Transfiguration practical was proving difficult for many of the students and the blonde girl had been the first to do it.

The Slytherin students squirmed in their seats at the award to the rival house. It did seem that Dumbledore gave points more often to his own lions. Narrowing his eyes, Tom watched Pandora from across the room. He did not know her to be above average in Transfiguration class and wondered if something had prompted her to study harder. He made up his mind to speak to her after class. Then, unwilling to be one-upped by a Gryffindor, he regarded the goblet on his own desk. He had not even tried anything on it yet.

'Watch this,' he hissed to Lestrange.

Tom waved his wand and the goblet was a perfect brown gopher, sitting fat and furry on Tom's desk. 'How boring,' he said. He waved his wand again. The gopher squealed once as it turned into a monkey. The monkey had round brown eyes and soft white hair. 'That's better,' said Tom.

His Slytherin friends stared in awe. Animal-to-animal transfigurations were above OWL level. Tom caught Pandora's eye; she raised an eyebrow at him and turned her head away.

'What's this?' said Dumbledore mildly. 'My goodness, Tom. That was beyond the required assignment.'

'Yes, sir.' Behind Tom, the Slytherins snickered and elbowed each other, as if they could take some credit.

'A goblet into a gopher into a monkey,' said Dumbledore, stroking his beard. 'I am tempted to award points to Slytherin… that is quite a feat. However, compound Transfiguration is one of the more dangerous varieties of magic… it should not be used as an opportunity for showing off.'

'Yes, sir?' Tom said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

'I had no intention of that, sir,' said Tom. 'I merely wanted to see if it could be done. You wouldn't fault me for curiosity, would you, sir?'

A faint smile worked beneath Dumbledore's auburn beard. 'No, of course not,' he said understandingly. 'Twenty points to Slytherin. The rest of you please concentrate on gophers, not monkeys, and set to work, now.'

Tom noticed that Dumbledore kept watching him out of the corner of his eye for the remainder of class. When the bell rang he gathered his notebook quickly and dashed out of the room ahead of Pandora. Leaning up against the stone wall, he watched his fellow students file out of the classroom, finally spotting Pandora's golden head amongst the crowd. He called her name.

'Hi, Tom,' she said, a bit coolly.

'Want to go to the library for awhile?'

'Not especially,' she said. 'I've been studying a lot. I've had enough. It's a Friday afternoon.'

They set off walking down the corridor. Classes were out for the weekend; the first Hogsmeade weekend was the next day. 'What are you doing tomorrow?' Tom asked.

'Going to Hogsmeade.'

'Well, yeah…'

'Listen, Tom, do you have something to say to me?'

'Geez!' he said. 'What's eating you, Pandora?'

She pouted. 'Just your stupid fellow Slytherins keep trying to hex me and my friends.'

'I'm sorry,' Tom said. 'But I can hardly help that. Don't take it out on me.'

'Oh, you think I don't know you encourage them? They practically worship the ground you walk on. If you told them to stop, they'd stop. I know what you're like, Tom Riddle!'

He rolled his eyes. 'Look, if I said, 'Stop hexing the Gryffindors,' do you think they'd give a rat's tail? They'd just accuse me of sympathy toward Muggle-lovers.'

'Surely not with your… background,' Pandora said. It was to her credit that she said her last in a low whisper.

'I haven't said anything,' Tom mumbled.

'What?' A louder outburst. 'I'd have thought with your way of showing off, they would be calling you –'

'Shhh!' he implored her. 'Let's take a walk. The courtyard looks nice right now.' He veered off toward the courtyard at a quick pace, followed by Pandora. The sun was October-warm and fallen leaves skittered across the stone cobbles. Tom sat down on a stone bench with a view toward the fountain. A sulking Pandora sat next to him; not for the first time, Tom felt a tingle of irritation at Albus Dumbledore. He really did favour the Gryffindors. And how dare he accuse Tom of showing off?

'I've been wanting to talk to you,' Tom said in a straight, calm voice. He somehow knew which tone to use to get his way. It had always worked wonders on his mother and the adults around whom he'd spent his childhood.

'Yeah?' Pandora said. 'What, to make sure I haven't spilled your little secret?'

Tom frowned.

'Well, I haven't.'

'I knew I could trust you, Pandora!' Tom said.

'Hmmph,' she said, but seemed less annoyed with him. 'You really haven't told the other Slytherins?'

'No…' he said. 'Not yet, anyway.'

She nodded. 'All right, fine. I'm glad to talk to you, because I found out something you might be interested in. I checked out a book called Hogwarts: a History just to learn more about the Founders.'

'That was you!' Tom accused, but he was smiling. 'I was on the waiting list for weeks!'

'Ha! Riddle foiled at last in his plans!' Pandora laughed. 'So I guess you already know what I found.'

He sobered and glanced around to be sure no one was listening. Other than a group of first-years shoving each other around on the other side of the courtyard, they were alone. 'Page 716. It mentions something called the Chamber of Secrets.'

'You memorised the page number? You need your head checked,' said Pandora.

'Right, but the Chamber of Secrets,' Tom prompted.

'I read that, too. But do you think it's real? It could be just a myth.'

'It's real,' said Tom. 'I heard Walburga Black telling the story. Supposedly there's a monster down there that can only be controlled by the Heir of Slytherin.'

'But if there is a monster, it's probably dead by now,' said Pandora. 'It's been nearly a thousand years. Too bad. It would be fun to have a monster as a pet. We have a first-year who's obsessed with monsters... he brought ashwinders into the common room as pets. He's a nutter.'

Tom shrugged. He had no time to worry about the strange habits of Gryffindors. 'I suppose I'll keep searching the library for information,' he said. 'There must be something in there.'

Pandora looked at him sideways. A breeze swept through the courtyard, blowing her hair across her face, and she brushed it aside. 'The library. Yeah, right. Come on, Tom. If you won't be searching the dungeons for the Chamber of Secrets itself, then… then I'll eat my hat!'

'You're not wearing a hat,' he pointed out.

'Yes, well, I can wear one for the occasion,' she said. 'Let me help you look? Please?'

'No.'

'Pretty please? I'll follow you around. I'll stalk you. I want to see it.'

Tom let out a sigh. He was beginning to regret ever telling Pandora about being the Heir of Slytherin. She was insufferably annoying sometimes. But back in second year, he'd not been quite as confident amongst his Slytherin classmates, and had felt the need to tell his Gryffindor friend. Now the divide between them was widened. Growing up left little room for unconventional loyalties.

'No one else can know about this, Pandora,' Tom said seriously. 'Same as the rest. Not Wolfin, not any of your little friends, no one. If you say a peep…' he trailed off into silence, hoping she would imagine a variety of nasty results for herself if she crossed him.

'I can keep a secret,' she huffed.

'Fine. We'll begin the search on Halloween. And I have Quidditch practise.' He flashed a grin at her. 'Have to get in shape to beat Ravenclaw next weekend.'

'I won't be rooting for you,' she said. 'I've already pledged my loyalty to Carter! In Quidditch, Tom,' she said, seeing him narrow his eyes. She smirked. 'See you in Hogsmeade tomorrow. I'll be stocking up on the tools of my trade at Zonko's.'

'Good luck with that,' he said. He pointed a finger at her. 'Halloween.'

'Halloween!'

Tom had never been to Hogsmeade village. Despite having grown up in the wizarding world, there had never been a reason for him to see the place, and besides his mother did not know how to Apparate. She was embarrassed about this, and also about the fact that they had to use the public Floo network because they did not have a connected fireplace in their flat. Thus, Tom was well-travelled in Diagon Alley and in Muggle London, but nowhere else.

It was a novelty to see Britain's only all-wizarding village. It was more of a hamlet in Tom's opinion: one high street with several side alleys and streets branching off of it. A smattering of cottages hovered along the outskirts. The shops clustered together with stone walls and peaked roofs. On the first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year, the village was packed with Hogwarts students, banded together in large, laughing groups.

Tom had handed over his permission slip from his mother, stating he could visit Hogsmeade, and he was the de facto leader of the Slytherin third-year expedition. 'We'll go to Honeydukes' first,' Tom announced. 'I want some fudge.' He always acted as though he had money to burn. Most of the time, he was able to surreptitiously attach his purchases onto one of his schoolmates, usually Cornelius Nott or Leonidas Lestrange.

With his Slytherin crowd at his heels, Tom walked into Honeydukes', taking a deep breath of sweet-scented air. Toffee, chocolate, lemon, strawberry, mint, caramel… a million marvellous scents layered one on top of the other. He smiled. He'd always had an extraordinary sense of smell. Most of the time he resented it, because most human odours were not really worth the sense… except now, when he could almost taste the air and it was sweet indeed.

'Let's get some of those,' Tom said, pointing at a jar of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. He smirked as Nott dashed forward with a paper bag to put them in. 'And those,' he nodded at the sugar quills. Nott, distracted when Antonin Dolohov got his head dunked under the chocolate fountain, did not even notice when Tom gingerly added a half-pound of fudge in the bag.

Out the corner of his eye, Tom detected a quick motion to his left. Glancing over, he saw Scottie Mulciber swipe a couple of Chocolate Frogs and put them in his pocket. Tom narrowed his eyes. It did not surprise him that Mulciber was a thief. Had the boy not tried to bully Tom out of his money all those years ago on Diagon Alley? Quietly, Tom stepped up behind Mulciber. 'Going to pay for those, Scottie?'

Mulciber stiffened and turned to face Tom. Guilt was written in his eyes, guilt and defiance. 'So what? You gonna tell on me?'

'No,' said Tom slowly, 'but keep in mind that I know. I would hate to see you expelled for moral misconduct.' Tom knew that if he went to old Dumbledore with it, Mulciber would be suspended at the least. Hogwarts' staff were always going on about maintaining good 'relations' with the Hogsmeade townspeople and shop owners.

After the sweet shop, Tom was tempted to go to Zonko's, but he held his tongue as he saw Pandora with a group of rowdy Gryffindors. They pushed and shoved each other in their eagerness to get into the shop. Tom shook his head in distaste. Gryffindors were so boorish. 'Let's go the Hog's Head.'

'I don't think underage wizards are allowed in there,' said Leo Lestrange. 'Too bad. I could have some Firewhiskey.'

'They wouldn't serve that to you,' Tom said, rolling his eyes. 'You're going to grow up to be an alcoholic. You'll be fat like Slughorn.'

'I won't!' Lestrange protested. 'Three Broomsticks, then.'

'Fine,' said Tom, bored with Hogsmeade already. It was like Diagon Alley, except smaller and with less interesting inhabitants.

The Three Broomsticks was even more crowded than the street. Tom and his half-dozen Slytherin friends had to stand and wait for a table. It was most annoying. He saw a prime wooden booth in the corner occupied by third-year Hufflepuffs. They had finished their butterbeers and loitered at the table, empty glasses in front of them. Tom got an idea. 'Wait here,' he said.

Squeezing through the crowd, he approached the Hufflepuffs. He was glad that he was so tall because it made him more intimidating. 'You're done here, please,' he said to them. With blinking, round, stupid faces, they looked back at him. 'You heard me!' Tom said. 'Scram.'

'He can't do that,' whined a girl with wire-rim glasses. 'We've a right to sit here same as you.'

'He threatened to bar you from coming back,' Tom said, knitting his eyebrows in feigned concern. 'Sorry. I'm just the messenger. Old Mr. Rosmerta doesn't like crowds and you're taking up space.' He raised his hands but did not break stares with the students.

The Hufflepuffs were finished, anyway. This was what one of the boys grumbled as they vacated the booth and Tom waved his friends over.

'You're a legend, Riddle!' said Avery appreciatively as they squeezed into the warm wooden booth. 'What'd you do, threaten to hex them?'

'I have better methods,' said Tom. 'Mulciber, go get us some butterbeers.'

From across the room, a group of fourth- and fifth-year Slytherin girls waved at Tom and giggled into their hands. He looked away.

'They fancy you,' said Nott, wrinkling his nose as though it were a disease.

'Surprises you, does it?' Tom asked. He was just teasing, really; he could care less if girls 'fancied' him. He had far more important things to do than worry about girls. He'd had the occasional odd twinge of feeling at the thought of being alone with a girl, but those feelings were usually in his dreams, and Tom never set much store by dreams. Dream interpretation in Divination class was dumb enough without doing it in his spare time.

'I don't like girls,' said Nott. 'My little sister is such an obnoxious brat. And she's a girl.'

'You don't say,' said Tom.

'She always blames stuff on me. Mum just thinks she's so perfect. Psh.'

'Druella Rosier gave me a flower the other day,' Antonin Dolohov squeaked. His voice was still the soprano of a boy.

'Oooh, bully you,' Tom mocked. He did it because he enjoyed the flush of embarrassment on Dolly's face. 'Did she give you a kiss, too?'

'No,' Dolohov scowled. 'Ew! I would never kiss a girl!' he declared, to the laughter of the other boys.

Mulciber returned with an armful of butterbeers and the rest of the first visit to Hogsmeade passed in pleasantries.

Hogwarts Castle, Tom decided, was far too large for its own good. His feet hurt from walking. Nagini slithered along next to him; she kept whinging about how her scales were cold and why did she have to come with Tom, anyway?

'Because I told you to,' he hissed back at her. 'Now pipe down.'

An annoyed whistle came from her mouth, but no further comments.

As Tom walked, he munched on a bag of Cockroach Clusters. It was Halloween, the night with a late curfew, and most of his fellow students were still gorging themselves on sweets in the Great Hall. He'd taken great fistfuls of his favourite candy, as well as an entire treacle tart, and put the stash in his book bag. It made the cold corridors seem friendlier.

A wonderful opportunity, Halloween; the castle spirits were at the annual Death-Day Party of Gryffindor's pompous house ghost, and the teachers and students were busy rotting their teeth on toffee. Tom, meanwhile, was beginning his search. He was simultaneously optimistic and pessimistic. He felt that his heritage would lead him straight to the Chamber of Secrets and half-expected to find it that very night. However, he also realised that the huge castle would not give up its secrets easily.

As the night wore on, Tom's mood turned more toward pessimism. He had been wandering for an hour and there was nothing in this section of dungeon (near the Slytherin dormitories) to indicate anything interesting. He figured that Slytherin would have built the Chamber of Secrets below ground, or possibly below the lake, but the entrance could be anywhere. And it had to be well-concealed.

Tom sighed. Upstairs, his partner-in-crime, Pandora Piper, was still eating candy with her friends. She had told Tom she would meet him at nine to begin the search, but Tom was too eager to begin, and had left the Great Hall just as dessert appeared. Glancing at his Muggle watch, bought for him by his mother two years ago, Tom saw that it was ten minutes to nine.

'Oh, all right, go back to bed,' Tom told Nagini. The snake did not even thank him as she slithered off into the shadows. He muttered below his breath about how she was spoiled.

Once upstairs, he ran into a throng of students coming out of the Great Hall. The older students were energised and chattering; the younger students seemed lethargic, as though sated and wanting nothing more than to lay their small heads down on soft pillows. Tom was somewhere in the middle. He caught sight of Pandora and stepped aside to wait for her.

'Hi, Tom!' she said loudly.

'Shhh,' he said. 'I don't want any of your Gryffin-dumbs coming on our little mission.'

'You've made that very clear already,' Pandora said. 'I brought sweets!' She held up a bagful.

'I had the same idea,' Tom said, smiling and showing her the contents of his own bag.

'We're set then! Is… your familiar coming with us?'

'No, she wanted to sleep. I swear that snake is spoiled beyond repair. When she's at home, all she does is loll about next to the woodstove.'

'That's because she's cold-blooded. Just like you!'

'I am not cold-blooded,' said Tom. 'It's a good thing, too, because the dungeons are freezing. I've been down there for an hour already.'

'Eager beaver,' said Pandora.

'Don't you dare accuse me of being a beaver,' said Tom in dark tones.

'Hufflepuffs aren't that bad… they laugh even when they're the victims of a prank… hey, Tom, wait up!' Pandora ran to catch up with Tom, who was already halfway down the stairs to the dungeons. 'So what are we looking for, exactly?'

'I don't know,' Tom said slowly. 'I expect an entrance of some kind. It'll probably have a snake or serpent on it. Maybe a portrait or something… or a stone… or a statue. Blast it, I wish we would learn advanced revealing spells already!'

'Don't swear.'

'I mean, a simple Revelio isn't going to do it. No way. Salazar Slytherin would be more clever than that, and someone would have found the Chamber already.'

'If it exists,' said Pandora. 'What if it doesn't?'

Tom glowered at her. 'Then go back to your dumb-dumb tower. I don't care.'

Pandora huffed in similar annoyance. 'I'm just saying, be prepared! I think it exists, or I hope it exists, because that would be the bees' knees.'

A reluctant laugh erupted from Tom's lips. 'The bees' knees?'

'Yah.'

'Come on. Let's start down this corridor.'

The excitement of searching for a secret chamber soon wore off. Tom and Pandora finished off the treacle tart, the sweets, the fudge, and were left with cold hands and tired legs. Through abandoned corridors they trudged, opening doors, finding disused classrooms, storage closets, and (by accident) Professor Slughorn's private quarters. Tom had used an Alohamora charm to open the door, to find his Head of House sprawled on a plush red velvet sofa, snoring loudly, a near-empty bottle of mead resting on the table. They had crept back out as quietly as they could and then dissolved into noiseless laughter. A few minutes later, the night gloom was back.

'I'm tired,' Pandora said at ten-thirty.

'Curfew's not until midnight tonight, it's Halloween,' said Tom. 'It's a good night for uncovering secret things.'

'We're not going uncover anything if my eyelids freeze over,' she said.

'Your eyes won't freeze over!' Tom scoffed at her drama. 'It's not near cold enough.'

'Still,' said Pandora. 'We haven't found anything. No snakes or serpents. No secret passages.'

'Mmm,' said Tom. 'I reckon we could try again during the weekend.'

'Not during Quidditch,' Pandora reminded him. 'Did I tell you I'm trying out for Chaser next year?'

'Better watch out. Our Slytherin Beaters are ruthless.'

'Slytherin everything is ruthless,' said Pandora. 'I'm not scared of you lot. Come on, Tom, let's go to bed.'

Silence. Tom felt a squirm of embarrassment and he had no idea why. Suddenly he wished to be alone, to be in his own common room with a book, and nowhere near Pandora Piper. 'Yah, I'm tired,' he said a half-second too late to prevent the awkwardness. 'I assume you can find your own way back to the lion's den.'

'Yep!' Pandora said brightly, apparently unaware of Tom's odd moment. 'G'night.' She skipped off down the deserted hallway, twirling her hair braid in her fingers.