A/N: I found this difficult to write. Tom's part, at least. I'm still not too sure if I'm satisfied or not...hmm, well, anywho. I could seriously use any-and I mean ANY-suggestion as to where I could possibly take this. I sort of still have some idea, but for the most part, I'm not one hundred percent. So thanks, and happy reading! :)

011

Chapter Eleven: Slytherin's Heir

"Ladies first," said Tom, nudging her toward the hole.

With more than a little trepidation, Lizbeth glanced down, trying in vain to see anything besides darkness. "Is it safe?"

Her best friend let out a dry chuckle. "Perfectly safe, I assure you, though a bit dirty. Now, go." And the statement was again a demand. "I'll be right behind you."

Sure he would most likely throw her in if she didn't move, she took one last deep breath and dropped off into the darkness. It was like falling down a massive slide, one with dirt and grime coating the sides. She noticed other pipes branching off in different directions but didn't take too much care for it as the pipe she was in took harsh turns, twisting and sloping to who knew where. Just when she thought it couldn't end, she was flung out over open air, only for a moment, and then she fell to the ground with a thud. Tom landed next to her a second later, though it was clear he'd been here before because he'd managed to land on his feet.

Giving her a faint smirk, he yanked her to her feet, brandishing his wand. "This way, Lizbeth." Casting a Lumos, he pulled her along and she decided she definitely didn't want to know what the crunch beneath her feet was. The tunnel they were in, for there was nothing else it could be, went on for what seemed like miles, turning every now and then, and just when she thought it would never end, they stopped at a dead end. A wall stood in front of them; two snakes were carved on the stone. Their emerald eyes looked eerily alive.

A low hiss came from Tom, and Lizbeth swiveled to look at him. He just smiled at her, a flash of white in the darkness. The wall cracked open, and he took her hand gently, pulling her with him inside. They were in a long, dimly lit chamber with stone pillars supporting the ceiling.

"Where are we?" asked Lizbeth, turning to look at him.

"The Chamber of Secrets." And it was the way he said it that made her shiver; the triumphant, excited, proud, tone that had her skin crawling. She knew he was a prideful person—what man wasn't—but she'd never heard it sound so…wrong before, not coming from him. Malfoy maybe, but never Tom. This Chamber of Secrets was important to him; not the discovery of it, per say, but just the mere existence of it meant something to him. What that was, Lizbeth wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Why then?" she said, gazing up at a great stone statue of what looked to be—was that? She squinted hard in the dark, blinking in surprise when she recognized the face. "Slytherin," she whispered, realization dawning on her fast. "Slytherin who could easily control a massive snake…Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts…Slytherin who made and hide the basilisk in the Chamber of secrets?" This last was a question, to which Tom nodded in affirmation. Lizbeth let out a breath that was more sigh than anything. "Okay. And you find this all important why?"

"You are a pureblood, right, Lizbeth?" he said, ignoring her question.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, I am, but I don't really see what that has to do with a basilisk or this place or why we're here."

"It has everything to do with it. Wizards have become too lenient of muggles infecting our society, especially here at Hogwarts." This last bit he said with a sneer of disgust.

Lizbeth was hardly surprised; many students in Slytherin had that pureblood mentality, the idea that only those of pureblood lineage were true wizards and anyone else was seen as inferior. Tom himself was a half-blood, but he had made it crystal clear early on in their friendship that he despised his muggle side. Her own feelings toward the subject varied greatly from her friends'. The girl had been raised by parents who, while they hadn't thought of muggles as equals, had not pushed the idea of pureblood rule onto their children. Though the aunt she and Laurie now lived with did, the sisters had already had some clue as to their own thoughts about muggles, muggle-borns, and even half-bloods. Lizbeth had the same thoughts as her parents in regards to muggles: she believed that wizards, any wizard, was superior because of their magical ability; but for the most part, she thought that muggles were just there and weren't anything significant enough for her to be bothered by.

As for muggle-borns...well, she didn't necessarily dislike them—Lucy was, after all, of muggle blood—but she wasn't a great advocate of muggle-born rights. She basically saw them the same way she saw muggles-except for those she was friends with, of course.

"Okay," Lizbeth said slowly, still struggling to understand. "Call me slow, but I still don't quite understand what this basilisk has to do with why you hate muggles, Tom."

He was patient with her, as he always was. He spread his arms, gesturing to the space around them, and began to walk the perimeter of the room, circling her like a predator on the prowl. "Well, it comes down to this, Lizbeth," he explained. "I've recently discovered that I'm the heir of Slytherin. As you probably are already aware of, Slytherin was a supporter of preserving pureblood purity, and I've taken it upon myself to...act on those beliefs, and the basilisk will help to achieve the goals I have."

Lizbeth wasn't one hundred percent sure how to respond to his confession. On the one hand, she supposed she could see where he was coming from, given his beliefs and moral standards. He hadn't expletively stated he was using the beast to harm others, so it wasn't as if what he were doing was wrong...Is this what you'll become, Tom? Are these the first sparks of the darkness that will tear your soul to shreds?

She stared at her friend, saw the gleam in his eyes-and felt something pool in the center of her gut. She couldn't name the emotion even if she wanted to.

"Why tell me this?" she managed to croak out.

Tom smiled at her, and it was difficult to tell whether it was genuine or not. "For two reasons. You're my best friend, Lizbeth, and I don't know for how much longer I could have hidden it from you. And secondly, I believe that your special gift could greatly help my cause." He came to stand in front of her, his lanky frame towering over her smaller figure. It was at once both intimidating and reassuring to have him so near.

She still didn't know what to do; her mind was a grand chaotic jumble of thoughts and feelings too scattered to sort through. This was Tom, her best friend. Sure, there were moments when he'd lose control and express a darker side of himself—but didn't everyone have those? It didn't necessarily guarantee he was a bad person, and Lizbeth still had trouble—despite her vivid visions stating otherwise—believing that he was truly evil. Nevertheless, she knew it was still her mission to save him from falling even farther into the darkness she could already see he was in.

" I…I don't know what to say," she admitted, because anything else would have been too obvious a lie.

His smile grew softer. "That's alright; I can't imagine that you would, actually. To be honest, I hadn't even planned it to happen this way. I was going to lead you along slowly, let you get accustomed to it first, but you sped things up."

"Right, following you into the bathroom probably wasn't the best idea, now that I think about it," she mumbled.

He laughed a high sound that echoed around the chamber. "No, it wasn't. Why were you following me anyway?"

As innocent as the question sounded, Lizbeth knew there was an undercurrent of tightly concealed anger coiling beneath the inquiry. Now was the time for her to really test her ability to lie. Or lack of.

"I was curious," she said, thinking fast. "It's the visions I have sometimes. They were vague, but, as you already seem to know, were about you and a basilisk. I wanted to know what it was about, so I decided to follow you around. I didn't even think I'd see anything of real worth, but," she shrugged. "Here we are."

"I see. You could have just asked me, you know."

"Yes, but then I'd have to explain my premonitions and—"

"…that would have been difficult for you," he finished for her, nodding. "I completely understand, Lizbeth." He offered her his arm. "I think it would be for the best if I should you the basilisk another time," he said as Lizbeth slipped her arm in his. "It's late and I can tell this is a bit too much for you at the moment. You need time to understand before you decided."

"Yeah," she said, grateful at the chance to finally leave. "I think I do.

0000

"Psst! Lizzie, wake up!"

Lizbeth wearily cracked open one eye, spying in the darkness the form of her older sister. She was leaning on the bed, her dark hair shrouding her face like a curtain. "Come on, up and at em," she whispered, waiting until Lizbeth sat up before she moved away. "Tell me what happened."

Lizbeth sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Can't we wait to do this until the morning? You're the one who had me skulking around the castle till the wee hours. I need some sleep."

"Nope," Laurie said, now sitting cross-legged on the bed. "I just know something happened tonight, and I want to know so we can make future plans. You can sleep all you wish afterword."

Knowing resistance against her sister was futile, Lizbeth resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be getting her precious rest for a little while longer. "Okay, fine, but I don't want to hear any more plans tonight. Bombard me with suggestions tomorrow, or even the next day is fine. Agreed?"

Laurie nodded. "Agreed. And just so you know, I found nothing. I spent hours searching and I came up with nothing. It's highly disappointing."

"That's because I know where the basilisk is, Laurie," said Lizbeth, picking at the loose threads in her bedclothes.

Her sister's eyes went wide and her eyebrows shot to her hairline. "Really? That's great. Where is it then?"

"Before that, I have to tell you what Tom was doing," she said, and then the truth of that night came pouring from her mouth like a water spicket. When she finished, the emotions displayed on Laurie's face would have been highly comical in any other circumstance.

"That's incredible, Liz," she finally said, blinking away her shock. "So he figured it out, huh? Damn, that boy is smarter than I originally gave him credit for. Do you think he knows I have them too?"

Lizbeth shrugged. "Who knows? Probably, if he were able to figure it out with me. But, then again, he does spend most of his time with me and not you, and as far as I know he might not think it's hereditary. I don't really want to ask him. I think it would be for the better if he assumed I'm the only one with the gift—as he deemed it."

Laurie nodded. "I agree. And as much as I want to interrogate you about this matter further, I think you deserve some sleep, especially after all that happened today. Good job, Liz," her sister praised before patting her briefly on the head and then leaving her alone.

Lizbeth fell back against the pillows—and, for the first time in she didn't know how long, fell into a dreamless slumber.

0000

"So what are you going to do?" Laurie asked.

The Blackrose sisters were currently on a leisurely stroll across the grounds. It was mid-November and a heavy blanket of snow covered the castle; few people were risking the harsh weather which was why they'd decided on the walk.

"I don't know," Lizbeth breathed, watching as her breath came out in a puff of air. "It's not as if I believe in his ideals, but…"

"You don't think they're all that wrong either," her sister supplied. "I understand. It's hardly fair, given how…strange and possibly evil he might turn out to be, but Tom does have some good points. Since we aren't too certain on the method he's using, I can't say if I completely agree myself, but it makes sense to some extent."

"I know. So you see my problem?"

Laurie nodded. "Plus, who's to say the boy won't crack and then try to threaten you if you refuse."

"Laurie!" Lizbeth admonished, smacking her lightly on the arm. "He wouldn't. I wouldn't let him," she said firmly when Laurie sent her a disbelieving stare.

"I know you wouldn't, but still, I wouldn't put it past him to do it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. In any way," she added, a serious note in her voice.

"I know, Laurie, but you are the one who suggested this whole 'mission' in the first place," Lizbeth pointed out. "If you didn't want me to get hurt, you should have done it yourself."

Laurie barked out a laugh. "Yeah, as if that would have worked. Riddle's got eyes only for you, Lizzie."

Lizbeth dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "I'm sure he does."

"Well, it is true. I can see it! Why do you think Malfoy's been avoiding you since that trip to Hogsmeade?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Tom got jealous of the time you two were spending together and threaten Malfoy to back off," her sister said matter-o-factly.

Lizbeth shook her head. "No, that's crazy. We've been through this before, remember? Tom doesn't get jealous. It's not in his nature. And especially not for something involving me." The sheer notion of Tom ever…no, it was too ridiculous to even consider for more than a second.

"Hmm, whatever you say, Liz. By the way, what are your feelings for him anyway?"

They were nearing the great lake now, where a few brave souls were Transfiguring their boots into ice skates as a means to move around on the frozen water. Those who did weren't very good at it; several of the kids slipped and skidded on the surface, tripping over clumsy feet. Lizbeth stopped and watched them for a moment while she tried to assess her feelings toward her best friend.

Just how did she feel about him anyway? They'd been friends for so long she'd hardly ever thought about him in any other way. But she had thought of him as something else, something more, at one point or another, and that was the whole point, wasn't it? She couldn't say for sure what it was yet, but she had the feeling that she would come to realize what they were soon enough.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I truly…do not know."