Hello, my lovelies! I am back and this time I have prepared for you a ridiculously long and complicated chapter! Yes, I think it might be my longest yet, but you guys are worth it and of course, this story needs a lot of dedication. Thanks a bunch to all the wonderful reviewers, anonymous or not, for taking time to read and review, I appreciate it! :) This story wouldn't be where it is without you!

Now, this chapter marks the end of the first part. No worries however! Second Part will be continued normally as Chapter 22. But after this chapter, we're going to change the perspective. It won't be Jane/Hermione's point of view anymore, because we get to the serious, action-filled (hopefully) adventure part of the story and everyone will be on the run, especially our two leads :P

Oh and if the ending of this chapter is confusing, never fear, it will all make sense very soon, in Part II. As for Tom and Hermione, I would like to warn everyone that their relationship will be tricky and complicated in Part II. They will still be enemies, but we will see a gradual shift. Just letting you know in advance so you will know what to expect and hopefully, you will keep reading.

The title of this chapter will make sense latter in the chapter, if you were wondering. Also, I hope I haven't made any weird grammar mistakes. I revised the chapter, but I wrote so much I feel a bt worn-out. My typical excuse:)

Have fun reading! And please leave a review if you'd like to share some thoughts on this chapter!

P.S. The song is a tribute to Deathly Hallows, but it also goes insanely well with the chapter, in my opinion. It's sung by my darling Nick Cave, whom I adore and it is used in the dancing scene between Harry and Hermione :)

Hey, little train! Wait for me!
I once was blind but now
I see, have you left a seat for me?
Is that such a stretch of the imagination?

Hey little train! Wait for me!
I was held in chains but now I'm free
I'm hanging in there, don't you see
In this process of elimination

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - O' Children

Chapter 21: Pure and Holy

I was fairly conscious that I was asleep. I was also fairly conscious that I was about to wake up any moment now. That is because I was now trapped in that realm of half-sleep, half-wakefulness. I was out of the land of dreams but not yet back in the real world.

And in this realm, which cannot be defined in eloquent terms unless one experiences it, I thought I had found a way to understand myself. I thought I had found a chance to see into myself and into my dreams. I thought I could look over the sequences as if I were watching a movie.

The images passed before my eyes very fast, so fast indeed that I was more tormented than relieved to recapture them. Some of them were singled out clearly in my head, but they were not significant, or at least I thought they were not. And some of them, the ones I deigned more important, slipped before me like the waters of a river.

Wishing to conserve those precious dreams (or images of dreams), I thought speaking would somehow reconnect me to them.

So I asked, with all the sincerity that my heart could muster:

'Why did Salazar Slytherin die by my hands?'

It was the first question I literally thought of, because it was the one question that was most mystifying for me.

There came no vocal answer, but once again, I saw the fragments of some images.

And what I saw frightened me terribly. I thought I would relive his death; that I would see his lifeless body cast over his seat. I even extended my hands to touch his still face again.

But instead of a carriage, I saw a grave. It was actually a morsel of land but I could see the indents of a grave that had been dug there. It looked like a very old grave, almost imperceptible if one did not inspect it more closely, because it was covered by all sorts of plants and ferns.

And from this old grave, I saw a black snake immerging. It shot out of the cold soil and into the air. It landed on its tail on the ground. The ground was frozen. It was very cold outside. It looked like the creature was shivering. But then it started hissing maliciously, as if it was hungry.

I waited for the snake to attack me, but it remained poised on its tail, spitting out venomous words, no doubt. I realized I was not part of that dream. I would soon wake up. So he could not really hurt me, because I was in a different realm from his. I was just a spectator.

But I wondered why I had seen this and for what purpose.

Instead I heard a voice. A soothing, warm, calm voice that was lulling me into a state of listlessness.

I knew it was not the school nurse, her voice was stiff and hoarse. This one was as gentle as it could be. I rummaged through my head, trying to think of who it could be.

'Hermione.'

My eyes flew open instantly. There was only one person who called me that. My first reaction was to look around the room, to see if anyone had heard that. The Infirmary looked deserted. My bed was soaked in my sweat. I let out a breath and looked into Dumbledore's shimmering blue eyes, always the same pure shade, never wavering.

'Sir...'

'You have been sleeping for a while now. Are you alright?'

'I think so...' I said, rubbing my forehead. 'I was dreaming. But the basilisk, that was not a dream, was it?'

Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

'Sir, please...is everyone alright?' I asked wincing.

'Yes, everyone is safe for now, fortunately...'

'And...and the Chamber?'

'We have found it. A peculiar place for Salazar's secret room, I confess. It is still open, but entirely empty, I'm afraid.'

I nodded my head in fear.

Why was he being so calm, so collected about this entire situation? Why wasn't he worrying and panicking? Yes, he was Dumbledore, the greatest sorcerer alive, but a gigantic magical beast had just escaped Hogwarts. Was that not something to consider?

'Sir, the basilisk...'

'Has escaped. Yes, we have discovered that also. It was quite impossible to miss the tunnel he had caved from its old residence to the Black Lake. However, we have sent owls to the ministry informing them of the current situation and search parties have been formed all across the country. The Department of Control of Magical Creatures has promised to appoint some of their best men on the job.'

'Somehow that does not make me feel any better.'

'I know, I share your feelings exactly. One should not put all their faith in the Ministry. They tend to disappoint. Which is why I took the liberty to come and talk to you. Though you are barely recovering, I need you to tell me everything that happened.'

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and looked down at my bruised hands.

Where could I possibly begin?

How could I possibly begin to explain everything that had happened? How could he understand?

I was too tired to tell him everything. I didn't really want to share all that I knew. It was not only because it would be hard to make myself understood, but also because I was not sure how Dumbledore would use this information. He was prone to make his own decisions, without consulting others. He might choose to use what I told him in a way that would not suit me.

It was at this point that I realized with sadness that Dumbledore was far away from me. He was sitting on a stool by my bed, but he couldn't possibly be further away. Many, many years stood between us.

He was just another teacher at Hogwarts now, not the dependable Headmaster I always ran to in times of need. I still had the same respect for him. I valued his mind and his magical abilities. I was also aware that he was a kind and diligent wizard who helped those in need without thinking of himself.

And yet, it was this last trait that drew me away.

This unusual habit of his of helping unconditionally, this altruistic behaviour that stretched beyond normal limits, it was so well instilled in his mind that, he could not perceive acting in any other way. And if he saw fit to help, he helped without the other person's conscious approval. He helped no matter the consequences at stake. And if in doing so he had to use certain methods, if he had to sacrifice certain things or make certain compromises, he wouldn't fall short from doing just that. The danger that was Albus Dumbledore was that once he started helping, he would never stop.

Therefore, I just could not confide in him as I used to. I could not put my faith in him and hope for the best.

No one seemed to deserve my trust in this world. Least of all Dumbledore, who had surmised who I was and where I had come from and still persisted in keeping me here against my will.

'Are you sure, Sir, that everyone is safe? No one looked in the creature's eyes?' I asked, trying to stall.

'I can assure you no student was harmed. It is true that some parents decided to take their children home for a period of time, but most of them are in class or in their dorms, safe from any sort of danger.'

'I see...I am glad.'

'Now, Jane, are you going to tell me?'

'I can't talk here, in the Infirmary,' I blurted out.

'We are completely alone,' he said, looking around. 'I have charmed the Infirmary and made sure no one would bother us. You are free to speak now.'

Panic rushed through my veins again. We were completely alone and he had probably cast a silencing charm on the Infirmary. He had made sure no one would disturb us.

In other words, I was trapped in my bed. And I probably would not be able to reach the doors without him stopping me.

'There's not much to say,' I mumbled, ransacking my brain for a good excuse.

I realized in horror that the only person I really wanted to talk with right now was Tom Riddle. He knew everything that had happened and we were in this together.

'You saw what happened. The basilisk escaped from the Chamber,' I muttered.

'Yes, but Mr. Riddle opened the Chamber, am I correct?'

'I thought no one knew about this so-called secret.'

'Well, there were some of us who had our suspicions, I more than others.'

My anger instantly flared up at his confession.

'But you did not dare act on them,' I retorted, looking away. 'You let a young girl die because you were not sure.'

'Now, Jane, that is an unfair accusation.'

'No, it is not. You know, it is not. I'm sorry, Sir, but Hogwarts is not as safe as you think it is. It never was. And you wilfully refuse to see that! Your students are in danger because you let this happen!'

Dumbledore's shoulders sagged with the weight of my accusations. He seemed to be growing older right before me. His long white beard looked longer, his face more wrinkled and worn out.

His eyes, however, still as defiant and blue as ever.

'I tried my best to protect this school, but you will agree that I could not do it alone.'

I clamped my mouth shut. I knew he was right. He was the only teacher here that was not under some form of illusion.

'We must lock up the Chamber and find the monster,' I concluded.

'And what about Mr. Riddle?' Dumbledore asked, coughing. 'He is guilty of opening the Chamber again.'

I clenched my fists. 'No, it wasn't just him.'

'You mean someone helped him?'

'No, I just...I told him to do it.'

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up in the air.

'Why would a Muggleborn ask Mr. Riddle to open the Chamber?'

'It was the basilisk venom. We needed basilisk venom,' I ruefully confessed.

'Why would you need that?'

I shut my mouth again and looked out the window. I did not want to answer, nor did I feel capable to do that.

'Jane, you need to be honest with me. I cannot help you otherwise.'

'I don't. I don't need your help. May I please see Tom Riddle?'

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head.

'I'm afraid you cannot.'

'Where is he? Have you taken him somewhere?' I asked, growing restless.

'Mr. Riddle is gone.'

It took half a second to register that.

'What - ?'

'He...he is gone, Jane. We have searched for him everywhere. He's not to be found. The last time we saw him was by the Black Lake.'

'How could he have vanished out of Hogwarts?'

'We believe he followed the beast into the Dark Forest.'

I pressed a hand over my mouth. 'No...Why did he do that? Idiot!'

'We have sent wizards to look for him, but we've found nothing.'

My shoulders sagged.

'He followed the beast,' I repeated hollowly. 'That makes no sense. He knows it would be futile! How can he hope to...'

'I don't know what Mr. Riddle hopes to achieve by that, but it may not be what you expect,' Dumbledore replied.

'No matter, he shouldn't have disappeared like that. Why didn't he wait? He is such a stubborn git!'

'I agree. But I suppose he has always been impulsive.'

'He's a coward that's what he is,' I spat.

'A coward for leaving Hogwarts, or for leaving you alone?' Dumbledore asked, raising a brow.

'What do you mean?'

'Well, he was the only other person who knew about this affair, wasn't he? You could only confide in him.'

The full-effect of this truth sank in much later. For now, I was just angry.

'No, I couldn't,' I said miserably. 'He is not worthy of my confidence.'

'We will find him, Jane.'

'I don't really care,' I muttered.

'I know you do.'

'No, you do not, Sir. You don't know anything about me. Please stop talking as if you did.'

'But we can't find him unless you tell me what you wanted to do with the basilisk venom,' he continued undeterred.

'I cannot tell you.'

'Why not? I might be of help. I always try to help those in need of it.'

'Because, Sir,' I said swallowing. 'You can't help me with this. And I don't need it.'

'You might not know you do. You came to me once with some curious parchments, Miss Greystone...'

'And nothing ever came out of that,' I said quickly.

'If it is Dark Magic you are dealing with, I must tell you, you cannot do this alone.'

'I won't even try. I am done with it. The object has been destroyed by the basilisk, in any case.'

Dumbledore sighed and rose from his seat. He walked towards a cabinet.

'Are you going to use Veritaserum on me?' I asked, feeling a bit panicky.

'No, that is not my personal tactic. I don't like using those means on students,' he said coldly. I instantly regretted the accusation.

When he returned, he was holding something in his hands. My eyes widened in shock. I started trembling.

'I happened to find this interest object on you. If I am not mistaken, it is one of Rowena Ravenclaw's magical objects. The lost diadem. It is said to have been hidden in Hogwarts. I see you've found it.'

I tried reaching for it, but he snatched it away.

'When you are ready to tell me more, Miss Greystone, I shall let you have the diadem,' he said smiling.

With that, he bid me good night and walked out of the Infirmary.

I felt my head very heavy as it fell on my pillow.

Tom Riddle was gone. And Dumbledore had taken my diadem. Rowena's diadem that is.

I felt a painful churn in my stomach.

Everything was going extremely wrong.

I wanted to escape. I wanted to see my parents. I wanted them to hug me and tell me that I was their strong girl and that everything would be alright. I wanted to see Harry play Quidditch again. I wanted to see his shaggy hair and large, cracked glasses. I wanted to laugh with the twins, I wanted Ginny to braid my hair, I wanted Mrs. Weasley to kiss me on my forehead like she usually did and make me pancakes, I wanted McGonagall to stay with me after class and talk to me about my future as a bright Mediwitch or a brilliant Auror.

And I wanted Ron to...

What did I want from him?

I wanted him to tell me that I would remember, some day.

But if I had a time-turner with me right now, if I was holding that tiny hourglass in my hand, would I use it? Would I turn it in my fingers and hope to wake up to a brand new world?

No. I couldn't do that anymore.

I couldn't try and run into the present. Because whether I liked it or not, this was my present. And I had to undo the present I had created. I was responsible for this present and its consequences in my future.

When I was given back my clothes, I discovered I still had the key I had extracted from the stone snake in the Chamber of Secrets. I felt a bit safer knowing I had the key on my side. Even if the diadem was far from my reach.

I did not know what sort of key this was. I certainly did not know what it could open. I was sure though (more like had a feeling) that it could come in handy soon, that it was an object I had to keep, much like the diadem.

But the key did not hold the same spell on me. It was an interesting and mysterious object, but not as enticing as the diadem. Because the diadem exuded much more power, whereas the key was a simple instrument that would probably unlock other powers.

I almost felt these thoughts I was having weren't mine. That someone else was thinking them for me.

I shuddered to think that Salazar or anyone else had access to my private thoughts. When I was awake I was fairly safe. But when I fell into unconsciousness, I was a goner.

Right now, there were two things on my mind, or two persons, if you will: Tom and Salazar.

I wish I knew the whereabouts of the first and the mysterious signs of the latter.

The dream still puzzled me greatly, more so now that Tom had vanished. And Rowena Ravenclaw's song was stuck in my mind like a lullaby mothers would sing their children before going to bed.

Having no other possible solution at hand, I retreated my steps to the place where everything had begun; the library.

It was now around nine in the evening. It was also Friday. As expected, there was no one there.

I found my way to the Restricted Section again. The problem was that I did not know what I was looking for exactly. I did not know how or with what to begin my search. I usually had my own system of finding certain books or certain pieces of information.

Right now, there were many ideas floating in my head, some related to dream, some related to death, but none very clear.

The Restricted Section was locked. I realized with chagrin that Tom had the key.

I cursed loudly.

'Ahem...can I help you?'

I almost jumped out of my skin. It was the young librarian again. She had an aloof expression on her face.

'Oh, no not really,' I said waving my hand. 'I just wanted to get into the Restricted Section, but I don't have the key.'

'Well, you should talk to...'

'My House Prefect, I know. I am one. But the other Prefect has the key.'

'Oh, well then, that's too bad...' she said, shrugging her shoulders. 'Normally, I would give you a key as well, but we're a bit short on those. We've only got four keys, one for each House and two for the Heads of House.'

'I understand. It's quite alright. I don't suppose I'll find anything relevant anyway...'

The young girl arched her back and threw me an odd look.

'How do you mean? A library always has an answer. You just need to know what you're looking for.'

I stared at her confused.

'That means libraries are still limited, since they lack the means of telling us what to look for,' I explained.

She scratched her head and laughed.

'Well, that's why I'm here silly! I can tell you!'

I smiled awkwardly at her.

'Yes, I know, but I'm afraid you can't help me. I'm not saying you are not able, it's just that...well...'

'Well, what? What are your objections?' she asked, biting one of her nails. 'Ouch, I think I broke one of them. God, it takes hours to redo them, but I can't stop biting them. Such a bad habit, I know. It's just I'm never pleased with their shape.'

I rolled my eyes in frustration.

'Well, you seem much more preoccupied with other things...' I began.

'Oh, don't worry! I can fix my nails and help you at the same time!' she said cheerfully.

'No, I wouldn't want to impose. Are you sure you have no spare key?'

'No, and frankly, I don't see the big fuss about it anyway.'

'Sorry?'

'Honey, the Restricted Section isn't as mighty as you think it is. Just because it has the word Restricted, it doesn't mean it has anything more useful in it. Really, it's a sad, sad disguise.'

I opened my mouth in shock.

'Excuse me?'

'Well, you children will read just about anything that says Restricted over it,' she said rolling her eyes. 'So of course they put the most useless and basic textbooks there and spiced them up a little with some controversial magical research that none of you would understand anyway.'

I wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but I was completely baffled.

I had never heard her speak so eloquently before. Nor had I heard any librarian speak this way in a long while.

Her reasoning suddenly made sense. Those books hadn't been of much help when I first found them, but were not entirely devoid of some interesting, yet altogether harmless facts.

She was right. We found theory, but since we did not know how to apply it, it remained safely cryptic. This had been an old complaint of mine. It was comforting to hear someone else make a point of it.

'No one bothers to search this entire library which has much more to offer than that Section. You pick the easy way out by going there. Teachers are usually smarter than that,' she said, staring at her nails again.

'Then...then tell me where to find the books I need if you claim to be the expert,' I said, eyeing her suspiciously.

'Well, tell me what you're interested in,' she said, smiling eagerly.

'Magical dreams and their meanings, but not your standard textbook on dreams, I need something more concrete. I need something that would tell me more about the connection between dreams and reality, and how dreams can magically influence reality,' I said in one breath, fearing that she wouldn't understand otherwise.

'Hmm,' she said, frowning. 'Interesting topic you picked. Mighty fine one. Haven't heard such a topic in years.'

'Years? You mean you've heard it before?'

'Oh, yes, when I read the books on Magical Dreams,' she said wistfully. 'I quite fancied those.'

'And you happened to find that subject in your reading?'

'I suppose so. I read all of them after all.'

My eyes widened.

'All?'

'Well, all from this library and the one at the Ministry,' she explained smiling.

'Wait, were you particularly interested in this subject?'

'Well, not necessarily. I was interested in all subjects. I just read through all of them, well most of them that is,' she said, chuckling to herself.

'Most of them? How many?'

'Oh, I can't count them all!'

'Then an estimate?'

'Well, I've read just about every book in this library, although new publications appear each month and it's hard to keep track. And I've read the one at the Ministry and half of the Gringotts library which is truly a bore, too much mathematics and economics, and the Public Library at Diagon Alley, also the Vault of Sacred Documents in London and the Magical Archives in France, although my French is a bit rusty now,' she said, scratching her head.

I was speechless.

'You read all that?'

'You look surprised. Why does everyone look surprised when I tell them? See, this is why I tell few people,' she said pouting.

'Who are you exactly?' I asked bewildered. 'I haven't met someone like you before.'

'Oh, I'm Annie,' she said extending her hand. I shook it.

'Annie Irma Pince that is. My mum really loved the name Irma for some reason. But I prefer Annie,' she said grinning.

'Irma Pince?' I exclaimed. 'You are Irma Pince?'

'Am I popular in the wizardly community then?' she asked laughing.

'No, but...well, I am just in shock. I didn't expect you to be like this at all.'

'I bet you didn't. I get this reaction loads of times. But I learned to cope. You look like a good reader too, Miss er...'

'It's Jane,' I mumbled.

'Jane, you look like a good reader too. I bet conversing with you would prove really interesting. Don't get a lot of that around here,' she said smiling sweetly.

'Miss Pince, I mean Annie, I'd be happy to talk to you if you could just help me with the book I need.'

'Sure thing. Step into my little room then. I'll make some nice tea. I'll even fix my nails while you look.'

I quickly found out what she meant by looking.

When I walked through the small door that led to her room, I found myself at the beginning of a long and sinuous corridor.

It was fairly dark and dusty. The floor was made of long wooden boards that creaked heavily when I stepped on them.

The corridor was filled with ominous shadows that just lingered around corners, waiting to swallow any possible source of light, which right now was Irma's wand.

'Up the stairs,' she said, taking my hand.

I saw, on a closer inspection, that the walls were covered in books, hundreds and hundreds of books, all named alphabetically, according to author and subject.

There were books under the staircase as well.

And in the room above, there were books just about everywhere, except for a small dressing table that was free of any paper and was instead filled with perfumes, nail polishes, lipsticks and other such cosmetics. There was a large gilded mirror above it that looked old and stained. There were a lot of photographs pinned to the frames. When I took a closer look, I realized they were all pictures of dogs.

I raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Why would anyone have so many photographs of dogs? It reminded me of Umbridge's teacup collection. I shuddered involuntarily.

There was also a heavy drawer in a corner whose doors swung to and fro. It was filled to the brim with work clothes from what I could gather. I saw a Hogwarts uniform too. Ravenclaw of course.

The room was lit by a large lamp just above our heads that floated around the room. It had five light bulbs in it. Every one of them had a different label. There was one called 'Reading', one 'Writing', one 'Skimming', one 'Browsing', and one 'Listening to Music.'

There was a huge radio atop a large brown tome. She turned it on and switched the last light bulb on.

Then she went into an adjacent room where she held a tiny kitchenette.

'Feel free to look over the books. But you'll have to turn the lamp to Browsing,' she said from the next room.

'I have my own collection of rare books. Basically all the stuff that should be in the Restricted Section,' she added.

I sat down on a small stool nearby, trying to recover from the shock of discovering that Irma Pince had been quite the young rebellious woman in her day and that she hadn't always worn a bun and a sad, disappointed frown on her face. I wondered what had happened to turn her into the somewhat cold and cynical old lady that she was in the present.

But something pricked me. I jumped up in pain. When I looked down I realized the seat of the stool was another book. It had a label over it. 'The Book of Merry Thoughts. Only Happy People Allowed.'

'Um, where is your collection of books on Dreaming?' I asked, fretful of touching anything else.

'Seventh shelf you see as you stand in front of the radio, fifth drawer, third placement,' she yelled from the kitchenette.

If these instructions were not confusing enough, her shelves were even more mystifying.

I found the seventh shelf by sheer luck really. There were ten small drawers, the size of a pocket book, stashed neatly into the shelf. I pulled the fifth.

I almost got pushed into the other wall.

An immense row of books came out of this drawer. All the books were tied into parcels. The parcels were numbered as 'placements'. There were about fifty placements here. I found the third, a pretty thick one, and took it out carefully.

I set the books I found on the small coffee table in the corner.

'I found them, I think.'

'Good job! I'm coming right now!'

She entered the room, carrying a small tray with teacups, spoons, saucers and a kettle.

She poured me a cup and placed it in my hands.

'Try it. Essence of Russian Literature.'

I almost spat out the tea.

'Essence of Russian Literature?' I asked amazed.

'Yes, yes, try it. It's one of the finest. Both the tea and the literature I mean,' she said, laughing.

I was a bit reluctant to drink it, but she was so excited to have me there that I even asked for a second cup after draining down the first.

'So, how is it?'

'Very good, thank you. It kind of tastes like snow and wood. Reminds me of Earl Grey Tea too.'

'I'm glad you like it,' she said, setting her cup down.

'Um, I don't mean to pry, but how did you manage to collect all these books?' I asked.

'Oh, that was easy. I stole most of the originals and replaced them with their copies instead,' she replied, smiling shyly.

'You, you did what?'

'Well, I wasn't going to let some stupid blokes misuse books they're never going to read, so there!' she said folding her hands.

'You know that's a crime, right?'

'As long as you aren't caught, there's no crime.'

'That's a dangerous way of thinking.'

'It's a practical one, hon. It comes in handy, believe me. You'll use it someday too.'

'I hope not.'

'Well, whatever you do, don't let good books go to waste. I was so afraid when I heard about the basilisk in the school! I mean I thought he might tear a whole through the library! Wouldn't that have been horrible!'

'Wait, you were afraid it would tear a hole through the library? What about the students in this school?'

Irma looked down at her feet and smiled shyly.

'Yes, you're right. The students are much more important, of course. Sorry, I get carried away. But I was really frightened. I even heard a student disappeared.'

Tom.

'Yeah, I know. I don't really want to talk about that, Irma.'

'Why not? Was he close to you?'

'No, not really.'

'He was in your House wasn't he? You must have been a little close.'

'Not exactly. I mean how close can you be to a person you sort of despise but have to coexist with anyway? I mean we had to face some things together and he did help me a couple of times and I helped him back, but he was a sod and I was far too nice to him,' I ranted, sipping from my tea.

'Well! That is quite a story! I didn't know you knew him so well.'

'Oh, I wish I didn't. I wish I had never met him actually. I hope he doesn't return. This school is better without him.'

'But you don't really believe that,' Irma said, tilting her head. 'You're probably just angry he's gone.'

'Why does everyone keep saying that?'

'You need some time to calm down and think rationally,' Irma told me, patting my hand.

'I am perfectly calm. I always try to stay calm, even in dire situations. Some would say it's one of my best traits. Maybe they're wrong, though. I mean I tend to lose my temper around him. But he is really hard to be civilized with.'

'You're probably scared for him,' Irma concluded.

'I'm not. I mean I know he can handle it on his own. He's done so before.'

'Your eyes say different,' she commented, smiling sadly. 'Yes, I tend to read eyes too. They tell a lot more than a book.'

'Then you must be reading me wrong, Miss Pince, because I am not scared for him. I am scared for myself really.'

'Aren't we all? I mean I can't imagine what would happen if Grindelwald took over Hogwarts.'

'Grindelwald is the least of my worries now,' I said, smiling bitterly.

'And? What is your biggest worry then?' Irma asked.

'You wouldn't believe it if I told you,' I said chuckling. 'I don't believe it myself.'

'You're probably just overwhelmed by everything that's going on,' she explained.

'You don't look overwhelmed. Here you are in your safe room, with your books and your library...' I said, looking around. 'It's a haven.'

'Yes, I can fool myself a while longer. I have my small luxuries, it's true. But they're just a good excuse not to look ahead of me, really. I can't picture myself living anywhere else. And if Hogwarts isn't the same, I'm not the same.'

'I know, I used to feel the same too,' I said, nodding my head in sorrow.

'Used?'

'Hogwarts is my favourite place in the world, but it's not where I feel safest,' I confessed.

We sipped from our cups in silence until the kettle emptied itself. After another couple of minutes, she got up and went to untie the parcel of books.

'Let's have a look, shall we?' she said, trying to sound cheerful.

We had been skimming the books for more than an hour or so, when the radio songs suddenly stopped and we were both brought back to reality by the news broadcast.

'Breaking news just in; it appears that muggle London has suffered yet another devastating attack from the Germans; the bombing of two churches and five public institutions by six Bf 109Bs, the death toll is raised at over 350 people. The Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, has made a public announcement which shall be broadcast shortly.'

Irma and I both stared at each other for a long time. Neither of us had the courage to say anything.

Irma dropped the book from her hands and went to the radio to turn up the volume.

'God have mercy on us all,' she finally said, lowering her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. 'And rest the souls of those poor men and women...and children.'

'Where is God in all of this?' I asked. 'He is not here.'

Irma felt pained. She placed a hand over my shoulder.

'It's not a very good time to be lost out there,' she mumbled. 'I hope Riddle is found soon.'

And for the first time, I had no will to argue, because I wanted the same thing. I wanted him to be found.

My eyes fell on the book in my laps. It had turned several pages because I had rested my head against it.

At first I just looked at it blindly. But after I wiped my small tears away, I saw the edgings of four drawings.

'Could you come here for a second?' I called out.

Irma drew next to me and peeked over my shoulder.

'What are these drawings?' I asked, pointing at four pictures on the page.

The first one depicted a man falling asleep in a parallel universe. Then in the second one, the man was confronted by a dark copy of himself in the dream world. It was a dark creature that shared similar features. The man raised his wand to kill it. Lastly, in the fourth one, I saw that the man who had been dreaming had died and the ghastly creature had taken over his world.

'Oh, these. It's an ancient ritual. It no longer exists. It's kind of a silly story too,' she mumbled.

'Tell me, please.'

'Well,' she said, sitting down next to me again, 'back in the old day, wizards were exploring the dream and its possibilities. They wanted to find immortality through dreams. Sort of double their life span if they could. So they created their alter-egos in the dream world through powerful sorcery that would bind them to that creature. But, like in every story, something has to go wrong. And something did. The alter-egos started rebelling against their masters. They had grown in power and had developed their own subterranean conscience and wanted to take over their real personas. The dreamers tried killing the creatures in their dreams, but by doing so, ended up bringing the creatures in the real world. I know, it sounds completely absurd, bringing an imaginary thing into reality. Trust me, it's all just legends. No real account of it has ever been registered in any case. It's just far too stupid to take seriously.'

'Well,' I replied, my throat dry, 'I have read more absurd things before. Magic has a way of surprising you that way.'

'Yes, but magical history is very relative, so take everything you read in these books with a grain of salt,' Irma said.

I nodded my head. I felt like a stranger to myself. My head hurt painfully. I couldn't erase the memory of his still image and my hands on his soft, cold, lifeless face.

I had felt so much relief to see him dead, even if it was just a dream.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. These books just recounted stories, legends, not real facts. It was just a simple 'what if?' And interesting possibility. Nothing more.

Irma turned to the radio again because the Prime Minister had begun his speech. I listened half-heartedly.

'...we've lost wars, we've lost lives, but we won't lose heart! Their death was not in vain! Their death is the reason we should be living, their death should make us stronger! All across England, there's a state of turmoil and despair and I tell you, we must not succumb to it, because if we do, we are doomed to failure. We must rise from the ashes and continue our journey. We are hardly finished and we shall never surrender without a fight. I don't believe in wars, but I believe in something worth fighting for. And if we don't fight for this country, if we don't fight for our freedom, then we do not really deserve it...'

'I will go make some more tea,' Irma said quietly and shuffled towards the kitchenette.

I knelt next to the radio, flipping through the other books. The speech was broadcast three more times.

'... the naval control is considerably concerned about peculiar phenomena in the Irish Sea.'

My head snapped up.

'Locals and troupes alike have confirmed that the sea levels have dropped considerably and large amounts of fish have been found dead on the shore. While the officials suspect a case of an oil leak or toxic poisoning, they are not yet sure what they are dealing with. But they have promised to make this one of their primary concerns.'

I frowned. An odd feeling came over me. It was as if someone had jolted me. An electrical wave rushed through me. I shuddered and drew my knees to my chin.

Peculiar phenomena? I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

When I left Irma Pince's quarters that evening, she was kind enough to lend me the books on Dreams for as long as I needed. She made me promise I would return to visit her soon because she said she got very lonely all by herself there. I promised I would come back soon and said good night.

When I reached the Slytherin Common Room I found it completely deserted. It was half past ten and yet everyone had gone up to their dorms. Not even the usual First Years were up.

I suspected everyone was in a state of confusion due to their most prized and feared Slytherin's disappearance. It was certainly a shock for them to find out their symbolical leader had vanished.

I sat on the black leather sofa in front of the fire, trying to gather my thoughts. The green flames were not helping me focus. They were rather distracting actually.

I sighed and massaged my neck tiredly. I hadn't really slept well ever since the nightmares and I missed sleeping like a normal person.

My fingers brushed over my scar by accident. It felt like a sting. I quickly pulled away. It would do no good now to think about Riddle.

But I almost unconsciously touched my neck again and felt the skin around the scar. I couldn't help touching it. It was painful, but it was also comforting in a way. Because it reminded me that I was real and that everything that was happening was real.

It felt like an old memory, the scar. I couldn't help feeling possessive about it. I wondered if that's how Harry felt. If he felt the scar was part of him. If somehow, that part of him that was foreign could seem familiar at the same time.

I drew out my wand with shaky fingers. I shut my eyes and touched the scar with my wand.

I did not know what I was hoping would happen.

I just wanted to feel something. I wanted to know. I wanted to have a vision, a vision that would enlighten me. That would reveal the answers. That would tell me what to do.

I knew it could be destructive. After all, Harry's visions did nothing but harm him and play with his mind. But it had been one of those visions that had saved a life. He had saved Arthur Weasley because Voldemort had unwillingly let him see into his doings.

If I could just focus on the scar, if I could communicate with Tom, maybe I would know, maybe I would be given a sign.

I did not know what spell to use or what incantation. I just focused on the scar with all my will.

Nothing happened.

I sagged my shoulders in disappointment. I tried again.

Nothing.

I tried using Legilimens, thinking it might trigger a reaction. But no.

Use Dark Magic, a small voice in my head whispered venomously. It was my voice.

I shook my head and focused again.

'There has to be a better way.'

Don't deny the way it makes you feel. Don't deny it.

'There is a better way,' I insisted.

Didn't you feel undefeatable when you crushed the stone snakes?

'No. I felt horrible. I felt lowly and cruel...'

You felt you could achieve anything. And you can. You just have to let yourself do that.

'I won't.'

Do you really think it's called Dark Magic because it's all evil and bad? It's called Dark because it is unknown, it is a mystery. It is not something that just anyone can master.

'I can't master it.'

You, of all people, should be able to do it. Because you have always had a secret desire in you. You have always wanted to prove yourself. And Dark Magic comes to those who are worthy.

'Those who are worthy?'

Forget about Tom Riddle. Forget about Salazar Slytherin. You are the power to be feared. You have the upperhand.

'Forget about Tom Riddle? About Salazar?' I asked myself.

They are mere pawns, but you are the queen in this game. They have no real control over you. But you could control them. If you just allowed yourself to feel the magic.

'Dark Magic.'

Pure and Holy Dark Magic.

'Dark Magic can be neither pure nor holy.'

Magic in itself is not, but when the Dark and the Unknown element, Nymus, joins it, then it becomes as pure as a newborn child. And holy in its propensity.

'Nymus?'

Remember that you've been told only lies. They've lied to you, to everyone you know, they've all made you fear. You fear the unknown and you let them tell you it is evil.

'What is a Nymus? Is it a soul?'

It is the centre of light.

'Where is the centre of light?'

Dark Magic holds the centre of light. You must reach it. You must see it with your own eyes.

'Where?'

The wand touched the scar and the touch made a soft noise, like the click of a gun.

My sight split in half and a red river of blood coursed in front of my eyes. It smelt metallic and deathly.

A bright red light tore me from my thoughts and caught me in a vision.

I squinted my eyes in pain.

A figure was running up a hill. He was panting very hard. I could see he was full of scars and bruises. He looked exhausted.

He stopped by a large stone on his path and sat on it, breathing hard.

It was Tom.

He held his wand in his hands and shot a spell at the grass in front of him. It was Incendio. The spell was too weak however, because he barely managed to char the tips of the grass. He made another attempt but it was the same.

He shut his eyes and put his hands over his face.

I looked towards the mansion on the hill. It was sketched clearly on the night sky, a tall imposing building, Victorian in style, reigning over the surrounding lands.

I remembered it vaguely. It was the Riddle mansion.

'Tom,' I spoke softly, walking towards him. 'Tom, open your eyes.'

But he was still adamantly lost in his world, his hands over his face in a desperate attempt to block everything out. He was shivering as well. It was freezing outside.

The night sky fell heavy on his shoulders. He was still bleeding. He had Apparated for a long while, from what I could assume. Multiple Apparitions would do that to a person.

His hands were so scarred that I had to look away.

'Tom, why did you come here?' I asked him again.

He couldn't see me or hear me. I hung my head in resignation.

I approached him slowly and placed my hand over his bruised one. It was red and frozen. I applied pressure.

Something in him made him flinch all of a sudden. He rose from his seat and looked around worriedly.

'Who is there?' he asked hoarsely. His voice was cracked, but still maintained that false authority to it.

'It's me, it's Jane!'

'Who is there?'

'You have to come back!' I yelled. 'There's no point in going about it on your own.'

'Am I alone?' he asked again.

'No, I'm here, Tom. I'm here, but I can't stay for too long.'

'I sense Dark Magic,' he said more to himself. 'He must be close then.'

'I know you can hear me, just struggle to listen! You have to come back!'

'I am alone for now,' he repeated affirmatively.

'You idiot! You're going to die on this lunatic trip of yours! And while that would be a good thing for us all and would certainly make it impossible for you to harm anyone or inflict any further pain, it wouldn't mean the end of Salazar Slytherin!'

'I must be. No one has followed me,' he continued. 'Which means there is nothing to prevent me from meeting him.'

'Don't you see? You might have a chance of fighting this evil! You might have one chance, one chance in a million to redeem your despicable and meaningless existence!' I screamed at the top of my lungs. 'You have a chance to give your life meaning!'

'I shouldn't wait any longer.'

'Tom!' I yelled, trying to grab his arm. I pulled as hard as I could.

'Tom, you need to come back!'

He stepped back in shock and looked about him wildly. He took out his wand again.

He started edging away from the stone in suspicion.

'What do you want from me?' he asked roughly.

'I want you to come back,' I pleaded again.

'Speak then! Let your presence be known!' he yelled.

'Don't go after him! Don't let him take you!' I yelled, as I felt the torrent sucking me in again.

'Do you want to kill me?' he suddenly asked, his voice low and soft.

I saw his features melting in a blur of dark colours. I hung onto his arm.

'You can't die now, because I need you!' I yelled as loud as I could before the image turned to black.

But I could have sworn that right before I shut my eyes, I heard him call back.

When I could breathe again which wasn't until after a while, I found myself sitting on the same black-leathered sofa, facing the fireplace.

'Jane?'

'Jane?' Tom Riddle called out in bewilderment.

'Jane,' he said, his eyes turning blue.

He looked back towards the path he had come from.

'Jane, I won't die,' he spoke.

He suddenly felt a splitting pain at his head. It was coming again. The same bout of insanity. It always took him over the edge.

He knelt down and took his head in his hands. He yelled desperately into the night.

He heard him coming. Fast and furious like a storm. But soft and smooth like a quiet river. The ever present evil.

The basilisk roared from afar. From very distant lands.

A light appeared at one of the mansion's windows.

As his head hit the ground, he whispered something incoherently.

'But you have to die for me...'

End of Part I