Chapter 25 – The Revolutionary Spark

June 7, 1941

The Evans house

Summer holidays started a week ago and Tom Evans was already bored.

Living in a house placed under a Fidelius Charm limited many of the entertainment options of a 14 year old wizard. His school friends were unable to visit due to the heightened security after the Dark Army's attempted invasion. Dad did not want too many people knowing the secret of where the Evan's house stood. Tom grumbled about being held prisoner in his own house when he had not done anything wrong. Dad seemed sympathetic but he did not relent.

Tom completed all of his summer homework in the first four days of his "summer imprisonment". Helping with both sets of twins helped fill the next couple of days, but to a fourteen year old boy, that was not a good way to spend your summer holidays. At least if Dad were home he could practice his dueling and animagus skills, but Dad was out helping the Ministry fight Grindelwald.

The seventh morning of Tom's summer incarceration was spent working on a couple Fifth year potions in his mum's potions lab. Mum kept her lab better stocked then Hogwarts. In Tom's opinion, Mum was much better at potions and teaching then Slughorn ever would be. Sluggy spent too much of his class catering to students he could use as connections to the rich, famous or powerful. Unlike the Hogwarts potions lab, Mum's lab was bright and clean.

While studying for her Healers certificate, Mum visited a couple Muggle hospitals for training on understanding certain non-magical aliments that resisted magical treatments. Sarah Evans fell in love with the clean, sanitary nature of the Muggle labs. With her husband's help, Sarah purchased a great deal of Muggle chemistry equipment and installed it into her potions lab. Now all of her equipment stood in glass cabinets and the potions ingredients resided in neatly labeled jars next to many Muggle chemicals.

One thing Sarah Evans did not appreciate in the Muggle labs was the cold, impersonal feeling that came from the rooms. Mum's lab was painted blue with paintings hanging on the wall at regular intervals. Hanging on one wall was a magical window James bought for her birthday. The window could be made to show the view out side every window in the Evan's house. .Mum even had music playing softly in the background.

Tom set aside the Dreamless Sleep potion he had been working on for it to simmer. It would keep for a bit whilst the potion settled. Opening another book, Tom started to read about the Polyjuice Potion. Tom was deep into the instructions and making notes when his mum called down for lunch.

Absently checking the simmering potion, Tom picked up the book and made his way up the stairs. He was still reading as he walked up the stairs and into the hall. The attack occurred as soon as he cleared the stairs.

"Tommy!!"

Twin voices screamed his name as the Twin Terrors assaulted his legs. Pretending not to notice, Tom continued to walk with a four-year-old wrapped around each leg. The twins giggled with each step.

Katie dropped off first. Michael let go to join his sister on the floor. They looked up at their brother and giggled.

Tom looked down from his book. "What has you two so excited?"

Michael grinned, "Grand mum came to visit."

Standing with his hand on the kitchen door, Tom felt a sense of foreboding. "Grand mum?" he asked.

Katie nodded happily, "Mummie's mummie!"

The language passing through Tom's mind at this point would have caused a sever reprimand from his mother. With a sigh of reservation, Tom continued into the kitchen. The rug rats followed.

"Mummie, we found Tommie!" Katie trumpeted their arrival.

Tom saw his mum sitting at the table with an older witch sitting across from her. She looked a great deal like Mum, but with great frown lines running down her mouth to match the scowl on her face. Tom never met his mother's mum before. She stayed away from his parents wedding to protest the impurity of James's blood.

Tia and Ron sat in their baby chairs eating their lunch. The younger twins celebrated their first birthday only two days previous. Ron was happily eating everything on his tray whilst Tia ignored the food to watch everyone in the room.

"Tom," Sarah Evans said with a welcoming smile, "I would like you to meet my mother, Margret Underhill. Mother, this is my eldest son, Tom."

Tom managed a polite nod and said, "Hello, ma'am."

The scowl deepened. "So, you are the charity case my daughter took on. You look like a bad one. Bet he gives you a lot of trouble." The last was said in an aside to her daughter.

Sarah clucked her tongue, "Mother, stop it. Tom is an excellent son. He is very well-behaved and the top student in his year at Hogwarts."

"What House are you in boy?"

Tom bit his tongue and simply replied, "Slytherin, madam"

"Slytherin! I knew that school had gone down hill. If even Slytherin is accepting half-bloods then things are even worse then I thought!"

"Mother, stop it." Sarah said in a low but firm tone. "I invited you here to see your grandchildren, not to hear your political opinions." Sarah turned to her children, "Please sit down so Cillie can serve us lunch."

Tom gave in to the pleading look in his mum's eyes to not create an incident. He quietly sat at the table as far as possible from Margret Underhill. Madam Underhill proceeded to ignore Tom and make a great fuss over both sets of twins. Cillie served her usual excellent lunch that Tom ate in silence.

It was obvious to Tom this was not Margret Underhill's first visit to the Evan's house. Katie and Michael were obviously well acquainted with her while Ron and Tia seemed comfortable around her. Tom wondered why his father allowed her to know where they lived but Tom couldn't have Nott or one of his other friends visit.

Margret Underhill proved incapable of reigning in her opinions. Within fifteen minutes of lunch starting, Madam Underhill resumed on her blood purity comments. Little things at first but each comment was louder and harsher then the one before it.

Tom snorted to himself. 'Voldemort would have an instant follower in this one.'

Madam Underhill heard his snort and stopped herself in mid-rant. She turned and glared at the young wizard. "Did you have something to say, boy?"

"Did you know that for every generation past the fourth a family goes without the infusion of some Muggle blood they increase the chance of a child being a squib by eleven percent?"

Madam Underhill's face turned red in anger. "Rubbish! The purer the blood the stronger the family! Whoever heard of such garbage?!"

Tom shrugged nonchalantly. "We did a research project for History of Magic. Within the first four generations about four percent of the children are Squibs. It seems to level off at ten percent Squibs in a family without Muggle blood for thirteen or more generations. Magical power levels start to drop after about six generations too."

"I have never heard such drivel in my life! That is impossible. Someone made that up and you believed it you naive child!" Tom reflected that beet red was not a good color for Madam Underhill.

Tom shrugged, "Minister Nott was kind enough to give us the information. He seemed to think the information was correct."

The old witch sneered, "Why would the Minister of Magic give someone like you that kind of information? He probably just made it up to have a go at you."

Tom gave her an amused look. "Well, I suspect he gave us good information. I don't think he would give his son and his friends bad information." Tom noticed his mother's eyes reflecting suppressed humor. She gave him a subtle wink.

Madam Underhill looked nonplussed. "You are friends with Minister Nott's son?"

"He's my best mate." Tom seemed to think about something. "Mr. Potter thought our analysis was well done."

Mentioning the Potters gave the witch something else to complain about. "The Potters! Used to be a great family the Potters did. Now look how they have fallen! One of the wizarding world's greatest families reduced to Muggle lovers!"

Michael had not been able to follow much of the conversation, but he did understand the last part. "Grand mum, don't say mean things 'bout Grand mum and Grandpa Potter!"

The witch turned to her oldest grandson and her voice turned sticky sweet, "I am sorry bumpkin, did you say Grand mum and Grandpa Potter?""

Michael nodded solemnly," Umhmm."

"They are not your grandparents dear. I am your only grand mum still living."

Sarah disagreed, "Mother, I know you are aware the Potters adopted the Evans family into their clan. So Thomas and Elizabeth are very much both my children's grandparents and godparents. Please don't say something like that again."

Margret Underhill scowled at her only child. "The Potters were just looking for a way to pass on the family name. The only other Potter married that Black girl and took off for America."

Tom realized he never wanted to get his mum that angry at him. He could feel the magic rolling off his mother. "Glad I don't have any sensitive potions brewing," he mused quietly.

Katie and Michael looked like they were ready to cry. They loved the Potters. Why was grand mum saying mean things? Tia continued to watch in her quiet way. Ron managed to stop eating feeling the odd tension in his body.

In quiet, determined tones, Sarah said, "The Potters reasons for their actions are between them and my husband. The opinions of your gossip circle do not matter. You have made your opinions very well known my entire life. Now, you are upsetting my children. Please stop making those comments and simply enjoy your time with your grandchildren."

Tom felt like cheering his mother. Instead he turned his head and cocked it curiously to watch Madam Underhill's reaction.

Sarah's mother drew herself upright in her chair. "I will not be spoken to in such a disgraceful manner. That Mudblood husband of yours has given you many wrong ideas." Her voice changed to a resigned sigh. "I suppose I was to lenient on you when you first told me you wanted to get married to such a poor wizard. I should have stood firm then. Very well, Sarah, you will cease this disobedience and impoliteness to me immediately or I shall have you removed from the family."

Tom would have risen to his mother's defense, but he felt a restraining hand on his arm.

Sarah turned from Tom and looked at her mother with a sad expression. "Mother, you may do whatever you feel you must. You always have. James is my husband and the father of my children. Tom is as much my son as Michael or Ron. As for being a 'poor' wizard, James is not that in any form of the word. It is a shame that your own bigotry prevents you from getting to know what a wonderful man he is. Now mother, I think it is best for you to leave now. My children are upset. Please leave."

Madam Underhill looked like a dragon just appeared in her garden. Stunned disbelief filled her face. Slowly she rose from her chair. "Very well. I can see I am not wanted. Sarah Evans, as the acting head of the Underhill family, I must inform you that you are no longer a member of the family. Your branch of the family shall forever more be separated. No benefits, financial or magical will ever be given to you from the Underhill family."

Sarah Evans rose with a look of icy calm. "Madam Underhill, you have said your piece. Please leave my house and never return. I revoke your right of knowledge of this house in my husband's name."

Tom could only watched in stunned disbelief as Madam Underhill turned and walked out of the kitchen. Sarah followed her to the door. Tom followed at a slight distance as the two women walked through the house.

Madam Underhill opened the door and walked out without pausing. As she started walking down the path to leave, Sarah called after her.

"Oh, Madam Underhill!"

Madam Underhill stopped without turning around.

"Since you were only the acting head of the family until my first natural born son came of age, my denouncement means you now have no possible direct heirs. I believe that means my former cousin, Charlie MacTavish now becomes the Head of the Family. Have a nice day!" With that parting shot, Sarah closed the door.

Sarah turned back and looked at Tom. He could see a wet sheen in her eyes. Katie and Michael clung to Tom's legs as the three eldest Evans children stared at their mother.

Sarah calmly looked at the three children. "I am sorry you children had to witness that. I had hoped my mother would set aside her stupid prejudices for the sake of family. Tom, could you please watch your siblings. I have to go to my room for a bit."

Tom could only nod slowly. "Er, sure, mum."

The three children watched as their mother walked away to her room. Tom felt foolish. He should do something, but what? What could he do?

Feeling lost, Tom placed his arms around his stunned younger siblings. "Come on. I know where Dad stashed the ice cream. Then we can go play in the garden."

Tom hoped Dad got home soon.

1 July 1941

The Evans House

A light knocking on his door woke Tom up.

"Tom, you awake yet?" James asked through the door.

Tom rolled over in his bed to glare at the clock. It was after eight in the morning but Tom just did not want to get out of bed.

In a groan, Tom answered, "I was asleep."

The door cracked open allowing James to stick his head in the door. Seeing Tom still wrapped in his blankets, he stepped the rest of the way into the room. Snuffles beat his tail on the floor in welcome without actually moving any other part of his body. Nagini lay silently across the top of Tom's bed.

"Tom, I need you to get up. We have something important to take care of."

Tom was tempted to complain but he caught something in his father's manner that stopped him. A focused determination filled his father's face. "Okay, I'll be out in five minutes."

Ten minutes later, Tom and James flew out of the Evans garden under Disillusionment Charms. James did not respond to Tom's questions while in the house. Those questions only grew as Tom recognized their probable destination from their course, Hogwarts.

Tom's suspicions were confirmed when the pair continued through the wards and directly towards the main Hogwart's entrance. Dismounting at the door, James shrank the brooms and placed them in a pocket. Without a word he led Tom into the school.

The halls seemed strangely quiet to Tom as they walked through the school. The lack of students was bad enough, but the school felt completely empty.

"Dad, where is everyone? Shouldn't the Headmaster or Professor Dumbledore felt us cross the wards and met us?"

James did not turn as he continued to walk purposely through the silent halls. "Most of the staff is on holiday. Professors Dippet and Dumbledore are in a secure conference room at the Ministry. It blocks all magic in or out."

Tom was stunned. "We're the only ones in the entire school?"

Approaching a door on the second floor, James stepped up to it and turned to his son. "I had to manipulate a few schedules to achieve this opening." James opened the door and led Tom into the Girls loo.

"Dad, are we doing what I think?"

James shot his son a grin. "I've never been one for following the rules. Too much Gryffindor Golden Boy in me. The Ministry wanted to have you open the Chamber of Secrets and let them in." James walked open to one of the sinks. He pointed and said, "Tell it to open."

Tom walked over and said, Open! Tom watched in amazement as the sink fell away revealing a large opening on the floor.

James handed Tom his broom and asked, "Remember the practice we had last week using our brooms to slowly descend? Now you find out why." Without another word, James dropped into the hole, mounting the broom as he fell.

Tom waited ten seconds and then followed his father.

The hole seemed to be some sort of tube. Water from the sinks or another source must have leaked down over the centuries. The sides of the tube were coated in a thick green slime. At the controlled descent rate, Tom noticed regular, stair-shaped cracks where patches of the slime did not seem so thick.

'I guess Grandpa Salazar did make an easier way to go up and down,' Tom thought.

An opening in the tube appeared just above a bend in the pipe. His father hovered on his broom looking towards the opening.

"What is it, Dad?"

James grimaced and looked at his son. "Your great-whatever-grandfather has an atrocious sense of humor. When I came down here in my Second year, we dropped down the tube. We ended up in a rough cave area filled with old basilisk skins. Did you notice the evidence of the stairs? I wonder if the area below was a feeding area."

Tom laughed quietly. "You really were a Gryffindor. Dropping into a hole with no idea what was at the bottom? You were crazy, Dad."

James gave Tom a sly smile. "I've always been good about leaping before I look. That's how I ended up living fifty years before I was born and stuck with this whiny little kid."

The wicked humor in James's eye made Tom laugh but he had to acknowledge the truth of his father's observation. "So which way do we go?"

"Let's try the main door here. Try telling it to open again."

Tom hissed, Open!

The door swung obediently open. A stale, musty puff of air came from the area beyond. James and Tom landed just inside the door. They dismounted and leaned their brooms against the wall.

"Wands out you reckon?" Tom asked. Tom watched his father go white at the question. "Dad, what's wrong?"

James shook his head. "Never mind. Yes, take out your wand." He landed inside the opening and took several steps inside. A barely heard Lumos lit James's wand as he moved in.

Tom followed him into the opening. Once past the door it was a rather wide corridor done in much the same fashion of the dungeon areas of the castle above. The stone walls were dressed neatly and no dampness or mold covered the walls. The tattered remains of tapestries hung down. Even without touching them, Tom could see they were dry and brittle with age.

Tom noticed torches sitting in sconces hanging on the wall. Light The torches sprang to life revealing a much longer hall then Tom expected. It continued another fifty yards further.

When he noticed his father looking at him, Tom shrugged, "At least Salazar kept the commands simple. Why didn't you ask his painting about getting into the Chamber and what was in it.?"

James frowned slightly but Tom could see his lips attempt to smile. "He told me that would ruin the fun. I think he was looking forward to us sliding down the opening. He also hinted that their maybe some traps. So, if you see a gold statue sitting on a pedestal, don't pick it up."

Tom just looked at his father with a confused expression. What had that meant?

At the end of the hall stood another thick oak door. The handle seemed to be a simple latch made out of brass.

"I've seen doors like this in some parts of the castle," Tom said. "They all disappeared when then expanded the school for all the new students."

James nodded absently, "This is probably an original door from when the school was built." James reached out to tentatively try the door. The latch resisted but then gave in a sudden jolt. With a loud groan, the door swung open.

Stepping into the room beyond, Tom could only stop and stare in wonder.

The room was about three times the size of the Headmaster's office. The ceiling stretched up about fourteen feet above their heads. A large stone fireplace filled the wall directly across from their door. Two more doors stood on wall immediately on either side of the fireplace. Massive bookcases filled the two walls running between Tom and James and the fireplace. The shelves were filled with a large number of books and scrolls. In the center of the room stood a large desk. It was of massive proportions. An almost throne-like chair stood next to the desk.

"Tom, look up," James whispered.

Tom looked up and felt his jaw drop. The ceiling had the same charm at the one in the Great Hall. The bright Scottish summer sky filled the ceiling. The morning was almost cloudless. Tom assumed the ceiling was simply blue at his first glance.

"It's exactly like the one in the Great Hall," Tom murmured.

The ceiling suddenly changed. Now instead of looking 'up' from atop the Great Hall, it now looked down to show the Hall below.

James started to laugh. "That sly old bastard. He could watch everything happening in the Great Hall from the comfort of his own little hidey-hole. I wonder what else it shows."

Tom called out, "Slytherin common room" The ceiling changed to show the common room. "That looks like the common room if you stood on the fireplace."

"Isn't the painting over the fireplace a static portrait of Salazar? Try the Gryffindor common room."

Tom tried but got no response. Over the next fifteen minutes the two wizards amused themselves by calling out a variety of locations around Hogwarts. They soon learned the Slytherin and general school areas were visible including the classrooms. The other Houses and individual dorm rooms were not visible except Tom's dorm room. The second floor girls' bathroom was also visible but only in the area near the entrance to the Chamber.

While watching the ceiling, Tom wandered over to the desk chair and dropped into the seat. Tom felt a magical force probing in his mind. "Dad…" he started to say.

Before he could say anything else, a ghostly image appeared in from on him. James, turning to hear what Tom wanted to say, spotted the image at the same time Tom did.

The image did not look too much like an older version of the wizard they met in the Potter's painting. This Salazar Slytherin had been twisted by his pursuit of the Dark Arts. He had the same almost simian appearance as the statue James remembered from his Second year. Then the image started to hiss.

Greetings, my heir. I leave this message in the eve of my final departure from this school. My ceiling has revealed to me that on the morrow my old friend Godric will confront me with those two crones in support. I am more powerful then any of them but not all of them collectively.

I will leave this school to continue my work. Prophecy given years ago told me if I were ever to leave the school under protest, I would never cross its boundaries again. So I leave it to you, my Heir, to finish my work in this school. The influence of the Muggleborns must be removed from the wizarding world! They will corrupt us with their weak minded ways!

I leave you two gifts, my Heir. The first is this place. It contains the greatest collection of magical knowledge ever gathered in one place. Through one of these doors you will find a potions lab and workshop. Through the other you will find my second gift.

I recently acquired an infant basilisk, the true king of the snake realm. Before I leave tonight, I will place the basilisk under a stasis spell. The basilisk will sleep until you come for it. Magic will feed it and greatly slow its aging. Once released from the spell, it cannot be placed under it again. A summoning spell will call animals of the forest to a grand chamber underneath these rooms. There under my statue the basilisk shall feed and wait until you call on him.

You will find my notes on the basilisk contained in scrolls here in my study. My journals are also here. Only you will be able to read them but guard them well. They contain vast amounts of secret knowledge known only to me.

Use my gifts well, my Heir.

With its final admonishment, the image faded away.

Tom continued to stare at the place the image had stood for several seconds after it was gone. Would the Slytherin family curse cause him to become twisted like that? What had the other Tom Riddle felt when he watched that image? Did the additional time the other Tom spent in the orphanage and without a family make him more susceptible to the curse or did that evil lurk within his soul too?

A hand on his shoulder startled Tom out of his thoughts. "Nothing is written in stone, Tom. Just being here together proves that. The future is yours to mold. Consider this and what I told you about the Voldemort of my past to be a warning."

Tom nodded. He knew his father was right. Intellectually he knew that. Emotionally, he wasn't so sure. If the curse twisted him, he would be responsible for hundreds, if not thousands, of deaths. Tom had heard Dad talking to Mum about how many more students attended Hogwarts, even before the war, then when he attended. All those deaths weighed heavily on Tom at the moment.

Tom felt himself turned to face his father. "Tom, look me in the eye." Tom struggled to look up. "You have a gift, if you chose to look at it right. You know what your future could have held, the decisions you would have made. You are not the same person as Tom Marvolo Riddle! You are Tom Evans."

Tom blinked at the firm conviction in his father's voice. If his father had any doubts, Tom could not detect it.

Taking a deep breath, Tom said, "Thanks, Dad. It just kind of hit me."

James grinned, "I think I can relate a bit. Come on, let's keep looking around."

Grateful for the diversion, Tom joined in looking around Slytherin's study. Many of the old texts were in surprisingly good shape for sitting for a thousand years.

"I think Slytherin placed a type of stasis charm on this entire room," James commented. "Not only are the books and furniture still in good shape, but there is no dust layer on anything."

Five minutes later, Tom called out, "I found Salazar's journals. He wrote them in Parselmouth. This one was written at eleven years old. From the opening it sounds like he started writing it when he was apprenticed to learn magic."

James wandered over in curiosity. "That would be an interesting read. He probably gives a first hand account of the founding of Hogwarts. James picked up another volume and started to page carefully through it.

Tom looked up questioningly when James snorted. Seeing Tom's look James said, "I just found a passage where Salazar is complaining about his roommate, Godric Gryffindork. I guess the Slytherins have been using that particular appellation for a very long time."

"Dad, can we take some of these for me to read over the summer?"

"We can take a couple. We can always come back for more if we need to. Let's check out the rest of the place before we get too involved with the books."

Tom set the first five volumes of the journal on the desk and followed James over to one of the two closed doors. Beyond the door stood Slytherin's personal potions lab and what he called his work room.

The potions lab contained a great deal of old fashioned potions equipment. While many of the cauldrons could still be used, much of the other equipment would be better as museum pieces. Tom looked at the old knives and other implements lay in neat racks or holders. In some cases he recognized the use of the piece but some of them left him wondering.

"The potions ingredients didn't hold up too well."

Tom walked over to join his Dad. James pointed a couple of the jars out. "The stasis spell kept some things preserved, but any thing you really need fresh I wouldn't trust."

"I doubt he expected the stasis to have to last this long," Tom commented.

They moved into the workroom and received a surprise.

"Did you know Salazar made wands?" Tom asked.

James shook his head, the shock evident on his face.

The workroom contained all of the items required for woodworking from a thousand years in the past. Several wands in various states of completion sat on cushioned shelves. Tom noticed two staves in half finished states leaning in the corner.

A rather large pedal-driven saw took up much of the floor space. Tom was surprised to notice all of the tools were of Muggle origin; none of them were magical in any degree. When he asked about it, James shrugged.

"I was never too interesting in making wands. I think I remember something about magical balances and auras involved in the making being important. Maybe using magical tools throws off the auras?"

Tom walked slowly around the room. He noticed a shelf with a dozen labeled jars. Among them he saw 'Unicorn Hair', 'Veela Hair', 'Dragon Heartstring', and 'Basilisk Fang'. On another shelf several pieces of wood sat with the bark still attached. They looked like branches or the trunks of young trees that had been selected for the wand making process. A small desk sat in the corner of the room. A small bookrack with several books sat atop the desk. Tom glanced at them. He was unsurprised to see they all dealt with advanced wand making theory or woodworking.

"I wonder if Ollivander would now anything about this," James mused during his own explorations. "His family has been involved in wand making for so long they may have family records of dealings with Salazar."

Tom scoffed, "You're assuming that Ollivander himself isn't the same one from the Founders' Time. The man is scary."

"You might have a point there," James laughed.

After several more minutes looking through the shop, the two wizards wandered back out to the study and to the remaining door.

James conjured a mirror and slowly opened the door. He cautiously slid the mirror into the room.

"Do you think Salazar would set the basilisk up to petrify his heir?" Tom asked.

"I don't want to take the chance. You haven't seen the size of this thing."

Not seeing the basilisk on the other side, James opened the door the rest of the way. The room seemed to be a small medieval kitchen. A small cooking fireplace stood against the wall with a stone ice box in the opposite corner. Another door stood open leading out of the room. Through the door they could see a much larger room with rough dressed stone. James walked to the open door for a better look.

Before his dad got very far, Tom noticed something. He called out, "I found the basilisk, Dad."

Lying in a large box slept the basilisk. Tom judged the serpent to be about nine feet long. It was surprisingly thick for a snake of its length. A blue shimmer seemed to surround the basilisk. Tom assumed it was the stasis spell the Salazar-image mentioned.

"I think you exaggerated your stories, Dad," Tom said in a cheeky voice.

"Brat. They must grow a lot in fifty years. It does have the same markings as the one I fought." James leaned over to examine the stasis spell on the basilisk.

"Should we wake it?" Tom asked in a hopeful voice.

"Nagini and Snuffles aren't enough for you?" James asked in a teasing voice. "Let's leave the basilisk to sleep, at least for now. I want to read Salazar's notes before we wake it."

Tom gave an aggravated sigh. "But it could tell us so much!"

"Tom," James said in a firm voice, "we are not going to wake the basilisk until we have more information." James stood and backed away from the sleeping snake. "Come here, I want to show you something."

James led the way out of the kitchen and into the large cave beyond. The cave was huge. Tom guessed it was eighty feet long and fifty feet wide with thirty foot ceilings. Sealed round tunnels led out of the room. One of the tunnels sloped down for a bit before ending at an odd stone closure. James led Tom over to the downward sloping tunnel.

"When I fought the basilisk, I had to play hide-n-seek with it after Fawkes blinded it. It chased me through a bunch a pipe-like tunnels. We never made it to this room, but I am sure that is where the sealed tunnels lead."

"Then what is this?" Tom asked as he gestured at the odd opening they were approaching.

"This is opening to the chamber where I killed that basilisk's future self," James answered. James hissed quietly at the opening. Tom, in his surprise did not catch what he said, but he watched in fascination as the opening was revealed.

James stepped to the ledge and looked down. "This is where the basilisk emerged from. We're standing in the mouth of Salazar's statue. The chamber is a ritual room used for Dark Magics."

Tom walked over and looked down. The large chamber below had columns carved with snakes. A motif covered the ceiling showing a giant basilisk wrapped around the Hogwarts castle. The floor had sand and dirt covering it in places. Tom noticed a moat stood at the base of the statue.

"I found Ginny passed out on the floor right there. Voldemort's sixteen-year-old self was standing over there as he waited for the magical transference to complete. If I had been five or ten minutes later, she would have died." James's voice trailed off and he stood looking out over the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom could only try to image as he listened to his father's flat, emotionless voice. Usually his father's voice reflected the emotion of the story he told. Now it was flat. Tom suspected his father was mentally reliving the event. He noticed an odd stress in his father's eyes. Tom was once again reminded how much this man suffered for and because of him.

Tom put his hand on James's arm. "I'm sorry, Dad. Why don't we head home now? We can read the journals and come explore some more later."

James nodded his agreement and backed away from the ledge. The opening sealed automatically as he backed away.

The two wizards retraced their steps back to the study. They paused long enough to pick up the journals they had selected. James added a notebook simply titled 'Chamber of Secrets' while Tom found one on basilisks. James shrunk the books down and placed them in his pocket.

They picked up their brooms and mounted. With a hissed command, the torches were extinguished and the door closed behind them. Then the two wizards flew back out of the tunnel and made their way back to Hogsmeade.

12 August 1941

The Evans House

The two boys ran into the room, shutting the door behind them. The larger boy dropped into a chair while the other jumped onto the bed.

"I am glad your parents let you out of the house finally," Tom said from the bed.

Nott rolled his eyes, "Dad is convinced the Dark Lord is going to make another effort to grab me. He has Aurors guarding our house all the time. I couldn't even go out to play Quidditch!"

"My dad has our house under a Fidelius Charm. I can go out as long as I stay on the property. So at least I could fly at bit."

Nott lounged back in his chair. "So what was so important you needed to push the parents to let me come over?"

Tom stood up and walked over to a small chest next to his desk. "Look at this."

Nott stood up to look into the box. "What are they? I can't read the writing on the covers?"

"They're Salazar Slytherin's journals. My father and I recovered them last month."

Nott's jaw dropped as he gazed at them in awe. "Slytherin's journals! Can I read them?"

"They are written in Parseltongue. I translated parts of a few of them." Tom picked up a scroll from his desk. "Here is one of them."

Nott took the scroll and started to read it in stunned amazement.

"Nott, you know how we are taught Slytherin only wanted ambitious Purebloods for students?"

Nott tore his eyes from the scroll. "Yah, why?"

"According to the Journals, the Pureblood part wasn't added until after he was Cursed. He wanted students of subtlety and cunning. Wizards and witches that wanted to be the best. Our House has been lied to and twisted to match the vision of a wizard twisted by magical accident."

Nott looked even more stunned then before. He also knew his best mate. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Let's face it, Slytherins run the Ministry. The others are there as well but our House tends to get the politicians. It is our nature. But that nature has been corrupted by trying to live up to the ideals of a man with spell damage! I want to reset our House to how Salazar Slytherin originally intended."

"You're talking about setting off a revolution within our House!" Nott whispered in shock.

Tom grinned, "You know the only thing a Slytherin loves more than a subtle plot is a revolution to overthrow those in power."

"Do you know how many people this is going to stir up? Almost all of the old Pureblood families in positions of power are Slytherin. They aren't going to like hearing the traditions they have followed for the last thousand years is wrong!"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Not even from the only living descendent of their House founder?"

Nott paused to consider that point. "You are going to come out?"

Now it was Tom's turn to pause. "Not publicly at first. Not until after the war. But in our House at school, yes. If we can get a solid base in the current students before the alumni hear about it we have a much better chance of success."

"You've put some thought into this," Nott observed. "How did you want to start?"

"I think the girls in our year is an easy first start. Then I want to start with the younger half of the House. They are not as tied to the old ways. Then we can start on the older years."

"Sounds like a plan." Nott grinned, "So, where do I sign up? What do we call ourselves?"

Tom felt gratified by his mate's instant acceptance. "I was thinking of calling ourselves 'The True Slytherins'."

Nott considered the name and smiled, "This is going to be fun."

31 August 1941

Grimmauld Place

"Have you packed your things for Hogwarts?"

The young boy address rose from his seat and stood respectfully in front of the man who addressed him. "Almost, father. I still have a few things to pack."

"Go do so now. Stay in your room until I have one of the elves summon you to dinner."

The small boy nodded his head respectfully. "Yes, father."

Within five minutes of the boy leaving, three cloaked figures apparated into the room. The owner of the house did not seem surprised to see them.

"Good afternoon, Christina."

One of the three cloaked figures removed her hood to reveal the Grindelwald's favorite Dark Witch. "Black. Have you learned anything yet?"

The man behind the desk dropped a file on the desk. "The Ministry records Tom Marvolo Riddle born 31 July 1930. Contrary to what Morfin claimed, the mother lived until he was four. She died when she stepped in front of a Muggle lorry. Then he went into the Phoenix orphanage. I haven't been able to get into their records yet."

The Dark Witch listened while paging through the documents in the file. "This means he would be starting school this year. Why did Morfin have his age so wrong? Didn't Morfin say he came with his adopted father?"

Acturus Black shrugged, "If he was adopted, the Ministry doesn't have a record of it. As for his age… I expect his time in Azkaban addled what wits Morfin may have had."

Christina grunted noncommittally at Acturus's suggestion.

"Have you established firm cover identities?" Black asked.

Christina gave him a sardonic smile, "We are out of your little cottage. You may use it again for your little rendezvous. We have spread into three different Muggle towns perfect for our needs. Large enough everyone doesn't know each other, but small enough that there is no significant magical community."

Black glared at the witch, "My father has been in St. Mungos for the last month. He plans to travel to the cottage for his recuperation."

"Of course. Nothing to do with those very interesting pictures Hans found under his bed. Really Black, hiding them under the bed? Aren't you a bit old to believe that hiding place would work?"

Black's face turned a bright red as he suppressed his anger. "Get out of my house. I will send for you when I have more information. I will have my son watch the Hogwarts First years for Tom Riddle. You will have to do the same at the Phoenix school. None of the better families have children attending that travesty."

Christina ignored the implied insult of 'sending for her'. This fool's time would come soon enough. Instead she smiled politely, "But of course Mr. Black, we would never want to out stay our welcome. Send word when you have found something…useful."

Without another word, the Dark Witch and her followers were gone.

Acturus Black stood up in his rage and stormed over to his study door. Throwing it open violently he screamed, "ORION, GET DOWN HERE!"

A thud was heard from the upstairs followed by a series of softer bounding coming from the stairs. The same young boy as before came running at his father's bellow.

"Yes, father?"

"After the Sorting tomorrow, you are to write me a letter describing all of the First year boys. Pay particular attention to the Slytherins. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father."

"I will expect an owl before you go to bed tomorrow night. I will expect additional owls as least every other day until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, father."

"Now, go finish getting ready for school."

"Yes, father."