Sorry this took so long, but I had so many other things to do. Voldemort and Harry's talk both in the diary and the Chamber are from the British version of Chamber of Secrets, which I was luckyy enough to acquire. Well, the internal thoughts and the afterlife things are mine. Enjoy.
"So the child beat you again?"
"Of course he did. I was more enraged than I'd been the first time, but now I find it quite amusing. Of course, I've changed. Now I can see how truly oblivious I was. But that is neither here nor there. I still have more to tell you, and I'd rather end this as quickly as I possibly can. Are there any questions you'd like to ask before I begin?"
Nobody said anything, but a man made his way through my crowd of spectators. His face was monkeylike, and from it hung a beard that swept the shoes he wore. I knew the face immediately, though I'd never met the man. "Salazar Slytherin..."
"Yes." His voice wasn't what I'd imagined it to be, but then, I hadn't imagined it at all. I nearly laughed when I heard him speaking. He'd been my master, my creator, my inspiration, he who had done so much for the purest of wizards. And there he stood, this ancient, ugly creature who hadn't the slightest clue what I had done in his name. I did laugh then. He simply glowered at me.
"What is so funny to you?" he snapped, thinking I was some foolish boy who found his demeaner amusing. Perhaps I was just that.
"You don't know? There is so much I have seen, so much I have done because of what you thought! I let your actions lead me, and I became blind to reality! I must say that I idolised you, even worshipped you at times! I knew nothing of you but what I'd heard and what I read, but you were pure and I was descended from your blood! And so I continued your work that I thought so noble, my every action was in your name, and now I am dead and I see you! I found that you are just as hideous as I was, and that you probably have not changed at all! And with those observations came the largest fragment of truth I've spoken in my entire existance: THERE WAS NO MEANING TO ANY OF IT!"
My screams made him flinch. He, the great Slytherin, had feared that I, a mere wizard, would harm him. His terror only angered me further. "Show some dignity! Are you not the great Salazar Slytherin? You have the nerve to stand before me like this, after all I've done? Perhaps, even after the crimes I've committed, you are not a better man than I have been. You are no better than I. In fact, I should think that I have changed more in this short amount of time than you have in a thousand years! However, I thank you for making me what I was, whatever that may have been. I think it may be time to tell about my return to that chamber of yours..."
I grimaced at the thought of the Horcruxes. "Another year was beginning at Hogwarts, and I was fragmented once more. I admit that it was irksome to be trapped in my own thoughts without any escape or a body to act with, but there was no point in dwelling upon it. Ispent most of my time thinking of new ways to return, and to have my vengeance on that Potter boy. I needed him out of my way.
"I was drawn into a new form without attempting to make one. I cannot explain the rejuvination to you any more than I could explain the concept of evil if you have not experienced it, but I can tell you that coming back was like awakening from a deep sleep. My senses returned -not fully, you understand. I could see my surroundings and smell the musty air and hear sounds if there were any, but it was if there was some barrior blocking me from completely experiencing those things as a living human would. Of course, I was not alive. I had abody that could move, but it was not alive. And I recognised my location almost immediately. I was in the Chamber of Secrets.
"I knew from seeing my reflection in the water on the floor that I looked like my sixteen-year-old self, which meant that the diary had brought me back. But how was that possible? Had Lucius brought the diary back without my permission? That had to be the explanation. I could be angry some other time; at the moment I was focused on returning from the state I was in. I found my solution in a foolish first year girl. She was very keen on writing in my diary. And I could answer her, persuade her to do my job for me. I could do that so easily.
"'Dear Tom, I'm glad that you aswered me. I don't think anyone understands me like you do. Can you keep a secret? I was reminded of Hepzibah Smith. Well, that was ironic, but that could guarantee my sucess. Yes, I could keep a secret. I was quite good at keeping secrets, particularly my own.
"'I think I'm in love, Tom. But he would never like me, ever. I'm just some girl who's his friend's sister, and he's the greatest wizard in the world! Harry Potter could never like me...'
"After so many days of my patience, I'd finally found something. This girl knew Harry Potter. Perhaps the brat could lead me to him. Harry Potter?
"'You'd love him, Tom, I just know you would! He defeated You-Know-Who!'
"I scowled. How highly she spoke of him. The fool. I couldn't help but reply acidly. 'I like him already...' Of course, she didn't see my sarcasm. She was too distracted by her own thoughts.
"It wasn't as if I actually cared about what became of the girl. She was just as disposable as any of my minions had been. And my purpose was more important than her useless little life. So I used her. I poured my soul into her, told her what to do without her knowledge. She performed well, and for some time she noticed nothing. I couldn't have wanted more from her. That is, until she realised what was happening. She panicked. She tried to dispose of the diary. As if my Horcruxes would ever go away.
"I grew more frustrated as I realised what she had done. But then someone was writing in my diary once more, and better yet, the writer was the person I'd been most anxious to meet. 'My name is Harry Potter.'
"Actions failed me for a split second. What was there to do? I could not use the boy as he was already suspected, but I could surely meet him somehow. I decided I would have to gain the boy's trust, make him think that I was on his side. 'Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?' I cringed at my birthname, but it was not as if I could introduce myself as Lord Voldemort and win him over.
"'Someone tried to flush it down a toilet.' I laughed. What a pathetic attempt to be rid of me.
"'Lucky I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read.' I grinned at the unmistakable Horcrux reference. If only dear, dear Salazar Slytherin could see what I had done, he would be proud beyond all measure...
"'What do you mean?'
"'I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things which were covered up. Things which happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'
"'That's where I am now. I'm at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything zbout the Chamber of Secrets?'
"I lay on my stomach on the Chamber floor, the water not affecting my ghostlike form. I laughed, and my laughter echoed at a almost deafening volume off the Chamber walls. He would have cringed if he knew all I knew about the Chamber. I'd have to tell him all I could to cover my own maniacal research and memory of the place. He mustn't know that I was in the Chamber, or that I had so much as seen the entrance.
"'Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippett, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew that it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned.'
"I had to smile. Of course I had not been imprisoned. And Hagrid was a perfect candidate for the master of the Chamber. He must have believed me by that point. 'It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?'
"I smirked when I saw how very vulnerable he was. Too honest, probably, and he thought I would be the same. But then, he'd probably seen the records and the trophy and known that my record was spotless. My efforts had not been wasted. 'I can show you, if you like. You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him.'
"I waited for his reply, but none came. Did the boy not know what I meant? 'Let me show you.'
"His reply came. 'OK.'
"At last I had him. I let him see my memory, let him see that my meeting with Professor Dippett, and then I led him to my capture of Hagrid. I watched from a distance as he soaked in what I saw, and realised that he believed it. He believed that Hagrid had opened the Chamber! He, like so many others, had thought my flawless charade to be the truth. He had no more than average intelligence, then. So how had he defeated me yet again?
"I waited for a reply, hoping to get to know Potter's deepest secrets. But it was the girl again, asking what I'd told Potter, begging me not to harm him... Well, she wasn't the first one whose pleading had been ineffective. It was time for me to rise again, and it was time to get the little girl out of the way for good. I took control of her once more. She write her own farewell on the wall and came to me. She lay on the floor dying, and I stood against the statue of my Slytherin Father, growing stronger and more... alive.
"Potter entered the Chamber in a matter of hours, just as I thought he would. His focus was on the girl, whose death was coming upon her. He begged her to wake up. He didn't even notice the shimmering boy that was Tom Marvolo Riddle standing feet from him. I grabbed his abandonned wand from the floor as I approached him. 'She won't wake,' I told him in the same voice I'd used so many years ago to charm Hepzibah Smith.
"He jumped at the sound of my voice and swiveled on his knees to see the source of the voice he'd heard. His eyes widened. 'Tom - Tom Riddle?'
"I nodded, taking my time to study him. His black hair was sticking up in every direction, and under the glasses he wore were a set of emerald green eyes, just like his mother's. The skin was fair, though not as ashen as my own. This was my enemy. A mere boy. But then, I was only sixteen years old in this new form I had taken. He was obviously clueless about my rebirth.
"'Are you a ghost?'
"'A memory,' I answered in my quiet human voice. 'Preserved in a diary for fifty years.' I daren't tell him how that had happened. I pointed at my diary.
"'You've got to help me, Tom. We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk... I don't know where it is, but it could be along at any moment. Please, help me...' I stood completely still. He managed to hoist the girl up, but he went to pick up his wand, which I was twirling absently. 'Did you see-'
"He looked at my hand that held the wand. 'Thanks,' he said, reaching for the wand. I smiled at him, holding the wand in my fingers. He thought I was helping him. How very wrong he was. 'Listen, we've got to go! If the basilisk comes...' He said this all with the utmost urgency. I almost felt the urge to help him, but then I remembered that he was my enemy.
"'It won't come until it's called,' I told him calmly. He dropped the girl, unable to hold her weight.
"'What d'you mean? Look, give me my wand, I might need it.'
"My smile widened at his dismay. 'You won't be needing it.'
"He simply stared at me. 'What d'you mean, I won't be-?'
"'I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter. For the chance to see you. To speak to you.' Images flashed through my mind, images of the many years I'd spent in existance with neither body nor soul, waiting to have one simple question answered. He clearly didn't see that in the face of Tom Riddle.
"'Look, I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later.'
"The boy didn't know who he spoke to. I had waited long enough for this moment, and I was not going to let it slip from my grasp. 'We're going to talk now.' The smile didn't leave me. I placed the boy's wand in my pocket. He stared at me, suspicious.
"'How did Ginny get like this?' he asked, trying to put the pieces together.
"'Well, that's an interesting question. And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.' So much for love, I added, my thoughts much more acid than my pleasant, casual voice.
"'What are you talking about?'
"'The diary. My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes: how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, how-' I held back a fit of laughter '-how she didn't think the famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her...' I watched him intently as I said these things. I longed to lung at him and have it done at that mment, but I restrained myself. I was not yet strong enough to do such things.
"'It was very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl. But I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom... I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in... It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket...' I laughed at last, unable to hold it in any longer. But the laugh was not Tom Riddle's. It was Lord Voldemort's. 'If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her...'
"'What d'you mean?'
"'Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?' I asked him, wondering how he could possibly find the Chamber itself without knowing the rest of it. 'Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the serpant of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat.' I told him of her unawareness of the diary, of how she'd become more and more alarmed every time she couldn't remember her actions during the day of an attack, of how she'd finally tried to dispose of my diary. And how ecstatic I'd been when it had been his hand writing in the diary afterward. He was quite angry about my framing Hagrid. Of course, his rage only added to my rapturous delight.
"'It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippett. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school Prefect, model student; on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls. But I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realise Hagrid couldn't possibly be the heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and find the entrance... as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power! only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippett to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed. Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did...'
"'I bet Dumbledore saw right through you,' he growled.
"'Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled. I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work.' Of course, that hadn't been my only purpose for the diary. Images of the dead lingered in my mind, but I disregarded them with ease. He knew of none of those things. He only knew what I had told him, and that was not enough to assume that I was using Horcruxes to rejuvinate myself. If he even knew what Horcruxes were. Dumbledore seemed keen on keeeping such matters hidden. Not that it had made a difference in the end.
"'Well, you haven't finished it. No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again.' There was an air of sucess in his voice, and perhaps some attempted mockery. I didn't honestly care, though his cluelessness did make me a bit impatient. What difference would a few pointless lives make if I could thwart Harry Potter and rise as I had so many years ago?
"'Haven't I told you that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me any more? For many months now, my new target has been - you. Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters. So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But it was clear what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue...
"'So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her: she put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter.'
"He had his fists clenched by that moment. 'Like what?'
"I kept the pleasant smile on my face. I kept myself composed. "Well, how is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?' This was the only real question I'd ever had that could make a difference in my life. I gave him time.
"'Why do you care how I escaped? Voldemort was after your time.'
"'Voldemort,' I said softly, loving the feel of the name I hadn't said in so long, 'is my past, present and future, Harry Potter...' I used his wand to write my birthname in the air. With a wave of the wand the letters rearranged themselves so that they read I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. 'You see?' I whispered to him. 'It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name for ever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandonned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry. I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world.!'
"The boy said nothing for some time. I had just shared one of my darkest secrets with him, I had shared the history of my life with my nemesis! At last the words came to him. 'You're not.'
"Was that the onlt thing he had to say He didn't even direct it at any part of my specch! 'Not what?' I snapped, losing my composure. I suppose the talk of my past had somewhat unhinged me. I hadn't been prepared for that one. I'd even surprised myself.
"'Not the greatest sorecerer in the world. Sorry to disappoint you, and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days.' I felt the control completely leave me. I remembered the burning wardrobe when he had told me I was a wizard. That had been fear. I did not fear him now. I only feared my own death, and the oblivion that I thought must have happened afterward. I did not particularly enjoy living (of course, I never enjoyed much of anything), but then, I did not want it to end. I wanted to live, and I would not let Albus Dumbledore stop me.
"'Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!' I hissed, feeling the loathing turn to fire in my veins.
"'He's not as gone as you might think!' he said, a hint of depseration in his voice. He was running out of things to say. I was winning that argument without trying. I was about to tell him what I thought of such pathetic wishes, but I heard a strange music echoing through the Chamber. It was no ordinary music. I wheeled around to see Dumbledore's phoenix. It dropped a ragged cloth at Potter's feet. The Sorting Hat. Was that the only defense he had? I laughed again, and my laughter grew again, filling the Chamber with that soulless cackle.
"'This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now? To business, Harry. Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk, the longer you stay alive.' His eyes studied the Chamber, trying to find a way out of it.
"'No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me. I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother. She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding, you're ugly, you're foul!'
"The boy dared to mock me! Yes, of course I was hideous, but what else would a creature like myself be? Surely he did not expect anything more from me. Being the thing I had been was better than looking like Riddle. And then he would speak of his mother, who had died for him. The Muggle who had given her life so that her son could live! My mother could not live even for me, her only child, the son of her one love. She could not breathe for me, and yet this boy's Muggle mother had STOPPED her breathing so that he could live on. I felt like screaming, like throwing myself onto the floor. But I forced a smile onto my face.
"'So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now - there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Harry Potter. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parsselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike... But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know. Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him.'
"I called the basilisk. I ordered it to kill Potter. The phoenix attacked it. Slytherin's monster was blinded, but it still went after him, lunging at him. But Potter pulled a sword out of the Sorting hat, and drove its blade through the head of the serpant when its mouth opened to him. The serpant's blood went everywhere. One of it's fangs stuck into Potters arm. He fell eventually. The bird rested its head on the wound. Tears came from its eyes. It was over at last. He was dying...
"Or was he? The wound was sealing itself! The tears, of course! They had healing powers! I would have to finish him myself. I pointed his wand at him, ready to end him just as easily as I had ended his father. The phoenix dropped my diary on Potter's lap. What had been the purpose of that action, exactly? Potter seemed dumbfounded for a moment, but then he grabbed the basilisk fang and drove it through the vvery center of the diary.
"Ink blood flooded from the diary. It covered the diary, the floor, Potter's hands. The room was not spinning. I felt a pain in my chest. Agony. My soul was being ripped away once more. I writhed and twisted and squirmed to lessen the pain. It did not subside. I let a scream escape my throat. It seemed to last an eternity. And then I was gone again, trapped within the confines of that destrpyed thing that was my cursed body. I was gone again. And the boy still lived. But that was nowhere near the end of it..."
Salazar Slytherin gawked at me. "What?" I snapped.
"You can't let a phoenix near a basilisk. It never works well."
"That was hardly my concern! Why should you complain? I've done far my life than you've ever fathomed doing in yours! I'm done idolising you! I need a better role model. I need to listen to Albus Dumbledore."