Tom was surprised to see her there. He was sure that he didn't see her in the corridoor, and she couldn't have come here so fast without running, which he surely would've heard. Maybe she used a disillusionment charm, he thought, mentally cursing himself for not remembering to check for that. Tom realized that she must've suspected him ever since that dratted boy in their History of Magic class had asked the teacher what the Chamber of Secrets was. The teacher had told them, albeit reluctantly, about the myth and how only the Heir could open it. Tom sent a 'Stupefy' at Annabeth. She blocked it and sent a curse back at him. He dodged it and decided that he should first take care of Myrtle. Sending a silent 'Petrificus Totalus' at her, Myrtle dropped to the ground frozen, her eyes wide open.
"Kill that girl," Tom hissed at the basilisk in Parseltongue. The basilisk met eyes with Myrtle, and Tom knew that she was dead.
"No! NO!" Annabeth yelled. She pointed her wand at Myrtle, undoing the 'Petrificus Totalus', and ran to her side, her eyes on Tom the whole time. She felt Myrtle's hand, but Myrtle was still and cold. Tom sent a Confundus charm at Annabeth, which she blocked easily, and Annabeth sent a jet of purple light back at him. They kept dueling for a while because Tom wasn't able to defeat Annabeth. She's good at dueling, he thought in wonder. She stood against me for so long. Tom sent two quick spells at Annabeth, one right after the other. Annabeth dodged one of them, but the other, Expelliarmus, hit home. Annabeth's wand flew out of her hand and Tom caught it. Annabeth looked at Tom tiredly.
"You could've been a good Seeker, you know," she said with a small, tight smile. Tom sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. Only Annabeth would say something like that to someone who was attacking her.
"You killed me!" a voice yelled. "Why did you kill me?" Tom turned around, surprised to see Myrtle.
"Because you're a filthy muggleborn," Tom hissed in response. "Why are you still a ghost?"
"I haven't gotten back at Olive Hornby for teasing me about my glasses. Oh well, I suppose I could annoy her better as a ghost," Myrtle responded. Tom saw a solid hand try to grab one of the wands in his hands. Tom stretched out his hand, the one with both wands in it, out of Annabeth's reach. Because she was about a head shorter than him, and because he had long arms, she couldn't get the wand.
'Should I kill the other girl?" the basilisk asked.
"No, not yet," Tom asked. He decided to consider his options. To his surprise, he saw that Annabeth hadn't even tried to run. Maybe she's gotten stupider, and I haven't noticed. Oh well. First, he waved his wand, and the bathroom had a door, which was locked.
"I wasn't going to try to leave, you know. The main reason I came here was to talk to you," Annabeth replied. So she does know what she's doing. But what could she want to talk about? And why would she stay when she'd just seen him try to kill a muggleborn? Tom didn't respond. "Why Tom? Why are you doing all of this?"
"It's my inherited duty. Besides, Muggles are filth, and therefore, so are muggleborns since they are descended from Muggles." She might tell on me, but who would believe her? After all, I am Tom Riddle, the perfect orphaned child, smart, handsome, charming, and prefect. Dumbledore might though. He's seen the rude side of me at the orphanage, and he never seemed to take things at face value. But Annabeth wouldn't have proof. The fact that they thought that he was Slytherin's Heir was solely based on the fact that Slytherin had a descendant by the name of Marvolo, which happens to be the name of my grandfather. There could be other Marvolo's though. That's not enough proof. But this is the magical world, and she could use her memories as proof. He decided to perform a test to see if he still had hope. He probed her mind, trying to perform Legilimency on Annabeth. She felt it, and blocked him. He withdrew, satisfied.
"You know Occlumency, and you're pretty good at it," Tom smirked. "Now, even if you try to use your memories as proof, then they won't believe you because a good Occlumens can plant fake memories." Annabeth, who seemed to have been thinking along those lines, groaned and put her head in her hands. She looked back up at him.
"So what are you going to do now Riddle? Kill me?" Annabeth asked coldly. While Tom didn't let his reaction show on the outside, he flinched internally at her use of his last name so coldly. They had known each other for so long that his last name sounded strange, even alien-like from her, especially in the tone she said it in.
"If I had planned on that, why would I have given you a lecture about not telling anyone?" Tom responded.
"Why did you do this though? Why did you kill Myrtle? Why are you against the muggleborns? And why are you not against me?" Annabeth asked, her voice laced with hints of a sob.
"Like I said, Muggles are filth. Did you see those Muggles at the orphanage? They were so petty, so undignified, and they acted like dirt. Don't interrupt Annabeth, I know that you were about to. I'm not against you because you treated me well even before you knew about magic, and even before you knew about magic you were more dignified than those Muggles. Had you been Muggle, you still would've been unique, and you're still a unique witch. Harming you would be a waste. Besides, you are a more objective person than most. If you think about this without emotion, you'll see that I'm right." Tom realized that Annabeth would be a great companion for his mission.
"But you didn't think this way before last year, when you found out about your father. Did that change your mind?" Annabeth asked.
"No, it simply made me see the truth about Muggles. I mean, he obviously abandoned my mother if she had to give birth in such a dingy orphanage. And if Muggles can abandon family after finding out the truth, then they're obviously scum."
"But muggleborns' parents haven't abandoned their kids after finding out that their children could do magic. That proves that not all Muggles are like that." Then, her voice took on a more understanding tone. "I'm sorry that your dad did what he did. I'm sorry that you got unlucky and had your dad do that. But the fact is that they're not all like that."
"They just see the usefulness of having a magician in the family," Tom spat.
"Tom, no. The biggest reason Muggles may not like magic is because they're scared of what people could do. Most Muggles won't blame wizards and witches for mishaps like a bad crop season because they have become more advanced in the sciences. Besides, muggleborns' parents still accept them despite knowing that it is possible for their children to use their magic against the parents. If they still accept them, it's purely based on love for their children." Some of what Annabeth is saying is makinig some sort of sense, Tom thought.
"But there are still a lot of Muggle scum who try to get rid of us because of our power. Look at my filthy Muggle father! He abandoned my witch mother! She was more powerful than him. How dare he abandon her. And why would my mother marry such dirt?"
"Tom, your mother loved your father. Your father didn't know of magic. He was rich and well-known in Muggle society, which was pretty much the epitome of power in the Muggle world. Your mother grew up with a father and a brother who hated and abused her. When she saw your father, she fell in love with him," Annabeth explained.
"How do you know all of this?" Tom asked with narrow eyes. Annabeth hung her head.
"It was in that book series," she said faintly. Tom didn't need to ask her which book series. But why would I be in it? Why would they describe my parentage? I mean, I made an anagram of my name this year, which is 'I am Lord Voldemort', so I'm in the series as Lord Voldemort. That means that they must've been describing Lord Voldemort's past, meaning my past! And if they described my past as Lord Voldemort's past, then Annabeth probably knows, and has known for years!
"How do you know that it was my mother and father?" Tom demanded. Annabeth looked at the floor and whispered inaudibly.
"They mentioned your father's name. Tom Riddle." Tom was taken over by a sudden, intense anger. He reached out and slapped Annabeth hard across the face.
"How dare you keep such information from me! How dare you not tell me about my own parents! I deserve to know more than you." She looked up at him acceptingly, not surprised at all.
"I was worried that that would set you on the path to becoming Lord Voldemort. I didn't want that to happen if I could help it."
"Well, your efforts were in vain," Tom said icily. "Do you know anything else?" Annabeth continued.
"Your uncle had attacked Tom Riddle, your father. A Ministry official came to investigate, and your grandfather and uncle were rather unpleasant to him. Your grandfather abused your mother in front of the official though, so the Ministry arrested your grandfather and uncle. Merope, your mother, was free. She loved your father, and while no one knows the details, your father soon ran off with your mother. It was a huge scandal in Little Hangleton." Annabeth paused, and Tom took this opportunity.
"So my father is a bigger piece of slime than I thought. He ran off with my mother and then he abandoned her!"
"Tom, your father had a girlfriend. Harry was looking at a memory of the Ministry official when he came to the Gaunt house, and during it, your father rode past the house with a woman he called 'Cecilia darling'. Your father didn't love your mother, and we can make a reasonable guess that Merope was able to do magic after her father and brother were in Azkaban. She could've used the Imperius curse, or used Amortenia, which would explain Tom's sudden decision to run off with your mother. He came back a couple of months later, saying that he was 'hoodwinked and taken in'. He must've realized what had happened, but didn't truly say it in fear of appearing crazy. Your mother was devastated, and either her unreturned love sapped her magic away, or she was so broked-hearted that she didn't have the will to stay alive."
"My mother was so weak as to let love swallow her. Pathetic," Tom sneered.
"Tom, she...she sold her heirloom, Slytherin's locket, for ten galleons. That shows how desperate she was for money. She must've thought that even that orphanage would've been able to provide for you better than she could've. In the end, she did what she thought was best for you, Tom." Annabeth said softly.
"How dare my father abandon my mother, who was the Heir of Salazar Slytherin? How dare he leave her, thinking that he with his money and stature was better than my mother, who had such a powerful ancestor? How dare he -" Annabeth cut him off, exasperated.
"That has nothing to do with love though Tom! Even if he did know the significance of your mother's ancestry, it wouldn't have changed anything. He wouldn't have loved her. You think that love is based on how powerful someone is, how rich they are, or their ancestry? You're wrong. It's preposterous. I didn't fall in love with you because you're Salazar Slytherin's heir!" Annabeth yelled. She realized what she had accidentaly blurted out in her outburst at about the same time as he did. "I... I meant..." But then she stopped trying to cover it up, and instead glared at him defiantly, as if saying 'Yes, I do love you, and I dare you to say something about it'. Tom thought back to the first time they had met. She had been so kind, so caring. Even when he had wanted to take revenge on the other kids at the orphanage, she understood him. Yet she wasn't cruel or evil. She didn't want to hurt other people if she could help it. He thought about the way she seemed to accept him. She didn't like him merely for his intelligence, for she had intelligence nearly good enough to rival his own. She liked him as much when they were younger as she did now, so it wasn't merely his good looks that attracted her. Does all of this show her love for me? And how can she love me still after knowing what I am now, what I do? She doesn't love me, she merely thinks she does.
But she knew, another part of him said. She knew what you would be for four years, and yet she still was nice to you. She still helped you find your ancestry, and she didn't hate you for it despite knowing what it would lead to. She gave you a chance, a chance to be a different person, before she judged you.
I know, he told himself. I know now why she was angry at me for using Veritaserum on her. Things would've been quite different if I knew about my future, and I might've pursued the path of becoming a dark lord sooner. She still forgave me for using Veritaserum on her. And considering how kind and non-violent she is, she's still trying to be understanding, trying to see why I am doing what I'm doing. For the first time in his life, Tom was genuinely and throughly confused.
Hey guys! I'd really like reviews for this chapter. I've been having this intense turning point playing repeatedly in my brain, and I'm finally glad to have reached this point in the story. However, I want to know how I did with portraying Tom. Is he too OOC, especially at the end? I'd love the feedback. Almost at the climax!
Alice: The reason that I have Tom call the basilisk is because in the Chamber of Secrets, when Myrtle describes her death, she says that she heard a boy hissing, which means that he was probably outside the chamber. When she came out to tell him to go away, she saw a pair of big yellow eyes, which meant that the basilisk was already outside. So I tried to keep that part canon, even if it doesn't make sense.