PREVIOUSLY:

[… "Tom? Could you please help me with her; before the basilisk comes."

"She won't come until she's called." Smirked Riddle. "Why don't we talk instead?" …]

CHAPTER THREE: 'We Don't Talk Anymore'

"Look, Riddle." Snapped Harry, frustration lacing his voice. "I do not know what you are playing at; but Ginny needs help, not someone clowning around and distracting me. So, either help me with her, or get out of my way."

"As intriguing as those offers sound." Riddle rebutted, cutting Harry off as he moved to walk away. "I will do neither of those things."

"Get out of my way, Tom." Harry growled. Completely done with Riddle's crap, he moved once more to maneuver around him. Swerving to his right, only to be cut off. "This isn't funny." He stated, before proceeding to move in the opposite direction.

"Who said I was trying to be funny?" Riddle countered, quickly cutting him off again with a raised brow. "The basilisk will not come to it is called. We still have plenty of time to talk." The prefect continued, while shooting Ginny a withering look. "The girl is never going to make it out of here alive any way; or had you forgotten." Asked Riddle, refocusing his gaze back on Harry. "She's as good as dead already."

"You're wrong!" Exclaimed Harry. Brushing past Riddle and heading toward the door at a quick walk. Ginny's weight slowing him down immeasurably.

"Locomotor Wibbly." Drawled Tom. Watching with complete apathy as Harry tripped and landed hard against the marbled floor of the chamber. The forward motion flinging the girl over his shoulder, where she landed and remained still after a couple hard bumps and rolls along its surface.

Tom smirked as he watched Harry fumbling through his robes for his wand. "Looking for this?" He taunted, holding out an eleven-inch holly wood wand for the other to see. "You dropped it. When you were picking up Ginevra Weasley."

"Give it back." Harry demanded, as he stood up and advanced on Tom.

"You are not very smart, are you Potter?" Tom Riddle continued, arching a brow as if Harry hadn't spoken. Moving the wand out of the other's reach when they made a grab for it. "You have yet to ask me how I, a student from fifty years ago, could even be here."

"What are you..." 'Trying to say.' Had been the rest of what Harry had meant to say, when a mind-numbing sense of peacefulness had flooded his mind. The tranquility robbing him of his senses. He felt himself kneeling, as he enjoyed the pleasant sensation. He had been doing something. He knew that. Whatever it was though had escaped him.

'Incarcerous.' Riddle cast silently. Watching as ropes appeared and began to bind themselves around Harry's torso. The Boy-Who-Lived, too blissed out of his mind to notice them. But not for long. Removing the imperius curse's hold on Harry. Tom grinned condescendingly, "We are going to talk now."