The Girl Who Loved Tom Riddle 12

Submission

Tom bought his new books after selling a few of his old ones, sold his old robes and bought new robes for his own present for becoming the prefect.  Sarah sat and waited for him out Madam Malkin's and didn't speak.  He asked if she wanted an ice cream cone but she shook her head.

"No—that's for kids."

"Sarah, what is it?" he asked.  "You heard me talking to Olive, didn't? Listen…don't let her get to you.  She's just jealous."

"I guess," said Sarah.  "Well, I'm not just a kid anymore, Tom. I'm thirteen years old."

"Yes, I see," Tom said sadly.

"Are you done?" She asked. " Did you get enough?"

"Yeah," Tom nodded.  "I'm done shopping.  We can go back."

--

The rest of the summer before Tom went to Hogwarts, he and Sarah weren't speaking.  Tom wasn't sure what to say to her so he just thought she needed some time to cool off. Sarah couldn't stay mad at Tom anymore.  She knew it was wrong for her to run off when he told her to stay put.  He really was like her big brother but now that she grew a little bit, she started to have more than sisterly thoughts about him.  She felt a little jealous when Olive draped herself on Tom that day in Diagon Alley like she owned him.  Maybe they were the same age and an item but Sarah knew Tom first.  Sarah knew that Tom's feelings toward her changed a bit too.  She noticed it when he came back for the summer.  Neither of them could deny it.  Sarah was growing up into a young woman now and soon the boys would want to woo her.  Sarah didn't like any of the boys at the orphanage.  She liked Tom and only Tom.  He might've been three years older than she was but Sarah didn't care. She was the first boy she had any love for.  But maybe Sarah was wrong to be thinking like this.  After all, Tom was starting his new life at Hogwarts and he already had a girlfriend. Maybe she should move on too.  She wanted to fix things between them so she decided to get him a present. 

As Tom was getting ready to leave for Hogwarts, Sarah approached him.

"Tom," she said, "I want to give you something."

"That's nice Sarah, but I've got to go," he said hurriedly. "The Hogwarts Express leaves at eleven."

"It will only be a minute," she insisted.  "Tom, I'm sorry for the way I acted at Diagon Alley the other day.  I shouldn't have overreacted.  I think that girl Olive just rubbed me the wrong way."

"Hey, forget it, Sarah," Tom shrugged. 

"I thought I've grown up—but I still acted like a kid back there.  It was wrong."

"Forget about it," Tom repeated.

"Well," she pulled out a thin rectangular item wrapped in blue paper from behind her back.  "This is for you. Go ahead and open it."

"I bet it's a book," Tom guessed as he pulled the paper off.

Indeed it was.  But the book was empty.  On the cover it had his full name.

"It's a diary," Sarah explained.  "I wanted your fifth year to be memorable.  You'll be prefect and well—I just thought you won't miss anything if you write your most memorable moments and feelings in it."

Tom smiled. "Thank you, Sarah."

"Well, you'd better go now," Sarah sighed.  "Have a good term."

Tom bent down so he could hug her and kissed her on the forehead.  "Bye, Sarah."

--

Olive was saving Tom a seat on the train and she jumped up to give him a big kiss.  "I've missed you! Here, sit down…"

"Where's Alaric?" he asked as she tried to pull him down. 

"I don't know," she replied, cuddling up next to him.  "He's always late.  Come here and sit with me…"

"You know, Sarah," Tom said, "I'm supposed to be sitting at the prefect compartment."

"Oh," she frowned.  "Can't I sit with you then?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it.  I'll see you when we arrive to Hogwarts."

"But Tom," she said.  "Whom am I supposed to talk to? Alaric?"

He kissed her on the cheek. "I know you'll understand."

"Tom—Tom wait!"  She groaned leaned back. "Boys…"

"Well, look who I've got all to myself," Alaric grinned, sitting across from her. "Where's Tom?"

"He has to sit with all the prefects," she grumbled.  "This is so unfair!"

"Oh, poor Olive can't play kissy face with Tom," Alaric muttered.

"That's not funny."

"Hey, Alaric," Gwen said, coming up to him.  "All right if I can sit with you?"

"Sure…you can sit on my lap."  He took her by the waist and sat her down on his lap, making her giggle and Olive look as if she were about to gag.

"Where's Tom?" said Gwen, looking around. "He's always like the first person here."

"He's in the prefect cart," Alaric explained.  "He made prefect."

"He did?" she asked. "That's great! That's something he's always wanted.  He'll be a good prefect."
 "I hope he's a better prefect than a boyfriend," Olive sighed.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll find time for you," said Gwen. 

"Yeah…sure…" she mumbled, looking out the window as Gwen and Alaric began to make out.

--

Tom played the role of prefect well.  All the first years looked up to him for advice or reported someone to him when there was something wrong. Some of the younger girls flirted with him and not to Olive's liking. Tom couldn't help it.  He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome.  Still, Tom didn't forget about his girlfriend Olive and they talked and played hooky after hours every now and then.  His nightmares wouldn't stop however.  The monster told him to get a move on.

"If you're done playing prefect now—get busy!"

"But I'm already busy as it is!"

"When are you going to get to work?" the monster demanded. "Start looking for the Chamber of Secrets."

"I will," Tom said.  "I'm just taking it slow, so no one can suspect me. I could get caught and get expelled."

"The Chamber of Secrets is here somewhere. Go and find it."

"I'm trying," Tom replied.

"Well, try harder!" the man with the snake-like face shouted.  "Time is running out."

Tom woke up and rubbed his head.  He really should try harder but the school was a big place. It could be anywhere. Tom got out of bed and reached in his trunk for his clothes and he came across the diary Sarah gave him. He saw his name on there and he thought…why was he still going by that name?  The dark wizard from his dream was writing his new name out from the letters of his name but then Sarah woke him up before he saw what they were. Tom shrugged it off, got dressed and went off to his lessons. He wondered about what the new name could be. Maybe the dark wizard was right. Why keep his filthy muggle father's name anyway?  Tom Riddle Sr. was a man he never knew.  The Dark Wizard was right about lots of things.  He was the Heir of Slytherin. He couldn't deny that anymore.  It was time he started to act like it. 

While he was in class one day—instead of working--he wrote out his full name on some parchment.  TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.  He crossed out the "I" out of Riddle and the "A" from Marvolo and the "M" from Tom and wrote I AM.  That's all he saw from his dream when he was with the wizard.  What was he about to spell out?  Tom pulled his quill to his mouth and thought about something.  What did they call royal people back then?  Not Kings…there was no "K" in his name.  Count couldn't be it either.  He was thinking of a noble, an aristocrat, and a real head of something. Lord...that was it…Lord…

He wrote LORD after I AM then crossed the L from Riddle, the O from Tom, and the R and D from Riddle.  Now there were ten letters left.  What could he make up?  Was there a really strong wizard back then with this name? Tom had to think of a name from the remaining ten letters.

'Think, Tom,' he thought.  'Think!'

Could it be a word in Parseltongue? But Tom didn't know any Parseltongue words. He just spoke it when a snake was present. What could the name be?  Tom held his quill to his mouth and thinking it was a sugar quill for a second, he sucked on it and got the bad feathery taste.  "Ghuh."
He hoped no one saw him and he looked at what he written again.  What could those last letters be?  It had to be a good name. It couldn't sound ridiculous. He stared at the remaining letters for a bit and they seemed to rearrange themselves. Then he suddenly saw it. 

Excited, Tom took his quill and wrote it down.  The name with the last ten letters.  It was brilliant.  Voldemort.  It had a nice ring to it. Voldemort.  He wasn't going to be Tom The Orphan anymore.  He was going to live like the Heir of Slytherin for now on. That's his real identity.  He hurried over to tell his friends in the common room after lessons.

"Tom, what's the matter?" Olive asked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Tom said firmly. "Better than I've been in years—but it's not Tom anymore."

"What?"  she inquired.

"Okay—Riddle—what's up?" Alaric inquired.

"Not Riddle either." Tom insisted. "For now on, you can either call me the Heir of Slytherin or Lord Voldemort."
Alaric and Olive exchanged glances.  Alaric grinned.

"You made up a new name for yourself?" he asked.

"I sure did," Tom answered.  "I'm Voldemort—not Tom Riddle anymore."

It took a while for his closest friends to get used to it, but they thought it was cool how Tom came up with a new name for himself, especially Alaric.  Tom tried to continue looking for the Chamber of Secrets but he still was not having any lucky. He was still dreaming about the dark wizard, Voldemort, his future self, but they didn't seem like nightmares anymore.  It was more like a way of communicating with him. He was giving him advice, guidance and encouragement.

--

"Still haven't found the entrance, haven't we?" Voldemort asked.

"I've looked everywhere!" said Tom  "I don't know where else to look.  It's got to be here someplace."

Voldemort walked around Tom.  "Think, Riddle, what is the symbol of Slytherin?"

"A serpent," Tom answered, "because Salazar Slytherin is a Parselmouth."

"Exactly," Voldemort said. "Now, all you need to do is find the entrance."

"But the chamber can be so big," Tom said, "How will I find such a big door with the picture of a snake?"

"Listen, Riddle, don't start thinking it has to be something big. Size does not matter.  It can be something small.  Something overlooked by everyone else. In the last place you'll ever expect.  It wouldn't be in the dungeons where the Slytherin house is, look at every small nook and cranny."

"Something small?" he asked.

"Yes. Something small…remember that.  This is a big job so remember--no one ever works completely alone."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Get your friends to help you look," Voldemort replied. "That way you'll find the chamber of secrets faster.  Tell them to search for something with a serpent on it.  That will be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. It's always in the last place you'd look."

"The last place I'd look," Tom said.

"Tell me, who are you?" Voldemort inquired, holding his arm to Tom.

"I'm you."

"Are you Tom Marvolo Riddle?"
"No," Tom said firmly as Voldemort walked around him.

"Say it again, 'I am not Tom the half-blood anymore!'"

"I am not Tom the half-blood anymore!"

"Good," Voldemort said.  "State who you are."

"I am the Heir of Slytherin," said Tom.

"Louder."

"I am the Heir of Slytherin."

"Again."

"I am the Heir of Slytherin."

"State your purpose."

"I am to carry out Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Starting with what?"

"Finding the Chamber of Secrets and cleaning Hogwarts from those unworthy to study magic."

"You have the power."

"Yes, I have the power."

"And the desire?"

"I have the desire!" Tom exclaimed.

"When are you going to strike?"

"Now! I will strike now!" Tom shouted, enthralled and excited, "I am Heir of Slytherin, Lord Voldemort! I am the greatest wizard in the world!"

"You are ready to face your destiny then, Heir of Slytherin?" Voldemort asked firmly, sounding like a football couch.  "You admit that I was right?"

Tom laughed.  "I don't' know why I fought you all this time.  I should've given in a long time ago.  This idea sounds great.  I am Heir of Slytherin and I will show the world what I can do.  You were right.  I cannot deny it anymore. I am Heir of Slytherin."

--

Tom told his friends to help him look for anything with a snake on it.  It didn't have to be big.  One time when Olive was in the bathroom on the third floor to brush her teeth, she chose the sink that didn't work.  She twisted the knob and looked it over.

"What's wrong with this tap?" she demanded, looking around it. There, she found it, a small snake engraved on the knob.  She brushed dust off it and stared at it.  She could not believe it. This was it. 

"A snake," she whispered, "this can be it. This can be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets---I found it!"  Olive turned around and ran out of the bathroom to find Tom. 

"Tom! Tom!" she exclaimed, rushing to the common room. "I found it!"

"Don't call me Tom," he hissed.

"Sorry, Voldemort," she said.  "I found the entrance—at least—I think I have."

"Where?" he asked impatiently.

"In the girls' bathroom," she answered. "Third level."

"The girls' bathroom?" Alaric demanded, shocked. "This whole time we've been looking all over the dungeon for something with a snake and the entrance has been in the girls' bathroom? No wonder we couldn't find it!"

"Come on, Tom," Olive said, "I'll take it to you after dinner tonight."

They came to the bathroom and Olive told him to wait.  "Here, let me check it first." She walked in, checked the stalls and walked back out, nodding.  "It's clear."

He walked in and she pointed to the snake on the knob. "There it is."

Tom bend down and examined it. "Something small…" he grinned. "Well, it is always in the last place you'd look, isn't it?  Olive, you're amazing!"  he turned to her and gave her a big kiss on the mouth. She blushed and smiled.

"Oh, it was nothing," she whispered as Tom touched the snake just to see if it were real.

"I can't believe we've found it."

"How do we get in?" she inquired.  "There's got to be some kind of password."
"Yes," said Tom, "and I know the password." He looked at the snake and his voice was a soft, low hiss.  The snake turned silver, started to spin and the sinks started to move. Tom pulled Olive back. There was a hole in the ground, only it was blocked up with stone.

"Someone's been here before," said Olive.

"Yes," said Tom, walking over to it.  "They were trying to stop me from finding it—but they underestimated the Heir of Slytherin." He pointed his wand at the hole and used a Cutting Charm to get through.  He turned back to Olive.  "Wait for me here.  I'll be right back."

"Can't I come with you?" she inquired.

"Not this time, Olive," Tom said. "Whatever is down there is very dangerous. I'm the only one able to control it."

"All right," she said, "hurry."

Tom kissed her again and jumped down the hole.  Olive bent down on her knees and looked at the gap.

"Be careful, Tom!"

Tom fell on a bed of rat skeletons and he pushed himself up. He must've slid down miles under the school. He pulled out hid wand and pointed it in front of him. "Lumos."

Tom walked around the underground cavern, careful not to crack his head on low-hanging stalagmites. He came to a pile of rocks and he groaned.

"Oh, the chamber's behind this!" he muttered.  He pointed his wand at the rocks and smashed itto pebbles, coughing through the dust and covering his hand to his mouth, he pressed onward until he came to a large door with snakes on it.  "I found it," coughed. "I've finally found it.  Open."

The snakes parted, the door opened and Tom stepped into the chamber. Large stone snakes were down the hall and he came to the statue of Slytherin. Tom ran to it and looked up at the face.  He thought about what he must do and then, it came to him.

"Speak to me, Slytherin. Greatest of the Hogwarts for."

The mouth opened and he heard something stirring inside it.  Tom walked closer as something slithered up and out the mouth.  It was a giant snake and it hit the ground. Tom jumped back in surprise.

"A basilisk," he said in surprise.  "The creature is a basilisk.  Of course, the king of serpents!"

"Free," said the basilisk, "free!" The monstrous-sized snake slithered to Tom and circled around him. "I thank you.  I hunger for blood.  Hungry."

"I believe you'd be here after a thousand years," Tom said.  "Stay here. I'll be right back."

"I'll be waiting."

Tom walked back out of he chamber and climbed out of the large pipe.  Olive looked at the grime dripping from him.

"Ew! What happened?"

"The thing I slid down was a giant pipe," he replied. "There are a lot of them underground."

"What is the monster?"

"It's a basilisk," Tom answered, "the king of serpents.  It's perfect.  It's a giant serpent.  It has a mouthful of poisonous teeth but that's not the only thing deadly about it.  It has yellow eyes that kill when you look at them directly.  I'm going to need to do a few things before I let it into the school."

"What?" she asked.

"Let's go to the common room," Tom replied, "I'm going to need some help in this."

Tom explained to Alaric, Olive and his closest circle of friends in Slytherin House about the basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, how they'll need to strangle the school roosters and be careful when he lets the basilisk out.  Really early in the morning, they went outside and killed the roosters. Tom wanted to run things smoothly. Nothing could go wrong.  It had to be perfect.  He pained The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir beware on the wall to frighten the students.  Tom opened the Chamber of Secrets several times but the students weren't killed, but petrified.  Tom was having trouble trying to get the person to look at it directly in the eye.

"I need to plan this differently," said Tom.  "The person is always looking at a refection of the basilisk, I need them to look in the eyes if they die. We'll need to pick a good victim too."

"I know," Olive said suddenly. "Myrtle Mason!"

"How?" Alaric inquired, "tell her we've found a date for her?"

"Leave it to me," Olive said with a grin.  "Myrtle likes to hide in that bathroom all the time. This will be very easy."

"What've you got in mind?" Tom inquired.

"I tease her about something," Olive said, "I'll upset her and follow her to the bathroom, but I make sure it's all clear first, Heir of Slytherin, when she's crying, you can walk in and call the basilisk. It will be so easy."

"Wonderful," Tom grinned. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow," she replied.

--

As Myrtle was heading to breakfast, Olive walked up to her with two glass mugs in her hands and grinning, lifted them to her eyes as if they were glasses.  "Look at me! I'm Myrtle Mason!"

Myrtle gasped and stepped back.   Olive cackled and handed them to Gwen.  She didn't stop the music now. She was just warming up. A crowd started to circle around her, egging Olive on.  Olive was the most popular girl in Hogwarts and no one liked Myrtle, and those who didn't like her only pitied her.

"Leave me alone, Olive," she said, stepping to the side but Olive got in her face.

"Oh, Myrtle," Olive said, "we were wondering if we could use your glasses for Herbology class.  They magnify everything—especially your big—ugly eyes!"

"You're so mean to me!" Myrtle cried. 

"And those frames," Olive continued, "what are they made out of?  Where did yu get those ugly glasses of yours?  The garbage?"

Myrtle covered her hands over her eyes, let out a loud sob and turned away.  Olive chased after her, saying mean comments about her glasses.

"Go away!" she hid in the girl's bathroom, sat in the third stall and Olive pounded on the door. 

"Oh…go ahead and cry, Moaning Myrtle," she said, "cry because no one will ever like you and your stupid glasses and your disgusting hair!  Myrtle the Mudblood has the ugliest glasses in Hogwarts!"

"Olive Hornby, you'll get yours someday!" Myrtle sobbed by the toilet. "You just wait! You'll be sorry!"

Pleased with herself, Olive smiled and stepped back out of the bathroom.  Tom was waiting around the corner.

"It's done, Voldemort," she told him. 

"I knew I could count on you," he whispered, cupping her face.

"Can I come with you and watch?" she asked excitedly.

Tom smiled, "Oh, I don't think…"

"Please?" she inquired.  "I want to see Myrtle the Mudblood die."

"Very well," Tom nodded. "But don't look straight into the basilisk's eyes, all right?  He's hiding right under the entrance—waiting."

She nodded, took his hand and followed him into bathroom.  Tom began to speak in Parseltongue and the sink moved out of place.  Olive closed her eyes as the giant snake poked its head out.  Tom told her when it was safe to open her eyes.  Hearing a boy speaking in a made up language, Myrtle stood up, unlocked the door and stepped up.

"Go---" she began and she looked right into the great yellow eyes of the basilisk.  She went all ridged, as if she was hit with a Freezing Charm and fell down cold in the stall.  Olive smiled.

"Rest in peace, mudblood," she said nastily. 

Tom spoke in Parseltongue again and the basilisk slid back down the drain and the sink covered up the opening.

"Great work, Olive," said Tom as he put his arm around her shoulders.  "I couldn't have done it without you."  They walked out of the bathroom.

"So what do we do now?" Olive asked.

"We act casual---like none of this ever happened."

"What if no one finds her though?" she inquired, "It's not like no one will notice her missing."

"All right," Tom said, "you come after lessons are over…right before supper. You can come in during dinner and put on an act.  Try to make it convincing."

"How about this?" she inquired, clearing her throat and putting her hands to her face. "There's a girl dead in the bathroom—it's Myrtle! She's dead!" She put her hand to her face and pretended to faint.

"Beautiful."

An hour after Myrtle died, her ghost rose out of her body.  "Wait a minute," she said, "I can't die yet—I don't want to die.  I want to pay Olive Hornby back for this!"

Myrtle's body started to go back down and she floated around her body.

"Olive Hornby killed me," she said.  "Oh she'll pay for killing me.  I wasn't ready to go yet!"

--

Jacob Potter was prefect for Gryffindor House.  When he had Herbology as his first lesson, he noticed that Myrtle wasn't there. He did not know Myrtle very well except for the fact that Olive Hornby and about the rest of Slytherin House liked to pick on her.  He was working with her during Herbology as one of his lab partners for the week. 

"Where's Myrtle?" he asked Rodger Diggory, the prefect from Hufflepuff.

"I haven't seen her since this morning," he answered.  "When Olive Hornby was teasing her about her glasses."

"Yeah," added Lucy Bones.  "She never leaves her alone."

"I wonder who this Heir of Slytherin person is," Billius Weasley said, snipping the dying leaves from the plant. 

"I've always thought it was a legend," Jacob said.  "But…now that we know it's true, how is everyone supposed to be safe?"

--

Olive casually walked back into the girls' bathroom and pulled out her stick of lipstick, humming to herself.  There on the ground she found the lifeless Myrtle Mason.  She did her best to act shocked, dropping her tube of lipstick and covering her mouth to silence her scream.

"Oh no!  Myrtle!" Olive got down and force herself to touch her cold hand, hoping she wouldn't' catch any mudblood germs.  "Myrtle?  Are you dead? I'd better go get help! Help! Help!"

"Oh don't look so surprised," said a familiar voice, hovering right over her head.  She gasped and looked up. Myrtle's ghost was floating by the toilet where she died.  "So…finally come to see if I was alive, have you? Well, thanks you to, Olive Hornby, I'm nothing but a corpse!"  She made an annoying wail and pointed at her dead body.  "Look what you did to me!"

Olive backed up. "How—how in the?"

"I was so angry how you ridiculed me about my hair and my nose and why I'm not good enough to go to Hogwarts…and now you…pick on me about my glasses!" She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.  "Did you ever think about how it would make me feel?  NO!  Olive Hornby—miss perfect with her blond hair and blue eyes and her perfect boyfriend.  She never thinks about other people!  Well now, I'm going to show you what it feels like!  You killed me, Olive Hornby!'

"I did not," Olive whispered.

"If you hadn't teased me about my glasses," she sniffed, "then I wouldn't have hidden in this bathroom and died! Maybe I wasn't the best witch in this school, but you can't say I didn't try.  No one could say I didn't try. Unlike you, Olive, I worked hard. I knew you cheated.  Why is it that pureblooded witches like you that wind up in Slytherin always cheat? Are you afraid to break a nail if you put your back into it?"

"Myrtle—what—what are you doing?" Olive demanded.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

 She zipped through the air and got in her face. "It's payback time!"

Olive gasped and turned on her heel, running out of the bathroom.

"Go ahead and run, Olive Hornby!" Myrtle shouted. "But you'll never get rid of me!"

"Someone's dead in the girls' bathroom!" Olive shouted. "It's Myrtle Mason! She's dead! Cold as ice!"

Alaric and Tom looked up. Noticing that Alaric was grinning, Tom quickly nudged him in the ribs.  "You'll give us away, you fool!" 

"Oh," Alaric put on a shocked face, "Who's dead? What?"

"Professor Dippet!" Olive cried, looking paler than normal, sweat beading across her head.  "It's Myrtle Mason—she's dead! In the girls' bathroom!  Dead!  It was the Heir of Slytherin, from the Chamber of Secrets! It killed Myrtle!  Third floor!"

This sent all of the students into a panic.  Rubeus put his face in his hands and started to cry.

"P-poor girl!" he said.  "That's jus' awful!"

Jacob's younger brother, Harold a third year, patted Rubeus on the back and Rubeus turned around and gave him a tight hug, nearly choking him.
 Professor Dippet did not know what to do.  He stood up, "E-Everyone, to your dormitories, quickly, prefects, lead your houses to your common rooms and be very careful!  Professors…we will go to the bathroom."

Tom cleared his throat and moved put on his prefect face.  "This way, everyone, follow me, I'm a prefect, come on."

Olive quickly went to his side.  "Tom, I've got to speak to you."

"Nice play, Olive," Alaric whispered.  "You actually did look scared."

"I was scared," she muttered.

"Wait until we get to the common room," Tom softly.  He looked behind him and projected his prefect voice. "Hey, keep up! Keep up!  You don't want the monster to take you away, now do you? Stay together! I don't care if you're scared!  And please, stay alert, this way! Hurry now!"

"Tom, listen," Olive whispered, "something's wrong."

"What do you mean wrong?" he demanded.  "Everything went fine."

"Yeah, Myrtle's gone," Alaric added.

"Oh, no she isn't," Olive said. "She's still here…"

"What are you talking about?" Alaric inquired.  "She died—you guys saw it happen."

"I meant her ghost," Olive said.  "Myrtle's dead but her ghost is still in the bathroom. She was waiting for someone to come and find her—and of all the people it was I—I was the one who sent her there. She's going to find out the truth! What do we do?"

"Olive, she didn't see us," Tom insisted. "The last thing she saw was the eyes of the basilisk."

"But her ghost is still in the bathroom," she said quietly so the other students didn't hear her. They were wondering what the monster was or if it was going to attack them any minute.

The scared little Slytherins hurried to their beds while the older classmen stayed in the common room.

"This isn't good," Olive whispered, "she can probably be here right now…listening in on us…"

"Olive, don't worry," Tom said, "I'll take care of it.  I'll go over there and see what's going on.  She's probably still not there."

 "This is what I get for picking on her," Olive said.  "They'll probably close the school down for this."

Tom got to his feet.  "Maybe if I turn the fake Heir of Slytherin in, we'll wont have to worry about anything.  Just relax, I'll handle everything."

"Really?" Olive asked, dabbing her eyes.

"Well, am I the Heir of Slytherin or not?" Tom demanded, puffing himself up.

"Who?"

"Oh, I'll think of someone," Tom nodded and he stepped out of the common room, up the dungeon steps to the third floor and waited as the professors carried a dead body on a stretcher out of the bathroom. Myrtle's arm was hanging limply underneath the blanket covering her body. Tom tried to put on a sympathetic face and watched them carry her down.

"What are you doing here, Tom?" asked Professor Dumbledore.  "It's not safe at this time."

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore," said Tom, "I know, but I just had to find out for myself if the rumors were true.  What's going to happen to the school?"

"Professor Dippet is thinking of closing the school," he replied.  "We'll send the students home tomorrow."

"Close the school?" Tom asked edgily. "But why? I don't have much of a home to go to, Professor."

"It will be the best thing for Hogwarts."

"But Professor, if the person behind all these attacks was caught," said Tom quickly, "then maybe Hogwarts will stay open?"

"Why, do you know something, Tom?"

"Er—no—sir," Tom replied.  "I will be heading back to my dormitory now."

Tom walked toward the dungeons, opened a door and found Rubeus Hagrid speaking to something in a box.

"Evening, Rubeus," said Tom.

Rubeus turned quickly. "Tom—what're you doing here?"

"They're going to close the school down unless these attacks are stopped," Tom said coolly.  "I don't think you meant to hurt anyone Rubeus, but monsters don't make good pets."

"No, it wasn't Aragog!" Rubeus cried. "Aragog would never hurt anybody!"

"Stand aside, Rubeus."  Tom said sternly.  "Stand aside."

Rubeus didn't move.  Tom shot a spell from his wand whatever was in that box scuttled out and away. Tom turned and pointed his wand after it.

"Aragog!" Rubeus called. "Aragog!"

Tom shoved his wand in Rubeus' face. "They'll take your wand for this, Rubeus.  You'll be expelled."

"But I swear—I didn't do it—I didn't!"

"What is going on here?" demanded a voice behind them. "Riddle!  What are you doing?"

Tom turned around to see Jacob Potter coming into the room.  "You ought to keep your eye on those in your house, Potter, if you don't want to loose any points."

"What are you talking about?" Jacob asked., he looked to the shaking and worried Rubeus.  "Rubeus, are you all right? Why aren't you in the dormitories? What's the matter?"

"I didn't do it, Jacob," Rubeus replied.  "Honest."

"Rubeus was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets," Tom said, "and let the creature out.  It attacked those people and killed Myrtle Mason."

"Why would Rubeus do that?" Jacob asked. 

"He probably didn't mean to hurt anyone, Potter," said Tom.  "He probably just let the thing out for exercise."

"You're talking about Aragog?" Jacob inquired.

Tom smirked, "Oh, so you know?"

"Of course I know," Jacob muttered. "Rubeus showed it to me when he got here. He got Aragog when he was an egg.  I told Rubeus not to keep him in the dormitory because acromantulas—spiders--like the cold and dark…that's why he kept him in a box here in the dungeons."

"You knew," said Tom. "Tell me, Potter, when these attacks happened, why didn't you tell him to take his animal away until now?"

"It wasn't Aragog," Jacob hissed. "He wouldn't hurt anybody out of respect for Rubeus.  He fed him scraps from the table.  I've even seen him and he's harmless. He's still pretty young.  Aragog wasn't the monster in the chamber of secrets. He knew what it was."

"Oh, he did?" Tom inquired, trying not to show he was nervous.  The thing about spiders fleeing from the basilisk, he forgot…how much did that spider tell Rubeus?  "What was it?"

"Aragog never told me," said Rubeus. "He said he wanted to get out. He was afraid of it."

"It must be quite a monster if giant spiders are afraid of it, Riddle," Jacob said, stepping between Rubeus and Tom.  "It couldn't have been Aragog.  How could it be…if it was afraid of the real monster. That'd be like saying Aragog was afraid of himself!"

"Your words Potter."

"How do we know it's not someone from your house, Riddle?" Jacob demanded.

"Oh, is that what you think?"

"Open your eyes, Riddle," Jacob said testily, "the Heir of Slytherin, the Monster of Slytherin, do you really think someone from Gryffindor House would be interested in anything Slytherin?  Think about it, Riddle.  It was someone from your house—and you're framing Rubeus to protect that person—that's what this is all about!"

"Where's your proof?" Tom inquired. 

"All right.  You want proof?" Jacob said, playing all the cards he had in his hand. "Your girlfriend decided to tease Myrtle again and she chases her to the bathroom she dies in."

"What?"

"Oh, don't give me that, Riddle," Jacob grunted, "everyone knows you're an item."

Tom did his best to stay cool.

"We don't see Myrtle all day. I get to Herbology class—you see—we were working on a project together and she wasn't there.  Olive really upset her this time.  The next thing we know, Myrtle's dead, and who to find her but the person who sent her there.  Oh, she really put on a good act…coincidence would you say?"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "So you think…my girlfriend set the monster loose on all those people?"

"It's no secret she doesn't like muggle borns," said Jacob.  "We know her favorite thing to do is give Myrtle Mason a hard time.  She was killed in a girls' bathroom, you really think Rubeus followed Aragog into the bathroom and told him to kill her?"

"I didn't say Rubeus meant to kill anyone," Tom muttered. "He could've just left the thing out for exercise."

"I 'ave never let him out!" Rubeus roared.  "Never! I always kept him in a cupboard."

"It's true,' Jacob added. "I told Rubeus he couldn't keep Aragog in the Gryffindor Tower so he kept him in the cupboard this whole time.  It couldn't have been Aragog.  It doesn't make any sense—why would Salazar Slytherin keep an Acromantula in the chamber if spiders were afraid of the monster?  If Aragog had attacked the students, he would've done it only because he was hungry.  Those who didn't die were petrified.  An Acromantula can't do that.  They would've been eaten.  When Olive cam running into the Great Hall at dinner today, she didn't say anything about any bite marks on Myrtle.  Why would Aragog kill for pleasure instead of food? Rubeus did not open the chamber of secrets and the monster is not Aragog.  Rubeus went into tears when Olive told everyone she found Myrtle dead!"

"Oh yes—because he knew that this spider pet of his did it!" Tom hissed.

"I didn't do it!" Rubeus cried.

"We'll see when Myrtle's parents get here tomorrow with the Ministry of Magic, Potter," said Tom through clenched teeth.  "Then that thing will be slaughtered."

"No!" Rubeus shouted. "You can't!"

'Aragog is probably in the Dark Forest right now," Jacob said, "We won't be able to find him.  I'll be speaking to Dumbledore about this."

"Oh, go ahead, Potter," Tom nodded.  "See if it will do any good.  I'll see you in the morning when the Ministry of Magic gets here."

Tom turned around.

"I know you're hiding something, Riddle!" Jacob shouted after him.  "You're protecting somebody.  I'll find out what you're hiding."

"What makes you think I'm hiding anything?" Tom demanded over his shoulder.

"Oh I saw how you were playing prefect when Olive came to dinner.  You were in a hurry to get everyone from your house back to the common room, weren't you?  I know you're hiding something."

"I don't know what you're playing at, Potter.  I know you're trying to protect Rubeus, but do you really think the Ministry of Magic will believe him?  He'll be expelled.  You might as well take him back to the common room and help him pack."

"I'm not the only prefect trying to protect someone here," said Jacob.  "Someone from yur house has done this. I smell a big snake…."

Tom left the room and walked back to his common room in the dungeons.  It was so seasy to pin the blame on Rubeus Hagrid—but what if Jacob knew the truth?

"Jacob—I didn't do it," said Rubeus shakily.  "I didn't, you know I wouldn't."

"Rubeus, let's just go back to the common room, okay?" Jacob asked. "I don't think Dumbledore will let you be expelled."

--

Telling the Ministry that Rubeus did not open the Chamber of Secrets didn't help much.  They took Tom's word over Rubeus' because he was a model student and prefect and Rubeus liked to make pets out of monsters.  Jacob talked until he was blue in the face that Rubeus would never hurt anyone and Tom was mistaken.  He told Myrtle's doctor father that she didn't have any bite marks on her body so it couldn't have been Aragog.  They broke Rubeus' wand not many pieces and the board expelled him.

"But I swear—I didn't do it!" he wailed.

"Wait, Armando," said Dumbledore, "Rubeus has no where to go.  His father died last year.  Vincent McKinnon is thinking of retiring from the gamekeeper soon.  We should keep Rubeus here and train him as gamekeeper."

 "Yeah, that's perfect for Rubeus!" Jacob exclaimed. "You can't send him back home."

"Now Albus," Dippet said, "he has been in plenty of trouble already, keeping a big spider in our school and letting it out to attack people."

"But--," Rubeus began.

"Why don't you go back to your dormitories," Dumbledore said. "We will take care of this."

"Come on, Rubeus," Jacob groaned, taking the bigger boy by the sleeve

--

Later that evening, Jacob saw Tom talking to his friends about what happened. The Minister of Magic gave him a golden trophy and he bragged about it to his friends. Angered, Jacob went to confront him.  "I knew you set up Rubeus."

"You're not still on that, are you?" Tom inquired.

"Someone in your house let that monster in the school," Jacob muttered, "and you blamed it on Rubeus so you could get an award!"

"Potter, why don't you prove it?" Alaric demanded.

"You're going to apologize for what you did publicly or--,"

"Or what, Potter?" Tom questioned, stepping forward so their faces were just an inch apart.  "What would you do?"

"A broom race, Riddle," Jacob answered firmly.  "What will it be?"

"You know he's not good on a broom as you are!" Olive hissed. "That's not fair!"

"Fair?" Jacob demanded, turning his face to Olive's, "Fair?  Was it fair for you to kill Myrtle Mason because she was muggleborn?  Now Myrtle might have been muggleborn and she wasn't as gifted as some, but that doesn't mean she didn't try hard."

"Going sweet on mudbloods, are we?" she inquired.

"Watch your mouth!" Jacob shouted.  "I know you had something to do with Myrtle's death. I smell a snake."

Olive cleared her throat, "I don't know what you're talking about, Potter."

"So, you really think you can keep the truth from coming out, do you, Riddle?" Jacob demanded. "The truth will come out—maybe not tomorrow—but someday, everyone will know you set Rubeus up and you're covering for someone in your house.  You are to apologize to Rubeus for setting him up, or we're having a broom race. What will it be?"

"What's the matter, Potter?" Alaric inquired.  "You don't want to have a duel with V..."

Tom shook his head at Alaric.  Jacob raised his eyebrow.

"Tom?" he continued.  "You afraid you're not going to win?  Let's play fair…"

"You don't know anything about what's fair."

"Oh, I'm sure Tom will let you get the first hit."

"Fine," Tom said finally, surprising his friends. "You want a broom race, Potter? Then you shall have one."

"Good," said Jacob. "Meet me outside on the Quidditch field."

"I'll be there," Tom muttered.

"Tom," Olive whispered, "You're not a good flier."

"You don't even have a broom, remember?" Alaric added.

"Then I guess I'm going to have to use yours, won't I, Alaric?" Tom demanded.

Alaric and Olive exchanged glances.  Nevertheless, Tom and Jacob met on the Quidditch field, brooms in hand. 

"We are going to fly from this goalpost to the hoops on the other end, tag them,," instructed Jacob, pointing, "over the lake to the other side where the railroad is, tag the ground and come straight.  The winner will be the one who gets back first.  You can still apologize for humiliating Rubeus. It's not too late, Riddle."

"Shut up, Potter," Tom hissed.  "Let's end this."

"On your brooms," said Terrie Johnson, holding up her wand, "ready, set, go!" she sent up red sparks and the two prefects set off.  Tom worked hard to keep the broom steady. He knew if they were on a horseback race he'd beat Jacob, no questions asked.  Jacob was in the lead.  Jacob tagged the hoops and soared over the lake, Tom not that far behind.  Tom tried not to look down at the water and kept his eyes steady. Jacob flew down, touched the railroad tracks and zipped past Tom as he was coming over the lake.

"Hurry, Tom!" Olive cried.

Tom pushed himself to go faster.  He wasn't goig to lose to Jacob.  He touched the railroad tracks and as he went over the lake the second time, he lost his grip on the broom and fell into the lake as Jacob made it back to the goalpost.

"Jacob wins!" Billius shouted.

"Oh no, Tom!" Olive gasped, rushing to the lake with Alaric.  The Gryffindors cracked up laughing, rolling on the ground.

"Are you all right?" Olive asked Tom as he swam back to shore.

Tom pushed himself up, shook his wet, jet-black haired head and slammed Alaric's broomstick into his chest.  He walked over to the field, staring Jacob down, too angry to find the words. He merely pointed at Jacob and sneered.  Jacob looked back challengingly.

"I guess I'm the winner, Riddle."

Tom took in a deep breath and pushed his hair back.  "Wait until the Headmaster hears about this—Potter.  You will be expelled too."

"It would be a lot simpler if you just told the truth, Riddle," said Jacob. "For everyone."

"A little late in the day for Quidditch practice, isn't it?" Dumbledore said, walking onto the field.

Both prefects gasped and started speaking at once.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter pushed me into the lake--,"

"It wasn't right for him to brag about his trophy, Professor so I challenged him to a broom race if he didn't apologize."

"I did no such thing."

"You didn't catch the real culprit."

"Prove it, Potter."

"That's enough!" Dumbledore shouted over their voices.  "Both of you to your dormitories.  I'm going to have to take twenty points from both house."

"But Professor Dumbledore," Jacob began.

"I regret having to take points from my own house, believe me, Jacob, I really do," Dumbledore said sincerely, but there was a hint of anger in his eyes, "but I thought I knew you better as a prefect to come here at this hour for a broom race—for whatever the reason may be.  To your dormitories."

Tom gave Jacob one last angry stare and walked off with Olive and Alaric.

"Professor," Jacob said, "maybe I was wrong to challenge him to a broom race but he was saying mean things about Rubeus. I know he set him up.  Rubeus didn't do anything wrong."

"I know, Jacob, I know," Dumbledore nodded.

"You don't think he did it, do you?"

"Oh, of course not.  I know Rubeus is innocent," Dumbledore insisted.  "Now, I've talked to Professor Dippet and he has agreed to letting Rubeus stay on as gamekeeper."

"What about Tom Riddle?" Jacob inquired, "I think he's hiding something, Professor.  I know it."

"Now, Jacob, I admire the fact that you want to see the real culprit caught," Dumbledore said, "but I don't think we will find out who it is right now.  I will keep an extra close eye on Tom.  I'll advise you not to go picking any more fights.  Remember, my help will be given to those who will need it, all right?"

Jacob breathed a sigh of relief mixed with frustration.  "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now please remember to use your flying ability wisely, Jacob," Dumbledore added, his blue eyes twinkling, "We wouldn't want to lose our best Seeker, now would we?"

Jacob had to smile.  Dumbledore knew how to make everything all right.  "Yes, Professor."

--

Jacob felt a lot better knowing Dumbledore had everything under control keeping a close eye on Tom everyday. It was too much a risk for him to open the Chamber again to for another attack so Tom had to come up with another idea.  Voldemort from his dark side told a great idea.

"If you can't do it yourself," he said, "work through someone else."

"Work through someone else," Tom said, walking back and forth.  "How do I get someone else to do it? I'm the only Parselmouth and that means that only I can open the Chamber of Secrets."  He glanced at the book of dark runes and picked it up, looking up a way to work through someone else.  He could put his self into something, some object, so when some innocent and naïve person came across it, thinking it was just an ordinary thing, Tom would have them doing his very bidding.

But what could he use? Tom looked around. What could he use?  He had to have something here.

And then he found it. The diary Sarah gave him before he left on the train this term. It was perfect. He could put himself in the book, and when someone else wrote in it, he could write back to them and take them over. It was brilliant.

Laughing to himself, cleared everything he had written in the book and started to write some difficult to read letters on the front page with a special kind of ink.  It was so simple, so brilliant.  No one would ever think that a harmless, silly little book could do so much, no matter whose hands it would happen to fall into.  His friends didn't now about his plan.

"Tom, Rubeus Hagrid has been caught," said Alaric, "go on, you can open the Chamber of Secrets again."

"So what if Jacob Potter beat you at that broom race," Olive muttered.

"I can't," Tom said impatiently, "Dumbledore seems to be wherever I go now.  I think Potter might have tipped him off that I'm up to something."

"But what about the Chamber of Secrets?" she asked.  "The basilisk?"

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," he grinned.  "Since I won't be able to do it, I'll have to work through someone else."

"Who? How?"

"With this," he answered, holding his diary out.

"Your diary?" Alaric inquired with a confused look on his face.

"I've put myself in this diary," Tom said, holding it up.

"Hey, can I see it?" Olive asked excitedly over his shoulder. "What've you written about me?" She opened to the first page to find that it was blank. "Voldemort, why is it blank?"

"Just because you don't see any writing," Tom replied, "don't mean I'm not there.  Someone will come across it and use it to open the Chamber of Secrets again."

"Where'd you get it?" Olive inquired.  "It has your name on it."

"It was a present from Sarah," he answered.

Olive pursed her lips together. "Sarah the Squib gave that to you? And you're going to use it?"

Tom rolled his eyes, "Oh, Olive…"

"I think it's a great idea," said Alaric quickly, "how does it work, my lord?"
"Write in it," Tom prompted.

"Write?"

"Yes. Go ahead."

"Write what?"

"Anything...write your name…"

Alaric cleared his throat, took his quill and dabbed it in his inkbottle and scribbled, My name is Alaric Malfoy.

Underneath Alaric's words, new words appeared, in Tom's handwriting. Hello, Alaric Malfoy, my name is Tom Riddle.

Then the words disappeared.

"Disappearing ink," said Olive.

"Yes, then no one will know about the book," Tom explained.  "So if the reader gets any idea what they're doing, they won't be able to prove it."

"Wow," Alaric mumbled, "you're really are in it, aren't you? But how can you be in there…and out here at the same time?" He pointed into the book and at the room.

"A simple little trick, as all," Tom insisted. "Now, someone will think this is just an ordinary diary but when they start to write in it, they will see that it's something more…that there is someone inside the pages.  I can get that person to open up to me, tell them all about themselves and I will get strong with everything they put into me.  I will be able to get them to do things for me, like opening the Chamber of Secrets, strangling the roosters and painting the messages on the walls."

"Perfect!" Alaric gasped.

"Oh, it gets better," Tom said excitedly.  "I can bring the person into my past—and see what I've done.  I can show them the day I opened the Chamber of Secrets, the time we killed Myrtle and attacked the others…"

"How about when Sarah the Squib gave you this book?" Olive demanded, arms crossed and lips pressing together.
"Quiet, Olive!" the two boys hissed.

"So they can see things you've done?" Alaric inquired. "Will you see them?"

"No," Tom answered.  "It will be like they're watching television."

"What's television?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, never mind." He said, waving his hand.

"I'd like to give it a try—can you send me to the time you opened the Chamber of Secrets for the first time?"
"Yeah, but you'll have to write in it for it to work," Tom answered.

"All right." 

Alaric picked up his quill again and wrote, Can you show me when you opened the Chamber of Secrets for the first time?

Under Alaric's request, came Tom's reply.

Of course I can, but close your eyes when the basilisk comes into view.

Alaric was pulled into the book like a vacuum.  He was standing with Olive and Tom in the bathroom and the sink started to move.  He talked to them and waved his hand in their faces but they had no idea he was there.  Tom kissed Olive and since Olive didn't know Alaric was there, Alaric kissed her too and jumped down the pipe after Tom.

"Oh, disgusting," he groaned as slime ruined his robes. "My father is going to kill me…"

They fell on the ground of rat bones.  Alaric jumped up, scared and brushing himself off.  He went after Tom who was heading to the darkness.

"Oi, wait for me!" he called out, though he knew he couldn't hear him. Tom broke the rocks blocking the path to the Chamber of Secrets and Alaric shielded himself and brushed the dust from his clean hair.  Tom opened the Chamber and Alaric hurried in after him. He gasped when he saw the giant statue of Salazar Slytherin.

"It's Salazar Slytherin!" He exclaimed. 

Tom spoke in Parseltongue, the basilisk came slithering out of Slytherin's mouth and fell on the floor.  Alaric closed his eyes, wishing he could see the basilisk.  Then he felt something pulling him back, out of the chamber, out of the pages of the book and he fell on the ground of the Slytherin Common Room.

"Well, what do you think?" Tom asked.

Alaric brushed the dust from him. "Filthy…"

"Oh, yes, I should've warned you about that."  Tom grinned.

"So?" said Olive.

"Oh, I kissed you," Alaric winked making Olive look like she was going to curse him. "Nevertheless, my lord, that was brilliant," Alaric added, "absolutely brilliant. My father will be so sorry he didn't agree to adopt you."

"Who will you give the diary to?" Olive inquired. "Leave it tucked away somewhere in the dormitory?"

Tom closed the diary and handed it to Alaric.  "Here, Alaric.  Didn't you say you were going to be a school governor?"

"Yes," he answered slowly, "but why would…"

"Hand it down," Tom ordered. "Don't let your son use it right away.  Wait some time."

"How much?"

"Oh, I don't know," Tom retorted, "fifty years or so—when people have forgotten about the Chamber of Secrets and what happened here.  Get your sons to be school governors to, and your grandsons, you'll have quite a story to tell them."

Alaric grinned.  "Sounds like a plan."

To Be Concluded