Summary: It's not every day that someone discovers a new corridor in Hogwarts. When Harry does, he lets his curiousity get the best of him winds up in a lot of trouble, not to mention another time. Can he survive attending Hogwarts in the year 1942 with a sixteen year old Tom Riddle? And how will this encounter change the fates of both boys? HP/TR SLASH

Disclaimer: Sadly enough, I do not own Harry Potter or anything even remotely affiliated with it.

A/N: The chapter has been edited for minor spelling/grammar errors.


CHAPTER TWO: AN INTERESTING DISCOVERY

--(A/N: This chapter is written from Tom's point of view.)--

Why is it that everything has to happen in threes? No, I take that back; it's only the things that you really don't want to happen in the first place that keep reoccurring, coming back to bite you in the butt over and over again. I swear I must be cursed or something. Perhaps that bastard Riley Weasley jinxed me--Wait a minute, what am I talking about? That inept Gryffindor couldn't curse a rat to save his life, let alone someone with superior magical powers such as myself. Perhaps I broke a mirror, or stepped under a ladder or--Great Merlin! I sound like some inferior superstitious muggle!

Muttering a string of curses under my breath aimed at no one in particular, I continue to walk swiftly down the hall and towards the library where I spend much of my time. Perhaps I can get in a good hour of 'research' before I have to head out to quidditch practice. Of course, by research I mean looking up more about Salazar Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets. I can't believe I still haven't been able to find out where that damn thing is.

I'm so lost in my musings that I bump into someone in the hallway who happens to be headed in the opposite direction as myself. I glare at the insidious little first or second year and they cower, squeaking out a fright induced sorry, before scampering off, though not before I take note of the Hufflepuff insignia sewn onto the front of their school robe. Damn Hufflepuffs, cowards the whole lot of them.

With that thought I continue on route to the library running over my mental tally of 'things gone wrong' so far today. First there was Transfigurations where that twinkly-eyed, know-it-all, nuisance Dumbledore had the audacity to reprimand me for chewing Collins out after he tried to sabotage my project. Then there was potions where someone actually did sabotage my project. (Note to self: get back at Longbottom for ruined potion.) And then, to make matters worse, that lunatic Lobelia Lovegood all but stated my plans for world domination; thank god hardly anyone takes her seriously!

I slam open the double doors to the library, ignoring Mrs. Stern as she glares at me when the doors clank shut loudly and disturb the quiet air of the only place I consider a sanctuary in this damn Gryffindor run school besides the Slytherin dungeons. I mechanically make my way to the far back corner, hidden from sight unless you know where you're going, my feet making the journey without me having to even think about where I'm going because I have come here so often.

I throw my book bag onto the floor next to my usual work table before heading towards the History of Hogwarts section where information about the school and its founders is kept. I automatically head towards the S portion where the books authored by Slytherin, Salazar are kept. Although I've been reading anything and everything he's written for weeks now, there are many more books I have yet to read, for I haven't come across the information I've been searching for, namely the location of the Chamber of Secrets and how to enter said chamber. Ever since I found out about my true heritage I've been trying to learn as much as I can about it, though not to much avail.

To think that the heir of the greatest founder didn't know about the wizarding world until he was eleven, let alone his heritage; it's preposterous! All this time, they knew I was staying at that horrible muggle orphanage and yet they did nothing about it. In fact, they are still doing nothing about it! Every single summer they send me back to that damn hellhole. But no matter, they'll see their mistake before the end. Yes, they'll see, whether they want to or not.

The thought of my eminent revenge brings a twisted half smile to my hardened features as I skim my finger over the spines of countless books before finally settling on a small, very old looking text covered in worn green dragon hide and lacking a title. There's something about it that makes me pause; it's almost as if the book is calling to me to pick it up and uncover all of its long forgotten secrets. It sounds somewhat silly, but in the magical world, you never truly know; perhaps the book really was calling out to me.

My interest piqued, I carefully extracted the text from its neighbors, skimming my hand along the expensive outer covering before cracking the book open to have a peek inside. The first page is blank, a plain piece of faded yellowish colored parchment embossed in silver at its edges. I quickly flip it over and am shocked by what I uncover. In an elegant hand the words "The Secrets of Slytherin" are embossed along with a glistening silver snake drawn laboriously below. I could have sworn my heart skipped a beat as I took this in. This was it! This was what I had been searching for all along!

My hand shaking slightly in anticipation, I reverently turned the page and once again became enthralled by the refined, spiraling scripture.

To my dear decedents,

If you are reading this account of my life, then it means that you are of my lineage and therefore my heir. None but my true heirs can read this book for it is in the parseltongue for which I am renowned and is gifted henceforth to none but my bloodline, of that I have made sure. There is much contained within this journal which has been kept secret from any and all save those of my line. In order to keep it so, this is the only written account of all that I expect of my heirs and all else written in plain English is but a façade for the eyes of the public and the ministry which have forsaken me. Should anything herein contained be released to the wizarding world, it would carry dire consequences for all of my bloodline and for the Slytherin house which I have founded for purposes which will be further explained at another point in this book. As my heir I expect you to know how imperative it is to keep this record hidden, even though there are none who can read it but you and any other decedents of mine. Keep these secrets well and fulfill that which I cannot in my stead.

The sire of your bloodline,

Salazar Xavier Slytherin

I stood there for a moment, stunned by my most fortunate discovery. I looked around warily, paranoid that someone would discover me before muttering a hasty anti-detection charm of my own making and stashing the book of my ancestor in a hidden inner pocket of my robe. Grabbing a random book off of another shelf and checking the title, The Age of Enlightenment: An Account of the Hogwarts Founders, to make sure that it was nothing Mrs. Stern should be suspicious of, I went back to my study corner to grab my book bag before heading to the checkout counter.

Taking a few slow, steady breathes to slow my rapidly beating heart, I walked at my usual pace up to the front desk of the library, my face as impassive and unreadable as ever. Mrs. Stern gave me a sharp look from behind her too small spectacles that pinched the bridge of her nose, though this was nothing to be concerned of, just her typical behavior. She was probably still somewhat peeved over the disturbance I had caused upon my arrival. Nevertheless, she ran her wand over the front of the book with practiced efficiency and wrote my name along with the title of the book on the checkout list before handing back the rather heavy tomb.

"As always, Mr. Riddle, the book is due back in two weeks' time. I expect it to be returned in the same condition as it is now or there will be points docked. I don't want there to be any water marks on it. Those took me a whole hour to remove the last time it happened," the staunch librarian recites. I just nod my head, trying to keepmy irritation from showing.I amwell used tothis particulartirade of hers by now; after all, she has been chastisingme about the water marks ever since 2nd year when I was unfortunate enough to have that incompetent fool Crabbe spill all overmy book during lunch. Stiffly,I spun around onmy heel after her spiel had ended and marched towards the exit, intending to dropmy things off atmy dorm room before heading to quidditch practice.


Well, my theory that bad things happen in threes has just been blown to pieces. Quidditch didn't go much better than the rest of my day did, excluding the fact that I found Salazar Slytherins journal in the library today.

Our new seeker Damien Black couldn't catch a snitch if it hit him square on the nose. I really don't understand why Malfoy had to choose a second year who can barely achieve passing marks in flying lessons to be the key player on the team. If we lose the quidditch cup to Gryffindor again this year...well, heads are going to roll.

Afraid that I would throttle the little pipsqueak Black if I should have to face him in the locker room or broom shed after his horrible display of incompetency on the field, I decided to take a little time after practice to cool off by making a couple extra laps around the pitch. I needed to get used to the feel of flying again after going a whole summer without mounting a broomstick anyway.

I took a little longer than I'd intended, about 45 minutes instead 15, but it was nice to just be able to unwind after everything that'd happened so far today. And it gave me a bit of time to dwell on my discovery in the library. It brought a smile onto my face, not the goofy kind those Gryffindor goons are always wearing plastered on their faces, but more like a very satisfied, smug smirk, quite suited for a Slytherin if I say so myself.

Deciding that I'd wasted enough time already and eager to get back to the book which I had securely sealed in a secret compartment of my heavily warded trunk, I flew leisurely to the ground before dismounting, stretching a bit and heading for the broom shed. After putting my broom away and deciding that I would rather just shower in the dungeons instead of the locker room, I made my way swiftly back to the castle, cutting across the lush green grass and letting the wind cool me off as it gently whipped my forest green quidditch robes about me.

Perhaps today wasn't so bad after all, I decided, as I inhaled the sweet smell of freshly cut grass offset by the cool, crisp air signaling the onset of winter. It wasn't even October yet and it was already getting rather cold outside. Not that I minded the cold or anything...

My musings were cut short as I heard a loud thump off to my right. What could it be and how could I have not sensed it before now? I was usually so alert and attentive. My instinctual reaction had been to grab my wand, a habit that had been incorporated by many hours worth of patient drilling. Instantly my senses went on high alert and I spun around with my wand arm outstretched towards the spot where I had heard the noise issue from.

What I saw surprised me, to say the least. I don't know what I had been expecting exactly, but a boy of about my age lying face down in the grass certainly wasn't it. Warily I lowered my wand a fraction, not really feeling threatened anymore and yet still feeling a need for caution. Where on earth did this boy come from and what was he doing here?

I slowly approached him, starting slightly as he stirred. Then he lifted his head, looking somewhat dazed before turning confused eyes, shockingly green in color, towards my own duller green orbs. And as we stood there silently scrutinizing each other his confusion slowly shifted to shock, then horror.

I could do nothing but stare back at him, my eyebrows furrowed in thought as I wondered what had caused this mysterious raven haired boy to look at me with fright and pondered whether, perhaps, my streak of bad luck had not dissipated yet as I had earlier presumed.


AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to update. I know that this chapter is a bit different than the first one, not as much humor and...I don't know. This is just kind of what came to me. I'll be switching back and forth between Harry and Tom's point of views. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next chapter probably won't be out for a while. As always, feel free to email me with any questions or comments or leave them in a review.

Responses to those who reviewed the first chapter have been taken down in compliance with FF's new rules against putting answers to reviews at the end of stories. Sorry!