It was September first, in the memory that is. Harry was frantically looking at every sign, but he couldn't find what he was looking for. He couldn't find platform 9 . Finally they heard, Tom and memory Harry, a rather loud shout about muggles. They looked and saw a bunch of red heads, they followed them, and Tom saw the look in Harry's face when a boy ran to the wall and vanished before his eyes.

Harry approached them, Tom following close behind, then when it seems like a minute or more have passed in the memory, he was at a compartment, and Harry was alone, watching the red heads talk outside the train. Then, the youngest red headed boy entered the compartment, and the train moved. He watched as Harry became friends with the boy called Ron Weasley. They arrived at the castle, and moved to the sorting ceremony. Harry and Ron were sorted to Gryffindor, along with Hermione, and Neville.

The memory changed, they, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville were running and they entered a locked room. Tom saw what was behind them while they were listening outside the door. It was a Cerberus. When they saw it, they immediately run back to their common room. The memory changed again, it was Quidditch. Harry was playing as seeker, which Tom guess is a miracle because Harry was just a first year. Then he saw Harry's broom trying to make him fall. He looked around, and he saw a greasy haired professor, Professor Snape, muttering and he was not blinking. Tom was confused, why would the Professor wanted Harry dead? Then he saw who was just behind Professor Snape, a pale young man wearing a turban, and he too was not blinking. When the scene changed, He saw Harry, Ron and Hermione researching the library. They were muttering; "Nicolas. Flamel. Flamel. Nicolas Flamel where are you."

Then he saw them running from Hagrid's hut, they went to Professor McGonagall.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Harry swallowed.

"It's sort of secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone?" said Harry frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time —"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

"Look," said Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor — it's about the Sorcerer's Stone —"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

"How do you know — ?" she spluttered.

"Professor, I think — I know — that Sn— that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor —"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"It's tonight," said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we —"

Hermione gasped. Harry and Ron wheeled round.

Snape was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.

"We were —" Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say.

"You want to be more careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.

"Be warned, Potter — any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.

Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape — wait outside the staffroom and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you'd better do that."

"Why me?"

"It's obvious," said Ron. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice, " 'Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong. …' "

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.

"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told Ron. "Come on."

But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.

"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own House!"

Harry and Ron went back to the common room. Harry had just said, "At least Hermione's on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said.

The other two stared at him. He was pale and his eyes were glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Ron.

"You can't!" said Hermione. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the House Cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, its only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

He glared at them.

"You're right, Harry," said Hermione in a small voice.

"I'll use the Invisibility Cloak," said Harry. "It's just lucky I got it back."

"But will it cover all three of us?" said Ron.

"All — all three of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?"

"Of course not," said Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful. …"

"But if we get caught, you two will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," said Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

And then, the memory showed a corridor, it was night time. Maybe they were under the cloak? Tom just decided to go to the corridor, and he was right, they were under the cloak, because as soon as he went there the door opened and they were revealed.

He saw them jump to the trapdoor, fight the devil's snare by lighting a fire, catching a flying key, and he saw Ron leading them to a game of chess, which they won with Ron's sacrifice. They passed a knocked out troll, and Hermione solved Snape's riddle, and harry went to the last chamber alone. There, he saw Quirrell, much to Harry's surprise.

"You!" gasped Harry.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"But I thought — Snape —"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

"But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

"Snape was trying to save me?"

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really … he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular … and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls — you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off — and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly.

"Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

Tom knew what kind of mirror that is. It is the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he's in London … I'll be far away by the time he gets back. …"

"I saw you and Snape in the forest —" he blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me — as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side. …"

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it.

"I see the Stone … I'm presenting it to my master … but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing — I thought Snape was threatening you.

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions — he is a great wizard and I am weak —"

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.

"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. … Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me. …"

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand … is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

Harry tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

"Use the boy … Use the boy …" a high voice said, seeming to come from Quirrell himself.

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes — Potter — come here."

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry screwed up his courage.

"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he invented. "I — I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell cursed again. It was an obvious lie. Tom knew Harry lied the second he said it.

"Get out of the way," he said. As Harry moved aside, he felt the Sorcerer's Stone against his leg. Dare he make a break for it?

But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"He lies … He lies …"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him … face-to-face. …"

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough … for this. …"

Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

Tom didn't want to believe that it was him. How did this happen to him? What did he do wrong?

"Harry Potter …" it whispered.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor … I have form only when I can share another's body … but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. … Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks … you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest … and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own. … Now … why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs. He stumbled backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me … or you'll meet the same end as your parents. … They died begging me for mercy. …"

"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling.

"How touching …" it hissed. "I always value bravery. … Yes, boy, your parents were brave. … I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight … but your mother needn't have died … she was trying to protect you. … Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"NEVER!"

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck he could see Quirrell howling in agony.

"Master, I cannot hold him — my hands — my hands!"

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face —

"AAAARGH!"

Harry fell unconscious before he even saw Quirrell turn to ashes.

He was now looking at yet another memory. Harry, it seems, is looking at a hallway wall, he looked and saw the writing, 'The chamber of Secrets has been opened, Enemies of the Heir, Beware.' Not long after more students came, the students whispered and murmured to themselves. Then, Draco Malfoy shouted, "Enemies of the Heir, Beware? YOU'LL BE NEXT, MUDBLOOD!"

Tom was confused, who opened the Chamber? He was the only living heir of Slytherin, yes Harry can speak Parseltongue, but he would never.

The memory flash and he saw victims, a Gryffindor boy holding a camera, a Hufflepuff boy, Nearly Headless Nick, a Ravenclaw Prefect, and Hermione. Then Harry walked to the wall, and there's writing. 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever'.

Harry was with Ronald and the new Defense Professor, they pushed him and he fell in the entrance to the chamber. Tom watched as Harry got separated by the explosion caused by the rebounding memory charm. He watched as Harry ran to Ginny, she was unconscious. Then, he saw himself. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though he were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.

"Tom "" Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry said desperately. "She's not, she's not?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary, Tom recognized it. He still has it. It was given to every child in the orphanage. Even though it was given to him by those muggles, he still kept it. In the diary he wrote all about Hermione, the first few hidden words, sentences were about him being a 'Dark Lord', he even tried to have a new name by jumbling the letters of his own. The results are horrid such as; 'Mortal Dildo Mover', 'Mild Doormat Lover', 'Odd Immortal Lover', and the best so far was, 'I Am Lord Voldemort'.

"Look, give me my wand, I might need it."

Riddle's smile broadened.

"You won't be needing it," he said.

Harry stared at him.

"What d'you mean, I won't be?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," said Harry, losing patience, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later."

"We're going to talk now," said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.

"How did Ginny get like this?" he asked slowly.

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "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."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle. "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 secondhand robes and books, how" Riddle's eyes glinted "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her."

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "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."

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made Tom want to smack him.

"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?" said Harry.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

"No," Harry whispered.

The memory seems to be mute when Tom zoned out. How did he do it? Did he succeed in making himself immortal? Did he finish his research on Horcruxes? Is the Diary a Horcrux? Is that the reason why he didn't die? Is that why he seems different? Did it go wron and he didn't notice?

He had so many questions but he was brought back to the memory when a long, dreadful, piercing scream erupted. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then, he had gone. Tom looked around, he noticed the basilisk, and it was dead. He couldn't believe it! Harry Potter at age twelve killed a fully grown Basilisk! Of course he knew that the basilisk was kill in his time, but Dumbledore did all the work there.

The memory changed, it showed him Harry's third year, Sirius Black, Professor Lupin, the dementors and Peter Pettigrew. Harry also showed him how he battled hundreds of dementors, which he knew he just wanted to show off.

The Fourth year, he watched as Harry's name was called, he was a Hogwarts Champion. Harry also showed him his memories about him, the visions. He watched Harry battle a dragon. He was really impressed on Harry's flying skills. Then, he was underwater, watching as Harry saved two instead of just one. Then he was in a maze, he saw Harry running to the cup, but he helped Cedric Diggory, and they were both transported to a graveyard. He recognized it. It was the graveyard near his father's house. He went there; he was trying to plan how to kill them. Then, Cedric Diggory fell, dead. He watched as he was resurrected. He looked whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils. He looked ugly. He can't believe what he was seeing. What happened to his looks? Was it because he used the wrong servant? He just wants Harry to kill Voldemort right now! How could he be so stupid?

He watched as Harry was tortured. He couldn't watch. Yes, he wasn't that close to Harry, but he suffered too much. How could he – no Voldemort – not see that?

He heaved a sigh when Harry escaped.

The next year wasn't any better. Sirius Black, the loyal, honest and Harry's godfather was killed. He felt Harry's pain. He just wants Voldemort to die. How could he do it all? All the pain he has caused them all. He felt guilty. Yes, he keeps telling himself that he didn't do it, but he did. He caused it all.

He watched as Harry learned all about him. He watched as he poisoned an innocent boy to do his bidding. He made him kill Dumbledore. He watched as Harry destroys his Horcrux. He watched as Ron left them. He watched but everything made him hate himself. It was his fault.

He was pulled back, Harry was there. Tom fell to his knees. He was trying not to cry. He couldn't believe it. He hates himself. He caused them too much pain.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered.

"It's okay To--"

"It's not okay! How could you stand to be in the same room as me? I killed them! I killed them all! You should hate me! I tried to kill you!" he cried.

"But you didn't. You fixed it, you fixed everything." Harry said softly.

"I didn't. You did." He said.

"No, Tom. You did. Do you think I could've done it if you didn't love Hermione?"

Tom looked down; he was still in his knees.